I think about how much I frightened Phoebe, on both the night before I left for Berkshire and the other night when we sat outside, before time snapped me back here.
Maybe I should be locked up.
“I wish Sofía were here,” I say softly.
“Me too, man,” Ryan says, his voice bitter. “If she were, those officials never would have come.” His fingers are curled into a fist, and he punches the wall beside the library door. Hard. “Damn it!” he says, seething. “I will not let those damn officials mess this place up! They’re ruining all my plans!”
There’s something about that last sentence, something about Ryan’s plans that rings in the air like a struck bell. But I’m too distracted to really focus on it. All I can see is the way the wall ripples and moves like water where Ryan struck it.
I blink, and the wall is normal again.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, pushing the library door open.
Ryan follows me inside. I wish I knew how to get rid of him.
I go to the ancient computers in the back of the room. Ryan talks at me while the hard drive boots up. He’s bragging about all the stuff he has in his home in LA, how he spent all break swimming and surfing and doing all kinds of cool things he doesn’t get to do here. I want to call him on his bull—Ryan doesn’t look like the kind of guy to go swimming without a T-shirt on, let alone be a surf expert—but I just don’t care enough to push it. He exhausts me, honestly. And I don’t think he even likes me. He just wants an audience.
“Look, I’ve got work to do,” I say. “You may not give a shit about your classes, but I do.”
Ryan flips me off, but at least he leaves me alone for a bit, wandering up and down the book aisles.
I turn back to the computer and quickly type in Sofía Muniz. Several links pop up—mostly social media profiles for other girls named Sofía Muniz—but when I add Berkshire Academy and Pear Island to the search, the top hits are all newspaper articles, as well as an official statement from the academy’s board.
I click on the news first.
STUDENT DISAPPEARS AT LOCAL ACADEMY FOR ELITE TEENS. My breath catches at the picture of Sofía taking up a column of the article. It’s an old picture, probably from her high school before she came here, but it’s her. I reach out and touch the image on the screen with two fingers. The article is straight facts: Sofía went missing on this date, Berkshire Academy has issued no comment, state and federal officials are investigating. It ends with a list of numbers for people to call if they have any more information about her disappearance.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asks, looking over at me. He starts heading my way. The closer he gets, the blurrier the screen becomes. Before my eyes, the headline shifts.
STUDENT DIES AT LOCAL ACADEMY FOR TROUBLED TEENS
Sofía Muniz, 17, was found dead last night on the grounds of the Berkshire Academy for Children with Exceptional Needs, located on Pear Island. Her death has been ruled a suicide by local authorities. The academy, which serves a small group of students aged 15 to 21, specializes in treating severe cases of emotionally and behaviorally disturbed children who need greater guidance than a traditional school setting can offer.
Muniz was discovered by her psychiatrist, Dr. Demitrious Franklin, and another student. Preliminary reports indicate that Muniz overdosed on prescription medication, and an investigation is ongoing. “Her access to the medication poses a serious breach in policy,” Dr. Alexander Hartford, chairman of the board of the academy, said in a press release. “We are working with local and state authorities to determine how best to redesign our practices.” Hartford added that the school is willingly hosting officials from the state board of education to help determine the future of Berkshire Academy.
“Sofía was beloved to all who knew her,” Dr. Franklin said prior to the private memorial service held on the grounds of the school. “She will be sorely missed.” One of her fellow students, Gwendoline Benson, added, “She was my best friend. I never thought she’d just be gone one day.”
Muniz is predeceased by her mother and two sisters, victims of a car accident in her hometown of Austin, TX. Her father was unavailable for comment.
The article concludes with numbers for suicide-prevention hotlines.
“Finally decided to enter reality, huh?” Ryan asks, bending over the computer and looking at the screen.
The closer he gets, the clearer the image becomes, until there’s no hint of the real article I saw before Ryan came over. The picture of Sofía sharpens too, but in a twisted way, obscuring her features just enough so that she no longer looks the way she did before, when I knew her. She looks like a stranger.
“Go away, you dick,” I growl, staring at the picture.
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Whatever. But listen, tonight I want your help.”