“I will.”
I walk slowly. I’m in no hurry to get there. When the building finally comes into view, my body starts to rebel, one part of me right after the other. My chest tingles, my pulse doubles, my throat constricts. A girl is missing.
Let that girl be the one they talk about.
It’s quiet when I reach the parking lot, a point in the morning between arrivals. I spot something out of place on the student side, sinister as a black dog; Turner’s Explorer. There’s life past the front doors—bodies moving on their way to wherever. John and Jane holding up the background. Jane. That was less than a week ago.
I take a deep breath and step inside. There are eyes on me, eyes giving me good, long looks that make me want to disappear but what they’re talking about is Penny.
While they look at me.
I pass the main office, and I see Turner, the grim center of a group of faculty members pressing him with questions. His mouth is moving but his gaze flicks my way and lingers. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. I don’t want people to see me near Turner, for the thoughts that would make them think. I slip past some lockers, turn a blind corner, and then I’m standing in an alcove and Brock is nearby, at his locker. He spots me before I can find somewhere else and at first, it seems like he’s not sure what he wants to do about this. Alek isn’t with him. Penny gone. Me, here. He closes his locker, takes me in from the bruise on my cheek down.
“Wow,” he says softly. “You sure got fucked on Friday.”
My heart in a fist. Is a fist.
“Say that again, Brock.”
“Up,” he amends. “I mean fucked up. You need someone to tell you about it?”
“What makes you think I need telling?”
“Well, the good sheriff says you don’t remember a goddamn thing. But I could let you in on it. You want to hear?”
“Where’s Alek?”
“That’s nothing you need to know.”
“Why are you here if he’s not?” I ask and his cheeks turn just pink enough to stand out. “Oh. He told you to be here, didn’t he? You’re here. Because he told you.”
“Just being a friend,” he says. “But I guess you wouldn’t know what that’s like, on account of you not having any.”
“That’s the best you can do?”
“I could do a lot worse.”
I look down the hall. It’s just the two of us here, alone together, and I’m the one that has to bear the burden of it. He steps forward—I walk away.
“So did you enjoy it?” he calls at my back. “Getting fucked?”
In homeroom, everyone is quiet, even McClelland. His hands are clasped, brows drawn together. I sit at the back of the room and watch people come in, faces so sad. I stare at Alek’s and Penny’s empty seats. The bell rings, but the cue for video announcements doesn’t sound.
“There will be a special assembly,” McClelland says. “There’s a special assembly—” He glances at the clock. “Now. In the auditorium. Line up single file and follow me there.”
We do as we’re told. It reminds me of elementary school, of being escorted from one class to the next because we were too young to be trusted to do anything on our own.
But now we’re supposed to be old enough to look after ourselves.
Mr. McClelland opens the door. Mrs. Leven’s class is lined up across the hall and we all march together, side by side, to the auditorium. We’re directed into rows, don’t even get to pick where we’ll sit.
I keep my eyes on the stage. There are three empty chairs behind the podium and when everyone is seated and the lights are dimmed, Principal Diaz, Vice Principal Emerson, and Sheriff Turner walk out. Emerson and Turner take the first two chairs but Diaz takes the mic.
“I wish I’d gathered you here under better circumstances,” she says. “I’m sure most, if not all, of you know about the unfortunate news regarding a beloved member of our senior class. In the interest of making sure you have the correct information, we thought it best if you heard it from us and the local authorities directly. Penny Young is missing.”
And even though I already know this, the news goes over me like ice, like I never really believed it at all. Frantic whispers fill the room. The teachers allow us a brief conference about what we’ve just been told.
I scan the rows and find Tina next to Yumi and Brock. Yumi is crying, but Tina’s face is angry, set. I can’t remember ever seeing Tina cry. When something hurts Tina, she hurts it right back. She doesn’t give herself over to it.
“We’re not exactly sure what happened yet, so there’s no point in jumping to any bad conclusions,” Diaz continues and I think of what Leon said. Coming up on forty-eight hours, but we’re past that now. “But if you need someone to talk to, the guidance counselor is here to listen, as are all members of the faculty. Our hearts go out to the Youngs at this difficult time. We’ll be praying for Penny’s safe return. Sheriff Turner will speak now and I expect you to listen quietly and respectfully to what he has to say.”
Diaz sits and Turner moves to the microphone, his expression so perfectly grave. Penny, the daughter he never had, the daughter-in-law he expected to have. I try to imagine Alek, desperately searching for the girl he thought he’d marry while the rest of us are here being told about how she’s gone. I am so hungry for the Turners’ pain, I will take it in any context.
“Morning.”