Where They Found Her

“Hey.”

 

 

When Sandy turned, there was Aidan, silhouetted by the sun. She lifted a hand to her eyes so she could make him out better in the glare. She hated how happy she was to see him. Her heart skipped an actual stupid beat. And she was the one who’d been ignoring Aidan’s texts and then his calls since yesterday, freezing him out on purpose. What she and Aidan had was fun and whatever, but Sandy wasn’t dumb enough to think he had any role in this actual, real-life situation.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And why do you look like such shit?”

 

Aidan was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. He crossed his arms in front of him, tucking his hands under the opposite armpit. “Kind of hard to get a good night’s sleep when your girlfriend is trying to break up with you.”

 

“Girlfriend?” Sandy laughed. Because she really thought he was joking. But he was staring straight at her, his eyes glowing in the sun like polished amber. “So you just happened to see me here?”

 

“If by ‘happened,’ you mean that I’ve been driving around looking for you ever since that last text you sent—you were supposed to meet me after I stayed in class, remember?”

 

“So you’ve been stalking me?”

 

“I prefer ‘search and rescue.’”

 

Sandy turned away. Already she could feel herself caving, giving in to temptation. She should have said: Fuck you, I don’t need a rescue. Because she didn’t. But she did want to let go, to let all of it crash over and wash her away. She couldn’t tell Aidan the worst of it—she couldn’t tell anyone that—but maybe she could tell him something. And then, for one second, she wouldn’t be alone with all of it anymore.

 

“There’s just a lot of shit right now,” she said.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like we’re getting evicted from our apartment.” Sandy stared right at Aidan, daring him to screw it up by looking shocked and appalled. He didn’t blink. “And now I can’t find Jenna.”

 

“What do you mean?” He looked worried, but not in a bad way.

 

“That I can’t fucking find Jenna. I’ve looked everywhere for her, and I’ve called her a million times. Last time anyone saw her was at work a day and a half ago.”

 

“Did you tell the police?”

 

“About what?” Sandy felt a guilty twist.

 

“Um, about your missing mom.” He looked at Sandy like maybe she was being dumb on purpose. “They should be out looking for her or whatever.”

 

“I’m thinking about it.” She nodded in the direction of the police station. “But what if she’s high out of her mind somewhere? It’s not like your mom being gone.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think my mom’s the police’s favorite right now, either.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“The police showed up looking for her last night.” Aidan pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Sandy. She waved it off, too nervous to smoke. “My mom loved it, too, wouldn’t shut up about it afterward.” He made a face, imitating her. “‘The police are so stupid, they’ll believe anything.’ She’s full of shit anyway. She just wants to pretend she knows something that somebody might care about.”

 

“About what?” It felt like he was avoiding telling her.

 

“That baby they found, I think,” he said quietly. He seemed embarrassed. “Like I said, she doesn’t actually know anything.”

 

They stood in silence for a minute longer, facing the police station.

 

“Let me help you look for your mom,” Aidan said finally.

 

Sandy could feel him staring at the side of her face, but she kept her eyes down. Her throat felt thick. “No, I don’t think—”

 

“Come on, give me a chance not to be the asshole everybody thinks I am. You won’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to help.”

 

What Sandy really wanted right then more than anything was someone to help her. To take care of her. She wanted a mom. That was the truth, even if she didn’t want to admit it. And not Jenna, no matter how much she wanted to find her. What Sandy wanted was a real mom. A regular one. But what she had was Aidan. And maybe he was something.

 

“Okay,” Sandy said, because letting him help wasn’t the same thing as needing him to. “For now.”

 

Relax, Sandy told herself inside the musty old police station. She was alone. Going in with Aidan would have been too suspicious. She’d sent him to check the hospital for Jenna. She’d been avoiding that, too.

 

The creaky floor and stale air reminded her of a place she’d gone on a field trip as a kid back when they’d lived for a year in South Jersey. Some colonial house where the kids were taught how to churn butter, except no one had gotten it to work. Only difference here were the flags lined up against the wall and the pictures of all those friendly fellas in uniform who could easily arrest her anytime they wanted.

 

Keep it the fuck together.

 

“Stapler, stapler, stapler,” a tall guy behind the desk was muttering, half to Sandy and half to himself. “You’d think finding office supplies wouldn’t be the hardest part of this job, but I tell you, sometimes . . .” He reached forward and grabbed something. “Ah, here it is.”

 

He stapled the pages, then looked up at Sandy. Fucking instantly, he looked suspicious. And she hadn’t even opened her mouth. A teenager alone in the police station? Of course he was wondering what her deal was. But the more he looked at Sandy, the more it felt like he was trying to see right through her. Like maybe he already had.