I couldn’t complain too much. No one had tried to drag me into the locker room and rape me, either. God, there really wasn’t a high bar when it came to fine days in Midpark High. “Find anything out yet?”
“No,” he said, frowning. I didn’t have to have my eyes on him to know he scowled to himself at that. If anyone hated the fact that the trail had gone cold, it was Jacob. He and Ollie—and me and my mom, by extension—wanted nothing more than to find the person responsible for all of the terror in town and get them locked up for good.
But there had been nothing. No new events. No more bodies. No more anything. It wasn’t something I should complain about, but I couldn’t help but feel like someone was stalling, waiting for the perfect time to pop up out of nowhere and stab me in the back.
I almost made a comment to him saying something along the lines of I wonder when something else will happen next, but I stopped myself. Tempting fate was stupid, especially since another corpse could be lurking around any corner.
Jacob dropped me off, and I headed inside the house and up to my room after saying hello to my mom. Mom was in the kitchen, busy trying to figure out dinner. She’d become quite the cook lately, and I had to hand it to her. Growing up on grilled cheese and hot dogs, TV dinners and pizza rolls, I was used to the cheap and easy kind of meals.
Needless to say, there was no cheap and easy in Midpark. Well, there might be easy things, but nothing cheap.
I took a quick shower before sitting down at my desk and pulling out my first batch of homework. Trigonometry. Ugh. Math had never been a favorite subject of mine, but Midpark trig was like frigging rocket science. I really didn’t get it, but I’d have to suck it up and try to do it.
Pencil in my hand, I got to work…
…At least until my phone buzzed. A part of me was intent to ignore it in hopes of getting my work done faster—after all, anything it could possibly be could wait—but for whatever reason, I glanced at my phone anyway. Call me weak, call me addicted to that small piece of technology like everyone else my age.
Archer’s name flashed across the screen, the background lit up to show the call.
Instantly, I thought that was a little weird. We’d texted a bit today, but we didn’t have any plans to talk tonight, as far as I remembered. Sometimes we talked to each other on the phone when we couldn’t hang out. You know, trying to make up for lost time and shit like that.
Pursing my lips, I answered it. “Archer,” I spoke, about to smile—but when he told me what he told me next, the smile died before it had the chance to form, nothing but a distant memory as I sat there in shock.
I could’ve worded that better, considering the words he frantically spoke into my ear.
My heart dropped, and I jerked up, skidding my chair back on the carpet as I felt that thing in my chest beat faster. “What?” I could hardly get out the word, could hardly speak as I tried to mentally piece it all together.
No. No, no, no. This was the absolute last thing I wanted to happen. The last thing that should happen.
He could hardly speak on the other line, and I couldn’t blame him. Shit.
“Did you call the police?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice breaking, and thereby my heart with it.
“I’m coming over.” I had no idea how I’d get there; Jacob had already left, and it felt silly to call him back. Would Mom let me take her van? It was fixed, and I hardly ever asked to drive. I had my license, but no car. Mom was always super strict about that.
And, maybe my driving skills weren’t that great, but that was beside the point. If she let me drive more often, I’d be better at it, right?
No, that was neither here nor there. That shouldn’t even cross my mind right now.
I didn’t let Archer argue with me. In fact, he said nothing, so as I held onto the phone with a death grip, I raced to the kitchen, finding my mom in much the same place as she’d been when I first got home.