Tess Sharpe - Far From You

“You’re her family. If you show up there by yourself, he has to listen. Tell him you found those warning notes and the thumb drive in Mina’s room, started investigating, and then got this note on your car yesterday. He’ll believe you—but not if I’m with you. If I’m there, it’ll screw everything up. He doesn’t trust me. It has to be just you.”

Trev grits his teeth. “Okay,” he says. “Then I’ll go. And you stay home and wait for me to call you.”

“I can’t. I promised Rachel I’d go to a party.”

“A party? Seriously?”

“Kyle invited Rachel, but she doesn’t want to go without me. If you hurry over to Detective James, you can meet me out at the lake. We’ll go through everything the cops say. You can even challenge Kyle to picnic table beer pong if you want.”

That gets a reluctant smile out of him. “Fine,” Trev says. He digs his keys out of his pocket and heads toward the driver’s side of the truck. “No beer pong, though.”

“Thank you.”

He looks up grimly. “Thank me when this is all done.”

He follows me home, just a few feet behind my car.

FOUR MONTHS AGO (SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD)

“Do we have to do this now?” I ask, fiddling with the iPod hookup in my car. “We’re going to be late.”

“I know, I know, I suck,” Mina says as she takes the Old 99 exit. “It’ll be quick. Thirty minutes. Then we’ll go to Amber’s.”

It’s been storming all week, but it’s clear now, and you can see the stars so much better away from the town lights. I think about rolling my window down and sticking my head out, but it’s too cold.

“You still not gonna tell me what this is all about?” I find the play­list marked Sophie and page through the songs.

“Not yet,” Mina trills.

“You and your weird superstitions,” I say, rolling my eyes and grinning.

Mina sticks her tongue out. “They’re not weird. But this is going to be huge. I’m not going to jinx it now, when I’m so close.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Hey, I’m not the one with a shrink on speed dial.”

Silence fills the car. Her mouth twists back and forth.

“Too soon?” she asks.

“No.”

She shoots me a look.

“Okay, maybe a little,” I admit.

“I’m a bitch. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s the truth. How bitchy can that be?”

“Pretty bitchy.”

I’ve been home from Portland for two weeks. After almost six months with Macy, clawing my way clean and free, I was finally sure enough to come home.

But finding steady footing has been hard. Six months ago, I’d have happily burned any bridges I could for a handful of pills, but now I’ve got the reality of the damage I’ve done—to myself, to Mina, to Trev, to my parents.

Mina and I aren’t the same anymore. There’s a tense undercurrent to all our conversations. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her watching me, but every time I look at her straight on, she pretends she hasn’t been staring.

I wish she’d just say something. Anything to stop this agonizing push and pull we’ve fallen back into.

Mina’s phone rings. She checks it, sighs, and throws it in her purse. It’s the third time she’s done that in the last twenty minutes.

I raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says.

“Okay.”

We’re quiet for a while. Songs cycle through the playlist, and Mina drums her fingers against the steering wheel as the headlights cut through the darkness.

“Soph, you know that fight we had last week, when we had dinner with Trev and Kyle?” Mina’s voice is level; she keeps her eyes on the road, but her cheeks blush a steady pink.

“Yes,” I say, and I feel like I’m walking on eggshells and hot coals all at once. Is she really going there?

Mina twists a strand of dark hair around her finger, still not looking at me, even though I’m staring so hard she has to feel it.

“You remember what you said? About choices?”

“I remember,” I say carefully. I’m afraid to say any more.

“We should talk about it.”

“Now?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet. But soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You promise?” She turns away from the road, and I’m startled to see a rare streak of vulnerability in her face.

“I promise.”

She’s got to hear it, how much I mean it.

It’s the first (last, only) promise I break to her.

NOW (JUNE)

“The handwriting matches the notes I found in the garage?” Rachel asks as we drive in my car toward the lake, Kyle in the backseat.

“Yeah,” I say. “Check my phone. I took a picture of it. And see if Trev’s texted me yet.”

“Nada,” Rachel says as she opens my photos, squinting at the image of the note. “He took a picture of you guys?”

“That’s creepy,” Kyle says, taking the phone from her to look. “He’s stalking you. Are you sure you didn’t see anyone?”

“All the parents were picking up the soccer team. I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in the parking lot. He could’ve easily pulled up next to Trev’s truck, dropped the note, and driven off while we were talking to Amy.”

“Maybe he left fingerprints,” Kyle suggests.

“The police will dust all the notes, but I doubt they’ll find anything. They didn’t find any fingerprints at the crime scene.”

“So, we think it’s Matt, right?” Rachel asks. “Unless Jackie was sleeping around, he’s the dad of the baby. And the baby has to be the reason she disappeared.”

“It makes sense,” I say. “And I made him angry after the meeting, bringing up the possibility of a pregnancy.”

“He looked like he was gonna hit you,” Rachel says.

“Well, he didn’t,” I say.

“Jesus,” Kyle says.

“What?” Rachel asks.

Kyle just shakes his head. “I’ve known him forever,” he says. “As long as I’ve known Adam. He got us our first beers back when we were freshmen. It’s just…it’s fucked that we even have to think like this about people we know.”

Rachel and I exchange a look. “It’s not for sure,” Rachel says.

“Yeah,” Kyle says, but he sounds far from convinced.

“Okay, we need a happier subject,” Rachel insists.

“Well, this is probably my final night of freedom,” I say. “As soon as the cops call my parents about the threats, they’re gonna freak and lock me in the house.”

“Not really happy,” Rachel says. “But you’re not Ms. ­Sunshine, so A-plus for effort.”

“I’d suggest you do something wild, but isn’t that against the rehab rules?” Kyle asks.

“We could go skinny-dipping,” Rachel suggests, and while I can tell she’s half joking, Kyle perks up at the idea.

I smile outright now, because he can’t tear his eyes off Rachel. “Sure. Let’s do that,” I say. “Kyle, you can’t come. I don’t want to see your bits.”

“Like I want to see yours,” Kyle shoots back as Rachel giggles.

I look down at the phone in my lap as we pull into the parking lot of Brandy Creek. Still no text from Trev.

What’s taking him so long? It’s been three hours.

I feel a flash of nervousness as I see all the people on the beach. The bonfire is already crackling, coolers set out, music blasting. I turn the car off and get out. The reluctance must show on my face, because Rachel nudges me with her elbow. “We don’t have to go down,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, let’s,” I make myself say.

I have to figure out how to come out of this with some kind of normal. Otherwise I’ll backslide. I’ll fall so fast and so hard that I won’t be able to pull myself out again.

Ten months. Five days.

I toss my phone into my purse and walk down the beach with Rachel and Kyle.

There are some pockets of strained silence as we make our way through the group of familiar faces. Kyle’s hugging ­people and smiling at girls, introducing Rachel as I follow behind, my eyes cast down. A shyness I haven’t felt in forever suffocates me.

“I’m gonna get some water,” I tell Rachel, zeroing in on one of the coolers tucked farther down the beach. It’s less mobbed over there.

She nods and waves me off with a look of understanding, though I can feel her tracking me, making sure I’m okay as I break from the crowd. I look over my shoulder and watch her for a second, see the way she smiles at Kyle in the firelight. He’s already ditched his shirt, now tucked into his back pocket.

“Watch it,” says a sharp voice.

I run smack into someone and stumble backward, my footing unsteady in the sand.

Amber doesn’t even reach out to try to help me. She stands still, her arms folded, as I teeter, trying to keep my balance. When I’m finally steady, she stands there, disapproval radiating off of her.

“Hi, Amber.”

“Sophie,” she says, and I’m impressed—she could freeze ice with that voice. “I can’t believe you thought it was okay to show up here.”

I feel tired all of a sudden. I don’t want to do this. Not here. Not ever. “Let’s just avoid each other.” I start to move past her.

“You know, I never got what she saw in you. You wrecked yourself. And then you brought her down with you.”

I stop. We’re drawing attention now, and my skin crawls at all the eyes on me. “Let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to fight.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Amber snaps. “I don’t have to listen to you. You shouldn’t be here. You should be in jail.”

“Hey!” Rachel comes up, scattering sand everywhere, her shoulders tense. “Leave her alone.”

Amber’s mouth twists in disapproval at Rachel’s funky bubble skirt and the necklace she’s made out of Scrabble tiles. “Freak,” she mutters.

Rachel’s face lights up; her eyes flick up and down Amber’s body, taking in her perfectly tousled beach hair and sparkly eye makeup. “I’m taking that as a compliment,” she says.

Kyle comes up behind Rachel, looming over her like he’s our personal bodyguard. He crosses his arms, brown eyes narrowing. “Sophie and Rachel are here with me. Don’t talk about stuff you don’t know shit about, Amber. Leave us alone.”

Amber’s eyes widen when Kyle defends me, then she deflates. “Whatever. You wanna stomp on Mina’s grave with the person responsible, Kyle, you go ahead.” With another disgusted look at me, she tosses her hair over her shoulder and stalks off.

I let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, eyes on the sand. “She was being a jerk.”

“Come on, just ignore her,” Rachel says. “Let’s get something to drink.”

“I should check my phone. I left it in the car.” It’s a lie, but I want to be alone.

“I’ll come with,” Rachel offers, but I wave her off.

“It’s fine. Trev probably texted me. I just want to check. Be right back.” I need a few minutes by myself. There are too many familiar faces here.

Before either of them can protest, I’m walking away as fast as my bad leg allows. I’m halfway up the beach, concentrating on navigating through the sand and getting my phone out of my purse when I hear someone calling my name.

“Sophie! Hey!” Adam comes jogging up. There are wet spots on his faded T-shirt, and his hair’s dropping into his eyes. “Kyle sent me after you. He didn’t want you to go anywhere solo.” He looks down at the phone in my hand. “Thought you were getting your phone.” I flush, but Adam smiles. “Hey, it’s okay. Amber was being mean. I’d want to get away, too. Can I come with you, at least, so Kyle doesn’t get mad at me?”

“I’m just going to my car; not that exciting.”

“I’ll tag along. Hey, you want?” He offers me a bottle of Coke, which I grab from him. I twist it open and take a drink as Adam gestures for me to keep going. He follows, hands in the pockets of his board shorts. I don’t look down at my phone, even though I want to check to make sure I didn’t miss any texts. “How’s your garden?” he asks as the beach fades into pavement.

“Good. Thanks again for helping me with that soil. What about you? How’s your summer?” The one light in the parking lot is about to die. It’s quieter up here, the noise from the beach fading as we walk farther away. I unlock my car and dump my purse onto the front seat. I flip my phone over so I can see the screen. There’s a missed call from a number I don’t recognize. My heart skips a few beats before starting to pound in my ears.

Is this it?

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Adam. I walk a few steps down the path before entering my voice mail code. I take another drink, expecting Trev’s voice on the message, but it isn’t his.