The senior lockers are all in the same hallway, so it stands to reason that Josh’s locker would be near mine. I’ve probably passed him standing by his locker a dozen times without noticing him. I’ve probably bumped into him on his way to class.
It shouldn’t surprise me, is what I’m saying.
And yet it does. The third locker from the end of the hallway. It must be his, because it’s been turned into a kind of altar. Someone put his yearbook photo on it. Drugstore carnations are heaped against the base of the locker, and notes stick out through the ventilation slits in the door. Someone duct-taped a teddy bear to the metal. I stare at it. It’s a little white bear, and it’s holding a heart. The duct tape covers its arms, so it’s hard to tell if the heart says anything on it. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” probably. I wonder, briefly, what the bear is supposed to be for. Is it supposed to be a gift to comfort Josh when he comes back from whatever ordeal has made him disappear? Is it an offering, a hope that he’ll be able to get back whatever childhood is taken from him while he’s gone?
If Josh came back and saw that white bear, what would he do with it? What use would a traumatized eighteen-year-old have for that little plush toy?
I stroke the bear’s paw with my fingers, vividly remembering how Roya’s skin felt when I did the same thing just yesterday. Remembering her fingers brushing that sudden bruise away from my leg.
I wish I could have had a dream about that. I didn’t realize how much I missed dreaming about Roya, until I stopped.
“You must really miss him.”
I snatch my hand back as though the bear has burned me. “What?”
When I turn around, Gina Tarlucci is standing behind me with her arms folded over her camera. I almost never see her when we’re not in class or at the soccer field making awkward small talk. She’s wearing a pink-and-gray floral dress that makes her look like something out of a 1950s movie about surfers. She looks down at me with sad, sympathetic eyes. “I just meant, this is probably really hard for you.” She gestures at the locker. “You guys were a thing, right?”
My reaction is immediate and visceral. “What? No. No, we—no, we were not a thing. I barely even knew him.” I wince. “Know him. I don’t even know him.”
Gina’s eyebrows shoot up. She plants a hand on one ample hip and purses her lips. “Um, okay, well, that’s interesting.”
My phone is buzzing in my pocket again, but I ignore it. I don’t like the way she says “interesting.”
“I don’t think there’s anything interesting about it,” I snap. “It’s just the truth. Ask anybody.”
“So, I guess what I saw at prom was just some friendly making-out between strangers?” she hisses. I glance up and down the hallway—thank goodness, we’re alone. When I look back at her, I can tell that checking to see if anyone could hear her was the wrong move. A triumphant smile is spreading across her face. She starts fidgeting with her shiny brown braid. I fight the sudden impulse to give it a sharp yank and run away as fast as my legs can take me. “What, was it supposed to be a secret?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have mixed me up with someone else,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Um, no. You two almost sat on me,” she says. “I’m still finding glitter from your dress on all my stuff. Trust me, I know who I saw.” She looks at his locker, and her brows draw together. “Why don’t you want people to know that you were a couple? I won’t tell anyone, but … I mean, it’s weird. Everyone would probably want to support you.”
Two freshmen walk through the hall. Gina and I stand silently, trying not to look like we’re waiting for the freshmen to be gone before we finish talking. My mind is racing. Gina saw. A knot of terror forms in my gut.
I think back to prom night. Josh and I made out in the kitchen for all of five minutes before I whispered in his ear, asking him where his bedroom was. I’d thought we were alone. I’d been irritated about it. People at parties were supposed to linger in the kitchen—they were supposed to see us, talk about the fact that we were climbing all over each other. The gossip was supposed to get back to Roya. But there hadn’t been anyone else in the kitchen to see his tongue in my mouth. I remember being annoyed, but also not wanting to make out with him for longer than was strictly necessary, so I just figured I’d get it over with.
But Gina must have been there after all. I try to remember, but … I can’t. I remember Josh, and his hands moving from my waist to my butt, and the too-soft, too-wet way he kissed me. Tongue-first. I remember my heart pounding. I remember opening my eyes and trying to see past his nose, trying to see the rest of the room, trying to see if anyone else was there. I remember the way he nodded when I asked if we could go upstairs—two short, sharp twitches of his head, and then he was grabbing my hand and leading me out of the kitchen.
But I don’t remember seeing Gina at all.
Shit.
“Look, we weren’t a … a couple,” I say in a low voice once the freshmen are gone. “It just kind of happened. It’s not a thing. I don’t want people to know because …” I hesitate—then inspiration strikes. “Because I don’t want to take the attention away from people looking for him.” It comes out in a rush.
Gina frowns at me. “Well … I mean. I guess that makes sense,” she says slowly. “But you should at least tell the police that you saw him that night, right?”
“Oh yeah, totally,” I lie. “I talked to them already.”
“I mean, maybe what you did to him has something to do with why he disappeared,” she says casually. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Her head tilts to one side. “Don’t you think?” I walk to my locker without saying anything, trying to buy time. Gina follows me. “What was it?” she asks softly. “A love potion?”
I pull my locker door open too hard, and the bang of the metal echoes through the hallway. “What are you talking about, Gina?” I snap.
“Well, if you guys didn’t know each other at all, I’m assuming you did some … you know.” She wiggles her fingers at me. I stare into my locker, not seeing the contents. I’ve temporarily forgotten what lockers are for, what books are for, where I am. Behind me, a few people are filtering into the hallway.
“You’re assuming I did some what?” I whisper.
“Some magic,” Gina whispers back. I look at her, and she’s smiling at me. It’s a little smile, a secret smile, like we’re sharing something. Like we’re friends. She’s too close. I can smell her lip gloss.
“Some magic,” I repeat slowly.
“You know. Like, how you and your friends do things.”
I come to my senses. It’s like someone’s thrown a bucket of cold water over my head. I laugh, a loud, bright, hard laugh that makes Gina flinch. “Wow,” I say, shoving things from my backpack into my locker at random. “You’re hilarious, Gina. I mean … I didn’t take you for the dark humor type, but honestly, that’s just way too funny.”
She’s looking at me very strangely. “I don’t get you,” she says. “You know I’m not joking. You can tell me.”