I just have to convince him to keep quiet about everything, so he can stay safe.
I arrive at our hideout. It’s as magical as ever, but draped in yellow tape and veiled in a darkness that can never be lifted, no matter how much sunlight streams through the crowded evergreens.
Still, I hope once we’re together in our special place, he’ll have to forgive me. He’ll have to listen to me.
I do a quick scan for cops and duck under the tape. When I get through the trees, I kick aside the vines and grass. I pull aside the tarp and step down, using the wooden crate. It had been such a pain to haul that big block of wood out here. We ended up having to rent a shiny red wagon from a neighbor kid in exchange for a pack of Twizzlers. The crate had a dual purpose though, acting as a tiny table whenever we needed to write prank letters or share a hobbit-sized snack.
Once inside, I sit against the splintered boards and wait for Gideon. Leaves crunch, and whatever’s gripping my insides loosens. I didn’t really think he would stand me up, but I’m relieved to see his face lowering into the hideout before me.
“Hey.” I take in the familiar scent of his shampoo mixed with playing football in the grass, the sight of his truant’s smirk and those deep, dark eyes. I’ve missed him, even if we haven’t been apart long. Our fight created a chasm between us.
And in the fading light of dusk, I notice that Gideon’s winsome smile lines have vanished and instead, harsh creases gather on his forehead and between his brows. He won’t meet my eyes, like he’s afraid to.
“Thanks for coming.”
He nods tersely. “What do you need, Cass?” It’s absurd to need a reason to meet Gideon, and the question hits me like a volleyball to the gut.
“I don’t want things to be like this anymore. I miss you.”
Gideon shakes his head slowly. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Why?” I shrug, pleading. “I know you’re mad that I’ve kept things from you, but I didn’t have a choice. I tried to help Melody. I went with you to spy on Seth.”
“And bailed before we got anywhere! And then, what, you felt sick when the detectives wanted to talk?”
“No, Giddy. I—someone sent me something. A threat.”
Gideon’s eyes widen and he inches closer. Overhead, an eerie wind sings through the trees. “What are you talking about?”
“I got a text after Seth’s house, threatening to pin the whole thing on me. That’s why I couldn’t go with you to talk to the detectives.”
His head slumps forward and he passes a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. I try to touch his arm, but he recoils. Like I’m some sort of diseased creature.
Maybe I am.
“It was kids from school messing with you, Cass.”
“No, Giddy.”
But his eyes are lost. “I should’ve helped her,” he says into his hands. “I should’ve listened to you. At least she would’ve had a chance. Now she’s probably dead”—his voice breaks—“and I let it happen.”
A rogue tear drips down his face until he swats it away. Despite all the times he’s comforted me through a cry, I can’t remember Gideon tearing up since his dog died in third grade. Sorrow writhes in my chest. I want to reach for him, but I keep my distance, worried he’ll bat me away like that solitary tear.
“Please, just listen. I know who did it.”
His head lifts slowly. “Who?”
“You have to promise you won’t go to the cops or confront this person. Not until we have proof.”
“Tell me.”
I take in a tremulous breath, the scent of damp wood doing little to aid my voice. “Brandon.”
Gideon draws back. “What?”
“He’s hiding Melody’s necklace in a box in his jacket pocket.”
“He’s your brother’s best friend.”
“And I don’t trust him! Have you seen the missing-person posters?” They’re plastered all over town; they’re hard to miss.
He hesitates, but half nods.
“The gold necklace with the musical note. I think Brandon has it.”
“You think?” Gideon lifts a hand impatiently and releases a pathetic laugh. “Oh, good. As long as you think, then we might as well go to Brandon’s house and tie him up ourselves. Is this about the diner? Something did happen between you two, didn’t it?” For a second, his eyes soften and he reaches for me. “Did he hurt you?”
Tears sting behind my eyes. “No, Giddy, nothing happened.”
“Then what is it?” His voice is raised and hoarse. “What is your goal here, Cass? The fire hasn’t made your life easy, I get that. And Brandon’s ex is the worst of your tormentors. But do you really think this story about him is going to make things better for you?”
His words strike and stab like nails. This story. Daylight has dwindled. Gideon’s dark eyes recede into the wooden walls around us, leaving me nothing to grab on to. I wipe away tears and peer into the dark. I can’t see my best friend’s eyes, but I know they’re glowering at me.
I could fix this. I could tell him about Brandon and the party, about the notebook. I could make him see it’s not just a story. But Gideon doesn’t trust me anymore.
Which means I can’t trust him. I don’t know what he’d do with my secrets.
Gideon’s foot creaks on the crate. Light barely trickles in through the treetops. I forgot my flashlight. We’ll become stranded out here once those few rays are extinguished.
Nothing has gone as planned. There is no forgiveness. No hug. No see you tomorrow. Not even a supportive hand offered as we pick ourselves up out of the hole in the ground. Instead, shrouded in twilight, we trudge and stumble our way back through the pines, the sound of twigs snapping like brittle bones beneath our feet.
14
In the morning, my mom tells me the whole town is helping to search for Melody. My heart drops—I watch enough true crime shows to know this means that the cops have already given up on finding her alive. Every day that goes by decreases our chances of finding her, and Melody disappeared on Tuesday. Four days ago.
But if the whole town is participating, Brandon might be there, which means I can pump him for information.
Asher and I walk toward the woods behind my neighborhood, Sheriff Henderson’s instructions fresh in our ears. My parents paired off to search the forested area behind the diner. Asher studies the small area circled in red on our map. I peek at the map, trying to calm my nerves. I’ve managed to keep some amount of hope alive—that Melody simply ran away from this tiny town in search of bigger things. That she was abducted but will connive her way into getting released, the way she conspired to get me left behind last year for our away game against Millington. Even hope that this is all some sick joke she’s playing to torment me.