[Anh Ngữ] Forget Me - K. A. Harrington (English)

[Khổng Lồ Một Mắt]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 10
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

Friday night, we took Wingate Road from the center of town. Reece drove, with Toni in the passenger seat and me—the thirdwheel—in the back.

“I offered to pick Evan up,” Reece said as we stopped at a light. “But he said he’d meet us there. I think he’s still scared of you.”

Toni chuckled.

“Very funny.” I crossed my arms and looked out the window. “Where are we going anyway?”

Reece’s eyes flicked to mine in the rearview. “Happy Time Mini Golf.”

“Awesome!” Toni turned in her seat. “You’ve been wanting to go there. Do you have your camera with you?”

“No, but I can plan out some shots.” I smiled. Reece had chosen the place specifically because he knew I’d like it. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“See that beauty up there?” Reece let up on the gas and slowed past a house up on a hill, surrounded by a black irongate. We had a lot of nice houses in town, but this one was even bigger. It reminded me of Evan’s house in Littlefield. “Some night we’ll party there. It’s the King Mother of houses.”

“King Mother is a contradiction,” Toni said.

Reece gave her a playful look. “Fine, it’s the Queen Mother. No one lives there right now, I think, so I doubt there’s a secu- rity system. But that gate around the property is locked, and there’s no side street nearby to easily hide all the cars. One of these days, though, I’ll figure out the best way to conquer it. And we will party!”

Toni snorted. “Such lofty ambition you have. And to think some people want to cure cancer.”

“There will be plenty of time for that once I get out of River’s End,” Reece said. “But for now . . . a guy’s got to have a short- term goal.”

I had to hand it to him, Reece was good at organizing. He worked with what we had. City kids had rooftop parties. Coun- try kids took over barns. We had empty places.

Minutes later we parked in the lot for Happy Time Mini Golf. I twisted in my seat to quickly take in every corner. No sign of Evan.

“He’ll be here,” Reece said, reading my mind. “I’m going to get the stuff ready.”

He got out and popped the trunk. Toni reached for the door handle, but I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “Wait a sec.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, turning to face me. “I’m here. So if the guy’s a weirdo, we can just—”

“It’s not that,” I interrupted. “It’s Reece.” “We already know he’s a weirdo.”

“No. Just . . .” I sighed. “I know this isn’t a real date and you’re not into it, but do me a favor and be nice to him.”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Morgan. Did you think I was go- ing to be rude all night? I’m not a stone cold bitch, just a room temperature one.”

“I know. It’s just . . . he’s actually not that bad. Keep an open mind.”

She looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “Focus on your own fake date and I’ll worry about mine.”

“Heads up!” Reece called from outside.

A plain, gray sedan pulled into the lot and parked beside us. My muscles tensed as I saw Evan behind the wheel. Knowing the size of the house this guy lived in, I’d been expecting him to drive something a little more flashy. But I was kind of glad that he didn’t. He killed the engine and got out, wearing jeans and a black fleece jacket.

“Time to go!” Toni said, and bounded out of the car.

I followed wordlessly, my throat feeling suddenly tight. I had no idea why Evan wanted to see me again. I kept my eyes on the pavement as I stepped toward him, admiring the hardy weeds that pushed through the cracks. When I was close enough to see the cuffs of his dark jeans, I looked up.

I had to hold back the gasp that wanted to escape from my mouth. Flynn’s cheekbones, Flynn’s nose, Flynn’s mouth. Memories flashed in my mind. I tried to focus on the differences. Evan’s hair: shorter and a lighter shade than Flynn’s. His eyes: the same color as Flynn’s, but these seemed to hold more life in them. More curiosity. And there was that dimple.

“Hey,” he said with a cautious smile “Hey,” I said back.

This was . . . awkward. Do we shake hands or what?

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his fleece, taking away that option. But then he took a step closer. Just one. Like he was testing the waters. And he never for a second took his eyes off mine. Like he was waiting for me to do something. What, I didn’t know.

Well, two could play this game. I could act just as standoff- ish. I stood mutely, never breaking my stare.

“I’m Evan,” he said, ending the silence. “Morgan.”

The way he watched me made me feel like a display in a museum. Like he was trying to figure me out, see into my head.

I stared back.

Toni cleared her throat. “Okay, this isn’t weird at all.” “Yeah, let’s play.” Reece pointed at the sky. “We only have an

hour until the sun sets.”

As if suddenly remembering there were two other people here, Evan looked around. “Why did we meet here?”

Reece patted him on the back. “I figured we’d let our out- of-towner experience one of River’s End’s traditional pastimes. Welcome to Happy Time Mini Golf.”

Evan gave us a puzzled look and pointed at the giant sign that said, For Sale or Lease Commercial Property. “It’s closed.” “Don’t worry.” Reece walked back to the trunk. “I’ve got that covered.” He pulled out four golf clubs and a plastic bag with a bunch of balls. He held a club out to Evan. “Welcome to River’sEnd. Where everything’s closed.”

Evan looked at each of us in turn and grinned. “So you just bring your own clubs and play?”

“Yep,” Toni said. “No one cares.”

“The clubs are my dad’s,” Reece explained. “The balls are all white so we have to play through each hole one by one. But it’s free and we have the place to ourselves.”

Evan nodded, looking impressed. Toni grabbed the bag from Reece and started looking through it. Even though all the balls were the same, she wanted to choose hers.

I looked back at Evan and caught him staring at me. “Have you ever done this before?” I asked. “A blind date?”

With a sly smile, he said, “Is it blind?”

“Well, I don’t know you,” I said, filling the last word with meaning.

“But you came up to me at the party.” “And you ran away.”

His eyes flashed in amusement. Part of me had expectedhim to have Flynn’s voice—the lips were the same. But Evan’s voice was different. It was confident, almost playful. Flynn had a deeper voice, but had always spoken softly, like every word was a secret. Toni asked me once why he always had to be so “mumbly” that she could barely understand him. But I under- stood him.

Or I thought I had.

“You know what would make this even more fun?” Evan said it loud, as if to the group, but his eyes were only on me.

“What?” I answered.

The side of his mouth lifted up. “If we had a friendly wager.” “Like strip mini golf?” Reece said. “I’m in!”

“Gross,” Toni muttered.

I gave Reece a look that said, Tone it down. Then I turned back to Evan. “What did you have in mind?”

“A game. To get to know each other better. Like Truth or Dare but only Truth. Whoever wins the hole gets to ask a per- son in the group one question, and they have to answer.”

I gave him a carefree shrug. “You’re on.”

Toni laughed. “Oh, Evan. You’re in trouble. All your secrets are going to come out tonight.”

“We’ll see,” he said, still looking right at me.

“You’ve underestimated how competitive Morgan is,” Toni warned.

“And she’s underestimated how good a putter I am.”

Reece whistled. “This should be interesting.” He led usthrough the busted front gate to the first hole. Motioning to Toni, he held his arm out. “Ladies first.”

Toni mock curtsied and readied herself at the tee. Bricks surrounded each green. Some cigarette butts and gum mottled the turf, but it was mostly playable. This hole was simple—kidney shaped with a boulder centered on the turf as an obstacle. Someone had spray-painted a penis on the rock.

“I like the graffiti,” I said. “It adds to the ambience.” “Classes the place up,” Evan agreed.

Toni scowled. “Quiet on the green. I need to concentrate so I can win this hole and ask the first question.” Then she winked at me and completely blew the shot. It ricocheted off the boul- der and bounced onto the next green.

She smiled. “Whoops!”

That’s my Toni, I thought. Master of subtlety.

A few more whoopsies later, she finally maxed out at six strokes and gave up. Reece motioned for me to go, being the next lady and all. I crafted a strategy to aim at the bricks to the right of the boulder, hoping the ball would bounce past it and into the hole. I glanced up. Evan was watching me carefully, as if studying my putting strategy would answer whatever ques- tion he had in his head.

I took a deep breath, lined up the putt, and went for it. It hit the bricks where I wanted and missed the hole by an inch. But I tapped it in for an easy two.

Reece went next and also scored a two. I chewed my lip.If only he’d gotten a three, then I’d be in the clear lead. Evan would probably get a three or a two himself.

“What happens in the event of a tie?” Reece asked.

“We skip a round,” Evan answered, not looking up from his club. “Though that won’t be necessary.”

With a metallic click, his putter gently hit the ball. I thought it was too soft at first, but then it ricocheted off the bricks right where mine had . . . and rolled into the hole.

Evan smiled. “I win.”

I had to admit, that smile was pretty sexy. And infectious. Every time he flashed it, I had to smile back, like my body had an involuntary response.

“So who are you going to ask?” Reece said, adding under his breath, “Obvious.”

Evan gripped the handle of his putter with both hands. “Morgan.”

I stiffened. “Go ahead.”

He barely even paused. “Had you ever seen me before the night of Reece’s party?”

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 11
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but that question wasn’t it. It was interesting, though, and I didn’t know how to respond. I had seen Evan online, yeah, but that didn’t count. He meant in person.

“No,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”

He made a tsk-tsk gesture with his finger. “You don’t get to ask a question until you win a hole.”

I groaned playfully at his rules, but inside my mind was racing. He wouldn’t have asked that unless he thought there was a chance I had seen him before. Why would he think that?

“Next hole!” Toni called, racing ahead of us.

On this one, we had to launch the ball up a metal slide and through a clown’s mouth. Clowns are creepy in general, but this one was even more so, because it was (a) giant, (b) made of paint-chipped plastic, and (c) missing an eyeball. Toni took three tries to get up the clown’s tongue/slide, then two more to get in the hole. I was starting to wonder how much of it was an act to help me win and how much she just sucked at mini golf.

I lined up at the tee, took a couple of practice swings, then hit. I knew right away it was a good putt—not too much power, just enough. It went through the clown’s mouth and right into the hole.

I spun around to face Evan. “What do they call that? Oh yeah, a hole-in-one.”

He smirked. “Too bad this will be a tie.”

“Don’t count on it,” I replied in a singsong tone. Reece scored a two, staying consistent.

Evan went next. He took off his jacket and tossed it onto a bench. Underneath he was wearing a plain black T-shirt. As he lined up his shot, my eyes traveled up his forearms and biceps, to the broad shoulder muscles stretching along his back. Reece had mentioned that Evan was a “power hitter” in baseball. It was easy to imagine how good those muscles looked with the shirt off.

Evan glanced at me over his shoulder, as if he could feel my eyes burning into him. I blushed and looked away. Lovely. He’d caught me virtually undressing him. That’s not embarrassing at all.

Evan hit the ball and I forced myself to focus, readying for the plunk as it dropped into the hole. But the telltale sound didn’t come. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Had I . . . rattled him?

He needed two more putts to get it in.

“How many was that, Evan?” I joked. “I lost count.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Ask your question.”

I decided to fire back the same one. “Had you ever seen me before the party at Reece’s?”

Evan blinked quickly, showing a slight slip in his confident composure. “In person?” he asked.

I nodded, surprised that he had the same thought process I’d had.

“No,” he said.

He seemed honest in his answer, but also taken aback by my question. And now it was my turn to wonder. With his “in person” clarification, he’d obviously seen me somewhere.

“Come on, you guys,” Reece called from the next hole.

Toni had already finished by the time Evan and I caught up. “I got a three!” she called.

This hole had a windmill, and you had to get your ball in the door and through the base of the structure. When the course had been open, the windmill was motorized and the blades spun, adding an extra challenge. I’d always been great at this hole. I was patient and had good timing. But now only two of the three blades remained and they didn’t move, taking the challenge away.

“Why don’t I start going second,” Reece suggested. “Since you guys seem to have this thing going on.”

That would also conveniently give Reece more time to hang out with Toni at the other end of each hole while they waited for Evan and me to finish.

Toni didn’t seem too perturbed by the suggestion, so I said, “Sure. Maybe I can intimidate Evan more playing back-to-back.”

Evan laughed from behind me. “You can try . . .”

I kicked at a loose brick while I waited for Reece to finish. I didn’t pay attention to his score, but I doubted he was even paying attention. Reece and Toni had seemed to accept that this truth wager was just between Evan and me now.

Reece finished and sauntered over to the other side. Toni swept her hair to the side and flashed him a huge smile. I was glad she was being nice like I’d asked. And Reece had used my tips. He wore jeans and a long-sleeve button-down shirt. No overpowering cologne, no gaudy sunglasses. His hair even looked better—lightly tousled instead of hard and spiky. He whispered something in her ear and she laughed. Not her fake laugh, either, because I knew the difference.

Now if only I could figure out why Evan looked at me like I was a big mystery, the night would be a complete success.

I was about to line up my shot when Evan walked to the middle of the green. “What are you trying to do,” I said, “distract me?”

“Could I?” he asked with a flirty smile.

I really wished he hadn’t caught me checking him out.

“I’m just thinking we should keep it traditional.” He reached out and spun the blades of the windmill manually. “Unless you’re afraid of a little challenge.”

I hid my grin. “Go for it.”

Evan kept the blades spinning and I watched them, men- tally calculating the distance and speed, waiting patiently for my chance. When I had it, I gave the ball a moderate hit with the club. It went straight, right between the blades and through the open door.

Evan jumped around the windmill to watch it come out the other side. It landed a foot away from the hole. I tapped it in for a two.

“Not bad,” Evan said.

I smiled wickedly. “Your turn.”

Evan stood at the tee and waited for me to start spinning the blades. I wouldn’t cheat. I’d keep the speed steady and consistent. But to reach the windmill without standing on the green itself, I had to tilt way over. I planted my feet on the bricks and leaned forward. My shirt rose slightly as I spun the blades. I felt a kiss of cold air as an inch of skin was exposed to the air.

Evan’s eyes were on me.

He putted and the ball bounced off a blade, knocking it into the corner of the green. He muttered a curse under his breath, and I snickered. It took him three more putts to get it in. His worst score yet.

I strolled up to him. “I believe this one’s mine.” He inhaled deeply. “Go for it.”

“Why did you want to see me tonight?”

“Can’t a guy want to be set up with a pretty girl?” That dimple formed again.

Flattery wouldn’t sway me. I looked straight at him. “The real reason.”

He met my gaze, his eyes searching mine for something. He hesitated, far too long for his answer to be honest. “You intrigue me.”

We stared at each other for several heartbeats. “How so?” I asked.

He held two fingers up. “That’s two questions.”

“This one’s awesome, guys! Come on!” Toni was bouncing up and down at the next tee.

I wasn’t satisfied with Evan’s answer, but he walked off and joined Toni and Reece. I’d have to win another hole and figure out a different approach with a new question.

The next hole had been my favorite before this place closed. It opened with a drawbridge over a water hazard. The small pond used to be the brightest color of blue. I’d thought it was magic until my parents explained that it was just dye. In any case, that beautiful crystal water was now green and thick with algae. Over the drawbridge was a big plastic castle. When you walked inside, it was like you were in a cave. It had felt so cool and refreshing on those hot summer days. Now there was probably a family of rodents living inside. I wasn’t planning to linger.

Toni shot first and did horribly, as usual. Reece went next, then joined her in the castle. Toni’s giggle echoed from the darkness.

“Am I clear to shoot?” I yelled. I didn’t need my hole-in-one ruined when the ball bounced off one of them.
Their shadows moved out of the castle and onto the cracked sidewalk behind it. “The green is clear, Miss Serious Golfer!” Toni yelled back.

Then Reece swore, and I heard muttered sighs of disappointment.

“What’s going on?” Evan shouted.

“The lower half of the course is flooded!” Reece said. “This is the last playable hole!”

Damn it. I had to win this one. I needed more answers.

Evan stepped closer. “No pressure,” he whispered over my shoulder.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply through my nose. I wouldn’t let him get to me. I focused, lifted the club just a tad, and swung. It was a good, strong hit. The ball had no problem getting over the drawbridge and into the castle.

Evan held his arm out. “Let’s see where you ended up.”

We walked over the bridge and peeked into the castle. My ball was against the wall, in a very bad position.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Evan teased. “You can move it away from the wall one club-head length.”

“Thanks, Rules Man,” I mocked, though I knew the rule, too. I’d played here enough. I placed the ball out, but my shot was still tough. I hit it, hoping for a miracle, and didn’t get one. Another putt got the ball in, giving me a total of three. The best I could hope for was a tie.

Evan grinned, resting the club on his shoulder. “My turn.”

My jaw clenched. I followed him out of the castle and stood on the bricks lining the drawbridge. His first putt got him over the bridge easily. I squinted into the darkness of the castle. He was stuck in the same position I’d been, against the wall.

“Good luck,” I said mockingly. “Don’t need it,” he said back.

On the surface he looked just like Flynn, but the more I watched him, the more I saw the differences. Whereas Flynn was skittish and wary, Evan had an easy way about him. Flynn’s look was a bit wild and unkempt, and Evan’s was cleaned up and controlled. But I had to admit, Evan was hot. The kind of hot that made you feel light-headed and happy and maybe a tiny bit scared. Like cresting the first hill on a roller coaster.

He placed the ball one club-head length away from the wall, lined up his shot, and took it. I closed my eyes, hoping for a miss. But the telltale sound told me it had gone in. He won.

I opened my eyes to Evan standing right in front of me. “Why did you shine the flashlight in my face at the party?” he asked.

“I wanted to see who you were.” If you were my dead ex-boyfriend.

Evan raised his eyebrows. “And was I who you were expecting?”

I held up two fingers. “That’s two questions.”

With a laugh, he returned to the hole and grabbed both of the golf balls. He came back to the bridge and handed mine to me, his finger grazing the skin on my hand, sending a tingling charge throughout my entire body.

I stepped back, almost involuntarily, forgetting that I was on the narrow bridge above the pond. Remembering in mid-step, I tried to regain my footing. But the bricks were slick and my foot slipped. I stuck my arms out for balance, but it was too late. I was falling backward. My eyes widened. I opened my mouth to scream.

Evan threw himself forward and grabbed my arms, in an automatic response. He pulled me toward him, roughly, and I landed face-first against his chest. My senses were all on overdrive from the shock of nearly falling. And now they were overwhelmed with him. I could hear his heart beating. His chest rose as he took a deep, relieved breath.

“Sorry,” he said, releasing me. “I hope I didn’t grab you too hard.”

I slowly pulled back. My pulse raced as I looked into his eyes, Flynn’s eyes. But then he smiled and Flynn was gone again, though my heart kept racing. I looked over my shoulder at the gross muck I nearly fell into. It was probably only four feet deep. I wouldn’t have drowned, but I could’ve easily come out diseased.

Evan smirked proudly. “I saved you from a messy, algae-related end.”

Finally finding my voice, I put my hand over my heart and said, “My hero.”

Toni ran over. “Are you okay? I saw you nearly fall in!”

I stepped away from Evan and walked off the little bridge. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Gotta love those fast baseball reflexes,” Reece said. Then he launched into a story about how he was playing first base and caught a foul line drive that would’ve “killed” the kid sitting on the bench if he’d missed it. I thought it was a tad overdramatic, but he was clearly trying any angle to win Toni over.
We walked slowly back to our cars and I wondered what would happen now. Would we go to dinner? It felt too soon to end the night. I wanted to spend more time with Evan, find out more about him. He strode beside me silently. I wished I could hear what he was thinking.

He touched my elbow, stopping me. “Hey . . .” He spoke softly, like this was a conversation only for me.
I let Reece and Toni walk ahead a few steps, putting some distance between us.

“What?” I asked.

Now that the night was coming to an end, Evan’s eyes were less playful and more determined. He licked his lips nervously. “Do you . . . trust me?”

Our eyes locked. Yes, I thought immediately, though I didn’t know why. I barely knew this guy and he obviously had his share of secrets. “Why?” I said instead.

“Because, after tonight, I feel like I can trust you. But I’m not sure.”

“Trust me with what?” I asked. We obviously both had secrets. That’s why we were playing that game tonight, warily dancing around each other’s words.

He scratched the back of his neck. “If I show you my cards, will you show me yours?”

The game continues . . .

“I’ll put them on the table,” I said. “But you first.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “Let’s meet tomorrow. Just the two of us.” His eyes darkened. “I have something you need to see.”

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 12
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

I told Evan I would meet him back at the mini-golf course at noon, so I got there early to take some pictures. Last night had been interesting to say the least. I’d been shocked enough that Evan had wanted to go out with me. But it turned out that he was the one who wanted to figure me out. I couldn’t stop won- dering what he had to show me.

I pulled the camera out of my bag at the first green. I laughed again at the interesting choice of graffiti on the boulder and zoomed in. Click. That creepy clown was a must-shoot, so I went to that hole next. I took a wide shot and a midshot, but that face was begging for a low angled close-up. I knelt on the green turf and checked the display. Not good enough. If I were a bit lower, the open mouth would seem even more menacing. I lay flat on my belly. My shirt would probably be nasty after this, but the photo was worth it. Propping myself on my elbows, I framed and took the shot. Click. Perfect.

That would be one of my favorites, I already knew it. I got up and dusted myself off, then walked to the castle. I knew yesterday that I had to have a photo of this. Once the glorious (by mini-golf standards) highlight of the course, it was now peeling and sad, surrounded by a moat of algae instead of mag- ical blue water.

I focused, then pulled the zoom back to fit the entire cas- tle in the frame. Click. I wondered what kind of shot I could get of the inside with this light. I walked up the drawbridge and paused, remembering a moment from yesterday. Before I nearly fell in the water like an idiot. In that brief instant, after Evan touched my hand, I’d felt sparks. It sounded cliché, but there it was. Sparks. Anytime we spoke during the whole date, the air seemed to crackle between us.
With a guilty lump in my throat, I pushed those thoughts away. Toni had spent the rest of last night trying to convince me that I should not only move on, but move on with Evan. As much as she’d hated Flynn, she immediately liked his “non-evil twin” as she called him. But I couldn’t go there. Flynn had been dead only three months. I should’ve still been in mourning, not swooning over someone new.

“Trying to fall again?” a voice called out. “Be careful, be- cause I might not make it in time to rescue you.”
I straightened and looked over my shoulder to see Evan standing fifty feet away, wearing the same jeans and black fleece as the night before. And the same sexy grin.

I held up my camera. “Just taking some photos.” He moved closer, interested. “Cool hobby.”

“Yeah. And job. I take pictures for the local newspaper sometimes. But this”—I motioned to the rotting golf course— “is for my personal collection.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You ever do self-portraits?”

Strange question. “No. Why?”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Just asking.”

The silence stretched on for an awkward moment. “So,” I said. “You had something to show me?”

He scanned the area and pointed at the only bench not cov- ered in gum or dried bird poop. “Want to sit down?”

For the first time I noticed the messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “Sure.” I followed him to the bench and sat, shivering at the sudden chill in the air.

“This place is kind of creepy, don’t you think?” he asked.

I let my eyes roam. Sure, it was empty, run-down, and al- most eerily quiet. I could see why Evan thought it had a spooky ghost town feel. But I remembered what it had been like be- fore. I could almost hear kids laughing and families roaring applause for a hole-in-one. For me . . . places like this weren’t scary. They were lonely. Yearning for the people to come back. I couldn’t coherently put those thoughts into words to him, though, and I didn’t want him to think I was a head case. So I shrugged and said, “I don’t mind it.”
He turned toward me and our legs touched. I jerked my knee away instinctively, then felt bad as a hurt look crossed his face. But it wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive. I did. I felt something, in that momentary touch. But that’s why I pulled away. My brain was too frazzled to play a game of flirty knees right now. I wanted to find out what he knew.

“Down to business,” he said, opening the messenger bag.

I tensed, from my shoulders to my toes. This was it. His big secret. A feeling came over me, like whatever was in that bag was going to change everything.

He pulled out a large, thin mailing envelope. “I got this in the mail a little over three months ago. It was addressed to me. I assumed it was another college catalog and let it sit on my desk for a couple of days.”
He handed the envelope to me. I eyed it nervously before sliding my finger under the opening and reaching inside. There was only one item. I knew what it was immediately and only by touch. A photograph. I slid it out and my mind exploded.

It was a photo of me.

From the rosebush in the background, I knew I was in my driveway, probably walking from my car to the front door. The foreground was a close-up of my face and shoulders. My fea- tures were passive, completely clueless that someone was hid- ing with a camera, taking my picture.

My voice came out raspy. “Why would someone send you a picture of me?”

“It gets weirder. Flip it over,” Evan said dryly.

On the back were words, written in marker in all caps:

IF YOU EVER SEE THIS GIRL—RUN. DON’T TALK TO HER .
DON’T LOOK AT HER .
JUST LEAVE AND FORGET HER . LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDED ON IT.

Something in my chest twisted. I stared at the words, breathing in and out, trying to make sense of them. My eyes went to Evan, who was watching me warily, like I was about to whip out a knife and stab him because he knew my evil truth. But I had no idea what this meant. None at all.

He looked at me sharply. “Who are you?”

My heart pounded wildly. I shook my head. “I’m Morgan. I’m no one.”

He eyed me doubtfully. “Who took this?” I asked. “I don’t know.”

“Who sent it?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped, sounding almost as scared as I was. “I was hoping you’d have some answers for me.”

I read the words again. “Evan, I don’t know what this could mean at all.”

“Why would someone go through all this effort to warn me about you?”

“I have no idea.” And it was the truth, but I could see now why he’d been so suspicious of me. All of his behavior made sense. Why he was unnerved at the sight of me at the party. And why he’d wanted to see me again. It wasn’t that he’d found himself drawn to me. He was only trying to find out more in- formation to protect himself from me.

“If you have no idea what this means, then why did you show up at a party that I was randomly invited to and shine a flashlight in my face? You want to tell me that’s a coincidence?” The distrust in his voice was obvious.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “The party . . . that was something different.”

“You knew I was going to be there,” he accused. “You knew me.”

I averted my eyes. “Kind of.”
He pulled the picture out of my hand and stared at it. He was losing his patience. “You’d better give me some answers, Morgan. I think I deserve them.”

He was right. It was time to drop the pretense before he became convinced I was a psycho-killer. I took a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of a guy named Flynn Parkman?”

He shook his head.

“Well, he was my boyfriend.”

Something flashed in his eyes—jealousy?—too quickly for me to recognize it. “So?”

I licked my lips nervously. “He looked exactly like you. Not a little **** Like, a lot.”

Unimpressed, Evan said, “I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

I took a deep breath. “Flynn died three months ago in a hit- and-run accident. I’ve been . . . dealing with that. A week ago Toni persuaded me to upload a photo of him to FriendShare and write some cheesy line. Like a closure thing. Flynn wasn’t on FriendShare, but their facial recognition app suggested I tag the picture with your name.”

He studied me as I spoke. “A mistake,” he said. “I’m sure it happens all the time.”

“Yeah, except when I clicked on your name and saw your picture . . .”

He finally caught on. “You thought I really might have been him? What, that he faked his death or something?”

“I didn’t really know what was going on. I just needed to know for sure. Toni noticed you were mutual friends with Re- ece. We got him to invite you to the party so I could see you in person.”

“And that’s why you ambushed me with the light.”

I nodded numbly. “Yeah. And I would’ve been honest with you sooner, but you acted all cagey and afraid of me.”

He looked back down at the picture. “So you honestly don’t know why I got this in the mail?”

“No. And it’s creeping me out.”

He lapsed into silence for a long minute, like he was pro- cessing things. Then he met my eyes. “Were you disappointed that I wasn’t him?”

“To be honest,” I said, “I don’t know.” I let my mind return to that moment and how I’d felt. “If you had been him, that would’ve meant my relationship with Flynn was based on lies and betrayal.”

“But the alternative . . . that I wasn’t him . . .” “Meant he really was dead,” I finished.

He spoke quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’d only known and dated him for about two months.”

“But still.”

I nodded. “It sucks. I think people by nature always want to find closure. And I was almost there . . . until I saw your picture.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “How alike could we really look?”

I remembered that the only photo I had of Flynn was also stored on my phone. I pulled it out of my pocket, scrolled to the photo, and held it up. “Look for yourself.”

As his eyes settled onto the picture, he immediately flinched. He took the phone out of my hands. As he brought it closer, his eyes widened.

A heavy feeling settled into my stomach, watching him go through the same emotions I had when I’d seen his photo on FriendShare. First shock, then confusion.

“How is this possible?” he asked, his voice shaking.

It was strange that I was the calm one now. I’d had more than a week to wonder about this. “It sounds crazy, but is it possible that you have a twin you didn’t know about? Were you adopted?”

He looked up at me with a dazed expression. “No. I have a younger sister, but that’s it. I wasn’t adopted. My father is a twin, but his brother’s dead and he never had any kids of his own.”

“But that means twins are in your bloodline.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Doesn’t it skip a generation or something?”

“Not always, I don’t think.”

He shook his head. “It’s just not possible that I’m a twin.

Why would they separate us? It makes no sense.”

“Well, now that I’ve met you in person, I can tell that you’re not identical.” I pointed at his cheek, though there didn’t seem to be a chance of him smiling anytime soon. “Flynn didn’t have a dimple. And his hair was black, not brown. Is it possible that you have a brother around the same age?”

“No. No, this is just crazy.”

Feeling the urge to comfort him, I gently reached out for his hand. “I’m sorry. I know this has to be overwhelming.”

He looked up sharply, like he’d just remembered something. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing, it’s just . . . a nosy neighbor mentioned a few months ago that she saw me prowling around my own yard, peeking into windows. I knew for a fact I hadn’t been home at that time. I had practice after school. So I told my parents she was a crazy old bat who was seeing things. But what if . . . what if she saw this Flynn guy?”

That made no sense. “Why would he be creeping around your yard?”

“Why would I look exactly like him? I don’t know. All I have right now are questions.”
I gazed around at the empty course, like the answers were hidden somewhere in the graffiti or the rot.
Evan lifted the photo. “Is this your boyfriend’s handwriting?” I gazed down at it and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What, he didn’t write you love letters?” His voice seemed more jealous than teasing, and I wondered why.

“We texted.” I pointed at the words. “But if he had written me love letters, I don’t think he would have written them in menacing all-caps.”

He smirked. “Touché.”

I didn’t know where to go from here. Every time I got an an- swer, it created another question. I rubbed my arms. The chill in the air felt like it had seeped into my bones.

“Tell me about him,” Evan said suddenly.

I thought for a moment. “He was quiet. Thoughtful. Smart.” I paused. “Handsome.”

The side of Evan’s mouth lifted a ****

I twisted my hands in my lap. “He was new here and didn’t have friends that I knew of, but he enjoyed spending time with me. I think. I actually don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

Evan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? He was your boyfriend.”

“But he was . . . private. He didn’t like to talk much about himself. He said his family was messed up. I accepted that and never prodded.”

“But . . . ,” Evan said, sensing there was more.

I shrugged. “But then I found out he’d lied about a lot of things. He wasn’t enrolled in the private school he claimed he went to. He didn’t live at the address he said he lived at. There’s actually no record of his family living in town at all.”

Evan shook his head. “Well, if he’s dead, there has to be a death record or something, right?”

I shrugged. “He only lived here two months. I think his par- ents probably brought his body back to New Hampshire, where they were from. There wasn’t even a funeral or anything here.” “But if he died here, the hospital or someone would have re- cords, right? I’m just guessing—I don’t know how those things
work.”

I hadn’t thought of that. But I did know someone who knew how those things worked. Maybe I could get the truth, once and for all.

I grabbed my camera bag and stood up, dusting off my jeans. “I’m going to look into that.” I hesitated, not really knowing how to end things. “Thanks for . . . showing me the picture.” I knew it had taken a certain amount of trust for him to do that, and I appreciated it.

Evan stood, too, and looked at me, his gray eyes intense. “I don’t want this to be the end.”

My neck flushed hot. “What?”

“This obviously involves me, too. I got the picture in the mail. The guy looks exactly like me.”

Oh. The mystery of Flynn. That’s what he wanted to be a part of. “Give me your number. I’ll let you know what I find out from the death certificate.”

“Do you want to meet here again or—”

“I’ll call you,” I interrupted. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to keep meeting him like this. I didn’t want to get too close.

Though part of me wondered if I already had.

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 13
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

Cooper didn’t work at the Town Hall again until Monday afternoon. I lured Toni to my car with the promise of a ride home and a small detour.

“So what’s the detour?” she asked, tossing her bag into the backseat.

“Town Hall. I need another favor from your brother.” “Blergh.” She rolled her eyes. “I see enough of that guy at home.”

I turned the keys and the engine roared to life. “You’ll miss him when he leaves for college in the fall. Admit it.”

“Maybe a little.” She pointed a finger at me. “But if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll text-blast the shaving cream picture of you from the fifth-grade sleepover to everyone we know.”

“That’ll only get me pity. My best friend accosted me in my sleep and kept photographic evidence. What a monster she is.” Toni laughed. I followed the line of cars out of the school parking lot. When we made it to the road, she said, “Speaking of pictures, did you have any brainstorms over who would send something like that to Evan?”

Toni and I had spent Sunday together at my house, doing homework and watching a movie, and I’d filled her in on everything from my meeting with Evan.

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would I be a danger to anyone?”

I realized too late that the light had turned red, and slammed on my brakes. My worn tires squealed in protest.

“Your driving is a danger to everyone,” Toni said. I gave her a look. “You’re distracting me.”

“Okay, I won’t ask you any more thought-provoking questions for the rest of the drive.” She mimicked zipping her mouth closed.

But as I was watching her, the light turned green. The car behind me beeped its horn.

Toni’s mouth zipper busted open with a loud laugh. Minutes later, we walked into the Town Hall and found Cooper sitting at the front desk. At the sight of us, he stood and grinned. “Two dog licenses it is! That will be fifty bucks.”

He held his hand out and Toni slapped it, hard. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

Cooper looked at me. “Morgan, you know I’m kidding, right?”

Their little sibling squabbles usually entertained me, but I didn’t have the patience for it right then. “I need your help again,” I said, getting right to the point.

Toni put her hands on her hips. “And now you have to help since you called us dogs.”

Cooper held his hands up in defeat. “I am at your service.” I took a deep breath. “Can anyone see a death certificate?”

Cooper raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Death certificates are considered public domain documents.”

“Can I see Flynn’s?”

“We wouldn’t have it here. He didn’t live here, remember?”

“Would it be filed in New Hampshire, where he was from?”

“First off, you don’t even know if that New Hampshire back-story he told you was true. But, no, death certificates are always filed in the state where the person died. He died at the Littlefield Medical Center, right?”

“Yes,” I said, remembering the feeling of his heart beating beneath my hand as they placed him on a gurney and put him in the ambulance.

“Then it would be filed in Littlefield.” Evan’s town. I nodded. “Okay, I’ll go there.”

“Wait,” he said. “Let me make a quick phone call. I’ll meet you guys out front.”

I shared a look with Toni, but trusted Cooper enough to do what he said. Toni and I walked back outside where I’d parallel parked my car. Toni leaned against the hood and crossed her arms while I paced the sidewalk.

“I’m going out with Reece again next weekend,” she blurted out.

I gaped at her. “What?”

She shrugged and a playful little grin lit up her face. “You were right. He’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad’ isn’t a great reason to date a guy.”

“Okay, he’s more than that. In school he’s always been a giant toolface. But it’s an act. It’s like he pretends to be this character that he thinks everyone will like. But underneath, he’s actually really sweet and nice. And, one-on-one, I really like him.”

“Yeah, but what are you going to do? Date him on the weekends and hate him during the week when he’s Too Cool Reece?” “I think he’s dropping the act. He was my Reece in school today.”

“Your Reece?” This made me a little worried. Toni didn’t fall often, but when she did, it was a twenty-story drop.

“Okay, not my Reece. Regular Reece.” She beamed. “I think I bring out the best in him.”

I reminded myself not to form an opinion too quickly. After all, I was the one who told her to take it easy on him. I just didn’t realize that to her that meant end up crazy for him after one weekend.

“Well, I’m happy for you then.” She smiled. “Thanks.”

The door of the Town Hall opened and Cooper strode over to us.

“Don’t waste your time,” he called.

I blinked. Had he somehow already gotten his hands on the certificate? No. His expression didn’t exactly make me feel like good news was on its way.

He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I suspected this, since everything else he told you was a lie. But I didn’t want to say anything until I could be sure.”

The jagged edge of the car keys bit into my palm as I closed my fist. “What is it?”

“I called the Littlefield Town Hall and asked them to look up the death certificate for Flynn Parkman. They don’t have one.” “I thought you said they would have to because he died in their town.”

“That’s the law, yeah.”

“So what does this mean?” Toni asked.

Cooper met my gaze. “It can be only one of two things. Either your boyfriend’s name wasn’t Flynn Parkman... or he’s not dead.”

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 14
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

I brought Toni home and collapsed on the couch in my empty house. Nothing was what it seemed. Flynn had done nothing but lie to me, maybe even about his own name. And who sent a picture of me to Evan?

A dark, awful thought wriggled into my brain like a parasite. What if no one had sent that photo? What if Evan took it himself and wrote the warning to get me to trust him? It was a nutball theory, but it wasn’t crazier than anything else that was going on.

My cell rang. I gazed down at the number. Speak of the devil. I held the phone in my hand, suddenly unsure. My finger hovered over the answer button. I let it ring two more times, then in one jerky motion, hit the green button and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Evan.”

“Um, hey.” He sounded nervous. Not in a suspicious way. More like that adorable “boy on the phone” way. I forced myself to focus.

“I was just calling to see if you’d gotten anywhere with the, um, death certificate thing. But if you’re busy, I can call you back. Or you can call me when you’re—”

“It was a bust,” I cut in. I told him what we’d found out, and the two choices I was left with. Flynn was never Flynn . . . or he was still alive.

“So what are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know what I can do. I can’t just walk into the hospital and start asking questions. They have all those patient privacy rules.”

“What about the cops?” he said. “River’s End is where the hit-and-run happened, right? The police would have details, because they investigated it.”

“Yeah, but . . . can I just walk into a police station and start asking questions?” It was probably more public than private info, but this wasn’t like bothering Cooper at his after-school job.

“We’re in this together, right?” Evan asked.

That awful thought popped up again. That Evan might not have been telling me the whole truth. But what other choice did I have?

“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”

“Then let me pick you up after school tomorrow. I have an idea that might get us some answers.”

• • •

Evan said he was coming to my house right after school. I knew we got out at the same time, but he had to come from Littlefield. So I had time to drop Toni off first, ignoring her repeated requests to come with us, and then ignoring her accusations that I wanted to go alone with Evan not because it was simpler, but because I wanted to “mack out on his face” in the car.

Now I sat on my front steps, left leg bouncing up and down. I wondered if maybe I should wait inside. If sitting on the steps made me look too desperate. But it wasn’t a date. I shouldn’t have cared how anxious I looked. Before I could change my mind, his gray sedan turned the corner and slid into my driveway, sunlight glinting off the windshield. Right on time.

I got in the passenger side. The car smelled nice, clean. I clicked the seat belt into place, feeling Evan’s eyes on me every second. I glanced over, and it was the first time I saw him and didn’t have a rush of Flynn memories. He was completely Evan to me now. A separate person, despite the looks.

“Ready to go?” he asked with a grin. And there was that feeling again. His smile kick-started a butterfly convention in my stomach.

“As soon as you tell me where we’re going,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

He carefully backed out of my driveway and turned onto the road. “The River’s End Police Department.”

“We’re just going to march in and start asking questions?”

“Nope. I told you I could help. I know somebody there. Or, rather, my family does. We can ask him anything. He won’t mind.”

I nervously ran my hand up and down the seat belt. I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, but whatever got us answers. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Minutes later we were downtown, parked, and walking into the station. The building was small and quiet, not like those loud, busy police stations you see on TV. A receptionist sat behind a heavy glass window.

I hung back as Evan approached her. “Can I speak with Officer Reck, please?”

She barely glanced up. “Your name?”

“Evan Murphy.”

The receptionist lifted the phone to her ear, muttered a few quick words into the receiver, and then placed it back down. “He’ll be with you in just a moment.”

I busied myself by staring at the memos and flyers posted on a bulletin board. There was an out-of-date winter street parking ban, a trash-dumping notice, pedestrian street-crossing safety guidelines, and a sheet with the FBI’s top ten most wanted, including thumbnail photos. As if any of them would be in River’s End.
The door to the lobby opened, and an intimidating-looking man in police blues entered the room. Evan was tall and athletically built, but this guy dwarfed him. He was the size of an NFL linebacker. His head was shaved. The lines carved into his face placed him in his midforties. And, at the sight of Evan, he broke out into a huge smile. I had the feeling it was something most people didn’t get to see.

He gave Evan a pat on the shoulder that probably would’ve knocked me over. “How’s it going, little man?”

“Great!” Evan said. “It’s good to see you.”

“I probably shouldn’t call you little man anymore, though, huh? You’re bigger than your dad now, I .”

“I am.”

“Still hitting those balls over the fence?”

“Every game.”

“Atta boy.” Officer Reck glanced over at me. “Who’s the beauty? Your girlfriend?”

Evan blushed. “Um, no, this is—”

“I’m his friend,” I cut in.

“That’s too bad.” He gave Evan a meaningful look. Evan’s face turned even redder.

“We’re actually here for me,” I said, wanting to end Evan’s torture. “I was hoping to find out something about a death that happened about three months ago?”

He slid a palm over his giant dome of a head. “What death is that?”

“A hit-and-run on a teenaged boy. On Lincoln Road.”

Nodding slowly, he said, “I remember that. Follow me.”

He turned and led us down a narrow hallway. Evan and I followed closely. He pointed to a small desk that was strewn with Styrofoam coffee cups and papers. “Have a seat there. Don’t mind the mess. Maid’s day off.”

I sat stiffly in a hard plastic chair while Evan settled into the one beside me. “So he’s a family friend?” I whispered.

“Yeah. He and my dad go way back. I knew he could help.”

A moment later the cop returned with a file in his hand. He sat down on the other side of the desk, the chair groaning beneath him. He opened the file and read quietly for a moment, I assumed reacquainting himself with the case. Then he snapped the folder shut.

“Okay, what are you here to find out?” he asked.

Only everything, I thought. My throat tightened as I prepared to ask the question.

Evan leaned forward in the chair and asked before I could. “Did the boy die?”

The officer looked from Evan to me and back. “Can I ask why you want to know?”

I exhaled hard. “He was my boyfriend.”

“And you don’t know if he’s dead or alive?” he asked skeptically. “I thought he was dead . . .” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to get into every little detail. “But, long story short, either he’s alive or he gave me a fake name.”

Officer Reck tapped his fingers against the folder. “What did he say his name was?”

“Flynn Parkman.”

He looked at me differently, then. With pity, perhaps. He opened his mouth, and before the words came out, I knew what they were. I could feel them slithering around me, tightening across my chest.

“I’m sorry to be the one to break the bad news,” he began. “The boy is dead. He died at the Littlefield Medical Center. And his name wasn’t Flynn Parkman.”

A hole opened in my heart. Grief, betrayal, all the emotions I’d felt over the last few days rushed through me. He was dead and a liar. Evan kept glancing at me, as if to make sure I was all right. I didn’t want to lose it. Not here, not now.

I forced the words out of my throat. “What was his real name?”

The officer glanced down at the file. “James Bergeron.”

James, I thought. So classic, so ordinary. It sounded wrong in my mind. But the Flynn in my mind wasn’t real. James was real. That’s who he was whether I liked it or not.

“Is his family still living in town?” I asked. Officer Reck shook his head. “He was a runaway.”

My head rocked back. I knew his family life had been bad, he’d told me as much. But to run away? “Does his family know that he’s dead?”

A dark look crossed the officer’s face. Not pity, something worse. “He had no family.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“He lived in a foster home in New Hampshire and—for unknown reasons—left and settled somewhere in the area here.” A thousand possibilities ran through my mind. Had he stopped here on his way to somewhere else, met me, and stayed? Was he always planning to move on? Is that why he’d broken up with me? He was ready to go on to the next town and keep running . . .

Or had he chosen River’s End on purpose and I was merely a complication? If so, why had he been here?
Officer Reck crossed his meaty hands on top of the desk. “When you and this boy were together, where did he bring you? What was his address?”

I chewed my lip. “Um, he was . . . private. He said his family life was bad. So he only came to my house. I never went to his.”

“Where did you meet?”

For some reason, I didn’t want to share that. I wanted to keep one thing for myself. And a gut feeling deep down told me to lie. “At Happy Time Mini Golf,” I blurted.

I could see Evan looking at me out of the corner of my eye. He was probably wondering why I hadn’t mentioned that when we were sitting there on the bench Saturday. I could see the distrust start to creep back into his expression.

I didn’t like how this had changed from me asking questions to me being questioned. I’d gotten what I came for. There was no reason to stick around.

I stood and held out my hand. “Thanks for your help, Officer Reck. I’ll let you get back to work now.”
He stood slowly, as if reluctant to let me go. He took my hand and shook it, gently, but I still felt like I was facing off against a bear.

I started walking back toward the lobby, not even waiting for Evan. He caught up with me outside, halfway to the car.

“Sorry,” he said, slowing his jog to a walk. “I had to say my good-byes.”

“No problem. I just wanted to get out of there. I know the truth now.” I stopped by the passenger side of his car, but Evan made no move to unlock the door.

He stared at me, through me. “You lied to him about the mini-golf place.”

I answered simply. “Yes.”

“Why?” He didn’t ask where Flynn and I had met. He only wanted to know why I’d lied to the cop.

“I don’t know, fully,” I answered. “I just wanted to keep it to myself. That memory.”

“Is it true that James refused to ever bring you to his house?” I winced at the name. “Can we keep calling him Flynn? James just sounds wrong.”

“Whatever you want.” He hesitated. “Is it true? He never told you anything?”

It made Flynn sound terrible. And, yes, Flynn was broody and negative and all those dark things, but—until that terrible night—he seemed to adore me. He made me feel special. Who doesn’t like feeling special? But I couldn’t explain that to Evan. It made me feel stupid. Like a dumb girl with a crush who accepted whatever scraps her boyfriend was willing to toss her.

“Yes, it’s true,” I said softly.

Surprise registered on Evan’s face. “And you put up with that?”

“What?”

“Well, it’s just that you don’t seem like the type to put up with any bull.”

I liked that he saw me that way. I tilted my chin up a little higher. “Maybe I was then. Maybe I’m changing.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “You deserve to be treated better than that.”

I snorted. “Now you sound like Toni.”

He raised his eyebrows. “She didn’t like him?”

I smirked. “Not at all.” But it was clear now that she’d been right not to trust Flynn all along. I should’ve listened to her.

I gazed up at Evan. He was staring at me with an expression so intense, it made my knees tremble. He wanted to kiss me. I could see it in his eyes, in his slightly parted lips.

But I couldn’t give that to him, even after everything he’d done for me today. Instead, I slipped my arms around his neck and gave him a hug. I’d expected Flynn’s outdoorsy scent, but Evan smelled like soap and shampoo. Clean and fresh.

The two of them were different in every way.

I pulled back, and the look in his eye was gone. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 15
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

Back when both my parents worked down the street at Stell, we had family dinner at home five nights a week. Now that was a rare occasion. Dad usually ate on the train on the way home from the city. Mom shoved a sandwich into her mouth while driving from one job to the next. And I helped myself to whatever I could scrounge in the cabinet. I’d been planning on heating up a can of SpaghettiOs for myself when Evan dropped me off, but my parents were actually both home.

I walked through the front door, expecting the inquisition. Where were you? Your car was in the driveway. Who were you with? But as I slid off my shoes and padded toward the kitchen, I heard it again. That insistent whispering.

They thought I was upstairs in my room. They hadn’t even come up to say hi to me. They were so lost in their own world that they didn’t hear my footsteps, didn’t notice me until I entered the kitchen.

Dad’s eyes widened and he gave a slight shake of his head, a silent message to Mom that it was time to stop talking about it. Whatever it was.

I stood in front of the refrigerator, where a crayon drawing I’d made of our family hung beneath a happy-face magnet. I’d made the picture when I was eight, but Mom refused to take it down.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Just trying to figure out what to make for dinner,” Mom said cheerily. But it was fake. Oh, so fake.

“Were you fighting?” I posed the question to my dad since Mom was already halfway down Cover-Up Road.

“Of course not,” he said, joining her.

Mom made for the fridge, but I didn’t budge. “Can you move, honey? I want to see what we have for food.”

“Why are you both home?” I asked. “Isn’t it early?”

“It’s a wonderful coincidence that we both got out early,” Mom said. “It’s not often we get to have family dinners anymore.”

“Yes,” Dad piped up. “Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Wonderful. We’d moved on to clichés. Whatever was going on, they weren’t about to let me in. Not tonight anyway. I moved aside to let Mom open the fridge. She smiled with her mouth closed.

Mom quickly made spaghetti and we sat around the table, eating and talking about things that didn’t matter. The weather should be warming up soon. That tree in the backyard is dead; it’ll probably have to come down. How is the yearbook photography coming, Morgan?

I thought about telling them everything. That I had found a boy who looked just like Flynn. That Flynn had lied. That I’d been looking into his past, trying to figure out the truth. But the words stuck in my throat. I didn’t want to worry them, to add to their stress. And—I’m not proud of this—a small part of me didn’t want to share with them because I was angry that they were keeping secrets from me.

By the time I got up to my room, I had three missed calls from Toni. I crawled on top of my covers, called her back, and filled her in on everything Evan and I had found out.

“Whew.” She let out a long breath. “So how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hi, Morgan? This is me, Toni, your best friend. The one you actually tell the truth to.”

I let out a small laugh.

“So how about you tell me how you’re really doing?”

I shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. “Flynn was already dead, so it’s not like I’m grieving all over again.”

“But?” she prodded.

“But it hurts that he lied to me about everything. And I don’t know why. I don’t understand it.” I think that was the worst part of it. That I didn’t know why.

And meanwhile, something was going on with my parents.

Something they didn’t want to burden me with. I wondered if one of them was losing their job again. If we were at risk of losing the house. My mind sprinted to all the worst-case scenarios. But I couldn’t share those worries with Toni, because she was living the family drama that I only feared.

“What did you do today?” I asked.

She let out a dreamy sigh and started rattling off every detail of her afternoon with Reece. I was delighted that she was happy, even though I didn’t fully trust Reece yet. He still hadn’t proved to me that he’d left that whole Too Cool act behind. But as she relayed every “totally cute” thing he said, my mind wandered.
Why had Flynn been in River’s End? Did he just pick the town randomly? Could it really be a coincidence that a boy who looked just like him lived a couple of towns over?

I looked back on certain memories differently now, knowing the truth. Like when he told me his name. Had there been any sign it was a lie? Had his eyes flicked around, taking in the surroundings . . . coming up with the last name Parkman because we were standing in a closed amusement park?

“You’re not listening to me . . . ,” Toni singsonged into the phone.

“Sorry.” I groaned. “I’m a bad friend right now. I’m not all here.”

“So where are you?”

“Thinking about Flynn, the day we met, when the lies began.”

Silence hung between us for a long moment. Toni said quietly, “You still haven’t been back there. To Fantasy World.”

“Not past Larry the Lion, no. But I want to. I’ve wanted to take more shots there for a while. I imagine they’ll be the crown jewel of my portfolio of abandoned places.”

Toni snorted. “Your pictures are creepy and you are some kind of weird, Morgan Tulley. But it’s time.”

“For what?”

“For you to return to the place where you met Flynn Parkman. Tomorrow after school. I’ll be your moral support. Bring your camera.”

King’s Fantasy World wasn’t a big amusement park, even when it had been open. It billed itself as “family amusements,” which meant it was for little kids. At around ten years old it became cool to not care about the park anymore, though we all still secretly liked it as we outwardly called it lame. Kids didn’t really stop coming until they were teens. But the park closed when I was twelve, so I never had the chance to fully outgrow it.

Having something taken away before you’re ready to let go always hurts.

Now, Larry the Lion bared his plastic teeth at Toni and me. Warning us not to go past the fence. As easily as River’s End teens played at the empty Happy Time Mini Golf, we avoided King’s Fantasy World. There were too many darkened corners and hidden dangers.

Toni gazed up at the fence. “Do we just . . . climb it?”

I remembered the last time I’d climbed that fence, the day I met Flynn. I’d nearly hanged myself by my camera strap while scrambling over the top. There had to be an easier way.

“Hold on a sec,” I told her. I followed the fence, letting my fingers trail along the chain-links, until I came to a sharp point.

“Oww!” I pulled my hand away.

Toni hurried to my side. “What happened?”

I squeezed my finger where an angry scratch stung my skin. “The links are cut here,” I said, realizing what I’d found.

I pulled hard, stretching the edges open as far as they’d go. “Squeeze through,” I told Toni.

She slipped inside easily, then held the hole open for me. The metal grazed my arm, fraying an inch of my sweatshirt, but I made it through.

We pushed through the high hedges and then stopped for a breath. We were in.

“It’s like going back in time,” Toni said.

I let my eyes take everything in. I’d spent so many hours here when it was open, running from ride to ride, following the tinny music, begging my parents for fried dough and cotton candy. But it was different now. Trash was strewn about the grounds. Grass, struggling for life, pushed its way up the cracks in the pavement.

The kiddie coaster, the park’s only thrill ride, rose between overgrown trees in the distance. I could almost hear the click-clack of the car going up the hill. It seemed so small and unintimidating now. But when I was little, I thought that hill rose halfway to the clouds. I remembered the first time I rode the coaster. It was both exhilarating and completely terrifying at the same time. I thought my little heart was going to burst out of my chest. I screamed through the whole ride. When it ended, my dad turned to me with a worried look on his face and asked, “Are you all right?” Fists in the air, I yelled, “Again!”

Sure, it had been terrifying, but it was a safe scare. I knew I’d be all right in the end.

“Come on, let’s walk around,” Toni said.

We started moving forward, slowly. My camera felt heavy around my neck and I lifted it, poised and ready. A patch of moss grew in the shaded area beneath a ticket counter. I brought the camera up to my eye. Click. I took a shot of the Ferris wheel looming in the distance. Its bucket cars had been disassembled and sold, so only the spokes and rods were left behind, like a metal skeleton.

A plastic bag skittered past us, billowing in the wind, and I followed until it came to rest against the old refreshment stand, which was almost completely covered in graffiti. On one panel of rotting wood, giant bubble letters declared that Susan loved Chris. I zoomed in to capture it.

“Can we see the carousel?” Toni asked.

“Sure.” I vaguely remembered its location, somewhere near here.

“It’s behind that kiddie car ride,” Toni said, pointing.

The kiddie cars followed a thick metal track. The steering wheels were purely ornamental, but we didn’t realize that at the time, being delusional little kids. We thought we were really driving. Now the cars were rusted. One was hanging half off the track. Click.

“There it is!” Toni cried, and rushed to the carousel.

I knew why she was so excited. The carousel had been her favorite ride. I remembered there was a pink horse that she always chose. If it was taken, she’d wait for the next ride just so she could sit on that one.
I’d heard a rumor that the ponies had been sold off. They were hand-painted and valuable. And as we approached, I saw the carousel, standing still, quiet, and horseless. At first I was disappointed. I’d wanted a photo of the forgotten horses. But I quickly realized it looked even more interesting without them. The horses went on to live in another park somewhere. But the rest of the carousel had been left behind to rot, choking in weeds. The mirror panels were so dirty, I couldn’t even see a reflection. Click.

Toni scowled, her excitement gone. “This place is creepy,” she complained. I didn’t exactly disagree.
I remembered the day I met Flynn, the last day I’d been here. I was breaking the rules, which was unlike me, but I’d figured it was okay since it was “for my art.” We’d all been warned . . . Bad things happen in the park. Avoid it. But I’d figured those marauding bands of druggies and criminals only lived in parents’ overprotective imaginations. This was still River’s End, after all. Not the city. But, just to be safe, that day I’d planned to stay out in the open. I wasn’t going to enter any of the buildings or climb onto any of the old rides. Those first few minutes inside the park . . . it had been so quiet. I’d felt completely alone. And I’d realized that was the real reason people avoided the park. Not because of any imaginary hooligans, but because it was—by nature—so damned creepy. The deeper I’d explored, the more frightened I felt.

But then I saw Flynn. And he didn’t look the slightest bit nervous. He was leaning against the fun house like he owned it.

“Where to now?” Toni asked, snapping my brain back into focus. She rubbed her arms through her jacket, though it wasn’t cold out.

“The fun house,” I said. “I need to see it.”

We retraced our steps to the graffiti-covered refreshment stand. I knew how to get to the fun house from there. We took a right, past the giant parallel racing slides, where cracks in the plastic carved winding paths that no person would race on again.

And there it was. Standing just as it had that day months ago.

The fun house was painted black and purple, and a giant evil clown head crowned the top of the doorway. Even though it had been cheesy and full of cheap scares, I’d loved it when I was younger. I remembered the tipsy room, the black-light hallways, the mirror maze. Even at the exit, when you thought you were safe, an air blast at your face combined with a loud horn gave you one last fright.

“It looks the same,” Toni said.

A slow smile spread across my face. “I wonder what it’s like inside.”

Toni’s eyes widened. “No way.” I nodded. “Way.”

She shook her head quickly. “I won’t go.”

I did my best chicken imitation, clucking and waving my elbows.

She stuck her chin out. “I’m not going to fall for that.” Usually I was the one trying to talk her out of doing something crazy, not the other way around. “It was your idea to come here, remember? Plus, what are you scared of?”

She counted off on her fingers. “Serial-killing vagrants, rat disease, bat infestations, dead things, ghosts.”
“None of those are in there,” I assured her. “How do you know?”

I started walking, dry grass crunching under my shoes. I called out, “I’m going in with or without you. So you can come with me . . . or stay out here alone.” I stretched the last word out in the creepiest voice I could muster.

“Fine!” Toni stomped up beside me. “Though I’m only coming so I can protect you from whatever horrible terror awaits you in there, because I’m the bestest best friend ever.”

I hid my grin. “I appreciate it.”

I reached the door that had been the entryway. There was no knob, and planks of wood were nailed across it.

“That’s too bad,” Toni said, already backing away. “Oh well, we tried!”

I held my hand out. “Slow your roll, chicken. There’s another way.” I pointed to the side of the building, where the exit had been.

Toni’s mouth dropped open. “No, no, no.” She sounded like a toddler on her way to a tantrum. “That’s where they blow the horn in your face and the air blasts at you.”

“You really think that’s still working? The electricity was cut to this place years ago.”

“What if it didn’t run on electricity?”

“Face your fears!” I yelled and started jogging the length of the building.

“Don’t leave me here!” Toni said, half laughing, half legitimately scared.

We turned the corner to where the exit had been, and it was still there. Just a black painted door. No planks, no giant bolts. I reached out for the knob, expecting it to be stiff, but it turned. “It’s unlocked,” I whispered. Though I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the need to lower my voice. “Fantastic,” Toni snarked back.

Once the knob turned completely, the door released and slowly opened inward with an eerie creak. Outside light illuminated the first couple of feet of flooring. But then after that—darkness.

“You are not going in,” Toni said behind me, her voice panicked.

“I am.” That memory of Flynn leaning up against the building had stirred something inside me. I was determined to have a look.

“This is how every teen horror flick starts. You’re like the stupid girl you yell at in the movies.”

“I’m not the stupid girl. There’s nothing in here. It’s daytime. And this isn’t a horror movie.” I tentatively stepped on the square of wood that used to trigger the blast horns. Nothing. That was a relief. The slightest noise would send Toni tearing out of here. She was sticking so closely to my back, I could feel her breathing on my neck.

“I can’t see anything,” she said, peeking over my shoulder. “Didn’t there used to be a window in here?”
This had been the final room to the fun house. Lit by black lights, it had painted monsters on the walls, and a window where kids waiting outside could pop their faces up or bang on the glass to scare their friends. I turned to the right, where I remembered it being. A dim yellow glow came from the area.

“What are you doing?” Toni screeched.

“I’m finding the window.” I took slow steps over to the yellowish glow, my hands out in front of me. Finally reaching it, I felt something under my fingertips. I ripped at it, and sunlight poured in.

Toni held her hands up to her eyes and yelled like a vampire being scorched.

“The window was covered with old newspaper,” I said. “I just tore it down.”

“Warn my retinas next time!” she yelled.

She brought her hands down and both of us waited a beat for our eyes to adjust to the light. The monsters were still painted on the walls—a werewolf, a vampire, a ghost baring sharp teeth. Though they were more cheesy than creepy now. But the room was no longer empty as it had been back in the day.

A thick blue sleeping bag lay unrolled by the far wall. A battery-operated camping lantern lay beside it. A pile of clothes sat folded in the corner, and beside those was a ratty black backpack.

“Someone’s living here,” Toni whisper-screamed. “You promised! You said no serial-killing vagrants!”

I knelt by the sleeping bag and ran my fingers over the top of the nylon. It was dusty. No one had slept here in a while. I picked the first item of clothing off the top of the pile and unfolded it. It was a thin, black T-shirt with a swirly blue design in the center.

I recognized it.

“This is Flynn’s shirt,” I said.

Toni paled and her eyes went to the backpack. I grabbed it, yanking the zipper open, and turned it upside down. I wanted all his secrets to spill out onto the floor, but instead it was only toiletries—a comb, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a deodorant stick.

“He was living here,” Toni said quietly.

I pushed myself back up to standing and looked at the mess. I couldn’t believe it. He was a runaway, sure, but I just assumed he’d been staying with someone. But, no, he’d been staying here.

My chest hurt. I would’ve helped him somehow, if he’d told me. Why would he stay here?

Toni had picked up the backpack and started squeezing it. “There’s something else in here.”

She held the bag out to me and I unzipped the front pocket. I reached inside and pulled out a small notebook with a pen stuck in the coil. I flipped through and read a few of the scribbled notes inside. They made no sense to me. There were a few mentions of Stell Pharmaceuticals, which was weird. One page just had the sentence Cops on the take.

“This is really messed up,” Toni said, practically taking the words right out of my mouth.

I flipped from back to front, skipping all the blank pages, in an effort to find the last thing he wrote. I stopped when I found the final page. This one was different. Instead of a hurried, barely readable script, his handwriting was neater, purposeful. My heart began hammering wildly in my chest as I read the first two words. It was a note, and it was addressed to me.

Dear Morgan,

I’m writing this in case something happens. Don’t come looking for me. I want you to move on with your life.

Forget me.

I want you to know that you’re the best thing

The note ended abruptly, as if he had been interrupted.

But now I knew. He had cared about me. The breakup in the car was just . . . what . . . him thinking he was protecting me? A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t wipe it away. I let it trail down my cheek and drop to the dusty floor. I wished he’d gotten to finish the note. I wished he’d been more honest with me.
“Whoa,” Toni said, reading the page over my shoulder. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

I nodded. “He was interrupted and didn’t get to finish the note.”

She knocked on my head. “Hello, Morgan! Wake up and smell the conspiracy.”

I blinked quickly. “Conspiracy?”

“All his weird notes. Mentioning the cops. Then writing a goodbye note to you in case something happens. He stumbled on something. Something big.”

I looked at Toni through glassy eyes. “What are you saying? Do you think he was murdered?” She shrugged. “Think about it.”

The night Flynn was killed, my instincts had told me he’d been waiting on that road for someone. He kept looking around and acting nervous. My insecurities had immediately jumped to thoughts of another girl. But now I wondered if someone else had told him to meet there. Someone who could have been involved in this. His strange behavior made more sense. Why he’d wanted me away from there. Why he started a fight when I pushed him for answers.

He was trying to protect me.

Familiar feelings of guilt gnawed at me. If only I could have kept him in the car. If only . . .

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 16
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

I stayed up too late trying to make sense of the chicken scratch in Flynn’s notebook. At best, they were barely readable notes.

At worst, they looked like the rantings of a madman. There were dates—none of which meant anything to me—and names I could barely decipher. Even some algebra. One page only said NT=X. I saw the word Stell a couple of times. I assumed he was referring to the company. After a while, many notes included only the initial S. Were those also referring to Stell? Why had he been researching the company? And what was up with Cops on the take? Flynn was insanely private and a liar, yes. But was he a crazy person, too?

I kept the notebook tucked in my backpack at school Thursday. For some reason I wanted to have it by my side at all times. Like if I kept it at home or in my locker, it would disappear. Maybe just reading Flynn’s thoughts was turning me into a paranoid freakazoid like him.

We had a quiz in pre-calc, but in my other classes, my mind wandered. I revisited the night of the accident again and again.

But now the black SUV was increasing its speed and purposefully swerving toward Flynn. My memory was changing to accommodate the new information. I couldn’t even trust my own brain.

The note he left for me wasn’t evidence that he was murdered. Yeah, it seemed shifty that he left a note “in case something happens,” and something did, in fact, happen. But that might have been a coincidence. I didn’t exactly have anything to take to the police. Especially after they had already investigated the hit-and-run. And double especially when the notebook insinuated that the cops themselves were corrupt.

The last bell rang, and I grabbed what I needed from my locker, then wandered over to Toni’s to see if she needed a ride home. But she had her back to her locker and her tongue in Reece’s mouth.

“Eww, guys,” I said. “PDA is so first boyfriend, freshman year.”

They—thankfully—separated their faces. Toni giggled and tucked her hair behind her ears. “What’s up, Morgan?”

I shifted my backpack to my other shoulder. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“Nah, I’ll give her a ride,” Reece said, and made a thrusting motion with his hips as if the joke itself wasn’t obvious enough.

Toni gave him a look that could freeze a fireball in midair. He cast his eyes down like a scolded dog. “Sorry.”

She looked back at me. “He’s a work-in-progress. But, yeah, he’ll drive me home.” Then she pointed down the hall. “Oh! I left my notebook in Spanish. Be right back.” She shuffled off with a giant goofy grin on her face.

It worried me. I wasn’t quite convinced that dating Reece was a good idea. And Toni didn’t date lightly. She fell hard. It happened twice freshman year and once in tenth grade. She also tended to forget she had a best friend during these times. Until the relationship crashed and burned and her crying face became a permanent fixture in my bedroom every afternoon. But, if I warned her not to go too fast with Reece, she’d just tell me that this time was different. That’s what she said every time.

I felt sort of awkward, momentarily abandoned with Reece. “So . . . how are things in Happy Love Land?”
I expected a Too Cool Reece response since we were in the school hallway and all, but he only smiled and said, “It’s great.” I took a moment to take in everything about him. Despite his momentary slip a minute ago, his look, his demeanor, all seemed to be de-douchified. Un-douched, if you will. “You’re
different,” I said.

“It’s nice not to have to be on all the time, you know?”

His sincerity chipped away at my skeptical little heart. “So you really like her?”

“A lot.”

Toni being lovestruck wasn’t as bad if Reece was equally so. But still, it couldn’t hurt to give him one last tip. I took a step closer and lightly pressed my finger into his chest. “Good. Because if you hurt Toni, they will find your body in twenty-seven pieces at the bottom of the river. Got it?”

He smiled and swatted my finger away. “Got it.”

Toni returned at that moment, witnessing my threat. She rolled her eyes. “Is Morgan getting all best friend protect-y?”

“Protective,” I said.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Reece said, grabbing her hand.

I wanted desperately to believe that this wouldn’t end in tears. That this would be different from Austin in ninth grade or Corey in tenth. But the way Reece looked at her, like she was an amazing miracle and he was lucky to just be standing by her side, gave me hope.

And for some reason, it made me think of Evan. Not Flynn, which was weird, so I pushed the thought away.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, shooing them off. “Go have fun playing tonsil hockey.”

“I’ll call you later!” Toni yelled as she hurried away from me.

I’d barely reached my car when my cell rang. I pulled it out of my bag and recognized the number right away. My boss at the local newspaper.

I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?” “Morgan, it’s Felicia at the paper.”

A group of girls walked by practically yelling rather than talking. I got into my car and closed the door so I could hear.

“Hi, Felicia. What’s up?”

“Want an assignment? You’d have to go right now.” “I can do that,” I said.

She let out a sigh of relief. “Great. Rebecca is in labor right now and Chris is at his other job. You’re my only freelancer available.”

“Where do you need me?”

“There was a suicide at the falls. A man who’d lost his home to foreclosure, then his wife took the children and left. Yada, yada.”

My stomach lurched, but Felicia continued as if she were ordering from a menu. “We’ll need a photo of the falls, from whatever angle makes them seem most treacherous. And if anyone has laid a wreath or some sort of memorial there, I want a shot of that, too. Double pay if you get crying mourners. You have the release form for them to sign?”

“Yep,” I squeaked. I always had extra release forms in the car. People needed to sign them before you could use their photograph in the paper. But I wouldn’t bring one to the falls today. If anyone was there, crying, I wouldn’t take a picture of them. It just felt wrong.

“I’ll e-mail you what I get,” I said.

Cascade Falls was beautiful, especially after weeks of heavy rainfall, when the waters raged as if controlled by an angry, invisible hand. During the Great Depression, they’d been dubbed Suicide Falls. Reason: obvious. But jumpers went over only once every couple of years now. Including this morning, apparently.
The falls were in what used to be a River’s End town park. But the park lost its funding, the land overgrew, and now it was yet another place in town that once held beauty and now only sadness.

It was usually an empty area. Sometimes you’d find a couple attempting to have a picnic, but they’d try it only once. The falls were loud. And mist sometimes blew in your face when the wind changed direction. So it wasn’t as romantic as it looked from a distance.

Today, though, as I parked my car in the lot and walked the well-worn trail to the waterfall, I knew I wouldn’t be alone. If I’ve learned one thing from my newspaper job, it’s that tragedy attracts looky-loos. And there they were. Just a handful of people milling around, but they wouldn’t have been there on a normal day. They were curious. The type of people who slow down to gaze at the carnage of a car wreck.

I didn’t want to stay any longer than I had to. The whole scene felt morbid to me. I got as close to the top as I safely could and snapped a photo looking down. It was probably a fifty-foot drop, dangerous in and of itself, but the river’s wild current dragged you down after that. There was no surviving a fall here.

I shivered as the misty spray spat at the nape of my neck below my ponytail. I took another handful of shots, then worked my way down the trail to the bank of the river to take some pictures from below. I was more comfortable there. Away from the dizzying heights. Down where the air was drier, the waterfall’s roar less ear-splitting.

I snapped more photos from this position and knew from previewing them in the display that one of these would be the winner. From below, the waterfall seemed even more menacing. For good measure, I took a couple of shots of the river itself. The water was dark, almost black, with a churning white surface.

A makeshift memorial was beginning to grow on the largest rock on the riverbank—a few flowers, a candle. At least the looky-loos paid their respects while they were here. Though, now, as I cast a glance around, I realized most of them had returned to their lives, their curiosity sated. Only one person remained, a man about my dad’s age. He wore a business suit and stood facing the waterfall, staring at it with an expression I could almost, but not quite grasp. Regret, maybe?

He probably knew the guy who’d jumped. He would probably stand there all afternoon, wishing he could go back in time and save him.

But I knew there was no going back. No matter how much you tried to relive a moment. How much you wished you could change one small thing, bump the time line, know then what you know now.

Once the dead are gone, they’re gone.

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 17
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

The school day dragged on Friday. The highlight was a slice of tastes-like-cardboard pizza from the cafeteria. After the last bell, I stood at my locker and filled my backpack with whatever books I’d need for the weekend. I checked my phone for new messages. Felicia e-mailed that she chose two of my photos— the shot of the falls from below and the one of the makeshift memorial.

Part of me had been hoping for a text or missed call from Evan.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and tapped my fingernails against the locker door. I could always call him. I did have information to share. And nothing to do. Toni had plans with Reece.

I felt the weight of my cell phone in my pocket. I wanted to call him. But thinking about him made me nervous, excited, and a bit light-headed, and that scared me. So as I drove home, I talked myself out of calling. I would ignore the ache in my chest that told me I wanted to see him again. It was too soon to feel this way about someone. And too strange that Evan looked so much like Flynn. Everything about the situation was overwhelming.

I would spend my Friday at home, I decided. I could do my homework, get that out of the way. Maybe watch TV with my parents, see if they were acting normal again.

But, you know, a girl plans, and fate laughs right in her face.

When I got to my house, Evan’s car was parked on the street out front.

I pulled into the driveway, and he got out of his car, walking slowly, hands in his pockets. I met him halfway across the front yard. Neither of us spoke for a moment. Then I said, “Hi.”

He looked up at me with an adorably awkward smile. “I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by.”

I could feel my cheeks flush. “No, not at all.” I was just obsessively thinking about you, so it’s fine.

“I just . . . I was going to call, but then I found myself driving here instead.” He paused and looked at me. Like really looked at me. Like he was trying to see inside my mind, inside my soul. “How are you?” he asked.
My throat suddenly felt dry. “Good . . . okay . . . weird.” He raised an eyebrow. “Weird?”

“There have been some developments since we last talked,” I explained.

He aimed a thumb over his shoulder at my house. “Want to go inside and talk?”

I chewed on my lip for a moment. My parents weren’t back from work, but what if he stayed until they got home? “Can we go to your place instead? It’s just . . . if my parents come home. I haven’t told them about you yet and . . . how much you look like . . . him.”

He swallowed hard and hesitated a moment, like he was unsure about something. Then he smiled, that dimple showing again, and said, “Sure. Hop in, I’ll drive.”

I hefted my bag up onto my shoulder and followed him to his car.

He gave a sideways look to my backpack. “Plan on doing some homework at my house?”

“That development I was talking about is in here.” I patted the bag.

“Intriguing,” he said with a smirk.

We made small talk about school until he turned quiet as we slowed to a stop at the top of his massive driveway in front of his ridiculous house. I realized, at his silence, that he was expecting some sort of reaction. Oh yeah, I remembered. He didn’t know that I had done some mild stalking with Toni and already knew he lived in a mansion.

I faked the best gasp I could. “Wow. Quite a humble cottage you have here.”

“That’s kind of why I didn’t want to bring you home,” he admitted. “I don’t want you to . . .”

“Think you’re some spoiled rich kid?”

He smiled. “Yeah, for starters.”

“It’s good that I got to know you first, then.”

He still didn’t look comfortable. But I didn’t care if a person had money or didn’t. My family had been comfortably upper middle class, and now we were struggling day by day to hold on to everything we’d earned. But we were still the same family, the same people.

“So . . . are you going to invite me in?” I asked. His face relaxed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

I followed him through white double doors and into the foyer. He tossed his keys onto a marble table beneath a goldframed mirror. In the reflection, I caught the curve of a spectacular staircase. One that you see and immediately picture yourself slowly walking down, wearing some beautiful ball gown. This seemed more like a movie set than a house.

“We can head to the library,” Evan said. A library. Of course he had a library.

I followed him down the hall, my shoes squeaking on the glossy floors. Every inch of the space was immaculate. The only thing that stood out was a window in a den held together with masking tape. I pointed as we passed. “What happened there?” Evan winced. “That’s my bad. I was practicing in the yard with a friend from the team, and a baseball broke the window. My parents are getting a new one today, and then we have to get the alarm company out to rewire the window sometime next week. It’s a whole big thing.”

I wanted to ask him what his parents did for a living, but I could tell from his tense body language in the car that it was a topic he didn’t like to get into. So I didn’t bring it up. Besides, what did it matter?

“The library is in there.” He pointed at an open doorway behind me. I’d been expecting some stuffy, almost tacky room filled with dark leather chairs and dusty old books that were only for show. But as I walked in, I found the opposite. The room was bright and welcoming, with big, overstuffed chairs flanking a huge floor-to-ceiling window, which filled the room with warm natural light. I let my fingers trail along the bookshelves. They held everything from nonfiction to romance novels, and their spines showed signs of being read.
Evan motioned to a glass coffee table between two comfy-looking chairs. “You can put your stuff down there.”

I gently dropped the backpack onto the table and sank into the nearest chair. “This room is amazing.”

“I do all my homework in here.” “I’d live in here,” I said.

“It bothers some people,” he said quietly. “The money.”

I met his gaze. “Well, I’m not that superficial.”

He didn’t say anything to that. We just stared at each other for a long moment. The butterflies in my stomach started to take flight, so I broke eye contact and pulled my backpack off the table. I unzipped it and reached inside for Flynn’s notebook. But as I went to pull it out, my portfolio came with it. I’d brought it into school to show my photography teacher the progress I’d made. It fell to the floor open, and Evan reached down to pick it up. He paused, staring at the photo on the page. One glance showed me it was the shot I’d taken of the castle at Happy Time Mini Golf. I had to explain or he’d think I was some weirdo who went back and took pictures of the place where we’d had a “moment.”

“That’s my portfolio,” I said quickly. “It’s something I work on in my spare time.” I still hadn’t applied for the summer course. My teacher told me my work was ready, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. Maybe Toni was right. Maybe I was procrastinating because I didn’t want to risk getting rejected.

“Can I look?” he asked.

I nodded, feeling self-conscious already. The only people who’d ever seen my photos were Toni and my teacher, and I think they both found them creepy.

Evan closed the book and reopened it at the beginning. The title page read

ABANDONED RIVER’S END
Morgan Tulley​

He took his time, giving each picture full consideration before slowly flipping the page. He said nothing until he was finished, and then his gray eyes found mine. Every nerve in my body was standing on edge, waiting.

“Morgan, these are amazing.”

I let out an almost-too-loud breath of relief. “You think so?” Not that I would stop taking them, even if he hated them. My best friend hated them and that didn’t slow me down. But for some reason, his opinion mattered to me.

“Yeah.” He shook his head in amazement. “The theme kind of speaks to you, doesn’t it? I mean, at first it’s kind of sad. But then, and I don’t know if this is what you were going for, but looking at some of these forgotten places I feel . . . hope. Like what’s lost can be found again. Right?”

My ego was practically soaring. “That’s exactly it.”

He closed the album and handed it back to me. “Wow, these are so much better than the photos you take for the newspaper. No offense.”

I laughed. “None taken. There’s only so much you can do with a photo of a high school football game.” I was pretty sure my cheeks were lit up like Christmas lights. I’d never felt so flattered. But then a thought occurred to me. “How did you know I take pictures for the paper?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen your byline.”

“You read the River’s End Weekly?” I asked, surprised. “No. I Googled you and it came up.”

I snorted. “Stalker.”

A crooked smirk played across his face. “Hey, I was just protecting myself. I was told you were dangerous, remember? You can’t blame me for doing a little research after I finally found out your name at the party.”

“About that . . .” I glanced down at the notebook in my lap. “Do you still have that photo of me?”

“Yeah . . . ,” he said slowly. He rose and crossed to a desk in the corner. He slid open a drawer and returned a moment later with the now familiar picture in his hand, placing it writing side up on the coffee table. I opened the notebook, flipped past the messy pages, and stopped at the clean, final page. Flynn’s message to me. I laid it open on the table, beside the warning. Evan leaned forward. His breath hitched as he read the note.

“This is from Flynn?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not the content of the note I wanted you to see. It’s the handwriting.”

I’d had my suspicions, but now I could verify them. I traced my finger over the capital F in the warning to Evan. FORGET HER. Then I compared it with the one in the notebook. Forget me.

They were the same.

“Flynn sent that photo to me,” Evan said, confirming my thoughts out loud. “He was the one who warned me about you.” I leaned back in the chair, my mind spinning. We knew it for sure now, but it still made no sense. Flynn knew I wasn’t dangerous. Why did he want Evan to stay away from me? Why did he even think we might cross paths? And why did he want me to forget him and move on?

“What’s written in the rest of it?” he asked, flipping through the pages and squinting his eyes.

“Really messy notes that make no sense.” I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. “I just wish I knew what was going on.”

He dropped the notebook and put his hand over mine. Our fingers interlaced. It was such a small thing, but felt so intimate. My feelings for Evan had grown from that small spark at mini golf to something bigger. Something real. But I couldn’t let myself feel anything for him. Not when I still had so many questions.

“We can figure it out together,” he said. But I was staring at his hand, feeling the warmth of it, the tingle it sent through my skin, wanting so much to run my thumb over his knuckles. But I didn’t move.

He slid his hand back and gave me a long look. “Did you love Flynn?” he asked, and it wasn’t so much hurt or jealousy in his voice as sympathy.

“No,” I answered honestly. “But I might have grown to love him if . . . he’d stuck around longer.” I paused, overcome with the need to share. “Can I tell you something no one knows, not even Toni?”

He met my eyes. “Of course.”

I nervously licked my lips. “Right before the accident, before he got out of my car and started walking . . . he broke up with me.”

Evan blew out a breath. “Well, that explains the nutty stuff in his notebook.” “How so?”

“He was clearly insane. He’d have to be crazy to dump you.” He said it with a flirty grin, and I felt like my heart was melting. I allowed my eyes to linger on the full lines of his lips. I let my mind wonder what it would feel like to have that perfect mouth on mine.

He inched forward.

My chest heaved, my breath coming faster and deeper. “Oh! Evan, I didn’t realize you had company.”

Evan pulled back, his eyes widening. I sat rigidly in the chair as I turned to look at the woman in the doorway. She had that type of unmoving helmet hair you mostly see on news anchorwomen, but her smile was warm and welcoming.

“Mom, this is Morgan,” Evan said.

I found my voice. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Murphy.”

She clasped her hands in front of her pale yellow pantsuit. “Likewise. Can I offer you something to drink or a snack? From the looks of it, my impolite son hasn’t done so.”

“Oh, sorry,” Evan mumbled, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. It hadn’t occurred to me, either. We’d had . . . other things on our minds.

“Thank you,” I said, “but I’m fine.” “Okay, then. I’ll leave you to . . .” “Homework,” Evan finished.

“Homework,” Mrs. Murphy repeated with a smile as she backed out of the room.

Evan turned to me. “Was that awkward?” “Mildly.”

He blushed a bit, then asked, “Hey, do you have any plans tonight?”

I thought about coming up with some lame line like, Nothing I can’t cancel, so I didn’t sound like a loser with no plans on a Friday night. But then I remembered the advice I’d given Reece and how well he and Toni were working out. So I went with honesty.

“No, I’m free.”

He brightened. “Want to have dinner with me? Out somewhere? Like . . . not here? We can talk more about everything and try to figure out—”

“Sure,” I cut in, dropping any pretense of cool.

“Great. Let’s go somewhere in River’s End,” Evan said while I repacked my bag. “Littlefield doesn’t have much.”

River’s End wasn’t much better, but we did have Sal’s. “How about pizza?” I asked.

“Perfect.”

I followed Evan back down the expansive hallway, our footsteps echoing. We were almost to the door when a deep voice said, “Going out?”

Evan stopped midstride, his shoulders drooping. “Just one more introduction,” he whispered to me.

“It’s fine,” I whispered back. I didn’t mind meeting his parents. Especially since they seemed nice. This was going a lot better than it would have at my house with my parents freaking out over a dead ringer for Flynn.
We both turned around with smiles plastered on our faces, ready to do the quick meet and greet and escape to somewhere we wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Dad, this is Morgan. We were just heading out for some food.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you then,” Mr. Murphy said brightly. His eyes took a quick scan of me, not in a creepy way, and then he gave one of those imperceptible nods to Evan that said, Hey, she’s pretty, good work.
But I was frozen in place, like another statue for their entryway. I opened my mouth to speak, but my mind was somewhere else, and it took a moment for my lips to catch up. I finally conjured the words, “Great to meet you, Mr. Murphy.”

After a quick and awkward exit, Evan opened the car door for me, then got in on the other side. He gave me a curious look. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said quickly, though I wasn’t quite sure. I needed the drive to Sal’s to think. I needed to figure out if this meant anything.

Because I’d seen Evan’s dad before.

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 18
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

Evan held the door of Sal’s open for me, and the little bell rang as the door closed again behind us. I was immediately blasted by that familiar pizza smell, and I breathed it in. “So this is the famous Sal’s, huh?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said. “Fancy. Consider yourself lucky I brought you here.”

“Yeah, right. I you take all the guys here,” he joked, but I immediately felt a small pang. I had brought Flynn here.

At my expression, Evan quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” I said, giving him a halfhearted smile, and the pinch in my chest disappeared.

Evan started moving toward the one open booth. My eyes made a quick sweep of the room to see if anyone I knew was there. And, lo and behold, Cooper and Diana were in the corner, holding hands over the table and making goo-goo eyes at each other.

Diana’s face darkened when she saw me. I had no idea what her problem was. She whispered something at Cooper, and he looked over his shoulder. He flashed a smile at me, but it faltered. He did a double take at my dinner companion and shot up out of his seat.

At the sight of a stranger charging toward us, Evan stepped in front of me.

“Are you . . .” Cooper’s voice trailed off as he inspected him. “No,” I said, sidestepping Evan. “He just looks like him.”

Cooper motioned to me with his head. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” The unspoken last word was privately.

Evan thankfully wasn’t a jerk about it. “I’ll grab the booth for us and put in an order,” he said.

I told Evan what I wanted and followed Cooper back toward the doorway. He rested his elbow on the top of a gumball machine and looked at me expectantly.

I spread my hands. “I know this seems weird.”

“I thought you’d found Flynn. I thought he was alive.” “He’s not. It’s not him.”

“But this is why you suddenly wanted to do all that research about him.” I nodded.

He narrowed his eyes at Evan in the distance. “And you’re sure he’s not . . .”

“I’m sure. Flynn’s dead.”

Cooper shook his head and let out a low whistle. “Wow. It’s uncanny.”

“I know. I’m just getting used to it myself.” “Are you two . . .”

“No,” I answered quickly. “He’s just helping me.” I glanced over my shoulder. “And you should probably head back to Diana before her head explodes.” She was sitting rigidly in the booth, arms crossed, making pouty faces because Cooper’s attention had gone elsewhere for one freaking minute.

“Yeah, okay. Good seeing you.”

He hurried back to his corner booth, and I returned to Evan. “Sorry about that,” I said, sliding into the seat, my jeans catching on the cracked vinyl. Our sodas had arrived, or rather Sal had brought over two cans from the cooler. Sal didn’t have glasses. You drank from a can or you went thirsty.

I cracked mine open and took a sip, closing my eyes as the cold slipped down my throat.

“Is everything okay with that guy?” Evan asked. “Is he a jealous ex-boyfriend or something?”

I nearly spit the soda out. “Um, no. He’s Toni’s older brother.

He thought you were Flynn, so he had a minor freakout.” “Ahh,” he said, understanding. “To be expected, I guess.” “Yeah, just wait till you meet my parents.” The words came out before I could stop them, and now they hung in the air like the world’s most awkward and ill-placed tapestry. “Not that you’ll definitely meet them. Or that there’s any reason to meet them.” Shut up, Morgan.

Evan’s mouth twitched. I was glad he was fighting that laugh instead of letting it out and making me feel even more embarrassed. Good effort.

“So . . . I have something to tell you,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ve seen your dad before.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“Yesterday. At the falls. I was there on assignment. Someone jumped. And your dad was there, wearing a suit and looking . . . pensive.”

The lighthearted expression fell from Evan’s face. “It couldn’t have been him.”

“Why?”

“My dad doesn’t go to the falls. Ever.”

I pursed my lips. “If it’s a fear of heights, he wasn’t at the top. He was at the bottom—”

“No,” Evan interrupted, “it’s not that.”

I smirked. “Does he have something against beautiful views?”

“That’s where his brother died,” he blurted.

“He . . . jumped?” Evan’s uncle had committed suicide?

He took a long drag from his soda and nodded wordlessly. I sank deeper into the booth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He gave a small shrug.

“Maybe that’s why your dad was there. Maybe he hadn’t visited since . . . your uncle did that . . . but felt the need to after hearing the news today . . .” I let the words trail off and Evan considered them.

“Yeah, maybe. I know he hasn’t dealt with Uncle Doyle’s death very well. He never wants to talk about him.”

“When did it happen?”

“Five years ago.”

Something pinged in the back of my brain. I wanted to know more. “Did your uncle have a family?”

“No.” Evan pulled a napkin from the dispenser on the table and started ripping tiny pieces from it.

“Do you mind if I ask why he did it?”

He ripped one more corner off, then raised his eyes to mine. “Do you remember Stell Pharmaceuticals?”
Of course. Five years ago was when everything exploded with Stell, the plant was shut down, and everyone lost their jobs. Evan’s uncle must have been another piece of Stell collateral damage. I rolled my eyes. “Say no more.”

Evan returned to the napkin, his fingers slowly rolling a ripped piece back and forth along the table. “Was your family affected?”

“Yeah,” I said. “My parents both worked there. And Toni’s dad. They, obviously, all lost their jobs. And my friend Jennifer’s parents owned the deli across the street from headquarters that went out of business soon after, when there were no more Stell employees to give them business. I could go on and on. It seems like everyone in town was connected in some way.”

I heard him swallow.

“Did you uncle work there, too?” I asked, and that part of my brain started tingling again. I was only eleven when Stell went down and my memories were fuzzy, but this felt familiar.

Evan chewed on his lower lip and nodded, almost unnoticeably.

“Did he lose everything? Is that why he took his own life?” I didn’t know why I was pushing him. He was obviously uncomfortable. But there was something there, right under the surface, and I knew if I only scratched a little bit, it would be revealed.

“Morgan, I have to tell you something.”

The bell above the door rang as Diana opened it, walking out hand in hand with Cooper, who cast one last curious glance at us before the door closed behind him.

“What?” I asked, my attention refocusing on Evan.

“One large cheese pie,” Sal gruffly announced. He dropped the metal pizza pan and two paper plates in the center of the table and walked back to the counter.

Evan sucked in a breath, like he was relieved by the interruption. “We can talk about it after we eat.”
“No,” I said. “The pizza’s too hot anyway.” I separated the slices to help the cooling process, then motioned to Evan to keep talking.

He squirmed in his seat, making it even more obvious that he didn’t want to tell me. But now I had to know. “Evan?” I prodded.

His eyes snapped up to mine, and I flinched at the fear I saw in them. What was he scared of? What was his secret?

His gaze went distant as he began to speak. “My family is responsible for all of this unhappiness—in your family, in Toni’s, in all your other friends. The small businesses that shut down. The abandoned places you visit. It’s all because of us.”

Panic had started to edge his voice, so I reached across the table and laid my hand over his. “Evan, slow down. What are you talking about?”

A sort of depressed resignation settled into his normally bright eyes. “My family owned Stell.”

I pulled my hands back. “What?”

“My father was the CFO, the chief financial officer. My uncle was the CEO, the head of the company.”
I remembered now. The CEO had committed suicide. My parents didn’t let me watch morbid stuff like that on the news at that age, but kids talk on the playground. He was one of the falls’ many jumpers.
And Evan was his family.

Evan continued, “My dad just handled the money, but my uncle ran the business. He knew about the deaths tied to the migraine pill. He covered it up, kept producing the drug. Then when the whistleblower blew the lid off the whole thing and Stell was put out of business . . . Doyle’s life was pretty much over. My dad lost his job, too, even though he did nothing wrong. He’ll probably never be a CFO again, but he does independent consulting now, here and there, traveling to other firms and helping them buy out other companies or whatever. But Uncle Doyle was done. He was going to face charges. So he . . . did what he did . . . at the falls.”

That now familiar anger I’d felt over and over again throughout the years surfaced, reddening my cheeks. The leaders of Stell had always been these nameless mythical villains in my head. People I could blame without having to see or talk to them. But now, here was Evan. His last name, Murphy, was so commonplace here in Irish Massachusetts, I never would have connected him to some CEO who died when I was in elementary school. I hadn’t even remembered the guy’s name. But Evan should have told me.
“Why didn’t you mention this before?” I asked.

His voice was tight. “Because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now. The way my classmates look at me. At all of us. That’s why my sister goes to boarding school. She couldn’t handle it. That’s why I don’t advertise where my family got its wealth.”

That’s why he was wary of bringing me home. Why he drove a cheap, unassuming car.

“So why are you telling me now?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.” His eyes implored mine to believe him.

My insides twisted as I absorbed the information. It was unfair of me to lay anything on Evan. He was only a kid when everything happened, just like me. It wasn’t his fault. And he’d clearly suffered for Stell’s wrongdoings as well.

He leaned forward. “What are you thinking? Please, just tell me.”

I opened my backpack and slid Flynn’s notebook out. “Now that I know this, I should share something else with you.”

Evan looked confused. “You already showed me Flynn’s note.”

True. But now, I realized, the rest of it was relevant, too. “The messy notes he wrote in the rest of the book,” I began. “They were about your family’s company. He seemed to be . . . researching it.”
Evan’s blinked rapidly in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s what I plan to find out.” I hesitated. “And I guess I need to know if you’re still with me.”

Evan took the notebook from my hands and wordlessly flipped through it, stopping to squint and run his fingers over certain words and names. After what seemed like forever, he handed it back to me, his jaw set rigidly, his eyes burning with determination.

Through clenched teeth, he answered, “Definitely.”

 

[kenny0112]

FORGET ME
by K. A. HARRINGTON
Genre: Mystery - Thriller

Chapter 19
​

Spoiler: Welcome!

As far as I knew, Toni had never been interested in attending a high school baseball game in her natural born life. But now that she was dating the first baseman, she’d suddenly been infected with a giant case of school spirit, and here we were.

On my way out to the field, I had swung by the library and photocopied the notes from Flynn’s journal. Evan wanted to inspect the notebook more, but I wasn’t about to part with it. So I filled my pocket with dimes and let the copy machine do its work. Then I headed to the game.

Toni was already sitting on the bleachers when I got there, cheering on the team like one of those crazy parents who took things too seriously.

“You call that a strike?” she yelled.

I slid in next to her and gave her the side-eye. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” I returned my eyes to the field and clapped when our player got a single. But I could feel Toni’s stare on the side of my head.

“You think it’s happening again,” she said. “I think what’s happening again?”

“The crazy. The boy-crazy thing I’ve done in the past.” “Oh. That.”

She crossed her arms and made a huffing sound. “Morgan. I know it’s fast. But I like him.”

“I’m not saying anything, Toni. You’re arguing with no one here.”

“But I know you’re thinking it. You’re judging me with your thoughts.”

“Then why don’t your thoughts fight my thoughts and we can just do this all telepathically?”

She pushed closer to me on the bleacher. “Why don’t you want to talk about it?”

“Because you already have your mind made up, and I don’t want to fight. I want to watch the game. It’s thrilling. Isn’t this thrilling?” I pointed to the field, where absolutely nothing was happening. We had a guy on first base, but the pitcher was taking about ninety seconds between each throw. He must’ve been some kind of obsessive compulsive, because he did this hat-adjust-spit-kick-at-the-mound combination over and over again until he felt comfortable enough to toss the next pitch.

“Watching a goat eat grass would be more exciting,” Toni said.

I gave her a look that said duh. “Then why are we here?” “Because I want to cheer him on. It makes him feel good to know I’m here. And it makes me feel good that he’s glad I’m here. And it’s this big feel-good circle and what’s wrong with feeling good?”

I thought about Evan and how I felt when I was close to him. My heart raced, my throat dried up, my skin felt electric. And I was pushing the possibility of him—of us—away. Maybe I just wasn’t ready. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I wished I could be carefree like Toni and just throw my heart into it. Let myself feel what I desperately wanted to. Stop holding back.

“Nothing’s wrong with feeling good,” I admitted. I smiled and bumped her shoulder with mine. “Go for it. Do your boycrazy thing.”

Her eyes were glassy. She looked both fearful and deliriously happy at the same time—if that was possible. “And if it crashes and burns?” she asked.

I let out a little sigh. “Then I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.

With a giant bag of Sour Patch Kids to dull the pain.” “I love you, Morgan.”

“I am the bestest best friend in all of best friend land.” “Yes, you are.”

The bleachers erupted into cheers as one of our players hit a home run. I mock-bowed as if they were cheering for me, and Toni nearly fell over laughing.

When the game quickly returned to boring, Toni kicked the backpack at my feet. “Why do you have that with you?”

“I had to stop at the library and copy Flynn’s notebook for Evan.”

She wagged her eyebrows. “Oh, really. Apparently you’ve been holding out on me. Deets. Now.”

I filled her in on the events of last night. Sharing the journal with Evan, dinner at Sal’s, and learning that Evan’s family had owned Stell.

Toni took in a sharp breath. “Wow. So . . . his family ruined our lives.”

“It’s not that simple. And it’s not his fault.”

“Still. It’s very Romeo and Juliet. You’re dating the enemy.”

I groaned. “One: we’re not dating. Two: he’s not the enemy.

He was just a kid like us when Stell went down.”

“Why do you always have to undramatize everything?” she teased.

“Why do you always have to overdramatize everything?” I shot back.

She snorted. “So what’s your next step? Now that you and Romeo are working together.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I pored over the journal myself and I can’t figure out anything. It just seems like a bunch of unconnected names and dates to me. I’m hoping Evan might see something I don’t.”
Toni tapped her chin for a moment. “You know who knows the most about the Stell thing?”

I shrugged. “Who?” “Cooper.”

“How would he know?”

“He based all his college application essays on it. The company going down, the town quickly following. You know, for these essays you have to use whatever hits you’ve taken. Our family took one from Stell. So he figured why not turn around and use that sob story to his advantage? He did a ton of research so he’d have all the facts right before he wrote the essays.”

“Maybe I’ll talk to him.” I logged that into my mental to-do list.

“Wait until Monday. Diana’s home for the weekend. No one can pry him away from her.” Toni rolled her eyes as she said it. “I know. He talked to me for thirty seconds at Sal’s and I thought she was going to spontaneously combust.”

We watched the rest of the game, cheering when appropriate and gabbing the remainder of the time. I still didn’t find baseball any more exciting by the end, but it was nice to just sit and chat with Toni. I missed her when we went a few days without quality time, and we’d both had so much going on lately.

River’s End edged out the other team by two runs, and Toni ran into Reece’s arms like he’d won the World Series.

“The team is heading to Sal’s for some celebratory eats,” Reece said. “You two in?”

Toni oozed enthusiasm. “I’m in!”

I appreciated the fact that Reece had included me, even though there was clearly only one person who mattered. “I’m out, guys. I have to drop those papers off to Evan before his baseball game starts.”

Reece brightened. “Hey, you should go watch his game!” “Not today.” At Toni’s disappointed look, I smirked and added, “But maybe someday.”

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into the front gates of the palace, or rather, Evan’s house. I sent him a text, and he came running down the driveway in full gear—Littlefield uniform, hat, and cleats. Either I hadn’t stopped to appreciate the snug fit of the sport’s uniforms at the game earlier today or Evan just filled his out better. My eyes traveled down from his upper arms to his muscular thighs, all stretching the seams of the tight material. Damn.

He came up to the driver’s-side window. “Yeah, I know. I look dorky,” he said, catching my stare.

“No, um, not at all. You look . . . fine. Um, I mean, okay,” I bumbled. I opened my book bag and nearly shoved my head inside of it to cover up the blush creeping across my cheeks. I pulled out the photocopied pages and handed them out the car window. “Here it is.”

“Thanks.” He rolled the pages up and shoved them into his back pocket. “I’m sorry I can’t look at it today. It’s just that I missed one practice this week already, and—”

“No worries,” I cut in, wondering if that practice he missed was because he’d been with me. “I have a lot of homework to catch up on anyway. Just call me when you get a chance to read through it.”

“I will.” He smiled.

“And good luck at your game.”

“Thanks.” He made no motion to walk away. As if he were waiting for me to give him a reason to stay.
I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. “You’re going to be late for your game.”

That snapped him out of it. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll call you!” He waved and ran up the driveway. And I totally didn’t take my time leaving so I could watch him. Nope, not at all.

Okay, I did.

When I finally pulled away, my mind was dizzy with endorphins or whatever chemical makes your brain go loopy at the thought of a particular guy. I always tiptoed through life so carefully. Maybe I should just be reckless like Toni. Throw caution to the wind. What’s the worst that could happen? Yeah, I could get hurt. But I’d been hurt before, and I lived through it. I didn’t notice the SUV behind me until I stopped at a light.
It was so close, its front grill could have been in my trunk.

What the hell? I thought. How about giving me some breathing room?

The light turned green. I accelerated a little faster than I normally would, but the SUV kept right on top of me, only inches from my bumper. Close enough to hit me if I had to slam on the brakes. Aggravated, I pushed the pedal down further, definitely speeding now, but at least it put a little distance between us.
I glanced in the side mirror and realized . . . it was a black SUV. The boxy kind—a very familiar shape.
My skin prickled, the hairs on my arms standing stiff as needles.

Just a coincidence, I told myself. A lot of people drive black SUVs. Just because I was noticing them now didn’t mean they were all the same car. Plus, in movies when people are being followed, the car is always careful about it, staying a good distance behind. If this person was following me, they weren’t even bothering to hide it. It was more like they wanted me to know. They wanted to scare me.

I let up on the gas and slowed back down to the speed limit. Paranoia wasn’t worth a hundred-dollar speeding ticket. The SUV caught up. I squinted in my rearview mirror, searching for the driver’s shadow, hoping to catch a glimpse of a face. But the windows were tinted.

I went straight through the stop sign on North Street and took a left onto Blueberry Road. The SUV followed. Blueberry was a residential road that made a giant letter ‘C’ leading right back to North Street a half-mile down. I reached the end and made a right onto North. I’d made a useless circle, but the SUV still stayed close behind.

I approached the next intersection as the light turned red. It had two lanes. I took the right one. I glanced in the rearview again and the SUV was gone. But before I could let out a breath of relief, it pulled up slowly into the left lane beside me, stopping parallel to my car.

I hit the automatic door-lock button with my elbow. But no one got out. The window didn’t roll down. There was no clear threat.

I stared through my driver’s-side window and saw nothing. The SUV’s darkened glass was impenetrable, but I knew— knew—the person inside was staring back at me. I felt it in every cell of my body. Fear’s icy fingers tiptoed down my spine, and some basic instinct in my DNA made my breaths come faster, my heart pump wilder.

The light turned green. I paused. The SUV didn’t make a move, as if waiting for me. Home was straight, but there was no way I was leading this psychopath right to my front door. I jerked the wheel to the right and floored it, my tires screeching. I made the turn, my back wheels fishtailing a bit, and saw the SUV following. It had taken a right turn from the left lane.

There was no chance this person was lost. This was not my overactive imagination.

On Main Street now, I had to be careful. I couldn’t go too fast or spend too much time with my eyes on the mirror. This was the busy center of town. Cars pulled out of street spots quickly, and people jaywalked.
My mind raced, wondering what to do. I couldn’t go home, but I didn’t want to lead this person to Toni’s either. If I kept driving, we’d eventually end up somewhere deserted, and who knows what would happen. I gripped the wheel so tightly, my knuckles started to ache.

Then, suddenly, the answer appeared, like a beacon in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and took a right into the small parking lot of the River’s End Police Department. There were no spots left except the handicapped one in front, but I took that. Let someone come out and ticket me. Please.

I turned and looked out my back window. The SUV had come to a complete stop in the road. “Checkmate, jackass,” I said out loud.

The front door of the police station opened and a uniformed officer walked out. “Miss? You can’t park there.”
I rolled the window down. “Sorry, Officer. I wasn’t planning to stay. It’s just that someone was following me.”

The cop’s face hardened. “In a vehicle?”

“Yes, that black SUV.” I pointed toward the road, but of course by now the car was gone. “It went past,” I said, shaking my head.

“Because you were smart enough to pull in here,” the officer complimented me. “Was this a road rage incident?”

“No, the car was just . . . following me.”

At that point, his expression changed. I knew he was wondering if I was just some paranoid girl.

“Did you get the plate?” he asked.

“There wasn’t one on the front and he was behind me. I couldn’t see the back.”

The officer exhaled loudly through his nose. “Well, you can stay here a while until you feel safe enough to head on home. If you run into trouble again, come back.”

I wanted to ask the officer to stay with me, to stand sentinel beside my car. But he trudged back into the station. I knew he thought I was crazy. But I was sure something else was going on. I only wished I’d been paying attention from the start. Where had the SUV picked up my tail? From Evan’s house? And more important, why?

After ten minutes, I felt it was safe to pull out. I didn’t go straight to my house. I made crazy turns and circles to make sure the SUV hadn’t been waiting for me somewhere. When I was sure I was no longer being followed, I headed home and pulled into the driveway behind my parents’ cars.

My nerves were starting to return to normal, but I still clutched my stomach as I walked up the front path. In a snap decision, I knew I wouldn’t tell my parents about the SUV. They would probably freak out and make me stay home all the time. It would cause more trouble than it was worth. By nature, I liked to avoid any conversation that might lead to an argument. Life was easier that way.

I paused before opening the front door. I’d always thought my parents and I were close because we didn’t fight. But I was starting to see that just because we pretended everything was all right, that didn’t mean we were staying close. Maybe we were actually pushing each other away. Widening the chasm between us.

Maybe it was time for that to change.

I took a deep breath and threw open the door. Just in time to hear my mother scream.