Class Of 96': 1994 (BxB Mystery)

Chapter XXXVII - "In the shadows."

My hands were trembling, grasping the note. " . . . " My lungs sealed tight, my head felt woozy.

Astra didn't report you. But I know what you did.

I had nothing left but a gasp. Every heavy breath felt like rubber, growing tighter, threatening to snap.

No, this has to be a prank. Lavender can't possibly know. Unless . . . Astra told him.

Astra told Lav she saw me last Halloween, lurking and recording her near the crime scene. Near Luka's attack.

Desperate, I read the receipt.

Fishing Line

Pocket Knife.

-£12.79

Wait . . . this isn't mine. I never bought . . . oh my god.

I fumbled to look at the date purchased. It was before Halloween.

Fishing lines are . . . strong enough to penetrate skin. A-And Luka had his neck popped by a string.

A bead of sweat rolled down my nape. Whoever bought this . . . attacked Luka.

Chest pounding, I rushed to my phone and dialed Innes' number.

Crrk.

'Hello?'

"Innes!" I could've jumped from relief.

'Ah, fuck. Steph, why are you calling me?'

"I-Innes, you need to help me. What's Lavender Schaff's address?" Jittery and fast I asked.

She pauses. 'Why the fuck do you need his address? And why the fuck would you ask me?'

"Because you know half the seniors! Please, Innes. It's an emergency."

Silence filled hesitation.

'Fine.'

***

Ding Dong.

The door opens.

Standing in the frame is Lavender Schaff, not a bit surprised to see me so late at his house.

The slightest of a grin tugs his lips. "I knew you'd turn up soon."

"What is this?" I scowl, holding up the receipt from *Farlows.

"What do you think it is? A love letter?"

My blood boils. I hate him. He and his stupid brown hair, stupid looks, stupid everything. I don't even get why girls like this bastard of a boy.

"Is this a prank?"

"Wanna take it inside?" He leans against the door, arms crossed. He looks down at me from the steps with his sleepy, dark eyes.

"No." I say firmly. My voice cracking through the dead of night. "I don't like you, Lavender."

"Please," He cooly shrugs. "Call me Lav."

My cheeks flamed. First, he leaves me a note that could possibly ruin my life, making me bike all the way to his posh house, and now he's instigating me? This guys driving me nuts!

"What do you know?" I spit my words.

He tilts his head. "I know how you were listening in on my girlfriend last Halloween."

My heart dropped.

Lavender continues. "What's really fucking funny is how you were just there. Listening in the shadows."

"I—"

"You recorded Astra too! . . . You're lowkey stupid."

"It's not like that." My face twisted into a mask of anger, lips curled into a snarl. His very presence made me uncomfortable in my own skin.

"Ah! So you did listen in." He snickers. Small, annoying cackles of laughter.

I ignore him.

"And what is this?" I point at the receipt items. "I did not buy those."

"You didn't?" His shock was an act. He was just pretending. Oh for goodness sake, he's in drama club.

My jaw twitches. "I know what you're trying to say. Fishing line. You're saying I bought fishing line and used that to slash Luka's throat."

Lav scoffs. "You're telling me . . . that receipt isn't yours?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, fuck me." He pushes himself off the door and slips the paper off my hand. "This isn't you?"

"Yes." I bit back so coldly, sounding bitter.

He clicks his tongue, biting back a sneer. "Fuck. Then who's is it?"

"I don't know. But I don't like you bringing me this receipt when it's not mine."

"I don't like you appearing by my house in the middle of the night."

"It's nine PM."

"Sad it's past your bedtime?"

The wind burned with such intensity, it could've scorched. A fiery inferno of resentment, locked on us both.

"What is your problem with me?" I finally ask, hurt yet seeking respect.

"Nothing. But, hypothetically, of course, I could report you to the police and cause you a lot of trouble. You're lucky Astra didn't tell on you."

I stay silent. As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. I am lucky. And he could report me anytime.

I changed the subject. "How do I know this receipt isn't yours?"

Lavender hushes into crickets. He's thinking of what to say. I can see it in him. Wires pulling in his head. I can finally read him.

"Because why would I buy a fishing line and a knife?" He says. But just a flash of a second earlier, I saw his face falter.

"How do I know you're not setting me up?"

"Why would I care so much about you?"

Deep breath in, deep breath out. "Where did you find this receipt?"

A falter of a second again.

"In the trash bin."

" . . . In the trash bin?"

"Yeah."

" . . . What?"

Lavender clears his throat. "Stupid, I know."

"Why . . . why are you checking trash bins?"

"Uhh . . . I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know."

I went silent. Something just came over me with such irritation. Oh right, he came over me.

"Are you done talking?" He asks.

I shook my head, not wasting any more minutes with him. "Have a good night."

"Will do."

I turn around to leave. I can't believe I went out of my way to talk to this guy.

"Wait," Lavender's words chase after me. Oh, what does he want now?

My legs don't stop walking. Without looking back, I reply. "Good night."

"Oh, don't be so sour." He raised his voice so I could hear him a mile away. "You're so mysterious, Stephanie!"

"Good night!!!"

*Farlows is a fishing shop.