Losing you

C H A P T E R T H R E E

Unedited. 

Hope you enjoy!

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C H A P T E R        T H R E E

Jason met him in the car ten minutes later. Dylan had been there long enough to come up with a plan on how they were going to do this. He was relying on no one being home for it to work, so he hoped that he'd get his way. Otherwise he'd have to find another way.

When he actually got into the house, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. From memory, Jack Leeson's house was huge, no more than four bedrooms. It was in whatever room it had happened in. Dylan hadn't been at the school in grade nine, so he hadn't been to the party. He knew that Jason had, though, and he was relying on that.

Next to him, Jason settled into the car seat, glancing across the car at him. "Mind telling me why we're breaking into Jack Leeson's house?"

Dylan shrugged. "He holds the next piece of the puzzle."

Jason put his seatbelt on, as Dylan put the car into drive. "Since when were you so cryptic? What does that even mean?"

Dylan glanced over. "Did I ever tell you about a letter?"

"Letter?" Jason glanced at the ceiling. "No. Not that I remember."

Reversing out of the car spot, Dylan weaved around the idiots that couldn't park straight. No doubt it was the juniors that were still learning how to drive. "Well, after I heard about . . . it . . . I received a letter. It was just in my mail box one day and I opened it because it had my name. Inside was a folded piece of paper, my name written down on the inside. And, man, it was her writing."

"Seriously?"

Dylan nodded, exiting the carpark and going onto the main street. "Yeah, man. It was all so fresh, so raw when I found it. I took one look at them, realised what they were, and broke down. I cried for hours."

"I'm sorry." Jason frowned. "I can't imagine what it was like. No one is going to hold the fact that you cried against you. You're still the same guy. At my grandpa's funeral, I balled my fucking eyes out. You're not alone."

Dylan smiled sadly. "Thanks, I guess. I'm glad I've got your vote of confidence."

"You'll always have my vote, dude." Jason shook his head. "Now, can we stop acting like girls? It's totally killing my vibe here."

Laughing Dylan shook his head. Sobering quickly, he said, "Okay, anyway, I found the letter. It happened months ago and I only just read the letter yesterday. Every night, I look at photos us and my heart breaks. Its memories I hate to relive but I can't stop." Dylan sighed, moving onto the left lane. "I'll spare you the details. I read the letter last night—and I cried. It's her suicide letter."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's what it is. Reading it, I found out about Curtis Matthews. He was the start of it all. Grade nine, there was party. I didn't find out all the information, until an hour ago. Last night, though, all I knew was that at the party someone took photos of her and posted them online."

"Are they the photos I'm thinking of?" Jason asked. Dylan heard the underlying horror in his voice.

Dylan shrugged, hands clenching on the steering wheel. "If they're ones of a girl lying on a bed in her underwear because she'd been roofied, then yes, I think so."