Chapter Three

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When we got to the station they immediately separated us and took our phones. Something that was probably supposed to be a scare tactic, which was working. I was sitting alone in a small grey room that was as cold and sterile as I felt. The only color in the room was the dried blood on my feet. Looking at what must have been a two-way mirror I noticed my mascara had now streaked down my face, the eyeliner smeared making me look like a raccoon. If raccoons cried. I looked how I felt.

They say you're not supposed to panic if you're innocent, but I do it anyway. Short shallow breaths, in out, in, out, uncontrolled puffs passing through my nostrils. I might've cried if I wasn't dehydrated from the tears before.

A knock at the door. A balding officer pushes his way in, I recognize him from the anti-drug talks during our yearly "Don't do drugs" campaign at school. "Harley Wilson?"

I nod, gasping in air trying to calm myself enough to speak. It's bad enough that we're all here drunk. Sobbing wasn't going to help anything.

"My name's Officer Smith. I know tonights been very difficult but would you mind walking  me through what happened tonight?" Officer Smith asks, sitting across the table from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the floor. 

If Liv were here she would've been whispering to me, harshly judging the officer in front of me. She'd say he needed to lose that beer gut or that she bet his stale coffee breath drove his wife away, or maybe he was such an ass because he hadn't gotten any in months.

But Liv wasn't here anymore.

"I-I don't know. I mean I don't know when exactly it happened. Liv and I went together but we all split up. I hadn't been with her for a while and when our friend was trying to round us up to leave we couldnt find her. We went outside and-" I cut myself off, not letting myself cry again. 

The Officers quiet. Carefully scratching notes on his notepad. He glances up at me and just stares. Waiting for me to continue. 

Finally he breaks the silence: "Is that when you found her?"

"Yes."

"Was Liv upset at all during the night? Nervous about something?" 

Liv was always upset about something. It was just a part of who she was. She needed to be in control of everything or couldn't handle what happened. Liv lived like life was a play and she was the director. I was used to it by now. Liv and I had been best friends since we were little. When I walked into kindegarten there was Liv. She decided we had to be friends because we were both wearing pink shirts and that was that. 

"She had an arguement with her boyfriend. Patrick. But they always fight," I finally respond staring straight ahead so I don't have to see his expression.

"Patrick Stevens?" He asks.

"Yes. But Patrick was with someone all night," I reply remembering seeing Patrick hitting on Melissa Rivers upstairs when I went up with Wesley.

"You're sure?"

"I think so. I don't know. Are we done? I'd like to go home." I say with as much finality as I can muster. Had we called our parents? I couldn't remember. I just wanted to climb into my bed and never get out again. 




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