Identity

Chapter 4

        Chapter 4

       As Drake cleaned my face with a wet towel in the boys' locker room, I felt the sudden urge to throw up. I darted away to one of the stalls, heaving all of my lunch into the toilet.

       A few minutes later my stomach was empty and I flushed the toilet, wiping a string of saliva from my mouth. I pulled myself weakly to my feet and turned around to see Drake dropping a bloody towel into the garbage can.

       I folded my arms and leaned against the side of the bathroom stall and smiled crookedly at Drake. "Thank you for uh--bringing me in here and cleaning me up. I couldn't stand being in there...with--"

       "I know." Drake nodded. "And...you're welcome. I completely understand."

       I raked my fingers through my hair nervously as I fought off the temptation to go back into the girls' locker room and look at the body again. It was a terrifying and gory sight, but somehow her mind just longed to see it one last time. Thankfully, Drake's perfect face distracted me from my thoughts and I grumbled, "That was a very...very stupid idea."

       "I know." Drake replied, lowering his head shamefully. "I shouldn't have convinced you to come with me."

       "It wasn't your fault, though, that you didn't know Mrs. Harris was dead." I pointed out. "But you know that we're going to be suspects in the investigation, right?"

       Drake nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I know."

       I clawed the side of my head, groaning. Chills were tickling my spine, and my hands still trembled with fear. I knew that it was the body that frightened me. I couldn't stand being around something so horrible. Mrs. Harris was a kind and caring woman. Who in their right mind would want to kill her? It just didn't make sense.

       Drake was shifting his weight from one foot to another anxiously. I knew that he felt the same way that I did. Sighing, I straightened myself and brushed past him, mumbling: "All right, then. Let's go and see Mr. Rye."

       "So, Mr. Elias and Miss. Hoffman, you found Mrs. Harris's deceased body and didn't call the police until ten minutes later?" Mr. Rye tore his dark eyes from Drake and then glued them to me, making me squirm nervously in the leather chair.

       "Well, Mr. Rye, Lila was terrified, covered with blood, and I just wanted to help her and clean her up. So, I took her to the boys' locker room to do so." Drake blurted.

       Mr. Rye pressed his glasses close to his eyes, biting back a sigh. "And why, exactly, were you two walking around--alone, together?"

       I lifted my head and looked nervously at the tall, buff police man that stood in the corner of the room, with his head down as he scribbled notes onto the small scratch pad in his hands. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. What is he writing down? I pondered. Is he writing something bad about us?

       "We were...uh, Mrs. Harris wasn't in the classroom so all the other kids just left." I gave Drake a skittish glance. His only response was an awkward shrug, which comforted me a little.

       Mr. Rye and the cop kept their curious eyes on me, pinning me to the chair. If you act nervous, they'll get suspicious. I reminded myself. With more confidence this time I went on: "So, Drake and I left to go look for Mrs. Harris and, well, I..." I stopped myself, suddenly remembering the image of the teacher's bloody body appearing in my mind.

       "She went into the girls' locker room and I went into the boys' to check if she--uh, Mrs. Harris--was in there." Drake added.

       I nodded, looking at the cop.