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I was almost out of breath when I spotted her standing on her driveway, already in pajamas, holding her phone.

"Did you get it too?" I wheezed, leaning down onto my knees.

"I did, what does this mean?" She sounded scared. "Do you think someone stole his phone?"

"Maybe, I hope not, we should find out..." I trailed off as a sleek black car pulled up to Rosie's driveway.

Chase Lisa kicked the driver side door open. She was dressed in just a hoodie in jeans but her eyeliner was winged and sharp like she was ready to stab a man. Her power was back, Chase was back.

"Hop in ladies," she smirked.

"Did you get the text too?" Rosie asked, as we slid into the back and buckled our seatbelts.

"You bet you're pretty pink bandana I did," Chase flashed a smile full of shining white teeth at us. "I know what you're thinking, someone's obviously stolen his phone and is trying to lure a bunch of teenagers to a secondary location, but I've already called Ramon and Johnny, they got it too. But only them, it's just the five of us that got the text. Just us."

"You think it's really him?"

"I think we're going to be really careful and I'm not letting anyone go anywhere before I check it out first, but yes, I have high hopes," she admitted, clenching the steering wheel.

We must have only driven about ten miles away but it felt like longer as I ran through the motions of what I might say to Gordon when we saw him. If we saw him. I hoped we saw him. I didn't want to have anymore hate left in my heart, and a small part of me missed him. Not romantically, but I did miss his presence.

Rosie's fingers curled around mine and she squeezed my hand gently. I glanced over at her and smiled reassuringly. She offers her stable assurance and I accept it, taking it into my heart and taking deep breaths filled with the smell of pink love.

"I hope he's okay," she said, genuinely.

"Me too."

"He's okay," Chase said, like she was convincing herself along with the rest of us.

She pulled into the parking lot of one-star motel off the side of a country road in the middle of nowhere. There were tumbleweeds rolling across the cracked asphalt and even fewer cars. Johnny and Ramon were already there. Ramon was pacing and Johnny was leaning against his dad's car. When we climbed out, Chase glared at Johnny angrily, and for a moment no one spoke.

"I'm sorry," Johnny spoke first.

Chase's expression softened, "you don't usually apologize."

Johnny shrugged and stared down at his shoes. "I think it's about time I started."

Chase tilted her head, then walked towards him and wrapped her arms around him. Johnny blinked rapidly, his hands hanging in the air like stubby little t-rex arms. Then he gently hugged her back.

"Johnny, I still don't think we should be together anymore," she said to him, when she stepped away.

"That's fair," his voice cracked.

"Not because I don't love you, you're one of my best friends," Chase explained, brushing her hand against his cheek. "I'm just not your other half, baby."

He nodded, leaning into her hand when she pulled it away. "I know, part of me agrees."

"The other part?" She asked.

"Misses you."

"I'll never leave," she promised. "You'll find your string Johnny, I know it."

Beside me, Ramon clenched his hands into fists. Before anything else could be said, however. All of our phones let out a series of beeps as our ring tones went off. We yanked them out and read the text the five of us had received.

I'm in room 14

"Stay behind me please," Chase commanded, taking the lead.

We climbed the stairs to the top level of the dingy motel complex and walked the hallway until we came across the door with the number fourteen nailed on in rusty numbers. Chase swallowed, then knocked four times. I could feel my breath lodge in my throat.

The door opened, I let out a shaky breath of relief. Standing there in wrinkled unwashed clothes, was a person with scraggly too-long blonde hair and tired blue eyes. Gordon smiled at us weakly, and waved with a hand covered in messy pale blue nail polish.

"Hey guys."

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