Not According To Plan (Preath Fanfiction) (Co-written by @uswntloves1723)

2: Leather Sleeves, Leather Seats

Christen's POV
Time: 6PM, one day since the incident

As I sit on my bed, the tears just don't stop. I really miss Tobin. Wherever she is, I can only hope that she's safe. I haven't heard from the police or Detective McDaniel.

I know I'm not supposed to go in Tobin's apartment right now, but the investigators haven't even gone through it yet, and it frustrates me to no end. I decide to go over, but I need to be on the down-low. This means a pair of leggings, a Stanford hoodie, no makeup, hair down, glasses on, and Snapchat location off. As if I cared to look better than that anyway.

On my way to the bathroom I pass the corner of my dresser, where the promise ring Tobin got for me stares me down from that little spot in the centre. I took it off for a shower yesterday before she was... taken, hours before it happened. Ever since, I can't bring myself to put it on again. It's not so much because it reminds me of her as it is the fact it makes me feel unworthy.

For us both, the rings symbolized a promise of loyalty and trust. But for me individually? I also promised myself to watch Tobin's back, take care of her when she's sick, and be there for her in everything. Be there for her more than I've been there for my family with this job I have, which is the one thing I regret about what I do.

Besides feeling guilty, my anger's like a kettle. My parents keep saying "kidnapped." I hate the word kidnapped. It just reminds me that we're both grown women who should've been smarter and stronger when that car came. No matter what Tobin might have done that she didn't tell me about, I should've been able to help her.

I know that all that these silly emotions do is mask the worst emotion I feel, which is immense fear. However, I don't let myself go there. Tobin needs me more than my feelings do.

After the briefest of meditation breaks, I head for the bathroom and watch my searing kettlewater eyes boil in the mirror.

"Looks like I'm Press the Mess today," I mutter to myself, kinda laughing. I brush my teeth, but that's all I do before I'm ready to leave.

Outside Tobin's apartment, I almost knock, not yet having gotten it through my head that she's not there. You're probably thinking, why would I ever have knocked anyway? Well, only once do you walk in on Tobin jumping barefoot on the couch cushions, controller in hand, impersonating Kirby from Super Smash Bros. In fact, everybody's walked in on that once.

Staring at the crooked "15B" on her door, I reach into my purse for my key, the vision of Tobin-Kirby still dancing in my head. I open the door to the cheap and cramped living room she loved so dearly. (The mountain range of socks across the floor was for "keeping the carpet warm, because while the carpet keeps the floor warm it has nothing to keep it warm itself". Right.) I walk down the hallway and notice how her door is shut, which she never does unless we're... well, you know.

I walk in her room and open the closet. Her emergency cash is there, thank God. Leather brushes against me. I was sure it had been mine at one point, but we never really figured that out, so we just shared it. The jacket sways on the hanger. Not having been washed in a while since it's only a coat, each swing releases a scent of stale unisex cologne that reminds me of Tobin. If she was here, she'd probably say it smelled like me.

Her computer lays on the desk, closed. I open it.

Password: __________ ->

I type in the usual password, NotEggnogWithoutNutmeg17.

Password is incorrect.

Huh? That's always it, unless Allie got her hands on it at lunch somewhere. I try another.