Monday, May 17
Ms. Speltzer was wearing a set of silver bangles that clinked and jangled as her hand traveled across the whiteboard. The faint noise didn't bother me. It reminded me of wind chimes. Or the distant jingle of my alarm trying to cut through a slow dream. Hunched over my desk, I kept my eyes on the board and willed myself to focus, but the words she jotted down remained a blur.
Monday mornings were the worst. I could barely articulate. Putting pen to paper was out of the question. To avoid disaster, I never wore shoes with laces or elaborate hairdos. The effort of staying awake and present in the moment took all I had.
This would change once I found my groove. By the fourth period, I would be sufficiently alert to hold a conversation. I would zap through Tuesday. Wednesdays were usually okay because once I made it to the afternoon, it was downhill to the weekend. The rest of the school week would fly by. Before I knew it, it would be the weekend, time to kick back and sleep in.
But just like that, those precious hours would fly by and the slog would resume. I would find myself in yet another classroom on yet another hazy Monday morning, failing to shake off the sleepiness. The struggle was real.
I listened to Ms. Speltzer's bangles sing and thought about making myself a paint-day soundtrack. Billie Eilish and Tate McRae for starters; tunes that I could dance to barefoot while swinging my paint roller. I needed all the help I could get because painting had turned out to be much harder than I thought. Despite my best efforts, yesterday I only managed to get one coat done. As a reward, I had to sleep on the living room couch because I hadn't realized how long it took to air a room.
Actually, the whole weekend was a bit of a letdown. I had hoped to meet up with Arlo and work on our project but when I texted him, he answered that he was busy. Watching BigFoot-age. Lame. He proposed we get together at school during one of our free periods. That threw me off. If he wasn't interested in seeing me outside of school, why give me his number?
I saw him with my peripheral vision, slumped over his desk by the window. I had the feeling he was looking at me but I couldn't afford to turn and check. I didn't want to give him the slightest reason to think that I cared. No, what I was interested in, was making good progress on the Health project during school hours. That way, I would get to keep my weekend free and finish painting.
I would put on some music, tie a bandana around my head and get down to business. If done right, painting could be fun. I was sure of it. Elephant Breath. Dead Salmon. Pale Hound. If one could get creative about something as mundane as naming colors, I could get inspired to layer up coats of paint onto my walls.
The loudspeaker above the board crackled.
Zoe Wallis, please report to the principal's office.
My name floating in a sea of static. It sounded foreign. It didn't belong.
Marisol, seating right behind me, tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and my pen rolled off my desk. It landed a few feet away but it might have just as well tumbled down the Grand Canyon. Out of reach. No way I could bend down and make my fingers pick it up. Mission Impossible.
"You're a wanted woman, Zoe," Marisol whispered conspiratorially. "What did you do?"
I was wondering the same. This was not how Monday mornings were supposed to go.
Ms. Speltzer lowered the marker, miffed that I was still idling at my desk.
"Zoe?"
Right, she expected me to run to the office. I stood up, the weight of everyone's questions on my shoulders. Arlo's too; I could literally feel his eyes boring holes in my back. Still, I didn't turn to look.
Moving at a glacial pace, I lifted my backpack off the floor and grabbed my binder. Screw the pen, not worth it. What could the principal want from me? As I closed the classroom door behind me it suddenly hit me and I went weak at the knees. My mom. Something had happened to her.
The secretary waved me in. She was a grey-haired woman with thin lips and even thinner eyebrows. But today her perpetual scorn was softened by a look of concern. That didn't bode well.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the Principal's office only it wasn't me walking in. It was a teenage girl clutching a red binder, messy hair pulled into a droopy ponytail, skin clammy with nerves. I hovered above her right shoulder, keeping watch. I was an impassive observer, detached from the panic which had seized her. My first out-of-body experience.
I saw everything with unnatural clarity. The scaly skin on Principal DeHan's bald head, the photographs of his smiling wife and their three children on the window sill behind him, the dust on the leaves of the Philodendron in the corner. A tall man stood to the side. His back was rod-straight, his hands planted firmly on his hips, as if ready to draw and shoot. A Sheriff's star pinned on his chest. It was Jim Lundy. My heart dropped. If the Sheriff was here, this couldn't be good.
Unlike mine, his dark hair was neatly parted and combed to one side. His uniform fit him like a second skin. Khaki shirt and dark green pants pressed to perfection. Pointy cowboy boots. I took in his steely eyes, his square jaw. Something told me that I would remember this moment forever.
"Good morning, Zoe." The principal motioned towards the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat. Please."
Reluctantly, I did as I was told. I rested my stuff on my knees and I hugged my backpack as if holding it between us could protect me from whatever it was they had to say.
The principal took a deep breath and began.
"Zoe, you might know Sheriff Lundy. He is here to-"
"Is my mom ok?" I blurted out.
"Your mom?" The principal shot a confused glance at the Sheriff but quickly composed himself. "She is fine, Zoe, nothing to worry about."
The relief that washed over me was so potent that it manifested in a timid smile but their stern expressions told me this was no laughing matter.
"I wanted to see you for a different reason. This morning..." Principal DeHan started but lost his resolve.
Sheriff Lundy stepped in, his voice perfectly even.
"Sienna Gershwin was reported missing this morning."
It occurred to me that he probably had plenty of experience delivering bad news. Part of the job, surely. Woah, wait a minute. Did he say, Sienna?
"With missing cases, time is of the essence," continued the Sheriff. "That's why I'm here."
He wasn't making sense.
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Sienna is not missing."
My eyes traveled from his impassive face to Principal DeHan's who was busy examining his hands. It was clear that he was leaving it to the Sheriff to do the talking.
"When her mother went to wake her up for school this morning, she wasn't in her room," said Victor's dad. "Her car was gone too."
"Then she must be in class." Why was it up to me to state the obvious?
"Sienna is not at school, Zoe," said the principal quietly.
"Then she skipped class. So what? It's not the first time." I didn't get why they were being so dramatic about it. "Do you want me to call her?"
I took out my phone not waiting for a reply. The first thing I saw was a new message. 'Zoe, this is Fred, Sienna's father. Do you know where she is?'
The text had come while I was already in class and my phone was on silent or I would have read it earlier. Sienna's father was looking for her. That's why they were so worked up. Sienna's dad was a big deal in Bruler. One call from him would send everyone scurrying.
I felt bad for Sienna. When she returned from her shopping excursion later today, she would find half the Sheriff's department looking for her.
I clicked the message away and dialed Sienna. My call went straight to voicemail. This had never happened before. Her phone was never off, never.
" I don't understand," I blurted out.
Sheriff Lundy sat on the edge of the desk and leaned forward towards me.
"I hear the two of you are close."
Did my mom tell him that? Or Victor?
Welcome to Bruler, where people have nothing better to do but gossip.
"Do you know where she is?" he asked.
I held his eyes. It was easy because I had nothing to hide.
"No."
"She didn't mention that she might be taking off?"
"Sienna? Taking off? As in running from home? No way."
"So she had no reason to leave? Nothing happened recently that would make her run away? Disagreement with her parents? Boy trouble?"
I thought back to the Saturday night we spent goofing around in her closet, dreaming of finding true love.
"No, nothing like that."
"Did she have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?"
"Not currently. She was dating Tyler but they broke up in March."
The Sheriff pulled out a little notebook and a pen from his breast pocket.
"Tyler, you say?"
"Tyler Bianchi. He's a senior."
The principal got up with a grunt and walked around me moving slowly like an old man. I didn't think it was possible for someone to age in front of your eyes but the news of Sienna's disappearance had taken a toll.
He opened the door and poked his head out.
"Judy? Can you get Tyler Bianchi here, please?"
Sheriff Lundy waited for the door to close before he went on.
"Sienna is not in trouble for leaving," he said in a voice that suggested that when they found her, she'd be in a world of pain. "All we care about right now is that we bring her home safely."
"I'm not covering for her, if that's what you mean."
Jim Lundy straightened up and adjusted his duty belt.
"Sienna is lucky to have you as her friend. I know because my son Victor speaks very highly of you."
I cringed. Why was Victor talking to his father about me?
The Sheriff sighed and dropped his voice as if he was about to impart a secret. "Loyalty is important. I get that. But if she confided in you, telling us will not be a betrayal. Her parents are worried sick. If you truly have Sienna's best interest at heart, you should help us find her."
"I wish I could help but I really have no idea where she is. Maybe-" I turned to Principal DeHan for support, "-maybe somebody kidnapped her. Did you think of that?"
"Zoe, this is Bruler," announced the Principal like it was breaking news. What was he trying to say? That we have nothing scarier than Bigfoot around here?
Sheriff Lundy pursed his lips contemplating how much to reveal, then decided to tell me.
"The Gershwins home security system has her on video. She snuck out of the house a little before midnight, got into her car, and drove away. Sienna disabled the house alarm and left on her own free will."
Not an abduction then. But why did she go out so late and where to? This wasn't right.