I barely manged to get any sleep at all.
In the morning, I didn't even bother changing. I tied my hair and put on my shoes, avoiding the breakfast table like the plague, and I was out.
I had sent a quick text to Chase, asking him if we was alright, but he hadn't replied yet.
If he had ignored it on purpose, I was going to kill that douche. No joke.
On edge and barely awake, I had been honked at thrice on the road. It was a miracle I got to school at all.
Chase wasn't by his locker, neither did I see him in the hallway.
I told myself not to worry. He was probably in the bathroom or something.
But that theory was crap, even to my own ears.
I passed by the biology lab and peered in. Not a soul in sight, and everything looked in place like always.
I walked back into the hall. The warning bell rang, and students started shuffling to get to their classes.
What class did I have? I pulled up the picture of the schedule I had taken in the beginning of the year so I wouldn't have to carry it around, and saw that I had Chemistry.
I shuffled to class. When I entered, barely a handful of students were sitting, talking amongst themselves because the teacher hadn't arrived yet.
I took a seat at the back, my heart beating fast. Pick up, damn you! You better not have been caught!
Somebody tapped my shoulder and I almost screamed.
"Jumpy, are we?" Came an amused voice.
I whipped my head around to find Chase, grinning like an idiot.
"You... you cow!"
"My, my," he said, pulling a chair back so he could sit besides me. "You're getting more and more creative with your insults everyday."
"Shut up!" I hissed. I managed to keep my voice low in case somebody had overheard. This was highschool after all. "Why aren't you picking up my calls?"
"Didn't think you were the desperate type." He shrugged. He scratched the bottom of his lip and leaned his face against his hand. "I'm so tired," he yawned.
"Did you guys find anything?"
"Uh-huh." He said. "Daniel did a bunch of his sciency-shiț and found out a bunch of stuff."
I was over the edge and hated how Chase wasn't being specific.
The teacher arrived, and the class slowly began go settle down.
"Such as?" I urged, leaning closer to Chase.
"I don't know, man." His eyes were half asleep already. "Something about the oxygen content of the blood being low and containing excessive amounts of some chemical drug."
"Which was...?"
"Don't remember."
I pushed my hair back. The teacher was done writing on the blackboard and told us to open our books to page 45. I did so quietly.
"Did the blood match Freya's?" I whispered to Chase five minutes later.
"Not unless she's a B+" when I frowned at him, he explained. "She's not."
So the killer had the blood type B+, was a junkie, and probably smoked too much, which would explain the low oxygen content.
That left us with pretty much nothing.
Chase closed his eyes and went to sleep pretty much after that. The teacher went on and on about the 4 rules of the quantum theory, and somewhere in the middle, I dozed off too.
When the bell rang, I got up and rubbed the grogginess out of my eyes. I nudged Chase awake and his eyes flew open almost immediately. Huh, he was a light sleeper.
"I'll see you at lunch." He murmured before heading off. I exited the classroom and went to my locker.
"Hey you," Maya beamed at me. "How was chemistry?"
"Chem is chem," I groaned. "Maya, why do you always look so put together?" She was wearing her favourite skirt and a silk blouse, and her hair, like always, were just the right amount of curl. How, was what I wanted to know.
"You don't look so bad yourself." She laughed. "Even though you could use a bath and a night of sleep or something." She bumped her shoulder with mine. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."
I bit the inside of my lip. True, I missed our little hang-outs. "How about the cafè, after school?"
I was missing out on so much sleep it was unhealthy, and had planned a long nap afterwards. But I couldn't blow off Maya.
"Sorry, dance practice. Auditions are this Friday."
"Oh, yeah." I shook my head. I had completely forgotten. "You'll do great, don't worry."
"I'm not so sure." She got her books out of her locker and slammed it shut. "I hurt my foot yesterday, and it's not that bad, but it hurts when I land a pirouette."
My eyes instinctively glanced down at her shoes. She seemed to be walking fine, but then again I hadn't really noticed.
"Did you go to a doctor?"
She shook her head. "My instructor said it would heal in a day or two." She leaned against the wall by the water fountain. "But all this stress is getting to me."
She had no idea.
"You know what?" I said, starting to feel a little guilty. "You don't have to give up your evening lessons for me. The preparations are mostly done anyways."
She gave me a tight lipped smile. "It's okay, I really don't mind."
"But I do." I replied. "Seriously, it's fine."
Her smile brightened a little. "You're the best, you know that?"
I shut my books and sighed. I couldn't do this.
I had been sitting at the back of the library trying to get all my homework done, but my mind just wouldn't concentrate.
Which was bad, because I was already way behind in all my classes.
And while I didn't necessarily need to know the structure of mitochondria to lead a successful life, I did need it to pass Biology.
I checked the time. Lunch was almost over anyways. I slung my little bag over my shoulder and smiled at the substitute librarian as I walked past her.
The halls were mostly empty, which was rare. But I guess everyone was in the cafeteria.
I passed the biology lab and instinctively glanced in, gulping at nothing but air when I remembered last night.
"Dude, NO!" Somebody was yelling at the bottom of the second hallway steps.
More voices emerged, loud and familiar. Then giggles.
"Hey, Brien!" Daniel yelled.
I climbed down the steps. Daniel was walking towards me, along with Chase at the back with some girl. I recognized her as Dianne, she was in my Maths class.
"Why are you so loud?" I growled.
"Chase mixed vodka in my water bottle." He shrugged.
My eyes widening a little, I glanced at Chase. He was leaning against the locker with Dianne, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
"Is he drunk too?"
"Mm hmm. Don't you have Biology now?"
"Unfortunately yes." I replied.
"Oh, cool." Daniel replied. "I'll walk you to class." He glanced behind him. "Don't wanna be stuck here when Chase and that girl start fucķing in the janitor's closet." He shuddered.
I was about to tell him I was actually going to my locker, but instead I followed him the way I had just come from after throwing Chase and Dianne a dirty glare.
"How much did you have?" I asked him when I saw that he was slightly off.
"Enough." He winked. "I needed it."
And apparently Chase needed it too, I thought dryly.
"Hey did Chase tell you what happened this morning?" He chuckled.
"Not the whole story."
"So the janitor almost caught us." He explained. "Chase had to hide in the girl's bathroom?"
"Seriously?" I spluttered, letting out a surprised laugh. "Please tell me you got that on camera."
"Too busy collecting the evidence from the lab." He said. "Get this, the blood was the killer's."
Yeah, but there was no identification, rather than the fact that he was male, smoked a lot and apparently did drugs.
"Anything specific?"
"Actually, yes." He opened the lab door for me and we both slipped in. "My initial theory that the killer is a girl maybe wrong. But the blood sample gave us a lot to think about. The drug was off the norm - caused a deficiency in the blood of some kind. Probably pharmaceutical, but nothing you can get off the counter."
So the killer had a disease of some kind?
"Can you identify it?"
"Perhaps." A corner of his mouth lifted upwards. "I'll need my computer because it has an identification program, so I'll get right on it as soon as I go home."
We each took a seat, and I put my bag on the ground besides me. I rested my head on the table, above my outstretched arms. The lab was the size of two classrooms, complete with granite tables, several electrical outlets, taps and microscopes on each table. Charts of safety rules and student projects hung on the whitewashed walls.
"Today is going to be a good day." He smiled.
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"The school cameras are still disabled." He leaned back with both his hands against the back of his head. "And news is spreading like wildfire."
"What?" I looked at him. "How exactly did you hack into the school system?"
"My laptop." He replied. "And don't worry, I used a list of untraceable proxy servers."
"That's..."
"Chaotic." He finished. "Especially because I didn't reset the code."
The bell rang and five minutes later, students started filing in.
"You and Chase must be over the moon." I said to Daniel. "But it's not like you care about getting in trouble either way."
"My record is squeaky clean." He winked. "And Chase, he..."
"Doesn't care?" I repeated.
"Exactly."
By the end of the day, I was completely wiped. Daniel had been right, news had spread like wildfire. Teachers had resorted to old-school ways of patrolling the halls, and that was only after two fights and one heavy make-out session against the lockers had caused a hollering amount of deviant activity amongst us teenagers.
I could only guess who was involved.
But I was tempted to congratulate Daniel on a job well done. It took two hours for the principal to call in the maintenance guy to fix the cameras.
By the time I got home, mom was already there, seated on the carpet by the coffee table and hand-writing the invitations for the party. Her blonde hair was up in a bun, and she was in sweatpants. A rarity for Estella Brien.
"Hey mom," I greeted as I passed by her to go to the kitchen and grab a glass of water.
"How was school?" She called.
"Amazing." I replied sarcastically. But she didn't get it, and neither of us made an attempt at further conversation.
By five, I was sleeping peacefully in my bedroom with the curtains shut and the AC set on a comfy temperature when my phone buzzed.
Groaning, I pushed back the covers and grabbed it.
"What?" I growled into it, barely looking at the number.
"He identified the drug." Came a smug voice.
"Chase?" I sat up in bed straighter and stifled a yawn. "What are you talking about?"
"Daniel. Identified. The. Drug." He said to me slowly as if I was illeterate. "Gee, and I thought I had bad hangovers."
"I just woke up." I snapped. "Anyways, continue. What were you saying?"
"It's medication for a nervous disorder, and can only be prescribed by a doctor. Anyways, we did the research and found that only two pharmacies are licensed to sell it in the area."
"Okay," I blinked. "And what's my part in all this?"
"How are you so sure you have one?" He asked in an amused voice.
"You wouldn't be calling me if I didn't." Suppressing a sigh, I quickly got up and put on my slippers.
"We need you to check out one of the pharmecies. It's close to your house. Do you know Richmond hospital?"
"Who doesn't?" I replies. It was a huge hopital, with an entire wing dedicated to cardiology and heart studies. And it was only a five minute drive from my house.
"But how do you know it's this one?" I asked him. "It could be the other."
"Already checked the other out."
"Fine," I said. "I'll call you when I get there."
I shut off the phone and accidently slammed it on the bedside table.
I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. What had I just agreed to?
I changed into a fresh set of clothes, quickly brushed my hair and put on my shoes.
"Going somewhere?" My mom asked when I passed her on my way to the front door.
"Craving donuts." I automatically replied.
"Don't have more than one, dear. Donuts are really bad for you."
I nearly rolled my eyes at at. Bad for you meant they would make you fat.
"Don't worry, mom." I said. I wasn't in the mood to start an argument.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in my car which was currently parked near the pharmacy.
My heart was beating faster than usual.
"What if I get caught or something?" I said into the phone.
"What grounds are they going to charge you on?" Chase replied. "You need to stop acting like you've got a pole stuck up your ass and--"
"Chase!" I snapped. "Shut up!"
And then I did something he wasn't expecting - I shut off the phone.
Which was a wrong move, especially on my part. We hadn't even discussed the plan yet.
You got this, I said to myself. It was time to wing it.
I got out of the car and headed into the pharmacy. A doctor passed by, and a lady was ordering birth control at the counter.
"I'll need to see your ID." The man behind the counter told her.
Hang on... that gave me an idea.
When the lady was done, I walked up to the man who could hardly be over 27, and flipped my hair over my shoulder in what I thought to be a seductive motion.
I probably looked like a cow.
But apparently, the man didn't seem to think so.
"Hey," he said with a smile. "What can I help you with?"
"Um," I started off, unsure of how to phrase my words. "A man bought Nyrospecime from here a couple of days ago, and unfortunately, he lost his ID. I was wondering if you'd seen any lost cards or something around here?"
I wondered if he could tell that I was fibbing. Nobody lost their ID, as far as I knew. But he didn't need to know that.
"Nyrospecime?" The man frowned. I read his name on the card handing from his pocket. Joseph. "That's quite rare. Can I have this guy's name please?"
Shiț! What do I do now?
Play it cool, apparently.
"You tell me," I smiled, leaning in closer. "How many people come in here buying that sort of drug?"
"Not many." He replied. He turned around and called the other guy. "Dec, did anyone come in here and get a dose of Nyrospecime?"
"Only Rolan Deyer." The other guy shrugged. "Came and bought two bottles a week ago."
"Rolan." I nodded. The killer finally had a name, and the whole thought of the possibility caused shivers up my spine. "Did he leave any ID or...?"
"Is he related to you?" One of the guys asked. The other went at the back to check.
"Third cousin." I said in what I hoped would be a convincing lie.
The other guy returned. "Nothing. Just a woman who lost an old check."
"Right, anyways, thanks."
Joseph opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, I turned on my heel and was out of the door.
When I got back to the car, there was a text waiting for me.
Same cafè from last week. Meet us there when you're done.
Chase must be talking about the same cafè that day when it started raining.
I swerved the car around, the name running through my brain. Rolan Deyer.
He was the guy that killed Freya Reed. The guy that mercilessly stabbed the girl in the stomach six times.
The cafè had its usual mid-evening rush, which meant around five to six people to the minimum. Daniel and Chase had chosen at quite spot in the corner and were talking to each other in hushed tones when I arrived.
"Rolan Deyer." I said as soon as I arrived at their table. "That's our killer."
Daniel pursed his lips. I sat across him, next to Chase who was lazily sipping at his hot chocolate.
"First of all, good job." Daniel grinned at Chase. "Ha, you owe me twenty bucks."
I frowned at the two of them. "For what?"
Chase growled and took out two wadded up ten dollar bills from his pocket.
"He bet you couldn't do it." Said Daniel.
I narrowed my eyes at Chase and nudged him in the rib. Hard.
"You're so abusive, woman!" He snapped, patting the side of the stomach.
"Maybe you're just too soft."
"Trust me, I'm anything but." Sensing a double meaning in his words, I turned to Daniel, who had already opened up his laptop.
"Rolan Deyer." He repeated. His brows tugged together as he pulled up a program and typed in the name.
"Here we go." He muttered, pulling up the file. He turned the laptop towards us so we could see.
A picture popped up of a guy with chin-length brown hair in red flannel. In the close-cropped said photo, he had small, beady eyes and thick eyebrows.
"That's our guy." Said Daniel. "Convicted thrice of assault, mugging and robbery, twice for driving stoned."
"Wow," I peered closer into the laptop. "He looks..."
"Like a stoner?" Chase asked. "Funny how his grandfather owns Dantè and all the other clubs in town."
"Wait, his grandfather owns Dantè?! How do you know even know that?"
"Recognized his last name." Chase shrugged.
I held back a frown. How could Chase have recognized the name? He just moved here.
Daniel turned to his laptop again and typed in a few sentences. "Yup, and Dantè's is the biggest club he owns."
"But something doesn't add up." He continued. A waiter walked by and Daniel shut down his laptop. He stayed quiet until he made sure no one was listening. "This doesn't look like a normal case of mugging-gone-wrong."
I let out a sharp breath. He had motive to kill Freya.
Chase suddenly grinned. "I have an idea."
Daniel groaned. "Your ideas always end up in turmoil, more or less ruining my day." But nevertheless, he leaned in closer, waiting to hear what Chase had to say.
"Let's confront Rolan Deyer. Chances are, he's likely to be at Dantè's. Get his confession on tape, then give it to the police. Cash in some extra bucks, too."
"Absolutely not!" I immediately hissed. "I say we go to the police right now and tell them all we know. Think of how much trouble we're already in!"
Chase looked around, and his eyes settled on me. "You said it yourself, we're already in trouble. Besides, think of all the positive media coverage this would get. Maybe it would help balance the negativity your father's been causing."
I glared at him. The whole idea was ridiculous, not to mention daugerous!
Yet... he had a point.
We were already in trouble.
"Okay, I'm in." I finally said. "But put 911 on speed dial, just in case."
Chase snorted. "Let me forge a police warrant too." He said sarcastically. "Brien, all you have to do is show up and act as bait. Or better yet, don't show up at all."
"Didn't realize I was such a burden." I snapped back.
"It's not that," he answered. He looked pretty frustrated, but at that point, I didn't care. "Its just... you don't know what goes on in these places. One minute, you could be dancing and the next, held at gunpoint getting numbers thrown around! You're so... naive, it makes me sick."
I clenched my fists under the table.
"Didn't realise you cared so much about my safety!"
"You're right," he said, fuming. He suddenly got up. "I don't care. It's not like I would want you anything other than to warm my bed, sweetheart!" He made a move for the door and two seconds later, he was out of sight.
"He's so..." I clenched my jaw in anger.
"Annoying? Frustrating?" Daniel helped with a chuckle. "Trust me, I know. But it's not his fault."
"It's not his fault?" I said, narrowing my eyes at Daniel. "You're saying he doesn't care about all the words he stirs up shiț with? Or that he doesn't know?"
"Neither." It's frustrating how calm Daniel is. "He doesn't care, period. It's not like he's had any good influences."
"What?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Why?"
"His father left when he was three," Daniel sighed. "Mother at four. Been moved from foster house to foster house, which resulted in his incapability to trust or to love."
"You make him sound emotionally dead."
The corner of his mouth lifted up. I noticed how it was an unconscious, usual habit. "Why else does he use girls for sex?" Daniel asks rhetorically. "He doesn't like baggage. Never has."
"He's never had one person to care about?"
"Not one." Daniel answers. He straightens his back and puts his laptop in his bag, getting ready to leave. "But he's taken a special liking in you, Brien. Don't think he does that often."
"What, becomes friends with girls?"
That's what I'd like to think we were anyways.
"No - cares for them. Just a little more than usual."