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The police searched the man’s apartment for any evidence that Jamie had been there. They were looking for anything- a bit of DNA, a hair, a fingerprint, a drop of blood that had been missed. They searched his car even though the neighbors said it hadn’t moved. They searched the outside of his apartment building. The motel room he’d been staying in before he was caught. But there was nothing. No DNA, no proof Jamie had ever been in any location they looked. That said a lot to me, because no dumb asshole like that guy would ever be that good at cleaning up. He hadn’t even destroyed his shrine before he kidnapped his obsession and took off.
The memorial was rough. It felt like we were just giving up on Jamie. I didn’t want to go, but I had to, because if the police were right and he was really gone, I’d never forgive myself if I missed it. But even though the memorial was hard, it wasn’t as hard as it was to sit in that courtroom and look at the man who’d taken Jamie away from me. I’d thought I could handle it, but it turned out I was not handling it well. The man in front of me had snatched Jamie right out from under me, had done unspeakable things to him. But I didn’t believe the story ended the way he told it.
I could see my friends watching me as I continued to stare at the floor, running my hands through my hair then gripping it at the back of my head. I’d always taken care of my hair. It was always perfect, in that messy way that looked like I didn’t care but actually took a long time to perfect. By the court date, though, I truly didn’t care. My dirty blonde waves were wild and greasy, and it didn’t even matter. What did, without Jamie?
The judge was going over the evidence that had been presented. They’d rushed the preliminary hearing to make sure he was off the streets. They wanted to make sure his attorney didn’t find some sort of loophole that allowed him to bond out. They knew, just like I did, that if he got out of jail for a second, he would disappear.
If they did find proof that he was telling the truth about all of it, that Jamie was really gone, then I’d make sure he was gone, too. If they wouldn’t give him the death penalty, I’d kill him right in the courthouse. I didn’t care if I went to jail, I didn’t care if I died, as long as that man was dead, too. If he took everything from Jamie, who’d only started to live, then I would take everything from him.
The judge paused and looked sternly at the man I despised most in the world. The only person I’d ever wanted to kill. Wally. I wasn’t even sure what she’d been saying. I knew she was talking about the messages, the photos, the shrine, the restraining order, the call to his mother. It was so obvious he was guilty, but he didn’t show an iota of regret, even in that courtroom. It didn’t matter what the judge was saying, because none of them were helping me.
I glanced around at my friends, who’d surrounded me in my chosen seat. I knew they thought I was unstable, and they weren’t too far off with that assumption. They might be there to stop me from doing something crazy, and maybe they even thought they were protecting me, but they wouldn’t be able to accomplish their goals. I needed answers. And I would not stop until I had them.
Chapter 3
September
I ditched my teammates on Wednesday, telling Jeff I’d catch up to them at practice. Brad had already taken off with his two buddies, but Jeff was trailing behind them, making sure they didn’t try anything stupid like they had on the previous day. I loitered in the quad longer than normal, and I started to think maybe Jamie had taken a different route to avoid Brad completely. Possibly to avoid me, too. That one pinged my chest more than I cared to admit.
But then I saw him, walking slowly and looking down at his phone as he headed in my direction. He might have stalled to avoid us, or maybe something else had delayed him. Either way, I doubted he’d be scared away completely that easily. He hadn’t seemed afraid at all the previous day, just annoyed and angry. I pulled the little box out of my backpack before he reached me. “Hey.”
Jamie startled a little when I spoke, and looked up, confused. His eyes narrowed in suspicion when he saw me, but he didn’t slow his approach. I held the box out toward him. “I got you something.”
He slowed to a stop right in front of me, staring at my outstretched hand and the box in it. He looked skeptical but curious, and the curiosity must have won out in the end because he hesitantly reached out and took it from me. “What’s this?” I just shrugged as though it was all no big deal.
He pulled the lid off the box and stared down at the pearl choker inside. He stared at it for so long without moving or speaking that I started to get a little nervous. “Did I get the wrong one?”
He looked up sharply, as though suddenly remembering I was there. “Why did you get me this?” It wasn’t as accusatory as most of the things he’d said to me so far. It was still full of confusion and laced with suspicion. He was on high alert and did not trust me at all.
I shrugged again. “Because my dumbass teammate broke yours. Because it never should have been broken in the first place, and I should have done more to stop it.”
He looked back down at the choker. “You didn’t have to go out and buy me a new one. I told you, you’re not the one who should be apologizing.”
“Right,” I said with a sigh, “Just the one leaving you alone. And I will, I swear. I just wanted to do this first. I think it’s bullshit that he broke yours. I wish it hadn’t happened, and it wasn’t a big deal for me to get one. It’s just a twelve-dollar choker from Angie’s, right?” He looked up at me but said nothing. “Anyway,” I went on, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m really sorry it happened, and that I really do admire you, even though it may not feel that way.” I nodded at him politely and turned to walk away.
“Caden…right?” I paused, turning back to face him. For the first time since Brad had started acting a fool to him, Jamie didn’t have that suspicious look on his face. Confusion, definitely. But he looked maybe just a tiny sliver more trusting. At the very least, no longer vengefully wary.
I nodded, acknowledging that he had my name right. “Thanks,” he said. He hesitated for a second before adding, “You really didn’t have to get me this. I meant what I said. I never blamed you for what some asshat said or did. You’re not his keeper.”
“Yeah, I know, but it was still bullshit. I was there when he did it. I just wanted to try to make it a little better. Even though I can’t go back and stop it, I thought maybe I could at least replace what he broke.” I paused because I was worried that I actually couldn’t. That choker had seemed to mean more to him than “just a twelve-dollar choker from Angie’s at the mall.” There had been something in his eyes as he’d looked down at those faux pearls scattered all over the sidewalk that told me it had sentimental value, as well. For some reason, I felt compelled to add, “I know some things can’t be replaced. I just wanted to try.”
He knew what I was saying, and for some reason he trusted me enough to say, “My sister gave it to me.” He didn’t elaborate. I had no way to know if it was a going-away gift when he left for college, or if something had happened to his sister. His walls seemed to come back up a little bit after he spoke, so I wasn’t going to push it.
I blamed it on empathy at the time, but I don’t really know what possessed me to say, “Can I buy you a coffee?” He held his head high, but there was underlying sadness or pain, and something about him made me want to make everything better. I wanted to show him that not all of us were like Brad. That even some of the jocks who were at all the parties, and everyone knew by name, still had hearts. That we weren’t all assholes. At least, that was the full reason I allowed myself to believe.
He looked at me warily again, and I really hated that. “Don’t you have hockey practice right about now?” Shit. I did. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in myself to care, though.
I shrugged. “Sometimes too much practice isn’t a good thing. Especially when I’m using every opportunity I get to knock Brad on his ass or cause him some sort of bodily harm. I can practice tomorrow. I’m not too worried about it.” I was fully confident, in fact, but with good reason. Let’s face it, I was the best damn player in the school. I’d led them to victory the previous year, and I’d do it again. We were nearly undefeated, mostly thanks to me. Missing one practice wasn’t going to hurt anything.
The campus coffee shop wasn’t that far. It had the best coffee on earth, and I could really go for a cup, anyway. I hadn’t lied completely. I could use a break from practice, and from Brad. Jamie hesitated, though, and I could tell an excuse was coming. “I really need to study…”
I didn’t want to let him get away that easily. I’d just earned a little bit of trust, and I didn’t want to lose it immediately. I was telling the truth when I said I admired him. He was always so confident, and so completely himself, no matter what anyone else thought. I wanted to be more like him. I didn’t fully understand what that meant or what I was trying to be, but I was aware that I’d let the expectations of other people cloud my vision for a long time. I knew I’d let other people dictate who I was. My parents, my childhood friends, my coach, my teammates. I was constantly trying to be a different person for different people, and then there was Jamie, doing whatever suited him. If he wanted to dress like a girl, he did. If he wanted to dress like a boy, he did. If he wanted to wear make-up or paint his nails, he did. If not, he didn’t. He never seemed to care what anyone thought of him, and I wanted to be more like that.
“It’s just a cup of coffee, man. I’m not going to keep you out all night. You’ll have plenty of time to study. And you can’t tell me a little caffeine won’t help. You know they have the best coffee here, and I really need a reason to ditch practice today.” I thought maybe if I appealed to his empathy it would help. And maybe it wasn’t the whole truth, but it also wasn’t a lie.
His eyes softened a tiny bit. He finally shrugged, as though he didn’t have a care in the world and his plans constantly changed on a whim. “Alright then. Let’s go.”
We took off in the direction of the coffee shop. It wasn’t a long walk, but I tried to make small talk to fill the somewhat awkward silence that had begun to permeate the space around us. “So, what’s your major?” I glanced over at him, taking in the black cargo pants with chains on them that I was pretty sure he’d found at Hot Topic, the tight, faded obscure band t-shirt, and the fingerless, elbow-length fishnet gloves as I tried to predict what he might say.
