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When I got home that night, I found a box of pictures and old yearbooks. After pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I went through them. Pictures of Katie and I goofing off, taking road trips and hikes, every homecoming and prom. We always exchanged yearbooks first, and in her freshman one, I almost confessed my feelings but chickened out. That’s the summer Gabe moved to town, and they started dating.
I find the first one of mine she ever signed and smile as I read her handwriting.
My dearest Noah,
Thanks for helping me get through my first year of high school. Though I had Gemma and Everleigh’s support, you made sure I had fun at football games and sent me flowers so my Valentine’s Day wasn’t lame. Can’t wait to hang out all summer and make even more memories :-)
Love,
“Your Girl” for life (haha)
I snort at how she ended her message as the memory of our inside joke surfaces. We were together so much that people assumed we were dating, so I would openly call her my girl. After correcting it the first ten times, we stopped and let them think whatever they wanted. When she didn’t say anything about it, I figured she was sick of telling people we were only friends, but I wonder if she secretly felt the same as me.
I find another box in my closet filled with folded-up notebook paper. Katie and I exchanged notes all through middle and high school. They were mostly about silly kid stuff and what we were gonna do after school that day. We’d both gotten caught a handful of times by teachers for writing them in class, but it never stopped us. Sometimes I’d draw funny things just to see her smile and hear her laugh.
Though it’s been years, I wonder if she saved any that I sent her. I have a feeling she had a burn party on my behalf, but a part of me knows she’d never do that, no matter how mad she was.
I’ve been distracted as hell at work for the past two days, and I need to get my head on straight so I don’t make any mistakes on the job. It’s the middle of the week, and as we get closer to the re-opening, there’s more stress to get everything done and the equipment built on time.
As I drive closer to the gym, I notice Sheriff Todd parked out front. Tyler and Smith are outside, but I can’t see what’s going on.
Once I hop out of the truck, I rush over and notice the broken glass on the sidewalk. The big front window is completely smashed in.
“What happened?” I ask as all three men stare at me. “Everyone okay?”
“We’re good. Someone threw a brick into the window sometime in the middle of the night,” Tyler confirms.
“Gonna see if the business across the street caught anything on their security camera, but until then, I’ll get this vandalism report filed so you can get it fixed as soon as possible,” Sheriff Todd says.
Tyler thanks him, and we watch him drive off.
“I’ll start cleaning this up inside,” Smith says before walking off.
“Why would someone do this?” I ask. “Someone against you opening?” There aren’t any competitor gyms in town, so that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense.
“No, actually…there was a note wrapped around the brick.” Tyler looks down, and it’s obvious he’s not telling me something.
“What’d it say?”
He inhales sharply before slowly exhaling. “Umm…”
“Tyler,” I press. “Just tell me.”
He finally meets my eyes, then frowns. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. When I open it, I read the word MURDERER written across it.
Guilt immediately surfaces, and my shoulders drop. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
I wave the note in the air. “Clearly it is. Someone’s obviously not happy I’m working for you. I’ll cover the expenses.”
“Noah, stop. You’re not paying for it. That’s what I have insurance for.”
“I insist. It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t work for you. I’m a risk to your business.”
“You’re not risking shit. I couldn’t have gotten this much done without you. Fuck whoever did this. Got it?” Tyler pats my shoulder.
I blow out a frustrated breath. He’s being much more reasonable than I deserve.
“At least let me help clean up.”
“Fine, but wear your work gloves. I’ll get the broom.”
I look around the area and am glad that no other businesses were vandalized.
“I’m gonna look for another job out of town,” I tell Tyler when he returns. “I can’t be the reason Club Blackwood suffers.”
“Absolutely not,” he retorts, handing me the broom. “We aren’t letting whoever did this ruin a good thing. You’re a hard worker, and I need you as much as you need this job.”
“You’re sure?”
