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“Dislike is an understatement,” I murmur under my breath.
“But it really doesn’t seem like her or Lily are involved in anyway,” he finishes, ignoring my remark.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I shake my head and feel an uncontrollable surge of jealousy bubbling up inside. “Does she talk about anyone else being angry with her in there? How do you not see she is the only feasible lead we have right now?”
“Read it for yourself,” he answers curtly, shoving the book into my hands. “I’m not trying to protect Vivian and Lily. I’m only telling you what it sounds like.”
“Well, she might not have known what Vivian was up to!” I insist. “Or Lily, for that matter. I mean, doesn’t it seem odd? Vivian is heartless and only cares about social status. Being mad at Bernadette over what happened to her parents…do you really think she’d still try to be friends with her after that?” My arms are flailing as I rant, and I can’t even bring myself to focus on the written words in my hands as he requested. “And taking in Lily all of a sudden. That doesn’t seem suspicious to you?”
“I guess you just don’t know them like I do,” he defends. “You don’t understand the dynamics of their friendships.”
I scoff and stew in my building rage, pretending to finally start reading the diary. But the words all blur together in my line of vision. All I can see or hear is Emmett’s misguided and blatant disregard for how guilty Vivian and Lily obviously look in all of this.
“You don’t think it’s at least worth it to talk to them about it?” I try again, my voice growing even more shrill.
“For what?” he grimaces. “They know Bernadette is missing. And if they did have anything to do with it, which I don’t think they do, they’re not going to just confess when we ask about it!”
Which is exactly why we should go to the police, I think to myself. But I don’t bother suggesting it to him again. He’s already refused the idea several times. I accept that it must be just another thing about their weird Elite world that I don’t understand, but the way he said the words still burns in my gut. As if I am some outsider who could never fully know his world. Not in the way Vivian does.
“I still think we should talk to them,” I persist fervently. “Even if they didn’t have anything to do with it, they’re our best possible place to start right now. And maybe it could lead to something else.”
“This isn’t some detective flick,” he snaps back callously. “They’re not going to have some magical piece of information that leads straight to her.”
“How the hell do you know?” I argue. “And how can you be so quick to rule them out when we have literally nothing else to go on?” He sits and stares off, completely unmoved by any of my arguments. “Let’s at least talk to Lily,” I add more softly, feeling like I’m only talking to myself at this point. “She hasn?
?t been over on the dark side for too long. Maybe I can get her to open up to me. Tell me anything she knows. Even if it’s just the last time they saw Bernadette.”
“It’s all in her diary,” he tells me, sounding frustrated.
“Unless they were the ones who kidnapped her. That entry wouldn’t have made it into her journal, obviously.” I roll my eyes and sink down onto the opposite edge of the bed, knowing it’s a useless argument. His mind is made up and he’s not budging no matter what I say, which only makes me more jealous of whatever his weird, lingering deal with Vivian is.
He disliked her enough to break up with her and seems to want to be with me instead, but he won’t tell her off when she gives me shit and he wouldn’t even dream of the possibility that she could have harmed his sister, even though he knows how brutal she can be! Suddenly, Vivian is some golden child who can do no wrong, and I’m becoming the monster for insisting anything different.
“I just don’t think we should rule them out,” I conclude quietly. “That’s all I’ll say about it for now.”
“Fine,” he grunts half-heartedly, just trying to appease me.
Bernadette’s room is feeling creepier by the minute. It’s too clean. Too still, quiet, and empty. And we’re still no closer to finding out what could have happened to her. I realize part of me thought she’d turn up again after a couple of days. Probably returning from some wild bender like the one Emmett and I claimed I was on when I disappeared. But the more time that passes, the less likely of a possibility that becomes.
Even if Emmett doesn’t want to go to the police, I wish I could bring myself to. She could be hurt or dead. And his fears are starting to feel heavier. We don’t know who’s behind this or why, so we have no way of knowing if they’re coming after him next. Our fathers have left a big target on our backs, especially Emmett’s. Nothing feels safe.
“Okay, okay,” he repeats urgently. “Let’s think. Let’s really think about this. What are the possibilities of what could have happened to her?”
My mind immediately goes to the worst conclusions, none of which seem like good ideas to mention. She could have been kidnapped, murdered, or any number of other things. Terrible things happen to people every day. But welcome to Jameson, where any time someone is hurt or killed, everyone knows it was calculated with a very clear motive.
“Well, obviously…Vivian has a motive,” I suggest lightly.
“Vivian was mad at Bernadette, but she was still trying to be her friend,” he repeats dismissively.
“Right…but why? Does that sound like Vivian to you?” I question. “Maybe she was just pretending to be her friend so she could pull something over on her.”
“You don’t know Vivian like I do,” he insists. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
I seethe inside at the paradox of that. Statements like that about Vivian are exactly what makes me distrust him.
“What about your father?” he asks suddenly, sending chills down my spine. I was already feeling uneasy. My father is the last person I want to think about.
“I told you I haven’t talked to him,” I remind him.
