Page 69 of Someone Just Followed You

Chapter 79

Him

He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror.

Carpe diem. That’s what people say at times like this. Or maybe fortune favors the bold. Who dares wins. It’s now or never.

He should have a shower first though. Sort himself out.

He pulls his T-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. His bathroom is more like a closet, but there’s a toilet and tiny sink, plus a shower unit with enough hot water for him. He unzips his jeans, removes his boxer shorts, and steps naked under the measly jets of spray.

Then he closes his eyes and conjures up Maple. That first time he saw her in the flesh, she was all dressed up. Makeup, fancy clothes. Posing in a glass box in the sky, of all the crazy ways to meet. He doubts she’ll be looking that way now; she’ll be tired, pensive, scared maybe. And that thought causes some undefinable emotion to hollow out his chest.

He uses soap, then watches the grimy water circle down through the plughole. He gets a certain satisfaction from it, but it doesn’t make him feel clean. Except he knows from experience not to expect that. Not after the things he’s done in his life.

But there’s no point dwelling on those. Not now he has Maple to think about.

He gets out of the shower and rubs himself dry. But as he stares at his face in the cracked mirror, he senses it’s not enough, so he strides into his bedroom, finds his old pair of clippers at the bottom of the closet, then goes back to the mirror. Ten minutes later, the beard has gone and the hair that reached his jawline has been replaced with a neat buzz cut. He finds a clean shirt – fucking miracle of miracles – and a pair of jeans that aren’t stinking or stained and puts them on. From the outside he looks like a new man.

He heads out of the trailer and fires up his truck. He’s ready.

Chapter 80

Maple

@7Harts<3, TikTok

We just want to put on public record that we are devastated for the Clark family about this terrible news. No parent should have to go through losing a daughter, even temporarily. We will hold Maple in our prayers until she’s safely back home. God bless you all #findMaple

The bus driver pulls up against the sidewalk and shouts that it’s the downtown stop, so I grab my things and head off the bus. I should probably feel sick with nerves right now, four hundred miles from home, my best friend thinking my life’s in danger. But actually, I feel excited. I just might find Ella Hart today.

I can see the Bonneville Transit Center across the street. It’s bright and modern, with lots of glass and angled roofs like sails. It gives me a good feeling, like nothing bad could happen in there. I wait for the Walk sign to appear – no point taking any unnecessary risks – then cross over and head inside.

It’s busy, and as I walk to the seating area under the clock, like Brandon told me to, I start wishing I’d asked what he looks like. I knew he’d recognize me, and I guess I thought that would be enough for us to find each other. I reach the red plastic chairs, but I’m done with sitting down today, so I lean against a pillar and scan the space instead.

I see a man looking over at me. He’s younger than I imagined Brandon to be, early twenties, but then Brandon never told me his age, so I don’t know why I assumed that. I smile at him, but it’s like it jolts him out of a daydream, because instead of smiling back, he looks embarrassed for a moment then turns his head away.

‘Maple?’

I twist around. ‘Oh, hi.’

‘I’m Brandon,’ a man says. He’s wearing jeans, a light blue shirt, and a Las Vegas Raiders cap. I was right about him being older than the other guy, but his eyes are bright, and he looks what Mom would call well groomed. I give myself an internal high-five for reading this right. ‘And I’m going to take you to Ella,’ he adds.

‘Thank you,’ I murmur. I smile at him, and he smiles back. ‘And thanks for finding her too.’

He shrugs, almost apologetically. ‘We drink in the same bar, so I got lucky, I guess. I’m just really happy I can help.’

‘And you have her address too?’

He nods, then looks at the clock on the wall. ‘Listen, could we talk about this on the way? The neighborhood she’s living in isn’t exactly friendly. The earlier we get to her, the safer it will be.’

My stomach flips. Except what I was expecting? A penthouse apartment in Spanish Hills? ‘Yeah, sure,’ I mumble. ‘But I might just message my friend first; tell her I’ve arrived.’ I know I’m not being fair on Coco, that by messaging her, I’m making her part of this, the one thing I promised not to do. But she’s the only person who knows I’m meeting Brandon, and now I’m here, I realize I need that lifeline.

His smile fades. ‘Your friend?’

‘Yeah, Coco. She was a bit stressed about me meeting a stranger by myself, so I promised to message her heaps.’

I wonder if he’ll take offence, but the smile is back now. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Coco sounds like a good friend. But would you mind doing it once we’re on the move? I’m a little nervous about leaving things too late. For you more than me, with you being a girl, and famous.’