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She smirks. “I have my ways.”
“You’re making this shit up, and it stops now or I’ll start spreading rumors about you.”
“Like what?” She smiles, knowing I wouldn’t do it. I hate gossip, especially shit that isn’t true.
“Just stop talking about her. That’s all I’m asking.” I walk away and hear her talking.
“She goes to Larkmont. If you don’t believe me, go there and see for yourself.”
Larkmont. That’s where Nova said she went to school. I couldn’t remember the name until Paris said it. When I get to class, I look it up on my phone. It says it’s a school for teens with life challenges, like pregnancy or drug abuse. Nova isn’t pregnant or on drugs, so why would she go there? Did she really get arrested? For what?
That afternoon, I skip my last class so I can get to Nova’s school right before it lets out. I’m also skipping hockey practice again. I told Coach I’m still not feeling well. He’ll probably call my parents and tell them to take me to a doctor.
I’ve driven past Larkmont High on my way to the skating rink but didn’t know it was for teens who had issues. I thought it was some kind of magnet school. Nova never talked about it, and when I asked her about school, she’d change the subject. Now I know why.
As classes get out, students pour of the building. A lot of them aren’t wearing coats even though it’s freezing out. A guy passes me wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his face covered in piercings, tattoos running down both arms.
“Hey!” I run after him. “Do you know Nova Morris?”
He looks me up and down, noticing my black wool coat, which is unbuttoned enough to show my tie and dress shirt. I should’ve changed out of my uniform before I got here.
“You a cop?” the guy says.
“No. Nova’s a friend. I need to talk to her.”
“Don’t know her,” he says, walking off.
Why would he think I’m a cop? I’m not in a cop uniform.
I notice a girl heading this way, with blue hair and a nose ring, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, a short black skirt, and black boots. She’s staring at her phone as I race up to her.
“Hey, do you know Nova Morris?”
She glances up from her phone. “Yeah. Why?”
“Have you seen her?”
“Not today.” The girl looks back at her phone and keeps walking.
“You looking for Nova?” a girl says from behind me. She has short black hair with a streak of pink.
“Yeah, have you seen her?”
“Not today.” The girl stops in front of me. “Aren’t you the guy who keeps dropping her off at her apartment?”
“Yeah, but I heard she moved.”
“Did she?” The girl shrugs. “I didn’t notice she’s been gone. I live there too. I’m on the second floor. I’ve seen you in the parking lot.” She looks me up and down. “Did you just get back from a funeral?”
“No, this is my uniform. I go to private school. So anyway, do you have any idea where Nova might’ve moved to?”
“I don’t, but if I had to guess, I’d say the apartments down the street. They just lowered the rent to get people to move there. My neighbor’s thinking of going there, but he hasn’t decided. It’s not as nice as where we live now.”
She thinks that place is nice? I think it needs to be torn down. The walls are cracked, there’s mold everywhere, and the ceiling is stained from water damage.
“Did you see Nova at all this week?” I ask.
“No, but I usually don’t. We don’t have any classes together, and I only go here in the afternoon. I’m doing this program where I get school credit for working.”
