Page 83 of Revenge At Raleigh High
The door rips open, throwing a pillar of golden light out into the dark and the snow, and my mind goes blank. The guy standing in the doorway isn’t Alex. Not even close. Zander Hawkins grins, arching an eyebrow down at me from inside the trailer. The black ACDC shirt he’s wearing has a small hole in the right sleeve, confirming that it’s one of Alex’s.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships,” he remarks.
“Don’t start,” I mutter. “Where’s Alex?”
“Y’know? Helen of Troy? ’Cause Paris sacrificed everything for her, ’cause she was so beautiful, and everyone went to war because of her. And—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’mHelen. Alex isParis.” I clench my jaw, trying to breathe deep. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. Now, please…tell me where he is.”
Zander shrugs, shoving a sandwich into his mouth and taking a bite. I didn’t even see that he was holding a sandwich to begin with. “How should I know?” he says, the words muffled around the contents of his mouth.
“Because you’re in his trailer. And you’re wearing his clothes?”
He swallows. “Ah, right. But it’s not his trailer anymore, is it. He packed up all his shit and moved out. It’s my trailer now. He gave it to me. And if he didn’t want the box of clothes he left sitting on the counter, then he should have taken them with him. S’all I have to say on the matter.”
“What?” A loud, high-pitched humming sound fills my head. It’s taking way longer than it should to process what he’s just told me. The only conclusion I can come to is that my ears couldn’t have heard correctly. “I’m sorry. Did you just say…Alex left?”
“Yeah. He said he wasn’t gonna need this place anymore, and since all of Caleb Weaving’s assets have been frozen and I can’t crash in his pool house anymore, I thought fuck it? Why not? I could use some more permanent digs. So here I am.”
I’d say Zander is a very unobservant person, but there’s something conniving about him. He’s being purposefully obtuse, and I can’t figure out why. He must be able to see that I am flat-out stunned right now. Maybe he’s trying to protect his friend. He was the one who rushed Nipper to the vet for Alex, when he and Dad came looking for me. He obviously cares a little about Alex. Or, perhaps he just doesn’t want to deal with a crying, wailing girl on his brand-new doorstep, ruining his one-man house warming party. Either way, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to address the fact that, as far as I’m aware, I am still Alex’s girlfriend, and I know nothing about the fact that he’s apparently upped and left town.
“I’d invite you in for a cup of tea, but I only have whiskey. And I’m not really into sharing whiskey, y’know. On account of it being so delicious,” Zander says airily. He maintains his entertained expression until I take a step backward down the stairs, my throat closing up, my eyes burning, and I cover my mouth with my hands.
“Oh, Jesus Christ. Look. All I know is that Alex was planning on heading over to see some guy in town called Henry about selling some mechanic’s tools before he took off. He only left an hour ago. If you hurry, you might catch him.”
Henry? Henry owns the hardware store on the high street. Dad’s rented tools from him before, when he’s only needed to use something once. I had no idea Henry bought used tools, though. Fuck, if Alex is selling all the stuff he uses to work on his bike and the Camaro, then he isn’t just leaving town temporarily. He’s leaving town for good.
I nearly puke into the snow as I stagger away from the trailer. Zander calls something behind me, but I don’t hear a word he says. Numb from the cold, numb from shock, I stand at the exit of the Salton Ash trailer park, waiting on my second Uber of the night, incapable of forming a thought that doesn’t make me want to burst into tears.
I get in the car when it arrives, grateful that it’s not the same guy as before. I stare at the back of the headrest, trying to come to terms with what’s happening; it feels like no time at all has passed when the driver stops in front of Harrison’s Home Hardware and Electrical Supplies.
I’m not in my right mind. It doesn’t even register that the place is in darkness until I’m standing in front of the doors to the store, and I see the ‘closed’ sign in front of me.
“Fuck.”
It’s nearly nine o’clock at night. Of course the place is closed. Amidst all of my panic and upset, I didn’t even consider the time. I just came over here, blindly acting without thought.
He’s gone. I’m too late. Alex has already left Raleigh.
Blinking back tears, I move to the corner of the street, shivering against the cold, my fingers so stiff that they barely work as I type out a message to Dad.
Me: Everything’s fine. I’m okay. Coming home now.
Defeat washes over me as I step to the curb, readying to call one final last ride for the night. The corner of High Street and Paulson is deserted, which isn’t unusual. The fresh snow is keeping people indoors, wrapped up warm in front of their fires. My finger’s hovering over the ‘Request Ride’ button on my phone’s screen, when I hear the sound behind me.
The hair on the back of my neck stands to immediate attention.
Jake…
It isn’t Jake.
It isn’t him.
It can’t be.
Jake’s on a prison ward, recovering from his gunshot wound.
Breathe, Silver.
