I couldn’t help feeling she needed me somehow.
Emma came in for our lunch date frustrated, but I tried to ignore it and focus on the music. Emma didn’t bite. Her moves were sloppy, she missed a bar of choreography, and when I stopped to go over things slowly, she rolled her eyes at me. A bit rude, right? Not that I want to be a jerk about it. All I said was “What’s going on with you?”
I didn’t think I asked it like a snot or a . . . you know . . . bitch. But she couldn’t take it. She stormed out, without her bag or any of her gear. I grabbed her backpack and rushed after her, spotting her as she streaked down the hallway toward the front doors.
I had her stuff and my stuff, so I was a little weighed down, but I am the cheer captain, and physical activity is kind of my specialty. I caught up to Emma in the parking lot. “You forgot your backpack,” I puffed.
Emma turned. Tears ran down her face in a river. I dropped my bags and leaned in, wrapping my arms around her. “What’s going on?” I asked again.
“I had a meeting with Mr. Garson today.” She sniffed and I dug around in my pocket for a tissue. You know Mr. Garson, right? He’s killer. He’s our co-coach and the head coach for the lacrosse team. I twisted my knee last year and Mom said I shouldn’t compete for the rest of the semester. But Mr. G helped me rehabilitate and got me back on the floor in four weeks. He’s the student counselor, too—he’s so easy to talk to, you sort of forget you’re talking to an adult. He gets us the help we need, and Emma had been seeing him twice a week since her, um, Lizzy outburst. “He said I should think about alternative options if I didn’t get the Devino Scholarship.”
My heart sank for my friend. “Does he think Gwen’s ahead in the game?”
“I don’t know. He said he couldn’t talk about other students, that this was our time to devote to me and my future. He’s talking about options and after-school jobs. He asked if I had a college fund.” Her face screwed up again.
Emma’s home life was really private, but my dad is kinda friends with her dad, so I pick a few things up. I knew there was no college fund. I knew there was no job. Emma’s dad has refused her both. The Devino Fund was basically her only chance to go to college.
I don’t think her dad wanted her to leave.
I searched for something encouraging to say. “Your grades are great, and the competition’s only a few weeks away. I’ll help you. We’ll get the team to the regional finals. That can help you too.” Even as I said it, I felt a little guilty. Because Emma winning the scholarship would mean that Gwen would be the one stuck in Lorne. Gwen’s not my friend like Emma is, but I don’t like doing things that hurt other people. I’m not that kind of girl.
“What if it’s not enough? I’m not going to be trapped in this stupid town for the rest of my life. Coming to lacrosse games because there’s nothing better to do. Waiting for Main Street to flood every spring, so we literally can’t get out. Dying of boredom or alcoholism or—” She choked.
I hugged her again. She trembled against me, rigid with fear. At the time I thought it was all about the Devino Scholarship, the prospect of staying in Lorne forever. But maybe it was something different.
She might have told me, if Heather Halifax hadn’t strolled by with her best friend, Holden. “What’s up with you two?” she asked curiously.
“We’re fine,” I said.
Maybe I said it a little sharply, because Heather held up her hands in defense. “All right, I’ll stay out of your business.” She smiled at me, but it seemed suspicious. People like to think I’m sleeping with half the cheer team because I’m bi.
“We’ll get you out of this,” I said to Emma when Heather and Holden were gone, and I meant it. Maybe Emma saw that I did. She smiled, and, sir, I’m an expert on fake smiles. This one was real.
There was a party last night, but I’m sure Emma wasn’t there. Her dad didn’t let her go to any parties because there might be alcohol or weed or boys. Even after cheer competitions, he’d pick her right up from wherever the meet was and drive her home. She never hung out with us when we went to the Morning House or got coffee, which meant that while all the girls were becoming better friends, she was sort of stuck on the outside.
She said once that she wished she could join us at the Morning House after practice. I offered to drive her home early, before her dad got off shift. She said he’d know anyway. She said he even kept cameras in the house to make sure she didn’t sneak out after bedtime.
CLINE: Cameras?
AVERY: Oh. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry. Can we, like, strike it from the record or something? He’s the police chief, so I’m sure he had his reasons. Maybe that’s standard police officer protocol, what would I know? I really don’t want it getting back to him, and like I said, my dad and her dad are kind of buddy-buddy.
Honestly, if you find any clues at all, they’ll be in her diary. I told you about her diary, right? She wrote in it all the time, and since it was by hand, it’s not like anyone can spy on that. It would be the one place that Emma had freedom from everything. From everyone in her life, even herself.
And if she had something in that diary that she didn’t want her dad reading, she wouldn’t keep it at home. She’d stash it here. Did you check her locker?
CLINE: We are looking into all aspects of this case. Thank you for taking the time, Miss Cross.
AVERY: I know it’s stupid. Of course you’ve checked her locker. I’m not the detective here. But she didn’t just have the one locker—you know that, right? Just want to be as helpful as possible. She had her own locker for gym, for one thing. Oh, and she also had a desk at the high school paper. The diary has to be in one of those places.
Diary Entry
Emma Baines—September 21, 2017
Diary, if I don’t come to school tomorrow, I hope the police ransack my stuff and find you. And when they do, they’ll flip to this page. POLICE: MY DAD DID IT. HE KILLED ME AND HE BURIED MY BODY SOMEWHERE YOU’LL NEVER FIND.
Oh, who am I kidding. Dad is the police. Dad, if you end up reading this:
Ugh. I don’t even know what to say.
The problem is, the cheer squad doesn’t get it. They’re all “Everyone’s parents are overprotective, Emma.” Avery goes on about how her mom measures her weight each day, and okay, like, that probably does suck, but dammit, Avery Cross, I still have a freaking baby monitor and nanny cam in my room. Dad saw me get up at two in the morning and work on my APCoGo paper. And then he TOLD ME OFF for it over breakfast.
He dropped the bomb after that. He said, “I’ve changed my mind about the Devino Scholarship.”
I almost choked on my cornflakes. “What?” Mom and Dad hardly agreed about anything, as far as I could remember, but the one thing they were united about was my studies. I should always devote myself to my studies. Of course, as soon as Mom left town with a trucker, she stopped giving a shit about my studies. She hasn’t called in the last three years. So I guess it was only Dad who really cared. Well, not anymore.
“You need to stay in Lorne. I’ll get you a job at the station after school. We can always use another dispatcher and assistant in the office, and if you do well we can send you to the academy in Fort Collins.”