TEN

Callum’s mum drops us outside the school gate. Callum hugs me before we enter. It’s nice being close to him again. It’s weird that we kissed and now it’s like it didn’t happen. It would be wrong to continue anything now. Nothing has been said since that day. Our kissing, our fight – it’s as if it were all a dream. This whole thing with Sierra is bigger than us. Part of me wonders if that was our one chance, if we’ll never be able to talk about it now.

‘You ready?’

I nod, take a deep breath and walk through the gates towards the canteen.

Riley and Joel are already here. They’re swamped by students wanting to know details. Izzy’s there, too. She hugs me. Tears flow down her face.

‘I’m sorry, I’m just so worried.’ Her friends put their arms around her and sit her down. I’m overwhelmed and don’t know how to act.

Riley’s a stone-faced ice queen.

Joel is protective. ‘Guys, we don’t know anything more than you. Give the girls some space.’ He fobs everyone off and they back away a little bit – but remain close enough to hear our every word.

Callum brings his chair close to mine and blocks me from the stares of the crowd.

‘You okay?’ The way he asks is intimate, like we are a couple. I smell his cologne. Our legs press together. We’re close, but at the same time we’re not.

I nod.

‘Everyone’s staring at us,’ I whisper, as I pan the canteen. They don’t look away. Their curiosity is greater than their manners. They don’t care that they’re being rude.

‘I don’t know about this. How are we going to sit in class and concentrate on anything?’ I say to Callum.

‘If you can’t do it, we’ll go home. I’ll call Mum and she’ll come and get us. Then we’ll try again tomorrow,’ he says. He’s acting on his mum’s advice. I see that now.

The announcement bell sounds.

‘All students please make their way to the assembly hall.’

It’s the principal on the PA. Heaviness settles in my shoulders and restricts my chest. This is about Sierra. Everyone knows it and silently makes their way down the corridor. There’s no laughter, no squealing, just the murmur of low voices and the shuffle of people’s feet on lino; an eerie, unnatural sound.

The principal stands up the front. Next to him, I see our school counsellor and also Kel. The teachers take a seat along the side wall. Once everyone is seated, the principal speaks.

‘Good morning teachers and students.’ He pauses for a moment and looks around the hall. ‘I say “good morning”, but so far it hasn’t been … I’m sure many of you already know that one of our students, Sierra Carson-Mills, has gone missing. The full story surrounding Sierra’s disappearance is still coming together, but what we do know is that Sierra went to meet someone in the city on Friday after school and has not been seen since. Police are investigating the matter. Senior Detective Parkinson is here and would like to say a few words so please give him your full attention.’

Kel steps towards the microphone. He’s tall and has to bend his neck awkwardly. The principal steps in and raises the height of the microphone.

‘Hello. My name is Senior Detective Parkinson and I am investigating the disappearance of your fellow student, Sierra.’ He clears his throat. ‘Police hold grave concerns for Sierra’s welfare. We have security camera footage of her outside Hummingbird Cupcakes at City Mall at five o’clock on Friday afternoon talking to a guy. They then walked away together and Sierra has not been seen since. I am leaving my phone number with your principal. If anyone has any information about Sierra, the man she was meeting or her current whereabouts, we would like to speak to you. Even if you don’t think the information is important, please tell us anyway. It may be the missing piece that gives us a lead. Thank you.’

They obviously have no idea where she is, or who Jacob Jones really is.

The school counsellor steps in front of the microphone. I’m not really focusing on what she’s saying, but I catch her talking about how important it is for us to speak to her if we need to. She tells us she will be visiting each class throughout the day and will be available at any time to talk with us individually.

I’m not sure how many kids will want to talk to her. Mum made me go to a counsellor after Dad died. At first it felt like it was just drawing out the pain I was feeling. It took me ages to actually believe Janelle might be able to help.

After assembly, the day goes by in much the same way as the morning did: people staring and talking, asking questions when I have no answers.

When I get home after school, I get a call from a police officer offering counselling services. I decline the offer and hang up. It took me long enough to trust Janelle. I think I do want to speak to someone, but I don’t want to see someone new.

Mum went back to work today, but she isn’t home yet – she’s visiting Rachel. I didn’t go. I know Rachel still won’t want me around, but even if she doesn’t think the blame is right, I know Mum will stand beside Rachel – even if it has to be at a distance for a while – just like Rachel did for her when Dad died.

When Mum does come home, she tells me that there’s a lot of strain between Rachel and Dave, Sierra’s dad. Apparently, as well as blaming me, Rachel is blaming herself and Dave. She told Mum that they weren’t around enough to know what was really going on in Sierra’s life. She said there were warning signs, but they were too wrapped up in getting over to America, concentrating on the business and not addressing Sierra’s issues.

I’m not sure what ‘issues’ or ‘warning signs’ she’s talking about … Sending the boob photo maybe? But I was there when she sent it! The guys asked to see our boobs, like they always do. Sierra laughed and said, ‘Let’s give these dudes an eyeful,’ put the phone down her top and then sent the picture without a second thought. We both laughed. It seems stupid now, but at the time it was just funny. We sent the photo, disconnected, and never heard from them again.

I think Rachel’s looking for something that isn’t there. She wants an answer or an explanation, but there isn’t one.

I’ve borrowed a computer from school so I don’t have to use Mum’s old slow one. After dinner, I bring it into the lounge room and sit on the couch. I log on and go into my email, to the two photos Jacob Jones sent. I study each one. They are so well done. And he was so clever with the timing of his second one. I wonder what photos he sent Sierra. I search Cabe Osric’s website. I flick through each one. So many Australian places. Cities, country fields, outback landscapes. Beautiful beaches, stunning sunsets, stormy skies. Australian icons, flags, faces.

I sit the computer on the coffee table and stare at the ceiling. I think of what Jacob Jones has done to us and I feel so violated. But I have no right. Not while I’m lying on my couch, in my living room, safe. Pain burns inside me like indigestion. It’s relentless.

I glance back to my computer.

Jacob Jones found us online. Maybe I can find him.