When we step into Winston's, neon-colored Sticky Notes catches Dad's eye. Thank you, Universe. I stalk each aisle, looking for a fourteen-year-old. If she's in the storage area I'll have to ask for her, but I hope to draw as little attention as possible. Up and down, past the highlighters and gel pens. Then I see a dark blonde in a red smock. Her hair is high in a ponytail. She wears a black tee, denim shorts, and scuffed, white sneakers. Her arms and legs are so tan, she almost looks black. She's counting sticks of glue and checking something off on a clipboard.
I walk straight up to her. "Hi."
At first she looks annoyed, like maybe I messed up her counting. Then she turns a programmed smile my way. "Can I help you?"
"You're April, right?"
She looks me up and down before giving one nod. "Do I know you?"
"No, I'm Piper. I just moved to town, but I met Linzy before she died."
April stiffens at the mention of Linzy's name. "Okay."
"Yeah, well, she said you were one of the people who hated her, and when she turned up dead, I thought of you." I display a wide grin, hoping to take the sting out of my words. Yes, I'm aware I just stuck my foot in my mouth, but what choice do I have? Dad will find me in about three-point-five minutes, so time is limited. Plus, April's obviously not going to volunteer her secrets to a stranger. My strategy is to piss her off enough so she'll blurt out something incriminating.
She crinkles her brow. "Are you insane? I didn't hate Linzy. She was my best friend."
I stare into her clear, albeit angry, brown eyes. "You don't look broken up over her."
Her face turns deadpan. "Who are you to…"
"I'm sorry. I know I'm not being polite or delicate about the situation. Honestly, if you knew the truth you'd think I was crazier than you do right now. I'm just trying to figure out what happened to Linzy."
"Why?"
"I'm the one who found her body. So let's just say she's been haunting me ever since."
April glances over her shoulder then says, "What do you want?"
"To know why you turned on your best friend."
"I didn't. She…" She glares. "It's none of your business."
Yeah, this is going great.
"Maybe not, but if she really was your BFF then you'd want the person who killed her punished, right?"
Her eyes widen. "She was killed?"
Shoot. That might not be public knowledge yet.
I try to cover up my loose tongue. "I mean, I assume that's how she ended up in the river, but I hope it's something else. Like she slipped and hit her head on a rock." I need to learn how to keep my rambling to a minimum.
April nods. "Yeah."
"Sorry. Look, I wish I had more tact, but I really need to know why you and Linzy were on the outs."
"It doesn't matter now. Leave me alone." She hurries to the back of the store.
I totally messed that up. Was I really expecting miracles though? Nothing is going my way.
"Piper, you almost ready?" Dad calls from the next aisle.
I look up, see the sign for notebooks, run toward one with a pink cover, and snatch it off the shelf. "Ready, Dad."
When we're at the register, he picks it up and examines the front and back. "You wanted a diary?"
I'm scoping the area for April, hoping she changed her mind and wants to talk. "What?"
Dad waves something in my face. "Since when do you journal?"
I stare at the front of the book. It's pink, white, and black plaid with a raised badge that has Diary stitched on it. "Um, since we moved to Disturbia."
* * *
When Dad pulls into the driveway, I notice Kinley sitting on our steps. I must sigh a bit too heavy because Dad asks, "Something wrong?"
I shrug and stare at the bag in my lap.
"Wanna quickly talk about it?"
Not really, but I also don't want to screw up this relationship. "Remember when Andrea stopped talking to me?"
"How can I forget? You cried and moped around the house for a week."
Great way to word it, Dad.
"She said she didn't want to hang with me because I was texting and calling all the time."
"That can get overwhelming."
"So I just need to be less pushy, right?"
He squeezes my shoulder. "Just be yourself."
I hate when adults say that. They make it sound so easy. What if you don't know who you are yet?
We get out of the car. Dad greets Kinley and goes inside. I join her on the steps.
"What'd you get?" she asks, nodding to my bag.
"A journal."
She nods then looks off.
I stare at the Quinn house and allow my thoughts to drift. Anything to avoid this conversation. I wonder if the Quinns are curled up in a ball crying on their beds. I would be. Did I cry a lot when Vincent died? Did I understand I'd never see my brother again, never play Hide-n-Seek or gurgle chocolate milk through a straw with him?
"I'm glad the news crews are gone," Kinley says.
I've been so preoccupied, I hadn't noticed. "Yeah, me too. I couldn't even step outside."
"Not that you want to in this heat, huh?" She gives a half-laugh.
The awkwardness is killing us both.
I want to explain myself about Eli and totally clear the air, but I'm afraid I'll sound desperate. "I…uh, don't like Eli. He's all yours." That sounds stupid, like I'm handing him over 'cause he's mine to give.
She sighs. "I don't want to talk about that. I came over to let you know that my parents are sending me to camp."
What? No. This can't happen.
"I thought you were going to convince them it wasn't a good idea."
"I tried, but with Linzy's death, they feel it's best if I don't stick around here all summer."
I can't believe it. It doesn't matter if I screw up this friendship or not, I'll still be alone. "Do you want to go?"
She shrugs, completely nonchalant about the whole thing. "It might be nice. There's swimming and canoeing and all kinds of activities."
"But what about…" Me. I desperately want to finish my sentence, but I don't want to sound selfish. I stare at my toes. The polish is starting to wear off every nail but the big ones.
Either she knows what I was going to ask and doesn't want to answer or doesn't care enough to find out, because we sit in silence. If she wants to go then my telling her to stay is pushy. But I don't want her to go. Darn. This sucks. It's too hard.
"Well, I hope you have a great time." What else can I say?
"Thanks." She stands up. "I should get inside. It's hot and… Well, bye."
She steps down onto the walkway, and I jump up. "Wait. When are you leaving?"
"Not until the fifteenth."
"That's over a week away." Don't forget your cool, Piper. "So maybe we can hang before then?"
She squints into the sun. "Sure." Her voice wavers. "I'll text ya."
There's a boulder in my throat restricting swallowing. "Okay."
As she walks home, I can't help but wonder if I just lost the best friend I'll ever have.
* * *
It's not until I relax in bed, the air conditioner allowing me to snuggle under my comforter, and my eyes drift shut that Linzy's voice sounds in my ear.
"Whatcha doin'?"
She lies beside me, on her side, her head propped up on her hand.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I answer.
She extends her arm and lays her head on it. "I'm bored."
"I bet if you don't cough up what happened to you, you'll have an eternity of boredom." I yawn, not really wanting to have this conversation, but if I can gain some insight I'll pull an all-nighter.
She rolls her eyes and makes a dramatic sound in the back of her throat. "Will you let it go already? You're such a drag."
"Eli said he pushed you. Was that all, or did he hurt you? Maybe you met him at the park that night." It makes sense. He's obviously familiar enough with this neighborhood to know the park exists.
She laughs. "Him? He's too much a dweeb to hurt anyone."
I sit up. "If you believe that, then why try to kill him? Why are you so angry, and why say he could've killed you?"
She presses her lips together, as if she can't trust them not to open and whisper her secrets.
This is not the way ghosts are supposed to behave. They should either scare and haunt or try to move on. Linzy acts as if this is just a regular day.
"Look, did Eli kill you? Do you know who did?"
She stares up at the ceiling then looks to my windows and down to her feet. She may as well start whistling or stick her fingers in her ears and sing, "la-la-la-la."
"Linzy," I shout then bite my lower lip. "If you're not going to answer me, I won't help you get to your other…friends."
She sighs. "How do you even know I was killed? I never said that."
I can't tell what she knows and believes, and I'm too tired to play games. "Because your parents had your autopsy rushed. You were suffocated to death."
She places a hand at her throat, cupping her choker. She gives me a sad, pitiful look then disappears.
I lay back down and stare at the space she occupied, waiting for her to return. She'll eventually get tired of not answering my questions. She'll tell me sooner or later. Right? And even if she doesn't, I'll figure it out. That I can guarantee.
I roll onto my back. My eye lids are heavy. I want to stay awake and wait, but she may not return tonight.
I lay my hand in her spot, just in case.