twenty-three

So much had happened. And so little had changed.

It had been more than two decades since Caroline had attended Blackstone-Millville Regional High School. Okay, everything seemed a little smaller and a little dingier than she remembered, but other than that, everything was the same. Same color schemes. Same fluorescent lighting. Same industrial smell. The brick appeared a little less red. The sidewalk appeared a little more cracked, but so much just seemed frozen in time. Even the trees in the courtyard: short, thin, frail-looking things, were exactly the same as she remembered.

“They must be so depressed by all the gray concrete that they don’t grow,” Caroline said.

“What?” Emily asked.

“Never mind.”

Four women sat behind the counter inside the school’s office. Each stood and greeted Emily by name. Each inquired about Jane, Jack, and Randy.

“We need to chat with Jane for a couple minutes, if that’s okay,” Emily said, directing her comment to the woman closest to the counter.

“Sure. Let me just see where she is,” the woman said.

“No need,” Emily said, waving the woman off. “She’s at lunch. I checked before we drove over.”

“Oh, okay then. You know where that is.”

“Yes, we do,” Emily said. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Caroline Jacobs. She a BMR alum, too.”

“Is Jacobs your maiden name?” one of the older women near the back of the office asked.

“No. I was Caroline Waters when I went here.”

At the mention of Caroline’s maiden name, the woman’s face changed. Her eyes widened ever so slightly. Her head tilted to the side. Her lips grew thin. Caroline knew this look well. It was the You’re the sister of the dead girl look. “Caroline Waters,” the woman said. “I remember you.”

“That was a long time ago. You have a good memory.”

The woman smiled. “You sit here long enough, you get a brain for names and faces.”

“I’m sure,” Caroline said.

After signing in and placing a visitor sticker on her shirt (Emily stuck hers on the thigh of her jeans, which felt like the cool thing to do), they made their way to the cafeteria on the other side of the school.

They took the stairs to the first floor and crossed through the lobby where the school’s glass trophy case was positioned between the doors to the auditorium. Caroline stopped to look. Trophies and plaques with names of people she once knew were still standing among dozens of others, somehow collecting dust in the sealed glass case. The marching band’s NESBA championship in 1986. The plaque commemorating the cross-country team’s national record for most consecutive victories. A photo of the school’s only Division C championship basketball team, led by team captain and point guard Randy Labonte.

He looked so young back then. They all did.

The sounds of the cafeteria hadn’t changed in a quarter century, either. A hum of excitement filled the room, punctuated by the occasional laugh, shout, or clattering of a lunch tray striking the floor. Even the smells were the same. The strangely sweet combination of floor wax, spoiled milk, and too many teenaged bodies in too small a space brought Caroline right back to her high school days.

The tables and attached stools appeared unchanged as well. They were the same ones that she had sat on as a kid, or at least an identical set. Those goddamn orange disks.

A woman stepped over to where Caroline and Emily were standing in the doorway. “Can I help you?” She was a teacher, Caroline knew, but also young. Fresh out of college. She couldn’t remember a teacher ever looking this young when she was in high school.

“Yes,” Emily said. “I’m here to speak to my daughter for a second. Nancy in the office said I could come down.”

“Oh. Okay, do you know where she sits during lunch?”

“No,” Emily said. “Want me to just look around?”

“Who’s your daughter?”

“Jane Labonte,” Emily said.

“Oh, Jane!” the woman said. “I know where she sits. I’m Ms. Bennett, Jane’s English teacher from last year.” She reached out and shook Emily’ hand. “Such a wonderful daughter you have.”

Emily smiled. “Ms. Bennett. Sorry, I should’ve recognized you. Jane adored your class. Could you show me where she’s sitting? We’re in kind of a rush. Something important.”

“Of course. Jane’s in the middle. Over there.”

Caroline followed the woman’s hand and spotted Jane, about twenty feet from where she and Emily had once sat together.

“I’ll just send her over here, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great,” Emily said.

Ms. Bennett turned and headed in the direction of Jane and her friends.

“It’s kind of unbelievable that we’re standing here in the cafeteria again. Considering the circumstances.”

“Tell me about it,” Caroline said and smiled. “If Ellie was here, this could be an episode of The Twilight Zone.”

Jane looked up, saw her mother at the doorway, and smiled. Waved. Stood up and walked over with an actual skip in her step. Caroline had to give Emily credit. Had she showed up at Polly’s school during lunch, a smile and a wave would be the last things she would expect from her daughter.

“Mom,” Jane said. “Is everything okay?” She was avoiding eye contact with Caroline.

“Everything’s fine, honey.”

“Everything’s fine?” Caroline asked.

“Sorry,” Emily said, turning to Caroline. “You know what I mean.” Then she turned back to Jane. “Listen, Polly is missing. She didn’t go home last night after the dinner, and we’re just wondering if you might know where she went?”

“Me? Why would I know where she went?”

“Not that you’d know,” Caroline said. “But Polly doesn’t know Blackstone well, so we were wondering if you might’ve mentioned a place where she could’ve gone last night. A place where kids hang out nowadays?”

“No,” Jane said. “Nothing like that.”

“Did she meet anyone when you took her to The Spot?” Caroline asked. “Someone she could’ve called last night when she needed a place to stay?”

“No. I saw a couple of my friends there, and I introduced her to them, but it’s not like they exchanged phone numbers or anything. Besides, I was in class with Jenny and Samantha last period. I think they would’ve said something if Polly showed up at their door last night.”

“Can you just think for a minute,” Caroline said. “Was there anything you said that might’ve given her an idea about where to go last night? Anything at all?”

Jane was silent for a moment. Caroline gave the girl credit. She had the right to act like a bitch but seemed to be genuinely trying to help. “Nothing that I can think of,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Honestly. We just talked about school and stuff.”

“Okay,” Emily said. “Thanks for trying.”

“Sure,” Jane said. “I’d better get back. Lunch is over in a couple minutes.” She turned to head back to her table and then turned back, directing her attention at Caroline. “I think it was awful what you did to my mom last night, but I hope you find her. And I’m sure she’s okay.”

“Why’s that?” Caroline said.

“Polly’s tough,” Jane said. “She could probably live in the woods for a month, eating squirrels and drinking from puddles, and it wouldn’t faze her. She probably didn’t come home last night just to spite you.”

Caroline smiled. “You sound like you have some experience with this kind of thing.”

“No, I wouldn’t have the guts to do something like that. But Polly does.”

Ten minutes later they were climbing back into Caroline’s car. “So now what?” Emily said.

Caroline sighed. “I hope Jane’s right. It’s funny. I should probably be more worried than I am, but I guess I sort of agree with her. For all her faults, Polly’s tough as nails.”

“Is this something Polly would do?” Emily asked. “Stay out all night just to worry you?”

“She’s never done it before, but yeah. I could see that.”

“So?”

Caroline shrugged. “I guess I go back to my mother’s house and wait.”

“Do you want me to go with you? Keep you company?”

“You don’t have to do that. Tom’s here. He showed up last night.”

“Your husband?” Emily asked.

“Yeah. He got worried. I wasn’t returning calls. And I sort of disappeared without warning.”

“Like mother, like daughter.”

Caroline smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. But thanks for the offer.”

“Sure. It’s strange. Huh?”

“What?”

“All this,” Emily said. “I feel like I want to hug you and kill you in the same second.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

An open palm struck the Caroline’s passenger side window, causing her to jump. She turned. It was Jane, staring wide-eyed.

“Sorry,” she shouted through the glass.

Caroline lowered the window.

“Sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that I thought of something.”

“What?” Caroline asked.

“We did talk about a place. Not exactly a hangout, but it might be worth a try.”