Saturday Afternoon, Continued
My heart thumped when I stepped inside my room. My red comforter had been torn off the bed, and the mattress upended. My dresser drawers were dumped in the middle of the room, along with the contents of my desk and nightstand.
My favorite photo—one of me standing with Paisley, Benji, and Gin at the Winter Formal last year—was on the floor of the doorway, and the glass covering the frame was broken like it had been stomped on. A photo of Sarah, Paisley, and me during the gun safety course was torn into pieces and sprinkled on top.
But that wasn’t what made me stop and stand still. I wanted to turn around and run and find Alex and beat his head in.
“Can you tell if anything was stolen?” Detective Parker asked from behind me.
“I think my laptop is missing. It was on the desk when I left. I’m going to need to go through everything before I can say if anything else is gone,” I said. I worked my way around a mound of lingerie, which was next to pile of books. The covers were torn off. I picked up the book on the top of the pile, which had been torn in half, with the remnants of the cover stacked on top. The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. My grandmother had given it to me, and we’d read it together the summer before she died of cancer.
Alex was going to pay for this. Slowly. Painfully.
“The rest of the house isn’t as ransacked as your room. Any ideas why?”
I didn’t look at the detective as I shook my head.
“No drugs?” His voice was quiet, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear. Should I encourage him to go that direction? Let him think I was into all sorts of nasty stuff. After all, my brother had been on his way to being hooked on cocaine at my age.
I turned around and looked him in the eyes. “Like I told you before, I don’t do drugs,” I said. “We’re tested for sports at school. Feel free to check.” My eyes strayed over to the pile of soccer trophies by my desk. Broken soccer figures from the trophies littered the floor.
“You sure you don’t know anything about this?”
Cool gray eyes appraised me, and I studied him in return. He was hesitant to believe me. But why should he trust me? In the same situation, would I trust myself? It’s not like I was trustworthy. I did know what had happened. But if I told, I’d get more than Alex in trouble. I’d take poor Paisley as well as Gin and Benji down with me.
“Maybe it was some freak who gets off on teen girl’s bedrooms. Maybe he thought he’d find the good stuff in here. But if you’re wondering about drug connections, check out my mother’s bathroom. The medicine cabinet is locked, and that’s where she keeps her Valium. There, and in her purse. Her doctor prescribes it.”
“You just go right for the jugular, don’t you?” He sounded slightly amused, like I was a puppy trying to do a big dog trick.
“People always skirt around serious issues. Why bother?” I turned away from him, and viewed the pile of destroyed birthday cards from friends, and ripped up homework in yet another pile, which I stepped over to peer into my closet. Everything was off the hangers, and something had been poured over the whole mess of fabric. I leaned down and sniffed. Beer? Probably the Belgian stuff my dad keeps in the fridge in the garage. But the scent of beer wasn’t my biggest problem. This was my brother Daniel all over again. Multiple versions of what could be the truth were popping up, and I couldn’t push everyone toward the right one. I felt powerless.
My pulse felt like I’d just sprinted down the length of the soccer field. We’d agreed: we wouldn’t steal from each other.
But it’s not like Alex had been playing by the rules for days now.
So why should I?
Alex’s words echoed through my mind. Hope you like my present. I glanced around the destruction of my room. Was this the present? Or had Alex hidden something amongst the piles? Like a grenade.
“You look thoughtful.” The detective’s words invaded my thoughts. He was still observing me like I was a rat in an experiment.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Should I look excited someone trashed my room? I’m just debating how to clean this up.” Maybe I should just confess. Tell the detective everything.
A deep voice spoke from the doorway, causing my confession to jump back deep inside me before it had a chance to escape. Detective Parker kept his eyes on me, like he knew I had been about to say something interesting, as he asked the patrolman if it could wait.
“No, the homeowner is quite insistent he talk with you right now. Something about a missing passport.”
“I’ll be there in a moment.” The detective still stared at me. “Was there something you were going to say?”
I shrugged. “If you talk to my sister, make sure you talk slowly and look at her. She reads lips well, but she misses stuff.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
He looked at me one last time before he left, like he knew there was something I wasn’t saying.
I shut the door behind him, debating how to go about tackling the mess. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Paisley that we needed to meet soon.
I could start with the clothes in the closet. All of that needed to be washed, as did my lingerie, unless I wanted to go to school smelling like a brewery. My stomach roiled when I thought of Alex pawing his way through my personal items.
As I turned, my jacket caught my eye. It hung on the back of my door in its usual spot. Maybe Alex hadn’t noticed it, since it was out of sight when the door was swung open. Something about it, so untouched, drew me to it. I touched the dark brown faux-leather fabric, remembering how Maggie had insisted I buy a vegan jacket. The left pocket was empty. As was the right.
But there was something was sticking out of the small pocket on the chest. A pocket I never used.
Whatever was in the pocket was small. Square. Part of me debated calling Gin and asking him to come back, that I didn’t care that my father had asked him to leave so we could go through the house in private. If I said I needed him, Gin would come over despite my father’s nasty looks.
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and unzipped the small pocket. I slid my fingers inside.
I pulled out a small packet, wrapped in white notebook paper. On the outside of the paper was a loopy heart that didn’t look like something Alex would draw. It was rather girly, from the shape of the heart to the pink ink. Like the sort of thing a silly girl would draw for her boyfriend.
Weird. I shook my head and unwrapped the paper, and a small chain fell out into my hands. Along with an unopened condom.
“Jerk!” I tossed the condom away from me. It bounced off of the door before falling to my feet.
I ran the length of the chain through my fingers until I came to the charm. Really, it was three charms. A tiny drawing of a plum blossom in a silver frame, a purple glass bead, and the letter S.