Friday
February 2
Against all odds, I work really well at this ungodly hour of the morning. So when our time is up, Chace books the suite for the same time tomorrow. It’ll be Saturday, so I’m already planning on bringing my own travel mug—or bucket—of coffee.
We were really productive and made great progress on my media project, yet as we walk home together, I can’t help but grumble. “Ugh, pink and red paper hearts everywhere.” I flick my hand toward the love-themed window at the café I now plan to avoid until it’s decorated for St. Patrick’s Day. “In two weeks they’re going to be in the bin.”
Chace rolls his perfect emerald eyes, and my insides turn to mush. “Lylah, try to be more optimistic.”
Maybe if things with Chace were going the way I’ve been hoping for the last year and a half, I would be more enthusiastic. It would be nice to have a distraction, something to look forward to this time of year. “I think you’ll find that I’m a realist,” I reply.
Okay, that’s probably a stretch. I do sound like a miserable, single grump. Valentine’s Day doubly sucks when it marks a family tragedy and you’re painfully in love with someone who doesn’t know you’re in love with him.
I still remember when I first met Chace. He looked like he belonged in a Calvin Klein advertising campaign. His dark blond hair, muscular physique, and outgoing personality turned me into a blubbering mess when he introduced himself.
Then there’s me. I’m petite with light blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a slightly socially awkward personality. Or maybe I’m only awkward around him.
Regardless, we don’t match, and the sooner my heart gets that memo, the better. But so far I’ve not had much success on that front.
Chace launches into describing a trailer he saw for a new movie, and I can’t help imagining us both in the theater, snuggled up next to each other, sharing popcorn. Totally inappropriate, Lylah. Focus.
As we turn the corner onto our street, I almost collide with someone tall. He’s wearing a long, black leather coat. Underneath is a dark gray hoodie, the top of it pulled down low over the person’s face.
“Sorry,” I say to the only part of his face that is visible—dark-brown stubble that completely hides his chin.
“Right,” the guy mumbles, stepping aside. His voice is very deep, but it sounds like he’s trying to disguise it. But why would he? His head turns as I walk past, watching me from his shroud like I’m prey.
Chace raises his eyebrows, seemingly also uneasy.
I glance behind me. The man has disappeared.
Chace and I continue walking, but my chest tightens with nervousness.
“I guess it’s not just Halloween that brings out the crazies,” I say.
“Huh. He was kind of dressed like the grim reaper,” Chace replies.
“It wasn’t only the way he was dressed. His whole vibe was creepy. Intimidating.”
“He probably couldn’t see you with his hood that low.”
I roll my eyes. Sure seemed like he could. “Yeah, what’s up with that?”
“Hey, not everyone is blessed with quality hair like this,” he teases, running his hand through his locks.
Whipping my hand out of my pocket, I slap Chace on the arm. Laughing, he bats my hand away. “Sorry. Forget it, babe. He’s gone.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing him call me babe.
Chace starts walking again. I follow, pushing my legs faster to catch up with his long strides. At the moment, I don’t want to be left behind.
“Lylah, I can hear you thinking. What has you freaked out?”
I shake my head, and my hair falls in my face. Brushing it back, I reply, “Nothing. I guess that guy startled me.”
“I don’t know how you get through April Fools’ Day or Halloween.”
“Well, those I like. You’re supposed to scare people then.”
“You’re confusing.”
So are you.
Chace and I make it home, and I dip my hand into my bag to grab the key. He stands behind me, and the close proximity makes my mind cloud. His warm breath blows through my hair and against my ear. Concentrate. Key. Lock. Now, Lylah.
With an unsteady hand, I turn the key, and the green door creaks open.
“Sonny?” I call as I tentatively walk through. There’s no answer. My throat constricts. I just want to know that Sonny is safe. It’s been more than twelve hours since we last saw him.
“You here, bro?” Chace calls.
We’re met with complete silence. No one is home.
Turning to Chace with my bottom lip wedged between my teeth, I shrug my shoulders, at a loss.
Chace glances at his phone. “Wait—doesn’t he have a class now?”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “He’s always complaining that he has more classes on Fridays than any other day.”
“So, he’s probably there. Why don’t we head back to campus and see if we can find him?” Chace shrugs his shoulder. “I know we just came from there, but at least it’ll stop us from worrying.”
“I don’t care that we have to go straight back, but you want to peek into his classroom? Like stalkers?”
Chace’s lips kick up in a smile. “But we’ll know he’s safe, so who cares if we look a bit creepy doing it?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He could go for lunch in town or hang out with a friend afterward, and we’d still be worrying. I can’t wait for him to show up somewhere. “No, you’re right. We need to look for him.”
He takes a step back out the door. “Let’s go. It’s getting closer to the end of class. We’ll have to hurry.”
I lock the house back up and then check my phone. There’s only a message from Sienna saying she and Isaac haven’t seen Sonny. Charlotte will be looking too, but she and Sonny don’t usually cross paths. She’s strictly a class, library, and home kind of girl. The only time she goes out is if Sienna and I drag her. And the only time Sonny goes to the library is to cram for finals.
On a new mission, Chace and I race back to campus, with no time to stop and exchange pleasantries with anyone. Sonny’s class will let out soon, and we could miss him. We pass people we know with a brief wave, but I don’t care about being rude. There’s a tenseness in my stomach that won’t allow me to relax, and I know it won’t disappear until I’ve seen or heard from Sonny.
Sonny’s math building is up ahead. “Please be in there. Please be in there,” I mutter, trying to calm the acid churning in my stomach.
“Lylah, I’m sure he’s fine,” Chace says. His eyes darken with worry as he stares at me like I’m a fragile child.
He doesn’t fully know this side of you.
I don’t want him to know everything about me. Chace is protective enough without seeing me at my worst. I think it would scare him.
“I’m just worried,” I say, giving him the best smile I can muster. “I hate not knowing if he’s okay. But you’re right, he’s probably sitting in that classroom, head bowed over his notebook, battling the worst hangover.”
Except I don’t believe the words that pour from my mouth any more than Chace does. He returns my smile, but it’s weak and unconvincing.
As we approach the classroom, Chace takes my hand. I hold on to him. I peer through the large windows. My throat is so dry I feel like I could choke.
“He’s not there,” I whisper. Three rows of students stare at their professor as he lectures. None of them are Sonny. “Are you sure this is the right room?”
“I’ve walked over with him before,” Chace says, “and there is only one empty seat.”
“What do we do now?”
Chace replies in a low voice. “We go to security.”
I nod my head and take a bracing breath. “Okay.”
“Campus security will know what to do before we can go to the police and officially report Sonny as missing. They might even have him on camera somewhere,” he adds.
God, I hope so.
I will never forget what it was like to wait in limbo for news about my parents. When things took a turn for the worse, every second felt like an eternity. It was excruciating, and now the feeling’s back.
Chace turns, tugging my arm, but I’m still rooted in place.
“Sorry,” I say, and I fall in step beside him. Even holding his hand doesn’t anchor me.
We head toward the student union, where campus security has its main office. A man the size of a tank greets us from behind a reception desk. His eyes are friendly, and he smiles. I recognize him. Security officers are always walking the grounds, but I’ve never really paid much attention to them before. I’ve never needed to.
“Everything all right?” the officer asks.
“No,” I reply, my voice shaking, betraying how worried I am. “Our friend is missing. We haven’t seen him since last night—it’s totally unlike him. He never stays out. Never.”
The security officer frowns. “Come inside a minute.” He comes out from behind the desk and opens the door to a small conference room.
“I’m Paul,” he says after he closes the door and we all sit down. He takes a notebook and a pen from his pocket. “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Sonny James,” I reply.
“When and where were you the last time you saw him?”
“Last night, around ten thirty.” Then Chace and I launch into the story of the notes.
Officer Paul frowns, the creases on his forehead rolling. “And you don’t know who sent these notes?”
“Not a clue. They weren’t signed,” Chace says.
“Where was Sonny going last night?”
I shrug. “He decided to meet up with some girl rather than going to the after-party, so just into town I think.”
Chace clears his throat. “He could have gone home with someone. He’s known for that, but he never stays out all night.”
The security officer nods. “Okay, let me take some more details, and I’ll have a word with a friend at the police station.”
My shoulders sag. I was hoping he would have a more immediate solution. “Thank you.”
We give him our address and answer everything else we can for him to relay to the police.
“Okay,” Paul says. “I’ll have last night’s footage from the theater building checked out, but if your friend went into town after, it’s unlikely we’ll see anything useful. Take my number and leave yours. If he comes home, let me know immediately. Meanwhile, I’ll get his photo out to the rest of the team.”
“Thank you so much.” My breath comes a bit easier. I’m so glad he’s taking over. He’s probably handled situations like this before. And they’ve probably turned out fine.
Paul reassures us that he will do everything in his power to find Sonny. In the meantime, with me having no classes on Fridays, there is nothing I can do but wait. I hate waiting; it’s always been unbearable. But it looks like we’re in for a really long evening.