I was annoyed at that and made him go down on me. We lasted only another two weeks after that. I was ready to move on to the next stage of my life. Bradley hemmed and hawed a little about getting a teaching job in New Hampshire, but we both knew he wouldn’t. This thing between us had run its course. The last time I’d seen him was graduation.
Until now.
I tried to reconcile that version of Bradley, a twenty-six-year-old who was so enamored with me that he was willing to lose his job and reputation just to keep sleeping with me, with the measured thirty-three-year-old I was talking to now. Had he ever actually loved me?
I hadn’t blamed Bradley then, or at any point since. He had been my rock, and for a long time after, I appreciated that. I refused to let us become a talking point. I had been a mature eighteen-year-old then. I’d had to be. And I had assumed Bradley had seen that. We were two people who had grown to care for each other. We were just a few years apart in age, and it hadn’t been illegal. But had it been immoral? My body resisted the idea, but then when I imagined Hazel in my position, only a little younger now than I had been then, I was filled with disgust. Hatred.
But it dissipated as I looked at the man in front of me. Logic aside, I struggled to see him as a predator. He was still justBradleyto me. The man who replaced my suicidal thoughts with ones about an Ivy League future. I had found so much comfort in him. My feelings toward him wrestled painfully inside my brain, leaving me confused and uncomfortable.
“I really tried to do my best to help you, Rose,” Bradley said. “What you had to go through, and what you’re still going through. It isn’t fair.” He stopped,watching my eyes water, and moved a step closer to me. He stroked his thumb against the side of my face. “I’m really proud of you for writing the book,” he said. “Regardless of what I think happened back then, it was ballsy as hell.”
“Thanks,” I said, sighing. I felt tired of this conversation, and I was going to be late to meet Kayleigh if I didn’t leave now. “I should go. I’m meeting someone.”
Bradley frowned. “Can we exchange numbers at least? That way you can call me if you want to talk some more.” His eyes lit up a little. “Maybe we can even grab a drink?”
I didn’t give him an answer, just a strained smile as I handed my phone over and let him put his number in. I had zero plans to grab a drink with him, but it would be good to have a way to call him in case I had any questions about Hazel.
I didn’t look back as I left the classroom. I walked back through the courtyard and a heavy dread sat in the middle of my chest. Seeing Bradley had been more emotionally draining than I’d expected. But I knew it was good that I had done it. I would always have wondered if he was somehow involved in all of this. He might be a creep, but I felt confident our relationship had been an isolated incident.
Despite my relief, I couldn’t help but think:Well, there goes another suspect.
12
Kayleigh was already sitting at the picnic tables when I approached. Her eyes were glued to her phone as she scrolled numbly. Post–volleyball practice, she was dressed in bright Lululemon shorts that accentuated how lean she was. Her red hair was braided and sat like a red rope over her narrow shoulders. One of her legs was pressed against her chest, showcasing a nasty purple bruise.
“Kayleigh?” I asked tentatively. She looked up at me and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from audibly gasping. On Instagram, she had looked like sunshine personified. But in front of me now, she looked like hell.
Her skin was ashen and the dark circles under eyes were big enough to swim in. Her lips, perpetually pink and glossed in photos, were cracked and dry. She looked like she had been up for three days straight, her face twisted in an expression of despair. I knew the look, knew the fear and grief that had created it.
“Rose?” Kayleigh asked. She looked me up and down, taking me in as I sat across from her.
“Yeah.” I tried to offer a smile. “Hi.”
I was struck by how young she looked. She had to be sixteen or seventeen. Practically a baby, even if she didn’t think so. And now her friend, Hazel, was missing. Something inside my chest lurched painfully.
“You look different from your pictures,” Kayleigh said. Funny that we had been thinking the same thing.
“In a good way or a bad way?” I joked. I wanted to make her more comfortable.
“A good way,” Kayleigh said with a small smile, setting her phone down. “You’re prettier in person. Hazel always said that, but you never know.” She swallowed hard at my sister’s name, and I had to fight the urge to break down. I gripped the bench to keep my hands steady.
“She was always talking about you,” she said, her gaze hardening. “About your life in New York. How cool she thought it was that you’re a writer. She wants to go to college there. I don’t know if you knew that.”
The proverbial knife twisted. From the look Kayleigh was giving me, I figured she knew that Hazel and I were not as close as we could be. It made sense. She was Hazel’s best friend.
“I did know that, actually,” I said.
Kayleigh nodded but didn’t look fully satisfied. “Have you …” Her voice caught. “Have you guys heard anything yet? Anything about where she might be?”
I felt horrible as I shook my head. “Not yet. We’ve been looking. Our family and the police but …” I trailed off. I didn’t have any answers for her.
Kayleigh brought her legs up to her chest, clutching them. “I … I just really miss her,” she said softly, her lips trembling. “I know it’s only been a couple days, but it’s been bad. We’re usually talking all day, you know? And I know this sounds stupid but this ruined our Snapchat streak. We’ve kept it up foryears.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid,” I told her reassuringly. I remembered what it felt like to be their age. The things that mattered then.
“It makes me think …” Kayleigh was tearing up now. “That something’s happened to her. Hazel wouldneverdisappear on purpose. Not ever. She would know how worried we’d be. Her dad. Her friends.” She wiped uselessly at her eyes, trying to stop crying. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I reached out and squeezed her shoulder, trying to be comforting, even though my insides were also twisted in pain. I wanted to join her, to let my tears fall on the picnic table. Her words were only adding to my growing terror.
