Page 51 of Come Find Me
I don’t argue, because it’s true. He’s not. Even now, people at the next table are looking at him. It’s nothing you can really put your finger on—just the way everything comes together. The slight bend of his nose, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the angles of his cheekbones, the downslope of his lips. I noticed the very moment he walked into the library.
“How’d you get into the school? And find the library?” I ask.
“Just walked straight in when some adult got buzzed in. They held the door for me and everything. As for the library, you’re not going to believe this.” He lowers his voice and grins. “I asked. Turns out the average high schooler is not nearly as suspicious as you.”
“Well, welcome to West Arbor-Hell,” I say, smiling, which is how Marco introduced it to me.
He pulls the papers out of his backpack. “Figured it would be easier if you had the hard copies to look through. Better than on your phone, anyway.”
He sets some paper and pens between us. “Wait, did you bring a highlighter?” I ask.
He grins. “I came prepared.”
We spend the next twenty-six minutes highlighting relevant information and dates, seeing where the investigation into Hunter’s disappearance petered out, trying to track his whereabouts. Eventually, the overhead bell rings and my shoulders tense. “I can skip,” I say.
“No. Go. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It does, though, if I don’t get to see you after school.”
He looks down at the papers then, as if embarrassed. I can feel my cheeks heating. I let my hair fall over the side of my face as I pack my bag so he doesn’t notice.
The bell rings again, and I’m officially late. He still doesn’t look up.
“Nolan,” I say.
“Yeah?” He’s shuffling papers, still looking down.
I put a hand on his shoulder until he turns his head. “Thank you for coming today,” I say.
I watch as his smile forms, and then I dart for class.
—
Marco catches me at my locker after last period. “Hey,” he says, angling his body between me and my locker door.
“Hey,” I repeat, tipping my head so he gets the picture to move out of the way.
He frowns and steps aside, but he’s still hovering over my shoulder. “What are you doing with that kid?”
“What kid?” I say, slamming the locker door.
“Uh, the kid who walked into the library, looking for you, even though he doesn’t go to our school.”
I had no idea Marco was in the library. “What’s it to you, Marco?”
His expression shifts, like I’ve somehow hurt him. Impossible. Marco didn’t care enough to be hurt. “You don’t have to act so mean, Kennedy. I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to…”
I wave him off so he’ll just stop. He didn’t. He didn’t know how to act, or be, and I didn’t know how to tell him what I needed. We were young, and then we weren’t. Things got hard. He disappeared.
It wasn’t surprising, but it was telling, and it left me with no one, on my own. My friends were his friends. And when he left me alone, that was it. I wasalone.
“Stop acting like this was my decision,” he says. “You seem so angry at me all the time.”
“I’m notangry.I’m…” I can’t find the word. Indifferent. Empty. Bitter. Maybe there’s a part of me thatisangry, a little. Maybe it’s easier to be angry about things like that—my boyfriend didn’t come to see me after—than the other parts.
“Well, be careful, Kennedy. That’s all I wanted to say. That kid? Nolan? Two years ago, his brother disappeared. Did you know that?” I nod and keep walking. Marco hurries to keep pace. “Well, there were a lot of rumors. A lot of stories.” He looks side to side before leaning closer. “Including one about his brother’s girlfriend.”
