Remember Me Tomorrow

NINE

T he next morning I get dressed in all my winter gear, but I don’t leave my room. I wait at my door with my eye on the peephole. When I hear Gracie’s door open and see her walking to the stairs, I rush out.

“Gracie! Hi!” I say, catching up to her.

She doesn’t look happy to see me. Yeah, this girl doesn’t trust me.

“Aleeza, hey.”

“Such great timing to bump into you! I was hoping to talk to you about something. Are you going next door for breakfast?”

Gracie clearly doesn’t want to have a meal with me. Rightfully so—I’m awkward and being way too pushy, and she thinks I’m one of Jay’s stalkers. I need an angle here ... How would Nancy Drew get a suspect to speak to her? Should I trick her into talking about Jay?

But ... Gracie isn’t a suspect. And I’m trying to get her to trust me, not only because of this Jay project but also because I’m going to live next door to her for the next two months. “Professor Sarah said I should talk to you about my media project. I’ve had to restart it because ... well, for the same reason I had to move in here. Also”—I hope I’m not rambling—“it would be nice to have someone to talk to in East House. I don’t know anyone here.”

I can see the moment Gracie’s compassion convinces her to throw me a small friendship bone. Her shoulders relax as we get to the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah, okay. Let’s talk over breakfast.”

This is the first time I’m actually eating in the dining hall in City Tower instead of grabbing food to-go. The old hall is cramped with beaten-up wood tables and chairs, and walls that clearly used to be white but are now a graying beige with teal moldings. I get a buttered cinnamon bagel and a tea. Gracie gets a breakfast burrito and a smoothie. We sit near the window, where at least the view is less depressing since the sun is finally shining after so many days of nonstop flurries. The snow outside looks pretty, actually. On these clear, bright winter days, Mom and I used to go to this conservation park near Alderville for a winter hike or snowshoeing. Walking through the busy downtown Toronto streets wouldn’t be the same. All my loneliness is making me homesick. Maybe I should go home to Alderville next weekend.

“Why is this dining hall always empty?” I ask while stirring my tea.

“People only eat here if they have nowhere better to go.” Gracie shakes her bottled smoothie. She’s in pants today—wide-legged black ones—with a turquoise button-up and a cream cardigan. And of course, her red lipstick. Her dark hair is in a ponytail, with her bangs and some front pieces framing her face. Gracie is pretty, but more than that, she has a kind face—when she’s not annoyed with someone. And she always seems annoyed at me.

I take a bite of my bagel. It’s actually quite tasty.

“So ... what did you want to ask?” Gracie asks, getting right to it. Okay. No small talk, then.

I take a deep breath. “My media project. Since I’m living in Jay’s old room, I’m doing an investigative podcast on his disappearance.”

Gracie looks at me with no expression on her face.

“Because,” I continue, “you know. I have a personal connection with him. Sarah said it will make me invested but not biased, since I didn’t actually know him. I know you wrote an article in the school paper about him. Sarah said I should talk to you about it. You know ... to figure out where to start. Maybe I could even interview you for my podcast.”

“I knew it.” Gracie shakes her head. She stands, picking up her tray. “I don’t know why you vultures won’t leave him alone. He’s gone ... Haven’t you all done enough?”

“Wait,” I say, putting my hand out. “I’m not stalking Jay. I honestly didn’t know him. Please hear me out.”

She blinks at me, then sits back down, expression still annoyed.

I exhale. “I need a new media project. I had to restart, and it’s late.”

“Why do you need to restart a month into the term?”

I sigh. I haven’t really told anyone details of how my old friend ditched me. Except Jay, of course. I tell Gracie all about Mia, Lance, and Taylor. Her expression sours when I mention her new skincare YouTube channel.

“Wow. She changed the entire focus of your show without asking you? Even though it was for your school project? How long did you know this girl?”

“Since we were seven. We came here together from our hometown.”

“Where’s the hometown?”

“Alderville. It’s on the Bay of Quinte. In Prince Edward County.”

“Never heard of it. Sounds like good riddance, though. I hate it when a person’s entire identity becomes about the person they’re dating. She may have been your best friend, but you weren’t hers.”

I blink. Mia was my best friend. But ... was it possible it had never been mutual? This isn’t the first time she pushed me aside for a boy. And she knew I needed a good media project for my portfolio. Something that would demonstrate my passions. But she didn’t care about that. All she cared about was YouTube views. And Lance.

“Is she in journalism too?”

“No, retail management.”

Gracie shrugs. “I suppose the skincare thing makes a little bit of sense for her then. Why are you pivoting to a podcast instead of a web series?”

“If I’m alone, I’d rather not put my face on camera.”

She frowns. “That’s silly. You have a great face. Why investigate Jay’s disappearance if you don’t know him?”

“Sarah said I should pick something that’s relevant to me instead of some random mystery because it makes it more compelling to the listeners. But she said it was good that I didn’t know Jay because I’ll be unbiased.” Even though I do know Jay. I just didn’t know him before he disappeared. And I can’t tell Gracie that I know him now because she’d think I’m nuts.

“Okay, I get that. So you only want to cover Jay’s case for the class credit?”

No, I also want to investigate it because Jay didn’t deserve what happened to him. Because even if he’s a player or an ass, he’s also a funny guy and kind of my friend. But again, I can’t tell Gracie that.

“I’m really into mysteries,” I say. “And, I don’t know, it’s weird to be living in the room where he disappeared. I feel bad for him. He’s a person, right? He couldn’t have been all bad.”

Gracie shakes her head. “He wasn’t. I didn’t know him that well, but I liked the guy. He was upbeat and a little silly. I could never reconcile the things people said about him with the person who lived next door to me. That’s why I wanted to write that article. I wanted to show a different side of Jay than what everyone was saying. But hell, it was hard to find anyone who’d say something positive about him. Except his teachers. They all loved him.”

Gracie saw the same thing in Jay that I see. A friendly, optimistic person. It makes me like her more. But also, this adds to the mystery of Jay. Why is he a fun, nice, friendly person to me and Gracie, and not to anyone else? Where Jay Hoque is concerned, I have more questions than answers.

“Yeah ... that’s kind of the angle I want to take,” I say. “Unbiased and actually empathetic to the victim, which no one else seems to be.” I’ve looked up the other student podcasts about his disappearance, and they’re not exactly kind to him. One of them is actually called Karma’s a Bitch .

“Okay ... so what do you want from me?” Gracie asks.

I shrug. “Whatever you are willing to help me with. An interview about what it was like to live next to him. What you heard or saw on the day he disappeared. I’d love to be connected with that ex of his you spoke to—”

“Emma. Yeah, she’s on my ... friend’s soccer team. Let me ask her.” She picks up her phone and texts someone, then looks up at me. “Actually, Aster—she’s the one who was outside my room the other day. She’s in second year and knows a lot of people who know ... knew Jay. People he hung out with last year. I can’t promise anything, but yeah, I’ll help you out.” She looks at her phone for a bit, then back at me. “You ever get this feeling that someone is getting the short end of the stick all the time? I felt that about Jay even before he went missing.”

I nod. I understand exactly what Gracie means. Jay said something like that, about how hard it is to have a happily ever after in a place you’re not supposed to be.

Also, turns out the girl in the hallway isn’t Gracie’s girlfriend. Just a hookup? Friends with benefits?

Gracie’s phone buzzes. She checks it. “Emma’s in. Not surprised. Last time, I wouldn’t let her ramble on about how terrible Jay was for as long as she wanted, so of course she’s jumping at the chance to meet again. You know she tried to talk to the major media, too, but they wouldn’t listen to her? She says five o’clock in the student center Starbucks. That work for you?”

I nod. I have nothing else to do today—until eight, when Jay and I are supposed to talk.

After spending most of the day doing coursework in the library, right before five I head across campus to the student center. It’s not snowing anymore, but it’s still cold. I reassess my desire to have something outdoorsy to do today, because I can’t feel my cheeks at all. It’s March—why is this winter being so cruel? Everyone told me that winters in Toronto would be better than Alderville, which is in the snow belt, but it’s been brutal here. The chill goes all the way to my bones.

When I get to Starbucks, I see Gracie standing with two long-haired girls near the entrance to the cafe. They’re both in winter gear, too, but not as heavily bundled as Gracie. As I get closer, I recognize the girl I saw in the hallway with her the day I moved in.

“It’s really busy in there,” Gracie says. “We’ll have to sit in the student lounge. Did you want to get a drink first?” I shake my head. I have my water bottle with me. We find seats in the student lounge—a place that looks weirdly like a Tim Hortons coffee shop, except without a serving counter. Gracie formally introduces Aster, then Emma Coffey.

From far away, I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between Emma and Aster. Both have long brown, highlighted hair and rosy cheeks. Both are wearing sweatshirts, and both have pink lipstick on. I wonder if this is the standard look for the school’s soccer team. Up close, though, Aster has a warmer, friendlier smile and has less makeup on than Emma. She has visible freckles on her nose. Also, Aster has oversize, gold-rimmed aviator glasses on. I immediately notice the Gucci label on the side of them.

“I hope you don’t mind Aster joining,” Gracie says. “When I told her about your project, she squealed.”

Aster nods vigorously. “Sorry I was being weird when we met. It’s so cool that you’re doing a podcast on Jay. I’m obsessed with true crime podcasts.”

“Yeah, no worries,” I say. Gracie said Aster knows a lot of Jay’s friends, so she could be useful to the investigation.

Emma flips her hair over her shoulder. “Podcasts are dying. You should do a true crime TikTok series.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to stick with a podcast.” I put my phone on the table and open the voice recorder app. “Do I have your consent to record you? I might use some of this in the podcast, but if you don’t want me to, that’s fine.”

Emma nods. “Definitely. Go ahead.”

I hit “Start” on my phone’s voice recorder. “If you say something that you want to retract, let me know.” She nods. “Okay, how and when did you first meet Jay Hoque?”

“In the fall. I think it was, like, the first week of school. We met at the Wolfe.” The Wolfe is a bar near campus that has a reputation for cheap drinks and not checking IDs. I went once with Mia in September—it played nineties house music too loud and smelled like a mix of beer and Lysol. I prefer another local bar, the BookShelf, because I’m a cliché who likes a literary theme. Now I wonder if Jay and Emma met the same night I was at the Wolfe.

“Did you approach him?” I really can’t imagine my friend Jay with Emma.

Emma snorts. “Uh, no . I was so not looking to hook up that night. My friend had just had a nasty breakup and wanted to get tanked. Jay picked me up.”

“What was your impression of him back then?”

Emma frowns. “I’d seen him around last year, you know? With Jack and that crew.” She glances at Aster. I wonder if that crew means the people Aster knows. I remember Jay mentioning a friend named Jack.

“But you hadn’t met him before then?”

She laughs a little self-consciously and sneaks a glance at Aster again. What is that about? Emma looks like she wants Aster’s approval.

“Nah. I heard he was an ass. But he was so hot . He was on the water polo team, you know. You should have seen those pecs.”

That checks out. Jay did mention water polo practice once.

“How long were you two ... associating?” I don’t want to say together because Jay said they never really were together. And saying sleeping together seems weird.

Emma doesn’t seem to notice my awkward phrasing. “A couple of weeks? Until, like, end of September? He totally ghosted me. I mean, I should have known. Like they say, a giraffe can’t change his stripes.”

“Zebra,” Gracie says, correcting Emma. She looks like she’s holding in a laugh.

Emma waves a hand. “Whatever.”

So it seems Emma wasn’t talking to him anymore at least a month before he disappeared. I really don’t want this interview to turn into a Jay was terrible session, so I guide the conversation forward.

“What else can you tell me about him? Was he close to his family? Did he have hobbies? What did you guys talk about?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. We didn’t really talk that much. He’s from Scarborough, if you can believe it. I guess living there makes you paranoid—he was convinced he was being followed. The guy was so strange—I have no clue how he ended up with Jack’s crowd.” She snorts. “Jay used to take the subway all the way to Scarborough just to get a sandwich.” She makes a face. “I’m sorry, but no sandwich is worth getting potentially shot for.”

Scarborough is a district in the east end of Toronto that has a reputation for being dangerous and full of crime. In reality, the crime rate is no worse than the rest of the city, but Scarborough has a lower average income, is underfunded, and is mostly full of immigrants and people of color. I follow a food blogger from the area, and the food there looks incredible . I’d be tempted to take a long subway ride for a sandwich that good.

Gracie scowls at Emma’s elitist—and frankly, racist —comment. I can tell that Gracie doesn’t like Emma, and that Emma doesn’t notice or care. The only person here that Emma seems to care about is Aster. And Aster seems to be indifferent to Emma’s fawning. She’s mostly looking at Gracie.

What’s the story with Aster, anyway? She has nothing to do with Jay or his disappearance, but there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on.

“So, were you and Jay exclusive?” I ask.

She blinks. “I thought we were. But after he ghosted me, I found out that Jay Hoque doesn’t do exclusive.”

“Did he say you were exclusive?”

She doesn’t answer that question. Between Jay and Emma, clearly Jay is the more trustworthy one. Even though I’ve never seen his body language.

But I still can’t tell if Emma is capable of hurting Jay. Does she hate him enough for that? I ask another question.

“You said earlier that you knew he was an ass. Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, you know. Around.” She giggles. “Everyone knows he was an asshole, right? It was all over Birdwatcher .”

“Wasn’t the Birdwatcher Tumblr taken down last spring?” I ask.

Gracie turns to me, surprised. She might have heard of Birdwatcher, but I don’t think she knew about the Tumblr.

Emma looks around the student center, then leans close, as if she’s talking only to Aster. “You haven’t heard? Birdwatcher is back .” I wonder if Gracie included Aster in this conversation because she knew Emma would be more likely to open up. Seems Gracie truly does want to help me.

Aster raises a brow. “It is?”

Emma nods, grinning. “On Instagram.”

Instagram? I pick up my phone and do a quick search for Birdwatcher on Instagram. All the results have to do with actual birds. Not Jay.

“Who’s behind the account?” Gracie asks.

Emma shakes her head. “No one knows. It’s anonymous .” She looks at Gracie. “I wanted to show it to you when you interviewed me, but the posts were all deleted when he disappeared.”

I make a note in my black notebook to do a more detailed search for Birdwatcher on all social media. “What did they post on Instagram? Pictures of Jay?” I ask.

Emma shakes her head. “No. The grid was just, like, random pictures of birds, but the captions were full of all the horrible things that Jay did. Did you know he paid some Indian guy to do his final projects for him last year? Someone even said he forged his high school transcripts.”

I frown. This is the same stuff Jay said was on Tumblr. He said none of it was true, and I believe him. I barely know Jay at all, but I don’t think he’s the type to do stuff like that.

Or is he?

He did ask me to ask his future self what would be on his engineering exam. And he did want to bet on sports to make millions.

“You told me Birdwatchers were girls who he cheated on. Not people accusing him of cheating at school,” Gracie says.

Emma nods. “Yeah, they do both. So, like, in October they had this story up that said girls could DM them about things Jay did, and they’d post them anonymously. Lots of girls wrote in about what an ass he was to them. I wrote in too.”

“Okay,” I say. “Do I have this straight? Last school year there was a Tumblr blog about how terrible Jay was. Then it was taken down. But then this year, an Instagram account appeared under the same name saying the same stuff from Tumblr but also posting stuff girls sent in anonymously.”

Emma nods, grinning. “I told you he was an ass.”

“No, you told me that anonymous social media accounts said he was an ass,” I say. “You do know that not everything online is true, don’t you?”

Aster snort laughs at that, then grins at me. “I like you,” she says.

Emma’s forehead creases, but she doesn’t say anything.

“When did the Instagram start?” I ask.

“Like, early this year. I saw it in September.”

“Did anyone tell the police about it when they were searching for him?” I ask. “It’s cyberbullying.”

Emma shrugs. “I don’t know. I assume someone said something. But is it bullying? Everyone knew he was bad news—”

Gracie interrupts again. “If you knew he was trouble, why did you date him?”

“I told you. He was, like ... chiseled . Plus, you know.” She looks at Aster. “His friends all still hung out with him, so I thought he was okay. But then I saw his true colors. He was always so secretive , disappearing every weekend. He said it was to see his family, but he never talked about them.”

“How did you find out about the Instagram in the first place?” Gracie asks.

“Bailey Cressman showed it to me.” I detect a touch of pride when Emma says that name. And for some reason, Aster snorts again.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

Emma raises a brow. “You don’t know Bailey? I thought everyone knew Bailey. I was at a party with her, and she showed me the whole thing.” She giggles. “Bailey gets chatty when she’s drunk. We’re good friends, you know.”

“Can you give me Bailey’s contact info?”

Emma looks at me like I asked for her firstborn.

Aster waves her hand. “I can connect you to Bailey Cressman. We don’t need Emma.”

Emma looks at Aster, then frowns. “I can come when you talk to her. I mean, in case you want to ask me—”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Gracie says. “Aleeza, I think we’re done with Emma. What do you think?”

“One more question,” I say. “You said you saw Jay before he disappeared. Where and when?”

“It was, like ... the day before, I think. He was being super creepy ... like, hiding behind a tree in front of West Hall, staring at the door. When he saw me, he turned away. Like, he didn’t even say hi. I told you he was super paranoid—it was like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”

I raise a brow. It’s quite a leap to assume someone standing near a tree is clearly doing something wrong.

“I think I have enough,” I say, turning off the voice recorder. I really don’t want to spend any more time with this girl. “Here’s my number.” I write it on a Post-It note. “Call or text me if you want to add anything. Thanks for talking to us.”

Emma pouts a little, then pulls some sunglasses out of her bag and puts them on. They are aviator-style, like Aster’s eyeglasses, but there is no Gucci label on them. Emma says goodbye to Aster and walks away. Gracie and I barely get a nod from her. I have no idea why Emma looks so disappointed. What was she expecting from this meeting that she didn’t get?

Gracie grins once Emma is gone. “She told us a ton, didn’t she? I kept hearing about Birdwatcher—I had no idea it was a secret Instagram account.” She picks up her phone. After a few seconds, she frowns. “I can’t find it.”

I try again on my own phone, searching the words Birdwatcher + Jay Hoque on the app. I find plenty of hits with pictures of birds. It would take me a while to find the right one. “I wonder if it’s been deleted like the Tumblr.” I shake my head. “She basically admitted that every evil thing she thinks about Jay is from that account.” I look up Jay’s name alone on Instagram and find his personal account, but it hasn’t been updated in a while. And there are no birds on it.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Aster says. “Emma Coffey doesn’t have an original thought in her head.”

After searching a few more seconds, I put my phone down. This would be easier on my computer later. It’s strange. My gut feeling is still that Jay is more trustworthy than Emma, but at the same time, I’ve lost some respect for him now that I know he dated her. Or hooked up with her. Or whatever. She seems so ... I don’t know. Not like him. I don’t know why I care, but I do. “Okay, so what do we do now?” I ask.

“I’ll see if Bailey will talk to you,” Aster says. “Warning, though ... I’d take everything Bailey Cressman says with a grain of salt. She cares more about status than anything else.”

I frown at Aster. Status. Emma seemed pretty status obsessed too. The comments she made about Jay’s family left such a bad taste in my mouth.

I still can’t figure out why Emma was acting weird about Aster, though. What’s the deal there? I could just ask Aster. “I got a weird vibe from Emma. Like she wanted to impress you or something. Were you two ... a thing or something?”

Aster snorts incredulously. “Yeah, absolutely not . I have no interest in pick-me straight girls.”

Gracie laughs. “You’re right, though. Emma definitely wants to impress Aster. She wants a ticket into Aster’s world. Like everyone else does.”

“Except you,” Aster deadpans, looking right at Gracie.

Gracie looks away awkwardly. So, even if Gracie and Aster aren’t girlfriends, there’s something between them. I think Aster is into Gracie, but I can’t read what Gracie feels for Aster.

And why does everyone (except Gracie, apparently) want a ticket into Aster’s world?

Gracie finally explains. “Did you notice that Emma talked about Bailey the same way? She would love her name to be used in the same breath as Aster and Bailey. Because they’re ... rich.”

That explains Aster’s expensive glasses. “Emma wants to be friends with you because you have money?”

Gracie shakes her head. “These people aren’t just wealthy; they’re like ... stinking wealthy . Like, one percenters. Socialites. Actual trust-fund kids. Aster here included.”

“Yes, but you know that I’m a socialist hippie deep down.” Aster gives Gracie a look of pure admiration. Yeah, she’s totally into Gracie.

Gracie doesn’t say anything to that. “Bailey’s friends are all snooty as hell. Emma would kill to be one of them. Hell, I’ll bet she only hooked up with Jay to get closer to them.”

That surprises me. “Wait ... Jay’s rich too?” Nothing he told me about his family made me think they had extreme wealth.

Gracie shakes her head. “No, not that I know of.”

“But he was friends with some of that crew,” Aster says. “I used to see him at parties all the time last year. Not sure why. Anyway, I wouldn’t put it past Emma to hook up with him to get into those parties. And then she lost interest when she realized he wasn’t really partying with them much anymore.” Aster looks at her smartwatch. “Shit. That’s my mom.” She looks at Gracie. “It’s my weekly pilgrimage to the Bridle Path for Sunday dinner.”

Wow. They weren’t kidding about extreme wealth. The Bridle Path is the wealthiest neighborhood in the city. Actually, it’s the wealthiest in all of Canada.

“I guess I’ll start transcribing that interview,” I say. “Thanks a bunch. Both of you.” I know there is no way I would have gotten this far without them. But also, I don’t feel any closer to learning what actually happened to Jay.

“No problem,” Aster says, grinning. “I’d love to come along if you interview someone else. Oooh, should I get a lapel microphone?”

“Are you two ...,” I stutter. “I mean, do you want to keep helping me?”

Gracie nods. “Yeah, I’m game. Jay deserves justice. I can also help with your podcast. I’m doing a documentary on the history of Toronto’s Koreatown for my media project but working on yours, too, will look good on my résumé.”

“Yeah, absolutely, that would be cool,” I say. “And I can help you, too, if you need ... anything.”

“I’ve always wanted to be in a Scooby gang,” Aster says. “I’m going to buy detective gear. Give me your number. I’ll let you know what Bailey says.”

I give Aster my phone number. I know this doesn’t mean I have friends, but it’s at least something. “Okay. Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem! Bye!” Aster and Gracie leave the student center together.

I smile as I slip my notebook into my backpack. Apparently, I found myself a little mystery-solving gang.