FOURTEEN
I make Gracie repeat it a few times because I can’t believe it’s true. She finally climbs into Jay’s bed with me and opens a news clip on her phone.
The steady-voiced news anchor looks straight at the camera as she speaks.
“The personal effects of nineteen-year-old Toronto student Jayesh Hoque were found washed up on Woodbine Beach Saturday. Jayesh, a second-year engineering student at Toronto City University, went missing in November from his dorm room. An extensive search in the fall uncovered nothing about his disappearance, but police are now presuming Jayesh lost his life to suicide in Lake Ontario after his coat, containing his wallet and phone, was found on the beach. The family has declined to comment and are asking for privacy at this difficult time.”
A picture, clearly Jay’s high school graduation picture, stays on the screen while the news anchor talks. I haven’t seen the photo before, and it doesn’t match the Jay in my head. Or the Jay I saw around campus last year.
He looks so ... normal in the picture. Young. Slightly nerdy, but in a cute way. Glasses and shorter hair than I’m used to. None of that swagger, that certain something that drew everyone to him. Jay not looking like the Jay in my head makes it harder to grasp that this is true. That he’s gone. Even his name is different—Jayesh.
But it’s Jay. My Jay . The one who last night somehow had his arms around me across time and space.
Jay is dead. A ghost held me as I cried myself to sleep last night.
Or maybe no one did. Maybe my Jay doesn’t exist at all. Just the echo of his consciousness left here in this room after his heart stopped beating.
I squeeze my eyes shut. There is no way to save Jay.
“Aleeza, are you okay?” Gracie has her hand on my arm.
I have to remember that everyone thinks I’ve never met the guy. “Just hit me kind of hard. Poor guy. I mean, we’re sitting on his bed.”
Gracie nods. “It’s so sad. I wish I’d known him better ... I feel like I failed him. Do you agree that this was a suicide?”
I shake my head, even though I really don’t know. The Jay I know, the one who assured me that he’d never want to hurt himself, might not exist. The Jay from this timeline could be a completely different person. I can’t check ResConnect now to see if Jay is there. Not with Gracie right beside me. “Should we still investigate his disappearance?” I ask.
Gracie nods. “Absolutely. We don’t know what happened. Your missing-person podcast might actually be a murder podcast.”
I sigh, slouching. “It feels exploitative now.”
“Of course it’s exploitative! It’s always been exploitative. We were using Jay’s life, his misfortune , for our gain. All true crime media is exploitative. But if we can help the case, maybe help give his parents peace, it’ll be worth it, right?”
Just his mother. Not parents . But also his aunt, uncle, cousins, Nani, and Nana. All the people who love him. I decide then that even if I never hear from Jay on ResConnect again, I will still finish this. I will find out what happened to him. Because Jay’s family deserves to know.
“And anyway, I think Jay would be okay with us doing this,” Gracie says. “He’d like that people he knew have his back and will tell his story without leaving out his humanity. Well, one person he knew. And you. Where are we now? What do we do next after the party?”
I think about it. My mind is foggy, and Jay’s the first person I want to talk to about the party. But also, there are two people we should be looking at.
“I honestly didn’t trust anyone there. Any of them could have been bullying Jay. Bailey’s definitely a possibility, but I want to look closer at Taylor and Jack. I think Taylor might be the Birdwatcher.”
“Taylor? Why?” Gracie asks.
I don’t even know how to explain it. “She ... she had such a weird reaction when she found out I’m living in his room.”
“That’s not much to go on.” Gracie frowns. “Are you sure ... your history with Taylor isn’t clouding your judgment?”
I think about that. True, I don’t like Taylor. And she doesn’t like me. But still, her reaction was so strange. “I’m not saying she’s definitely the Birdwatcher, just that I want to look into it more.”
“Okay. And why Jack? Not that I disagree with you ... but you two were mighty cozy last night.”
I don’t know the answer to that question either. My gut tells me that he knows a lot more than he was letting on last night. “He was so ... cryptic. When I was in his room, he—”
“You were in his room?”
I exhale. “Nothing happened. But he was talking in riddles. I want to talk to him sober ... to see if I can make sense of him.”
“You sober or him sober?”
“Both, ideally.” I almost ask Gracie if we should call Aster to get Jack’s number, but I still don’t know what happened last night between them. And it doesn’t seem like Gracie wants to talk about it. “But not yet. I need to recover from last night.”
Gracie nods, then gets up and stretches. “I texted the don for a spare key. I need to shower, then have some readings to finish today. I’ll give you back your pajamas after I do laundry later. Thanks for letting me crash here.”
The moment Gracie is out of my room, I check ResConnect. I fully expect that Jay’s name won’t be there ... but it is. Jay Hoque. I breathe a sigh of relief and message him.
Aleeza: Are you up? We need to talk.
He doesn’t respond. He could be sleeping.
After brushing my teeth and taking some Advil for my killer headache, I boot up my computer and read everything about Jay I can on news sites. Basically, Jay’s jacket was found washed up on the beach by someone on a walk. His phone and his wallet with his TCU ID card were in the jacket pocket. The person who found them turned them over to the local police station after googling the name on the driver’s license. All articles state that the family won’t be making a statement and ask for privacy.
But why aren’t they making a statement? I look back at some earlier articles that mention Jay’s family. Soon after he first went missing, Jay’s mother made a plea in a press conference for his return. And his cousin had a post on her Instagram linking to an article, begging the public for any information, but they’ve been silent since then. Manal still has me blocked on Instagram. Is it possible that Jay’s family is hiding something? I can’t ask Jay about it—he’s so protective of them. Especially his mother. But maybe I can snoop around without telling him.
My phone buzzes. Jay. Finally.
Jay: We spend one night in the same bed and already I’m getting a “we need to talk”?
What? Oh. He thinks I want to talk about us sleeping in each other’s arms last night. Which I still don’t understand.
I have no idea how to tell him what’s happened.
Aleeza: You were on the news today. Gracie woke me up to show me.
Jay: What? Why?
Aleeza: They found your coat washed up at Woodbine Beach. Your wallet and phone were in the pocket. The police are now presuming you are deceased.
Jay: Show me.
I copy the text from a news article and paste it in ResConnect. While he reads, I go back to the research on my computer. I find his mother’s name on one of those older articles and google Salma Hoque . There is a Facebook account with that name that has a few public comments on some Toronto community pages. She hasn’t posted anything since the disappearance, though.
Which, fair. She’s grieving.
Jay: This is surreal. Now they think I’m dead?
Aleeza: There is no mention of them searching for a body. There might be more that the police aren’t saying. Something that’s leading them to believe this.
Jay: Yeah, because finding just my coat doesn’t mean a lot.
Aleeza: Your coat, phone, and wallet. Do you lose your phone and wallet often?
Jay: No, I’ve never lost them. I use my debit card for everything. I can’t imagine going long without it.
Aleeza: I assume they’ve checked your banking activity and it hasn’t been used since then.
Jay: Yeah, I assume. This is ... wow.
Aleeza: Jay, do you want me to stop investigating this? Cancel the podcast? I feel like we’re exploiting your misfortune for our own gain.
Jay: No, the fuck you are. You’re not exploiting anything. You’re trying to SAVE me. Maybe the Jay from your timeline is dead, but I’m not. Don’t let me go, Aleeza.
I bite my lip. He’s right. This is now about saving his life, not about getting him back. The Jay in my timeline isn’t coming back. He’s gone. But I can still save the Jay I know—the one from five months ago.
Jay: Besides, this news story tells me one thing loud and clear—I didn’t jump into the water. Or go in intentionally in any way.
Aleeza: How do you know?
Jay: My fall coat. It’s a vintage wool duffel coat. I’m an excellent swimmer—but not with a waterlogged wool coat on. I wouldn’t have had it on if I went for a late swim.
Aleeza: That’s a good point. What about shoes? What do you think you would have been wearing?
Jay: Unless I’m working out, I’m always wearing my eight-hole Doc Martens. I can’t swim in those either. Did they find my boots?
Aleeza: Not that I’ve heard.
They could still be on his body, wherever it is. I feel nausea in my stomach.
Jay: What did you find out at Jack’s? Or do you remember it at all?
Aleeza: I remember a lot.
Jay: How much did you drink, anyway?
Aleeza: About three drinks. I’m a lightweight. And I shared a joint with Jack.
Jay: And knowing Jack, it was probably laced with something.
I cringe at the thought of that.
Aleeza: How well do you know Jack? He said some cryptic things about you.
Jay: Jack is an interesting one. I would say he’s the only one in that group I’m still friends with. He’s both the most and the least trustworthy one of them.
Aleeza: Is he an addict?
Jay: I have no idea. Probably. He’s tortured, that’s for sure. I really don’t know why. He’s rich as fuck.
Aleeza: Someone said he hasn’t been sober since the fall.
Jay: He certainly wasn’t sober last night. What else did you learn?
Aleeza: I think Taylor might be the Birdwatcher.
Jay: Taylor, like Lance’s little sister?
Aleeza: You know Lance well?
Jay: Yeah, Lance and I used to be tight. He was my first friend at TCU. He’s the one who told me to join water polo when he found out I was on the swim team in high school. He introduced me to that whole crowd.
That’s interesting.
Aleeza: Did you know that Lance is Mia’s boyfriend?
Jay: That explains why she was at the party. What are the chances?
It does seem strange that after a falling-out with my friend because she ditched me for a boyfriend, I randomly move into the boyfriend’s ex-friend’s room. But it has to be a coincidence. Jay being gone was the reason this room was available in the first place.
Aleeza: It kind of sucked to see her again.
Jay: Did she do something to you last night?
Aleeza: She made me feel ... small. Like a country nothing in the big city party. She made fun of me for feeling buzzed after two drinks and for liking mysteries.
Jay: Not a very good friend.
Aleeza: We’re not friends anymore. She was being super weird. She hasn’t always been this toxic. She’s ditched me for guys before, but she was never this mean, or passive aggressive. When Jack called me exquisite, she literally laughed. It was humiliating.
Jay: Jack called you exquisite?
Aleeza: He was drunk.
Jay: What were you wearing?
Aleeza: This short tight dress of Aster’s. Not my usual thing.
Jay: I really wish I could have seen it. You show up at a party at Mia’s rich boyfriend’s even richer friend’s house looking like a snack. She’s not used to being upstaged by her sidekick.
Aleeza: I wasn’t upstaging her. And how do you know I looked like a snack?
Jay: Because I saw you two days ago in the library, and you looked like a snack then. All dressed up for a party? You totally turned every head there. And Jack has impeccable taste.
I have no idea what to say to that. Jay thought I looked like a snack in the library in my octopus sweatshirt?
Jay: Anything happen between you and Jack?
Aleeza: Are you jealous?
He doesn’t respond right away.
Jay: Yes, I admit I am. Useless to be jealous, though. I’m just a ghost.
I still have no idea what to say. I suddenly remember something Jack said last night.
Aleeza: Last night Jack said YOU had impeccable taste.
Jay: Of course he did. This is strange. All of this.
Aleeza: Extremely.
The chat is silent for a while. This is proof that the complicated feelings I have brewing for my roommate are mutual, and I don’t know what to do about that. To find out on the same day that a guy likes me and is also dead is a lot. Talk about a doomed crush.
But guys like Jay Hoque don’t fall for Aleeza Kassam. Hell, guys like Jack don’t flirt with Aleeza Kassam either. But then, Aleeza Kassam doesn’t go to posh parties in the city wearing a short dress and drinking mai tais. She doesn’t clap back when people make passive-aggressive comments.
Maybe Aleeza Kassam isn’t the person I think she is.
But beyond how strange everything feels lately, I can’t ignore that the only time I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be, or who I’m supposed to be, is when I’m here in this room with Jay. Chatting with him. Watching movies with him. Or sleeping in his bed with the echo of his arms around me.
But since Jay isn’t real, then the feelings aren’t real either. There’s no point in dwelling, or pining, or even thinking about it. Jay is gone. In this timeline, the person I have a crush on doesn’t exist.
Aleeza: Jay, a question for you. Do you know why your mother or your family hasn’t spoken to the media much after your disappearance?
Jay: How would I know that? I haven’t even disappeared yet.
Aleeza: Well, you do know your family. Even your cousin ignored my DMs and blocked me on Instagram.
Jay: I assume they’re upset? Did they ever talk to the media?
Aleeza: Your mother and uncle spoke at a press conference urging for any information from the public a few days after your disappearance. But nothing since then. Even Kegan from the housing office said your mother isn’t returning calls.
Jay: I don’t know what to tell you. I mentioned you to both my cousin and my mother, so they’ve heard of you. Maybe.
Yeah, maybe. Everything was a maybe. Our universes might not be the same.
Aleeza: Are you still saving all the screenshots of our conversations on your phone?
Jay: Yes. Shit. If my phone washed up on a beach then the police have my phone now. They could be reading this conversation right now.
Aleeza: I assume it’s been underwater a long time. The data probably isn’t recoverable. If it is, then I’m sure the police will knock on my door. I’m the only Aleeza at TCU.
My phone buzzes. It’s not a ResConnect message, though, but an Instagram DM.
Jack: This is Jack Gormley. I asked around, and Mia said the octopus sweatshirt someone left at my house is probably yours.
Aleeza: Oh yes. Thanks.
Jack: I’m going to be on campus later this evening. I can bring it.
Well, that’s fortuitous. I want to talk to Jack, and an opportunity to do that drops into my lap. I agree and arrange to meet him in front of the library at seven. I tell Jay that I’m meeting Jack.
Jay: Let me know what happens. And be careful.
Aleeza: I’m always careful. And I’m not going to give up on you, Jay. I’ll never let you go, okay?
Jay: Okay. Thank you. You’re all I’ve got.