TWENTY-ONE
J ay leaves for his mother’s early on Sunday, but I wake up to text him another not a goodbye before he leaves. I don’t want him to go to Scarborough all day. I want him to stay right here with me, so I know he’ll be fine. Still, I understand why he needs to go. If we can’t save him from whatever will happen tonight, then he might not see his family again.
He seems more optimistic now than last night, at least.
Jay: Talk to you around six.
Aleeza: Okay. I’ll be here waiting. Make sure you come back.
Jay: Don’t worry. I’ll always come back for you.
In the afternoon, I’m working on the script for the next podcast episode when there’s a knock on my door.
I open it to find Gracie and Aster. Gracie grins at me with excitement. “Nat spotted Jack at the Laundromat.”
“He’s doing laundry?” Does Jack really do his own laundry?
“He’s not really doing laundry ,” Aster explains as she walks into my room and sits on my desk chair. She’s in workout pants and soccer shirt. “Laundromat is a secret bar. Like a speakeasy.”
I laugh. “Seriously?” We are not in the 1920s ... why are there speakeasies in the city?
“It’s not a real speakeasy,” Gracie explains. “Just a secret place.”
“You know the Laundromat near the park?” Aster asks. “There’s a beaded curtain in the back. Through there is a dive bar. Well, not really a dive bar—it’s expensive as sin.”
“It’s where rich people go to pretend they’re slumming,” Gracie adds.
“That’s nuts.”
Aster nods. “My people are weird. We should go now, before he leaves.”
I’m supposed to stay in all day in case Jay shows up, but I also need to talk to Jack. I give Gracie a pointed look. “I need to be back here at six.”
She nods. “ I know. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Here,” Aster says, pulling something out of her backpack and handing it to me. “Put this on. It’s a voice recorder. Ontario only requires single-party consent for voice recording, so you can record any conversation you’re participating in—just in case he says anything useful.”
It’s a silver chain with a large black crystal pendant. I put it around my neck. “Why do you have this?”
“I bought all sorts of spy gadgets when we started.” Aster’s grinning like a kid telling me what she got for her birthday. “I’m excited we’re finally using something. I have a burner phone, too, if you need it.”
After she shows me how to turn the pendant on, we head out of the building. It’s a fifteen-minute walk to the bar. Thankfully, it’s not very cold out, so I’m okay with just my bulky sweater. I really hope winter is finally over. When we get to the Laundromat, I realize I have seen this place many times before, but since I do my laundry in the residence, I never thought twice about it. I had no idea it was really a rich students’ hangout.
Inside, the Laundromat looks like ... a Laundromat. And smells like one too. A wall of stainless-steel heavy-duty washers and dryers runs along one side, and a counter lines the other. There’s even a person loading clothes into a dryer, and someone else folding. Aster guides us to the back, where a pink plastic beaded curtain covers a doorway. After passing through the beads, we head down a flight of stairs and through another hallway. Eventually we reach a door that looks like an old-timey saloon door from cowboy movies.
The space beyond it looks exactly like Mia’s grandmother’s basement. Fake wood paneling. A makeshift bar on one side. Old video game systems. And a pool table. All in all, not the kind of place I thought I’d end up in on a Sunday afternoon. There are about fifteen people down here, all around our age, and it smells like fabric softener and weed.
“Seriously?” I ask. “This is where the other half hangs out?”
“Not me,” Aster says. “I don’t believe in enjoying things ironically.” She looks around, frowning. “Weirdly empty today.”
It’s a Sunday afternoon. How many people are normally in a bar? Again, I’m reminded of how enormously I don’t fit in with this crowd.
“There,” Aster says, pointing to the back of the room. Jack is alone in a booth, a bottle of beer next to him. It’s strange—I thought he was extremely good-looking the first time I saw him. But now? He looks ... deflated. Defeated too. His hair isn’t gelled back, and he has circles under his eyes. He’s in a suit again, this one pale gray, with a paisley shirt underneath. He looks up and sees us coming toward him. I can’t tell if his expression is full of disappointment or if he was expecting us. I wonder how much of his drug use is guilt because of what he did to Jay. At least he’s feeling remorse, I guess. I discreetly turn on the voice recorder before we approach him.
“Aster, you brought these two to the Laundromat? Seriously? You must find a hobby other than corrupting young minds.”
“I’m surprised you remember us,” Gracie says. “You were pretty out of it at your party.”
He looks up at me. “I would never forget you . My little octopus girl. Apologies if I was inappropriate at my party.”
“Can we talk for a second?” I ask. “About something you said to me that night.”
He sighs. Loudly. “I knew this was coming. Yeah, sit.” He looks at Gracie and Aster. “Do you mind if I talk to her alone? I’d rather not have an unnecessary audience for my potential downfall.”
I frown. Gracie looks like she doesn’t want to leave me, but with others around, I’m not sure Jack will be honest. At his party he was way more open when it was just the two of us. This is why I’m the one wearing the voice recorder.
“C’mon,” Aster says, pulling Gracie by the arm. “They have an old Super Nintendo here. Let me smoke your ass at Super Mario Bros .”
I slide into the seat opposite Jack. “Why did you know this was coming?”
He shrugs. “Gut instinct. I talked to you a lot that night—I’m sure I said something I shouldn’t have.”
I frown. “Do you often have gut instincts ?”
“All the time. They can be eerily accurate. My mom calls me a fortune teller.” He runs his hand over his hair.
My eyebrows raise. I remember back to the cryptic things he said that night. Was Jack seeing the future?
“I don’t know how you remember your party so well,” I say. “You were drunk. And stoned.”
“I usually am.”
“Are you now?”
“Am I what?”
“Under the influence of anything?”
He holds up the dark-brown bottle of beer. “No, it’s taken me almost an hour to drink about a quarter of this. I doubt I’ll finish it.”
“So, where’ve you been for the last few days, then? We’ve been looking for you.”
“The siren call of Wanderlust .” He takes a sip of beer, makes a face, then pushes it away.
“That’s your boat, right?”
He nods. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking at the table instead.
I take a deep breath. “Jack, why do you think you talked too much at your party?”
“I shouldn’t be trusting anyone.” His eyes still don’t meet mine.
There is something so sad, so broken about Jack today. I remember what Jay said—that Jack has his own demons.
But then I remember that he may be responsible for Jay’s death. He may not deserve my sympathy. I’m only here to get answers.
“You did trust me,” I say. “I mean, I was drunk and stoned that night, too, but the one thing I do remember is you saying ‘Wanderlust shouldn’t kill anyone.’ I thought you meant Jay had wanderlust, like he wanted to travel or something, but now I know you meant your boat. I also know that once last year you took Jay and a bunch of others on a midnight cruise on the Wanderlust .” I pause, leaning forward, trying to put a trusting look on my face. “Jack, did you take Jay on another cruise in the fall? The night he went missing?”
Jack doesn’t say anything. Instead, he picks up his beer and takes a long sip. So much for not finishing it.
Finally, he looks at me. “Are you going to turn me in to the police?” he asks.
“I want to know what happened first.”
“You have such a trusting face ... You should do this for a living.” He exhales. “The truth might be a bit blurry.”
“You were high, weren’t you? The night Jay disappeared.”
He shakes his head. “Not intentionally. I don’t drink and sail. Or do anything at all and sail. But for some reason, it’s still blurry.”
“So you were on something.”
He shrugs. “I practically grew up on boats ... I may be a reckless dick in every other part of my life, but I take water safety seriously. When they called asking if we could have a little boat tour that night, I told them no. My boat couldn’t leave the club because I was too wasted. But I said they were welcome to come hang out on the boat—we just wouldn’t be sailing. I switched to Gatorade anyway just in case because safety first. But ... something happened that night. Things got weird. Foggy. I blacked out on the boat. I don’t remember much until the screams woke me up.”
Screams? My fist clenches. “You were at the marina?”
“No. On the lake. Open water.”
“Who called you? Who was on the boat with you?”
He exhales. “Lance called me. It was Lance and Jay.”
I exhale. Lance. Mia’s boyfriend. Fuck.
“Why did you pass out? What did you take?”
He shakes his head. “I told you I didn’t take anything. I think someone spiked my Gatorade.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s awfully convenient. Did you see either of them tamper with your drink?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you how it happened. I just remember feeling ... strange. Not drunk, but really gone.”
I’m not sure I should believe Jack. “When did Lance call you? What did he say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe around six that night? Lance said he and Jay were looking for something to do, and would I be interested in taking them for a little boat ride? His dad has a boat at the club, too, but Lance’s dad’s an asshole.”
I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around Lance being there. “Did you actually see Jay get on the boat? How did he look? Was anyone else with them?” There is no way Jay would have willingly climbed into that boat. Maybe he was drugged too?
“I ... only remember them.” He looks up with a distant look in his eyes. “I remember Jay’s coat and Lance’s douchey backward hat. It’s there, but foggy.”
“So, Jay might not have been on the boat, the—”
Jack shakes his head. “He was there. I found his boots on my deck the next day. Doc Martens. I tossed them in the water.”
I inhale. The boots Jay told me he always wears. “Why didn’t you tell the police this?”
“Lance told me not to. Said we’d both get into a world of trouble. Told me if I said something, he’d turn me in for boating under the influence.”
“Was it Jay who screamed?”
His voice is small. “I don’t know.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Lance. Mia’s boyfriend is the one. He threw Jay overboard on Jack’s boat. Jay even screamed.
But why?
I now know what happened to the Jay from my timeline. The one who hasn’t been seen for months. But have I done enough to prevent it from happening in Jay’s timeline?
“What exactly did Lance say happened?”
“He said it was an accident. We were all drinking vodka and I passed out. He and Jay were fooling around, and Jay fell overboard. There were empty bottles on the deck. A lot.”
I inhale sharply. Maybe that’s exactly what happened. Just boys being dumbasses.
“Why would Jay have taken his boots off?” I ask. I remember Jay telling me he wouldn’t be able to swim in them.
He shrugs, looking down at his hands. “I wouldn’t have let someone on my boat with boots. She’s new.”
That made sense. And it was cold that night, so Jay would have kept his wool coat on.
“You should have done something when you sobered up,” I say. “Told the police. Maybe they could have rescued him from the water.”
He shakes his head. “It was November. The water was pitch black. No one could have survived in it very long. Even a good swimmer. But ...”
“But what?”
His face falls. “I did want to report it the next day. But Lance said he would ruin my life. He’s got a lot on me. He was so sure we’d never be caught. I’m on thin ice with my parents. I’d get kicked out of school. And he said everyone would be fine.” He looks up at me. “But Jay’s not fine, is he?”
“Lance was blackmailing you. I thought you were friends.”
Jack snorts. “Known Lance forever . Wouldn’t trust him with my pet hamster. There are no friends. Not really.” He looks down at his now-empty beer bottle. “So much for nursing this drink. I want another.”
“You should quit drinking.”
He glares at me. “Yeah, I am well aware of what I should do.”
I exhale. This is a lot to take in, and so much of it doesn’t add up. “Do you think it was an accident?” I ask. “Or did Lance intentionally throw Jay overboard?”
He shrugs, but he doesn’t defend Lance.
“Jack, do you know if Lance was behind that whole Birdwatcher stuff?”
He shrugs again. “I honestly have no idea who that was.”
Could it have been Lance? I wonder who else knows that Lance was with Jay on a boat that night. Bailey Cressman? His sister, Taylor?
Or maybe even Lance’s own girlfriend, my oldest friend in the world, Mia?
“So what now?” Jack asks. He points to my necklace. “You recorded that whole conversation. You going to report me to the police now?”
I exhale and turn off the voice recorder. Of course he knew what I was doing. I should go straight to the police with this information. Jay was on Jack’s boat and went overboard. And Lance brought him there.
But I don’t know if I should trust Jack. He’s admitted that he’s drunk more than sober. And his memories of the night are foggy. I look at the time. It’s past four. Jay will be back in the room soon. I need to be there when he gets home so I can tell him it’s Lance. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere with Lance tonight.
But also ... I need Lance’s motive. I need to find if this was a random dumbass accident, or if Lance killed Jay on purpose. Because if it was on purpose, if it was for that trust or for another reason, Lance will only try again if Jay doesn’t go with him tonight.
“Two days,” I say. That’ll give me time to investigate Lance to see if this was intentional. “You report it to the police, or I will. I’ll even come with you if you want, but let’s wait until Tuesday. In the meantime, say nothing to anyone about this conversation. Deal?”
He looks up at me, eyes wide. “You’ll seriously come with me?”
I nod. I don’t trust Jack, but I remember what Jay said—Jack has his demons, but Jay trusted him. “Yeah, I got you.” I reach toward him with my right hand, my smallest finger out. “Pinkie swear.”
He curls his finger around mine. “Okay,” he says.
We will get justice for present Jay. But before that, I need to make sure past Jay stays safe and alive .
It’s five by the time we get back to East House. Jay isn’t on ResConnect yet. I put on sweatpants and my octopus sweatshirt, grab my computer to watch a movie, and sit on Jay’s bed, now my favorite place to sit in the room. I don’t want to investigate Lance yet—I need to talk to Jay first. So, I wait.
But Jay doesn’t turn up at five thirty.
He’s not here at six either. Maybe there was traffic on the subway? Or maybe he’s here, in the building, but not in the room yet.
He’s not here at six thirty. By six forty-five, my heart is pounding heavily in my chest. At seven, my hands are shaking.
At seven thirty, I squeeze Tentacle Ted, begging my octopus to tell me where Jay is. But Ted knows nothing.
With tears falling down onto my chest, I text Gracie.
Aleeza: He’s not here. He’s gone, Gracie. We didn’t save him.