Chapter 18. Reed #2
Tessa’s starting to get antsy, since so far we’re coming up empty. She suggests we split up so she can go back inside to observe our former selves, while I keep an eye on the factory guys. I agree and remain behind, determined to catch Dave and his friends in the act.
At one point a fight breaks out with some other guys from town, possibly because one of them is dating Becca now. It’s hard to keep up. Still, at no point does anyone discuss getting even with our fathers, or plot to secretly poison us.
When the guys head indoors a couple hours later, one nursing a black eye from the fight over Becca, I follow them. Though I’m feeling less sure they’re our culprits.
As I arrive at the entranceway, I find Tessa. “Any luck?” I ask.
“No. You?”
“No.” I shake my head.
She taps my arm and nods toward the stairs. On the second-floor landing it’s us, the original us, from the night of the party. A couple hours in and we’re a hot mess. The old me has tripped on the stairs and we’re both in hysterics.
“I have no memory of this at all,” I say.
“Me, neither. After beer pong, everything’s a blur. Though …” She grimaces, watching as the other Tessa struggles on the landing to help then-Reed stand back up, before falling down herself. “We’ve been like this for a while.”
When Dave spots drunk Reed, he yells up to him, “Hey, we got a message for your old man. Why don’t you come down and hear it.”
The other Reed lifts his head, but his eyes struggle to focus on who’s speaking.
Rob steps onto the bottom stair, palms twitching, as if he’s ready to launch into another fight. The Tessa from the party tugs on my shirt in a panic and we scramble up the stairs.
“Yeah, keep running,” Rob shouts, but they don’t follow.
Tessa turns to me. “Were we just drunk, or did we seem more out of it than that?”
“It’s strange. It’s almost like I couldn’t tell who was talking to me.” I shift my weight, my agitation mounting. How could we miss something so critical? Are we already poisoned?
“Didn’t we hide in a closet for a while upstairs?” Tessa strains on her tiptoes but it’s unclear where we’ve run off to.
“I vaguely remember that.”
“So, who do we follow now? Do we go after ourselves or stay with Dave and his friends?”
“The factory guys obviously don’t like my stepdad, or me, but they didn’t chase us upstairs.”
She nods.
“And they made no mention of wanting to spike our drinks when we were outside.” Our deaths are just as big a mystery as before. I can tell Tessa’s starting to feel defeated, too.
“It’s seeming less and less likely it’s them.” She sighs.
“Maybe we go upstairs and watch some of the party we don’t remember?” I suggest with a shrug.
We trudge up to the second floor.
“Do you think it was premeditated, whoever killed us?” she asks.
“I mean, what’s the alternative? A crime of passion?”
Tessa tilts her head, wondering which seems more likely. “I guess in one instance someone came here with poison, a motive, and the intent to off us, and in the other, they decided in the moment and found whatever they needed here.”
I scan our surroundings. “But what kinds of poison are even here?”
Tessa pauses, hands on her hips, as we reach the landing. “How would I know? Do I look like I know the first thing about poison?”
“Uh … you knew about dilated pupils being a symptom and the whole toxic alkaloid thing. It’s more than me.” I snap my fingers, pointing at her, as if a lightbulb went off in my head. “Maybe it was you.”
“Yep. It was me all along. You’ve cracked the case. Dun dun dun.” She smacks me on the shoulder while I smirk beside her, then we both glance around, realizing that we’ve lost track of our former selves. “Where did we run off to?”
We poke our heads into the back bedrooms, stepping over the piles of plaster that have chipped off the walls.
“Wait, what about asbestos?” I ask. “It’s an old house.”
“Asbestos isn’t organic.” She leads us into the dusty corner room. “It also doesn’t kill you immediately.”
There’s no sign of us, only a chipped vanity and a window covered in creeping vines.
Which does give me an idea. “This place is crawling with greenery, though.” I can just make out the swim team’s chants as they build their pyramid out back.
How long have they been at that? “What about poison ivy, is that poisonous enough to kill?”
“No idea.” She shrugs. “Too bad we can’t google it.”
A closet door flies open, startling us. The other Reed and Tessa come hurtling out, falling to the floor and gasping. Or laughing. I can’t tell. We do not look good.
We’re pale and sweaty. The me from the party is moaning. While the other Tessa crawls out of the bedroom on her hands and knees and grabs some girl’s dress as she passes to beg for water. “I’m so thirsty.” The girl brushes her off.
Meanwhile, the old Reed has pulled himself into the second-floor bathroom to throw up.
Tessa covers her eyes with her fingers, save a small hole to peep through.
I wonder if she feels like I do, wanting to leave but unable to tear myself away.
“Oh God. I think this is it,” she says. “Look where you are. You’re in that bathroom where you died.
I don’t know what we missed, but this seems beyond being drunk. ”
I look at my former self. I’m clawing at my throat, my breaths strained and rasping. Even though I know it’s already happened, a sickening fear churns deep in my gut, an overwhelming desire to run.
Get out while you can.
The other Tessa has pulled herself up only to stagger forward and fall to the floor. People step around her. Someone snickers. Most people are distracted.
I feel helpless watching us struggle.
“Why is no one helping?” Tessa looks around in a panic, though there’s nothing we can do. We can observe our past, not change it.
“We probably just seem wasted.” I shrug but feel the color leaching from my face. There’s no casual way to watch yourself die.
“Something is clearly wrong with us, though. If only someone understood.”
“We should go.” I grab her wrist. “If we watch, we’ll never be able to unsee it.”
“Okay.” She follows me, then comes to a halt. “No. Wait—”
I look at her questioningly.
Tessa’s feet remain firmly planted, her eyes unfocused. “We’re missing something. It’s right at the edge of my mind.” She stares into the distance. “If only … someone … understood …”
She’s biting her lip again as the gears churn behind her eyes.
Except it’s hard to focus as the former Tessa begs for more water behind us. At least I think that’s what she’s saying. Her speech is so slurred at this point it’s difficult to tell. The Reed in the bathroom now seems completely unconscious.
“We need to go,” I say again. “Let’s think about this downstairs, where we don’t have to watch.” I start to walk away but Tessa’s hand shoots out, fingers digging into my arm. “Reed,” she gasps. “Look.”
I turn for one last peek. The poisoned Tessa has yanked herself up onto some guy’s jeans. When I catch his annoyed expression, my heart skids to a stop. An electric current of recognition charges through me.
“He’s still here.” Tessa’s voice comes out as a shaky breath.
It’s Creepy Carl. The college guy who dated Tilly. His red hair is tousled, but he doesn’t seem too shaken. He studies Tessa as she clings to his pants.
“Oh shit,” I say. “I thought that guy left.”
Carl kicks until she loses her grip and falls to the floor. No one notices.
“Why isn’t he calling 911?” I ask.
Poisoned Tessa crawls toward the large front windows and curls up in a ball as her muscles spasm.
“Carl studies plant pathology,” Tessa whispers beside me.
My eyes flare wide.
With a quick glance to make sure no one is near, Carl turns and races down the stairs.
“That pasty fucker,” I say as we watch him go. “Looks like we found our main suspect.”