Eighteen Grace
I feel horrible for blowing off my plans with Geny, but I can’t leave this café. Not yet. I met up with Brooke an hour ago. I expected maybe thirty minutes of talking and then I’d go back to Geny’s and we’d have our walk. But Brooke blew that out of the window.
“The Raven police covered up my sister’s death,” she said.
“Why would they do that?”
She shrugs. “You tell me.”
I look at her with wide eyes. “How would I know?”
She pushes air out her nose with a smirk. “Oh, I don’t know. Because they did the same thing to you. Only you didn’t die. So you know something you’re not supposed to and I want to know what that is.”
I lean back in my chair. “Whoa now. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She tilts her head. I stay silent and keep a straight face. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t know what happened to Morgan, but it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to me. It can’t.
Can it?
Sure, she disappeared into the water too, but that isn’t exactly strange.
The lake is dangerous and it’s taken more than a few lives over the years.
But that’s where the commonalities end. Brooke is a grieving sister looking for answers, and I don’t fault her at all for that.
I don’t even doubt that there’s something sketchy about either her death or the way it was handled.
It just doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to me, and I tell her so.
“I think you’re wrong,” she says. “But it’s fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”
She stands up to leave.
“Wait,” I say. She looks at me expectantly and she sits back down. “I’m not bullshitting you when I say I don’t think what happened to your sister and what happened to me have anything to do with each other.”
She moves to get right back up, so I keep going.
“But I don’t doubt there’s more to the official story or that Raven PD are hiding something. I can help.”
I don’t know why I say it. I have enough on my plate with trying to figure out the truth about my dad and make some things right with what happened to me. But I’m no private investigator or hardened detective. I’m getting in over my head and I know it.
“I’ll text you. I have to go,” she says.
No thank-you. Just gets up and leaves. I sit back in my chair and reach for my coffee.
There’s no way this will come back to bite me in the ass.
Brooke is just as intense as Morgan used to say she was.
Maybe even more so. But Morgan also said she was level-headed.
If she thinks something is weird with her sister’s death, then I believe her.
I think back to that time. Sophomore year. It was a weird time from what I can remember. Geny and I weren’t getting along. We had those phases. I leaned into cross-country, and she leaned into her church groups. We made up later that year. Not that we’d been fighting about anything in particular.
Morgan had joined cross-country late. But our team was as small as our town, so coach let her in. I was tasked with helping to get her up to speed. Figuratively and literally. I didn’t mind. I was bored and it felt nice to have a project to focus on.
It wasn’t long before Morgan started to join me on my runs outside of school.
Wyatt usually ran with me, but I asked him not to so I could focus on training Morgan.
I remember being annoyed that he seemed upset about it.
He didn’t even like running and only went so I wouldn’t be alone.
And we’d been spending so much time together lately. I thought we could use a little space.
A voice brings me back to the present. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
I look up to see Murphy, Wyatt’s best friend. Or at least he was. I wonder if they’re still as close.
“Always the flatterer,” I say.
He smirks and, just like at the funeral, I can’t help but notice how much he’s changed.
“What are you doing out all alone?” he asks.
“Now you sound like the creepy guy from an old Western movie moving in on the scared woman alone in the street in the big poofy dress.”
He laughs. “Except you’re Grace Chandler and you’re not scared of anything.”
“No contest on being the creepy guy. Interesting.”
His smile grows, and I feel my face get warm. Am I flirting with Murphy Hanlon?
I clear my throat and stand up. “I was just leaving. Geny’s waiting on me at her place.”
Murphy nods. “I’m surprised she let you out of her sight so soon after coming back from the dead.”
“She was a little less than willing.”
“I’m sure you’re super busy,” he says, “with whatever zombies like you get up to. But if you have some time, we should get together for old time’s sake.”
I laugh. “Did you always talk like a cowboy?”
“What are you talking about, woman?” His eyes are wide and he’s open mouth grinning. “I talk like a normal human.”
“Sure,” I say with a laugh.
I don’t know why his use of words remind me of a Western film, but it only makes him that much more attractive to me. Naturally, I make fun of it because I flirt like a middle schooler.
“I’d like that. Getting together ‘for old time’s sake.’” I use my best Southern accent for the last part, which cracks him up and makes me feel a little proud for making him laugh.
“I’ll give you my number,” he says.
I tap it into my phone and tell him I’ll text him soon.
“I should get going. Geny is probably having a meltdown with me being gone for so long.”
He nods at me. “Good luck with that. See you.”
I walk out to my car with my coffee in hand and a dumb smile on my face.
I force my lips back to a natural resting place and scold myself as soon as I shut my door.
What am I doing? I don’t have time for whatever the hell that just was.
And with Murphy Hanlon of all people! He’s the burnout who hung out with high school kids and got high all the time. Not exactly pining material.
I start my car and drive toward Geny’s house.
I can already sense her anger like a radio signal I’ve always been tuned in to.
I’ve always been able to feel her anger, and I know a lot of times it was pointed at me.
I pretended not to notice back then. She didn’t like confrontation, and I was afraid to hear the cross words of someone who knew me better than anyone else. It worked for both of us.
As I pull into the driveway, I battle with myself. Is it better to pretend like we always have? Or do I face it head-on and force both of us to acknowledge the anger. I’d like to face it, but it might lead to questions I can’t answer.