Page 145 of Whispers and Wildfire
Guys would never do that. Dudes understood the iron-clad rules of the men’s room. In and out, no talking, and absolutely no eye contact.
The scent of popcorn wafted from the concession stand and the stadium lights lit up the field. It was a good game so far. Awesome to see Owen kicking so much ass. He’d been the first player in years to start varsity as a freshman, and as a sophomore, he was already their star running back. Theo was convinced he’d be college bound on a football scholarship.
I was a damn proud uncle. He wasn’t just a great football player, he was a great kid.
The group of girls came out, and my brow furrowed as the door shut behind them. Where was she? Maybe she washaving digestive issues. That would suck. No one wanted that in a public restroom. I’d have to see if she needed me to take her home where she could be more comfortable. Maybe put a heating pad on her stomach the way my mom used to have us do when we had stomachaches as kids.
But seriously, where was she?
I didn’t want to make it weird, but I was getting worried about her. I was pretty sure she had her phone with her, so I sent her a text, asking if she was okay.
No answer.
That didn’t necessarily mean anything. If her phone was in her purse, she might not hear it.
I waited another minute, fidgeting a pair of high school girls went in the restroom. They came out and still no Melanie.
Screw it. I went to the door, opened it, and stuck my head in. “Mel, are you in there?”
No answer.
“Melanie?”
“Um, excuse me?” a female voice said behind me.
Letting the door shut, I stepped aside. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She was probably around my age, with a long brown ponytail, glasses, and what looked like flecks of paint on her shirt. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Yeah, my girlfriend. She’s been in there a little longer than I expected. I don’t want to embarrass her or anything, but I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“What’s her name?”
“Melanie.”
“I’ll check for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” she said with a smile and went in.
Less than a minute later, she came out, her forehead creased with confusion. “There’s no one in there.”
My heart stopped dead in my chest. “What? Are you sure?”
“Positive. I checked every stall. They’re all empty.”
I barreled my way inside. “Melanie?”
“I’ll just guard the door, I guess,” the woman said behind me.
I ignored her, madly going from stall to stall, looking under each door, then opening them, as if somehow she’d be hiding with her feet out of view. But the woman was right, they were all empty. No one was by the row of sinks. I even checked the door to what was probably a supply closet, but it was locked.
There was one more door, on the far side, past the sinks. At first, I thought it must be another closet, but it opened. I stepped out and found myself on the other side of the building, facing a tall chain-link fence near the outskirts of the parking lot. There was an entrance to the lot, but not many people parked on that side since it was farther away from the bleachers.
My stomach dropped right through the ground at my feet, and I was seized with dread.
“Melanie? Are you out here?”
