How?I type.Did you track me?I remember the time I forgot to turn on airplane mode. My phone was online for at least two hours.
He reads my words. “We had Paul Hudson monitor your phone.”
I peer questioningly from him to Dad and notice how much they resemble each other—more so than I remembered.
Dad looks at me reproachfully. “Paul Hudson is an old friend of mine who used to work in the police force. He’s retired now. You didn’t seriously think we wouldn’t have someone looking for you! I just didn’t want everyone to know about it.”
Because of the rumors. Of course.
I was only with one boy, Dad. And I didn’t even sleep with him.
He reads it and nods briefly, which doesn’t indicate if he believes me.
“Paul owed Dad a favor. He was on to you,” James says now.
What?
“Once, he was able to pinpoint your whereabouts within five hundred feet, but when he got there, you—both of you—were gone. After that, your phone was offline for over a week.”
Dad clears his throat. “I met up with Paul in Heise. We’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
That was the week on the blue-green river. My heart flutters at the memory. But it also flutters because Dad drove to Idaho to look for me, as if I was important to him. Apparently, he didn’t take everything Chester said at face value.
“I was close to calling the police at the time, but then you got in touch again. It’s a long, long story, Kans...” Dad says weakly now.
Why are you here?I ask Dad. My phone was offline for most of the time in Las Vegas. And the short time I had it on in the forum, until now, wouldn’t have been enough time to get here.
“Ask James.”
Suddenly, I have a bad taste in my mouth.How did you know?I stretch out my arm with the phone in his direction.
“Can’t that wait?” he asks after reading my words. “We have completely different things to sort out, Kans. Tanner Davenport...” He pauses.
“Tanner Davenport is a sick young man,” my dad says, finishing the sentence.
I don’t want to hear that! I angrily hold my phone right in front of James’ eyes so that he can’t miss the wordHow. I’m so sick of everyone always ignoring me.
“Okay. Please put your arm down! I get it.” James sighs, and I drop my arm, noticing that he’s not swearing anymore. Slowly, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, taps the screen several times, and holds it under my nose.
I read the sentences one by one, confused. I wrote them myself:
Ending it won’t solve your problem!!! Your mom needs you! I’m in Vegas. At the Preston Hotel.
How did he get hold of Mr. Spock’s phone? I stare at the words, petrified, as their meaning finally registers.
I feel dizzy for a few seconds. That’s why he kept asking what was happening at my school. That’s why he wanted to know where we were. I shake my head several times. I’ve been writing to my brother the whole time. I can’t believe it. Everything—Mr. Spock’s story, Mr. X—it was a lie. His supposedly sick mom, his broken arm, everything was made up so that I would trust him and tell him details about myself. And I was worried and felt guilty!
A wave of hot anger washes over me. Why does everyone think they can do whatever they want with me? I feel like a stone being kicked down the street.
With a silent scream, I clench my fists and drum them against his chest.How! Could! You!For a moment, James stands there and endures my angry outburst. In reality, however, I’m not only angry at him but also at River, my mom, and Arizona.
“Kansas!” my dad warns, but I’m not paying attention to him. Arizona still doesn’t say anything, and that pisses me offeven more. Her silence, her rejection. Simply because she still believes I kissed that asshole Chester after she told me she liked him. I would never do something like that. Never. She should know that. We swore we would never leave each other. We were always there for each other. We collected beautiful and strange words.
As I hit even harder, James grabs my wrists and holds them firmly. “Okay, that’s enough now, Kans!” He sounds incredibly calm. But it’s not enough. I jerk my hands, trying to free myself, but he doesn’t let go.
At some point, I stop, breathless, and we stare at each other. “Calm down!” His dark brown eyes are clear and serious. For the first time in a long time, the old familiarity between us is back. The pain of losing Mom has always connected us, as well as our confusion about the world. Our inability to understand it. “What should I have done?” he asks quietly, releasing me. “You wouldn’t let anyone get close to you! Every time I attempted to get close to you, you built the walls even higher as if you had to keep a secret.”
Yes, I did! But it doesn’t give him the right to pretend to be someone else in order to spy on me. I want to shout at him, insult him, but I can’t get a word out. Of course.
