They Just Don't Know You

Chapter 23

Perrie's POV

Thursday, October 3

By Thursday, search parties for Ellie aren't limited to school hours anymore. There's one this afternoon, covering the woods behind the Pinnock's house. John's a volunteer captain, and when I get home from band practice he's loading a cardboard box filled with flyers, bottled water, and flashlights into the back of his Range Rover.

"Hello, Perrie." He doesn't look at me as I get out of Mom's Volvo. Just brushes his palms together as though they're dusty. I'm sure they aren't. John's car is as pristine as everything the Pinnock's own. "How was school?"

"Same." In other words: not good. "When are we leaving?"

John crosses his arms, displaying razor-sharp creases in the sleeves of his shirt. "We are leaving in ten minutes," he says. The emphasis is clear, but when I don't respond he adds "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come, Perrie."

My heart sinks. "Why?" It's a pointless question. I know why. Officer Oxlade-Chamberlain has been back twice already to ask me follow-up questions.

John's nostrils flare. "Emotions are running high right now. You'd be a distraction. I'm sorry. I know that's hard to hear, but it's the truth, and our first priority is finding Ellie."

MY temper spikes. "I know. I want to help."

"The best way you can help is to stay here," John says, and my palms itch with an almost irresistible desire to punch the smug look off his face. I'm sure he's genuinely concerned, and he might even be right. But he gets off on being the hero, too. Always has. 

He claps a hand on my shoulder, quickly, like he's killing a bug. "Why don't you go inside and see if there's anymore water in the fridge? That would be helpful."

A vein above my eye starts to throb. "Sure," I say, swallowing my anger because getting into a pissing match with John isn't going to help Ellie.

When I get inside, I hear the staircase in the foyer creak. I'm hoping for my Mom, but it's Leigh with a heap of red fabric hanging over her arm, followed by Jesy. Leigh freezes when she sees me, and Jesy almost bumps into her. Both my their faces harden into the mask of dislike I've been seeing everywhere since Sunday. 

I make an effort to act like I normally would. "What's that?" I ask, gesturing towards Leigh's arm.

"My homecoming dress," she snaps.

I eye the dress with a feeling of mild dread. I've been trying to block out the face that homecoming is Saturday. "It's weird they're still having that." Leigh doesn't reply, and I add, "What are you doing with your dress?"

"Your Mom's going to have it pressed." She gives me a wide berth as she makes her way into the kitchen. It's nice, I guess, that my Mom does stuff like that for Leigh. John says Leigh's own mother hasn't responded to any of his calls all week, other than to text something about bad cell reception in the South of France. There's always some excuse.

When she's finished arranging the dress, Leigh stares at me with glacial brown eyes. "I'd better not see you there."

Somehow, Leigh doesn't make me angry like John does. Maybe because I know she's barely eaten or slept since Ellie went missing. Her cheeks are hollow, her lips chapped, her hair in a messy ponytail. "Leigh, come on," I say, my palms spread wide. The universal gesture of a girl who has nothing to hide. "Can we talk about this? What have I ever done to make you think I'd be capable of hurting Ellie?"

She presses her lips together, nostrils flaring slightly. For a second she looks exactly like John. "You were involved with her and didn't tell anyone."