They Just Don't Know You

Chapter 31

Perrie's POV

Monday, October 7

Somehow, we're supposed to still go to school. 

"There's nothing you can do," Mom keeps repeating this morning. She puts an overfilled bowl of Cheerios in front of me on the kitchen island, even though I never eat cereal. "Nothing is confirmed about Ellie. We have to think positive and act normally."

The message might go over better if she didn't pour coffee into my Cheerios while she's saying it. She doesn't notice, and when she turns I grab milk off the island and top off the bowl. It's not the worst thing I've ever eaten. Plus, I got back from Officer Elliott's an hour ago and didn't bother trying to sleep. I could use the caffeine.

"I'm not going," Leigh says flatly.

Mom eyes her nervously. John's gone, already left for work, and she's never been good at standing up to Leigh. "Your father would-"

"Understand," Leigh says in the same monotone voice. She's in the same hoodie and athletic pants she wore last night, her hair pulled back into a low, messy ponytail. There's a plate of strawberries in front of her, and she keeps cutting one into smaller and smaller pieces without putting any of it into her mouth. "Anyway, I'm sick. I threw up this morning."

"Oh, well, if you're sick." My Mom looks relieved at the excuse, and turns towards me with more confidence. "You, on the other hand, need to go."

"Fine by me." I'm good with being anywhere Leigh's not. If she hadn't played sick, I would have. There's no way I can sit in a car with her this morning. Especially not her car. More and more, it's sinking in that if Leigh did half the things we think she might have, chances are good she ran down Mr Hughes and left him to die in the street. And that's just for starters. I grip my cereal spoon more tightly as I watch her methodically start cutting up a second strawberry, and it's all I can do not to reach out and smash everything on her plate into a pulp.

All this waiting is a nightmare. Especially when you know you're going to hate whatever answer comes. 

Mom smooths a hand over her bathrobe. "I'm going to take a shower, unless either of you need anything?"

"Can I take your car?" I ask.

She smiles distractedly on her way to the stairs. "Yes, of course." And then she's gone, leaving Leigh and I alone in the kitchen. There's no sound except the clink of my spoon against the bowl and the loud ticking of the clock on the wall.

I can't handle it for even five minutes. "I'm leaving early," I say, getting up and dumping my half finished coffee cereal in the garbage disposal. When I turn, Leigh is staring straight at me, and I'm struck silent by the cold blankness in her eyes. 

"Why don't you just walk to school?" she asks. "You like walking, don't you?"

Fuck. She knows I followed her last night. I got too close on the way home.

"Who doesn't," I say tersely. I reach for Mom's keys on the kitchen island, but before I can pick them up, Leigh lays a hand over them. She regards me with the same cool stare. 

"You're not as smart as you think you are."

"And you're not sick." To your stomach, anyway. I pull the keys from beneath her hand and grab my backpack off the floor. I don't want her to see how rattled I am, so I look away, even though I'd like one last chance to read her expression.

What do you know? What did you do?

I drive to school in a haze, almost missing the entrance. It's so early that I have my pick of spots in the parking lot. I cut the engine but keep the radio on, searching for a news station. NPR is talking politics and all the local shows are breaking down the Patriots' come-from-behind win yesterday, so I pull out my phone and search the Burlington Free Press site. There's a blurb at the bottom of the Metro section: Police investigate human remains found on an abandoned property in upper Huntsburg.