A Little Lost

Chapter Seventeen: In the Heat of the Night

LOUIE

Today marked the start of another school year, and with it, a new chapter of sophomore year for both Sandra and me. We were strolling down the corridor, Sandra excitedly recounting her European vacation. She kept pulling out her phone to show me pictures of breathtaking landscapes and vibrant city streets. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but my thoughts were scattered, caught between the anticipation of the new semester and the weight of lingering concerns.

As we walked, we spotted Derrick in the hall with a girl—the same girl from that night at the restaurant. My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met. For a brief moment, Derrick's expression softened, a hint of happiness in his gaze, but it quickly shifted back to a poker face.

Sandra broke the silence. "That girl is Stacey. She used to date Derrick."

My curiosity was piqued. "Looks like they're together now," I said, glancing back at them.

"They broke up a while ago," Sandra explained. "Derrick was with someone named Liza after Stacey. But Liza left Derrick, and nobody knows where she is now. Rumor has it she's dead."

"Dead?" I asked, surprised by the bluntness of the statement.

"Yeah, it happened about two years ago," Sandra said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "From what I heard, Liza was found dead in the forest. The police report claimed it was suicide."

"How do you know all this?" I inquired, my mind racing to piece together the fragments of the story.

Sandra smirked. "Duh, I have ears everywhere."

Her casual demeanor didn't mask the gravity of the information she'd just shared. As we continued down the corridor, the weight of the news hung between us, adding an unexpected layer to the first day of the new school year.

The day passed by in a blur of lectures and introductions, leaving me feeling a bit disoriented. Now, I found myself in Ian's car with him and Sandra. Sandra was her usual loud self, animatedly recounting her day and the various dramas she'd encountered. I barely registered her stories, my mind more focused on the awkward tension I felt around Ian.

I kept stealing glances at him, remembering the night we'd shared together. The memory was vivid and unsettling, a mix of confusion and excitement. Ian had been distant since then, and the lack of communication only amplified my unease.

When we reached Sandra and Ian's mansion, Sandra hopped out of the car with her usual flair, waving goodbye to me with a big, warm smile. I started to get out as well, but Sandra turned and said, "What are you doing? Kuya will drive you home."

"No, I can walk from here," I insisted, not wanting to impose.

Ian, however, chimed in with his usual teasing tone. "I insist."

I hesitated but ended up slipping back into the car.

" Come sit up front, you're making me look like a chauffeur."

Ian's playful banter was a bit of a relief, but the tension between us still hung thick. I slid into the front seat, trying to make myself comfortable while avoiding eye contact.

As we drove off, I could feel Ian's gaze occasionally darting towards me. I kept my eyes on the road, my nerves on edge. We hadn't talked about that night, and I wasn't sure how to approach it—or if I should.

"Louie, relax," Ian's voice broke through my thoughts. His hand brushed against my thighs, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine.

I flinched slightly, but the touch lingered, making me acutely aware of his proximity. "Please don't tell your sister about that night," I said, almost pleading. "She'll kill me."