Beneath the polaroid [BXB]

BENEATH THE POLAROID - 41 | How much more was to come

CALEB ROGERS HADN'T BEEN able to shake the image of Trent's body all morning. Even now, sitting in the cold, sterile police station, his leg bouncing anxiously under the table, the sight of it clung to him. He'd never seen a dead body before. Not like that. The stiff, lifeless form floating face-down in the pool, the water shimmering around it like some kind of sick halo. It was a sight that dug its way into your mind and refused to leave, no matter how hard you tried to blink it away.

His hands were still shaking as he stared down at the Styrofoam cup of coffee the officer had given him. The room was suffocating in its silence, save for the low hum of the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Caleb could feel the tension in his chest, an invisible weight pressing against his ribs, making it hard to breathe. He was just a regular kid—one who'd gone to a party to get drunk, maybe make out with some girl, and forget about school for a while. Not to stumble on something like that.

The door to the small room creaked open, and Detective Howard stepped inside, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. He was an older man, with deep lines carved into his face from years of work. He sat across from Caleb, the wooden chair groaning under his weight. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes studying Caleb as if he were some kind of puzzle that needed solving.

"Caleb Rogers, right?" Howard's voice was gravelly, weathered with age and too many late nights on the job.

"Yeah, that's me," Caleb replied, his throat dry as he forced the words out. He took a sip of the bitter coffee, hoping it would settle his nerves. It didn't.

Howard nodded, flipping open a small notepad and clicking his pen. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions, Caleb. Nothing to worry about. We're just trying to piece together what happened last night, alright?"

Caleb nodded, though his stomach twisted into knots. He wasn't sure how much he could help. He barely knew Trent, aside from the occasional nod in the hallways and maybe a few parties they'd both been to. But that didn't stop the dread from building inside him, making him feel like he was under some kind of microscope.

"You were at the party where Trent was last seen alive, correct?" Howard asked, his pen poised, ready to capture every word.

"Yeah, I was there," Caleb said, clearing his throat. "I mean, there were a lot of us there. It was just a regular party, you know? Until..."

"Until you found his body."

Caleb swallowed hard, the memory flashing before his eyes again—the water, the limp body, the panic that had spread like wildfire through the party as people realized what had happened. "Yeah. I... I didn't think anything was wrong at first. I thought he was just passed out or something. But when I got closer—"

"You realized he was dead."

The words hung in the air between them, cold and final. Caleb nodded slowly, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I didn't touch him or anything. I ran back inside to get someone—"

"Who did you tell first?"

"Uh, I think it was Joel. Yeah, Joel Warner. He came out with me, and then we started calling for help."

Howard scribbled something in his notebook, his eyes never leaving Caleb's face. "And you didn't notice anything unusual earlier in the night? No fights, no arguments?"

Caleb shook his head. "No, it was just a regular party. People drinking, dancing... It was loud, but nothing out of the ordinary. Trent was with his friends most of the time. I didn't see him wander off until later, and even then, I didn't think much of it."

Howard's pen paused, tapping softly against the notebook. "Trent was a well-known figure around school. Popular, a jock. Did he have any enemies that you know of?"

Caleb frowned, unsure how to answer. "Not really. I mean, Trent wasn't the nicest guy, but I don't think anyone hated him enough to... you know."

"Kill him."

The detective's bluntness made Caleb flinch, but he nodded all the same. "Yeah."

Howard leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking beneath him. He studied Caleb for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge whether or not the boy was telling the whole truth. "Alright, Caleb. I'm going to need you to stay available in case we have more questions. But for now, you can go. Just... don't leave town."

"Sure thing," Caleb said, eager to get out of the suffocating room and away from the detective's piercing gaze.

Howard stood, walking to the door and opening it. "Send in the next student, would you?"

Caleb nodded, his legs feeling weak as he pushed himself up from the chair. The hallway outside was lined with more students waiting to be questioned, their faces pale with fear and confusion. Caleb spotted William Carlisle sitting at the end of the row, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders.

"Hey, Will. Your turn," Caleb said, nodding toward the door.

William glanced up, and Caleb was taken aback by how different he looked. The blonde jock was usually the picture of confidence, always smiling, always in control. But now, he looked haggard, his eyes rimmed with dark circles that made him seem older, like he hadn't slept in days. The usual brightness in his green and silver eyes was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness that made Caleb feel... sorry for him.

"Thanks," William muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

Caleb watched him for a moment longer, unsure what to say. Part of him wanted to offer some kind of comfort, but what could he say? William had just lost two of his closest friends in the span of a week—first Ethan, now Trent. Caleb couldn't even begin to imagine what that felt like.

"You holding up okay?" Caleb asked awkwardly.

William gave a half-hearted shrug, not meeting his gaze. "Just trying to get through it, man."

Caleb nodded, understanding that there wasn't much more to say. He gave William a tight-lipped smile before turning to leave. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with William. The guy wasn't just grieving—there was something deeper, something darker lingering beneath the surface. But Caleb brushed it off, figuring it was just the stress of everything that had happened.

He had no idea how much more was to come.