Phantom [h.s]

Twenty

It turns out that my mother came barging into my room because one of the little boys in her first grade class ate a frog, of all things. She goes on about how being a teacher is tiring and frustrating at times and that I should always appreciate my teachers because they work so hard for me.

I'm more preoccupied with the fact that I was almost kissed by a dead boy again. A dead boy who I'm supposed to be helping find his killer. A dead boy who could have been killed by someone I go to school with, or anyone else in this damn town.

I nod to my mother as she continues to rant about Peter, the boy who ate the class pet. Apparently he didn't ingest it, he just held it in his mouth for a few seconds before deciding that frogs don't taste that great.

"So he spat it out onto the ground and caused about ten little girls to scream," she says. "I'm surprised the frog survived all of this. That little amphibian was a real trooper."

"I'm sure." I look over my shoulder out the window.

"Something wrong? You seem a little distracted."

I was kissed by a dead boy two nights ago!

"Nope," I say, quickly turning to look back at her. "I'm great."

She frowns, standing and walking over to me. She presses a palm to my forehead.

"You're really cold," she muses, furrowing her brow.

I was almost kissed by a dead boy right before you came in here!

"I was standing in front of the fridge deciding what to eat," I lie easily. She knows this is something I do when I'm indecisive about snack foods.

"Oh." She removes her hand. "Motherly worrying is all." She kisses my cheek. "I'm going to start on dinner."

I nod and she walks out of the room, conveniently forgetting to shut the door behind her.

I huff and walk over to close it.

I begin to think about what I heard at the library earlier today. Who was Max threatening? What does his father do? Why did he sound so malicious?

I grimace, realizing I don't know Max's last name so I can't Google him. I don't know his father's name, either, so that's a bust.

However, I know Harry's last name.

I grab my laptop from my desk and sit on my bed, turning it on and waiting for it to boot up.

I quickly pull up Google when it's done starting up.

Harry Styles, I type into the search bar.

Search results pop up shortly.

The first link is to what seems to be Harry's old Facebook page. Not knowing exactly what to expect, I click on it.

His profile picture is a photo of him with his arm around Ava, a satisfied smirk on Ava's red lips. His face is relaxed in an easy smile, his dimples showing. They look like they were dressed for some sort of formal event, with Harry in a black dress shirt and slacks and Ava in a thigh length red dress.

His last status update was from June 7, 2013. The day before he died.

The post is a reply to someone else's post to him from that same day.

Max Williams: Excited for the party mate!!

Harry Styles: Can't wait. It's going to be sick!

So there was a party on June seventh. Could something have happened there that led to Harry's death on the eighth?