Lost & Found

This Can't Be Right

Dani’s POV

    "Dani, get up! You’re gonna be late for school!" I heard before groaning and opening my eyes.

    What is this? I thought as I caught sight of a newspaper that had been in my hand. The headline read: 'Possible Cimorelli Sighting?'

    'Cimorelli Sighting'? What the heck is that supposed to mean? Then I remembered last night. I was in a band with my sisters that I, for some reason, didn’t remember. My parents have cameras following them around. Then I thought for a minute.

    This isn’t possible. This is too farfetched. Last night was all a dream. I was never in a band. I don’t and will never have sisters. If I turn around, I will not see creepy surveillance cameras. I took a deep breath and turned around.

    Unfortunately, it seems that I was wide awake the whole time. I saw the same screens from last night. Only difference was that everyone was not in their rooms.

    I looked around the ground and picked up my forgotten homework from last night. Right as I was about to go upstairs, I was hit with a realization.

    What if my parents see me? I’ll be grounded for life if I get caught now. I stood and considered my options. My eyes roamed the room and found a window in the corner. If I crawled out that, I could get to my room without my parents ever knowing where I was. I checked my phone for the time. 6:39. Shoot, I’ll have to move fast.

    I hurried over to the window and tried to figure out how to get out. I somehow came up with the idea to take one of the unused tables and use it as a stepstool. I dragged it over and crawled through the window. I was glad that it led to the backyard because the neighbors would probably see me if I suddenly popped up in the front yard.

    I rushed to my bedroom window and pried it open. I've never been more grateful for the fact that I always forget to lock my window at night. I pulled myself through it and fell to the floor from my lack of balance. I straightened and shook off any existing aches from my less-than-graceful maneuvers.

    I quickly grabbed faded skinny jeans from my closet. I threw on a gray t-shirt and tied a dark blue flannel around my waist. I saw a dark bruise beginning to form on my arm and opted to instead just put the flannel on, hoping no one would see it. Especially not my parents.

~ * ~

    I arrived at school and immediately started searching the different groups for a certain senior: Lauren. I wanted to know if she’s had any odd experiences concerning Cimorelli. No… I needed to know. Unfortunately, my search fell short.

    Just then, I caught a glimpse of two freshmen, recognizing them as Lauren’s younger brothers. They should know where she is, right? I walked up to them and they looked at me, slightly stunned.

    "Hey, do I know you?” I asked one of them. I think his name is Tristen. “You look familiar. Do you have Advanced Algebra with Mr. Hulick for fourth period?”

    The one next to who I thought was Tristen replied, “Actually, you're thinking of me. My brother here probably can't even spell 'algebra.’”

    Not-Tristen slapped his brother on the back of the head, protesting, “Can too, Tristen! Just because I'm not in the class doesn't mean that I can't spell it.”

    “Prove it then,” Tristen challenged, forgetting I was there.

    “I don't need to prove anything, nerd,” Not-Tristen answered, also forgetting my presence.

    They continued to bicker back and forth, getting gradually louder. I could see glances from other people as they passed us.

    “Hey, guys?” I said, reannouncing my presence. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

    As if paused, they froze, Tristen stopping mid-sentence. The school seemed eerily quiet for a split second before returning to the usual chatter. Not-Tristen turned to me with rapt attention, asking, “What is it you want?”

    “I just wanted to know where your sister, Lauren, was,” I told them, internally crossing my fingers.

   “I didn't see her this morning,” Tristen answered. “I thought she might've left early with a friend or something.”

    “I don't know,” Not-Tristen groaned. “I didn't see her either. Why do you care anyway?”

    Hoping my Theatre class from last year paid off, I stated, “I'm with the Yearbook Committee and was hoping to get an interview with her before school started today.”

   “Interview for what? Lauren doesn't do any sports or clubs,” Not-Tristen contradicted. Even Tristen was starting to look a little suspicious.

    “Well, she's a senior,” I responded, beginning to feel jittery. “It's just an idea, but we want to interview seniors to hear their favorite moments from high school, since they'll be graduating.”

    Not-Tristen glared at me, trying to formulate some sort of judgment. I began to sweat.

   “That's cool,” Tristen decided, indirectly announcing that he believed me. “I'll text Laur and see where she is. If I get an answer, I'll get back to you in fourth period.”

    “That sounds good,” I told him, not believing my luck. “Thanks.”

    The morning bell rang, signaling the end of our conversation. The two of them left and I weaved my way through a bunch of people toward the front doors. I'm pretty sure no one would notice if I left.

    As grateful as I am that I found some way to possibly find Lauren, my gut was also telling me that she wasn't at school today. Even if I'm wrong and she's at school or she actually responds to her brother, I don't think I'd be able to wait that long for answers.