Margo The Mystery Girl

Chapter 13

The next morning at school, I found Sunny standing beside the band door talking to Aisha, the Geek, and

Anjali in the shade of a tree with low-hanging branches. It was hard for me to listen as they talked

about Farewell, and about how Aisha was feuding with Sarthak or whatever. I was waiting for a chance to tell them what I’d seen, but then when I had the chance, when I finally said, “I took a pretty long look at the clue that she left for me,” I realized that there was nothing new to say, really.

No one even seemed that concerned, except Aisha. She shook her head as I talked about the DSOI, and then said, “I was reading online last night that people who are suicidal end relationships with people they’re angry with. And they give away their stuff. Margo gave me like five pairs of jeans last week because she said I could wear them better, which isn’t even true because she’s

so much more, like, curvy.” I liked Aisha, but I saw Margo’s point about the undermining.

Something about telling us that story made her start to cry, and Sunny put an arm around her, and she tucked her head into his shoulder, which was hard to do, because in her heels she was actually taller than him.

“Aisha we just have to find a location. I mean, talk to your friends. Did she ever mention paper towns? Did she ever talk about a specific place? Was there some subdivision somewhere that meant something to her?” She shrugged into Sunny's shoulder.

“Bro, don’t push her,” Sunny said. I sighed, but shut up.

“I’m on the online stuff,” The Geek said, “but her username hasn’t logged on to the apparent since she left.”

And then all at once they were back on the topic of prom. Aisha emerged from Sunny’s shoulder still looking sad and distracted, but she tried to smile as Sunny and the geek swapped tales of corsage purchasing.

The day passed as it always did—in slow motion, with a thousand plaintive glances at the clock. But now it was even more unbearable, because every minute I wasted in school was another minute in which I failed to find her.

I got a ride home with Sunny that afternoon and stayed at his house until he left to go pick up the Geek  for some pre-farewell party being thrown by our friend Jake, whose parents were out of town. Sunny asked me to go, but I didn’t feel like it.

I walked back to my house, across the park where Margo and I had found the dead guy. I remembered that morning, and I felt something twist at my gut in the remembering of it—not because
of the dead guy, but because I remembered that s h e had found him first. Even in my own neighborhood’s playground, I’d been unable to find a body on my own—how the hell would I do it
now?

I woke up early the next morning, just after eight, and went to the computer. Sunny was online, so I texted hi how was the prty to which he replied it was lame.

       Do you know what day it is? Asked Sunny

       Bro, farewell party starts in eleven hours and fourteen minutes. I have to pick Aisha up in less than nine hours. I haven’t even washed and waxed my car  yet, which by the way you did a nice job of dirtying up. Then after that I have to shower and shave

and trim nasal hairs and wash and wax myself. God, don’t even get me started. I have a lot to do. Listen, I’ll talk to you later if I have a chance.

I didn’t know what to say. He was right, maybe. My mom was still in bed, watching an old movie on TV. “Can I take the minivan?” I
asked.

“Sure, why?”