(Spin-off of Imaginary, more so specifically it's second book, Severity)
Cleo Vexer, a problematic teenage girl, is the sensation of your average pessimist and mediocre criminal. Still having to survive the rest of her senior year bitter and lonely...
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"What do you mean she's missing?" I screech in worry.
"I mean she's missing, Vex." His voice is rushed and stressed. "I don't know where to find her."
My eyes drift to Winsley, her figure asleep on my couch. I shove my phone between my ear and my shoulder, walking to the kitchen. I grip my pen, ink scribbling quickly onto the sticky note as I try my best to comfort Caslon.
I'm going out. Caslon's sister is missing, be back when I find her.
I release the pen from my grasp, peeling the sticky note and placing it on the table in a visible spot for her to find.
The elevator ride feels excruciatingly long as my foot constantly taps anxiously. My phone beeps once again, which I learn to check immediately this time around.
Caslon: I've been searching all the main stops that I thought she'd be. Nothing yet.
Under the text is a list of places he went so I wouldn't waste time by checking there.
I make a quick dash to my car and turn on the engine. But that I start thinking to myself as my fingers tap the wheel: where would Riley be?
My mind runs through a million ideas but also no ideas at all. I purse my lips frustratedly, longing to think of something.
A thought comes to mind, and I insistently stick with it as I start driving.
My car stops in front of the Grey Park Bench, it being the only car there. I hop out of the car and grab the silver keys in my cup holder.
I walk into my room and there's no one there. The space is completely empty, not a thing out of place. I desperately pull back the curtain, like she'd just appear, but no luck.
I sigh and kick the chair closest to me. Frustration bursts through me as my first attempt to find her goes flat. My hands frantically run through my hair, unsure of where else to go.
It never occurred to me until now, but I didn't really know Riley as well as I ought to be. I didn't know what ice cream shop had her favorite flavors, I didn't know where she bought her favorite lip glosses, I just didn't know. I never thought to ask.
I sit back in the driver's seat of my car defeated, back to square one. I wanted to help Caslon and be the hero to find her, the hero Riley thought I was. But as I sigh with surrender and the loss of hope, there wasn't much heroism left in me. It was drained out by the first stop.
My phone rings abruptly, and at first, I think it's Caslon calling for updates on my half of the search. Surprisingly, it's Winsley. I have no idea how she woke up this soon to call me for whatever reason it may be, so I put the phone to my ear.
"Winsley?" I spoke.
"Hey Cleo, this is kind of important." Winsley's voice sounds stern and not at all drowsy like the last time we talked. "There's a girl at your door named Riley, and she's asking for you."
