Being Neighborly

Chapter 43

The ride to school is quiet.

Homeroom is quiet.

The rest of my classes leading up to lunch is quiet. 

Or maybe it just seems that way to me. In reality, everyone is talking about where Katy could be. She's absent again and hasn't sent in a doctor's note or had her parents call in for her. All of her social media has been erased. It was as if she never existed. But she did. 

To me, however, the world is silent. I am drowning out all the noise about Katy, the carnival, midterms, and whatever else is going on. The only thing I can focus on is the email I received this morning. 

It came from another throw away account. No cryptic message. Just an attachment. Another picture of me and Carter. Only this time it was worse. No cups of alcohol or pill bottles in the background. Not a hazy, red eye to be seen. 

Just me on a bed. Passed out on a pile of jackets. And Carter smiling in the foreground of the selfie. Across the picture, before he had scanned it, he had written something. It's smudged, but legible enough for it to send shivers down my spine.

I told you bad things would happen if you didn't slow down.

I have been numb ever since. He knew. He set the whole thing up. He did that to me. And then denied the whole thing ever happened. 

Tristan seemed a bit somber as well on our ride to school together. No witty comments were thrown at me during class or in the hallway. I could see the gears turning in that brilliant head of his and I want to know what's going on up there. But my words and energy have been stolen by that picture, so I remain with my own thoughts.

Lunch time rolls around and Nate slaps four tickets down onto the table. 

"I thought you were getting five," Nicole huffs. "How the hell is my girlfriend going to get in?"

"Will you relax," her brother breezily takes a seat next to her. "I got these yesterday and gave Chloe's to her at the salon."

"So you've been meeting with my girlfriend behind my back?" Nicole teases. 

"Will you stop being gross for one second and thank me for getting us these tickets?"

"What are they for?" I finally speak for the first time today. I haven't told any of my friends about the email yet, so they seemed shocked when I walked into the school they way I had. Now, they were smiling as usually, thinking nothing of my first words of the day.

"I thought we could use a little fun, an escape away from all the drama we've been dealing with and a treat for studying so hard," Nate stands up from his seat dramatically in the middle of his speech. He swipes the tickets from the table and raises them above his head triumphantly. "We are going to the carnival!"

"The school fundraiser one?" I question him, raising an eyebrow. "That's your idea of fun?"

"Okay, Leila, I'm going to give you a pass since you're still technically the new girl here," Nate says, reclaiming his chair at our table. "Haven't you noticed why no one has been volunteering to run booths at the carnival? It's because everyone wants to attend without having to do work. This school really puts in the work for this thing every year and it's super fun. So I'm going to need you to take your crappy attitude and walk it out the door because it was extremely difficult to get these tickets days before the carnival."

"Thanks, Nate," Tristan speaks for me. "It'll be fun." There isn't much excitement behind his words, but it's understandable considering what happened last night.

I wonder what happened after I had left his house. Did his dad try to call him back? Did Tristan try calling him? Does his mom know that Brian was trying to contact them? There are so many questions I want to ask him, but it's not the right time. It never seems like it's ever the right time with Tristan.

"Leila, we need to discuss outfits for the carnival," Nicole's voice interrupts my wandering thoughts.

"Outfits?" I ask confused. "Are jeans and a normal shirt not acceptable?"

"The carnival is one of the most aesthetic events that happens in this town, aside from the holiday village," she explains. "I need a new picture for all my social media accounts!'

I smile at my friend and just nod. Sometimes I forget that we're teenagers and this is what we're supposed to be worrying about. A new profile picture, not revenge-seeking ex-best friends. Outfits to wear in order to impress your crush, not plotting to take over an entire business out from under your dad. The end of midterm season quickly approaching, not mysterious disappearances of class presidents.

Maybe it's about time our group takes a break from our double lives and starts to enjoy being teenagers while we still can.