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Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteenth

The sky was darker than dusk outside, yet brighter than it would be had evening fully set in. Instead of navy, or spectacular orange; a brownish, murky hue engulfed my street when I closed the door behind me. Its sickly aspect unnerved me further.

I took a deep breath, tucked my hands into my pockets - for a chilly breeze blew - and began walking quickly through moist flagstones, staring at my shoes as I argued with myself. As soon as that irrational fright subsided, torment followed, and again I caught myself repeating 'What a fool I am! What a damned fool!'. I couldn't even keep my stories straight, and because of that I nearly… A cold shiver ran up my spine as I remembered Chris's eyes. He looked so angry… how angry would he be if he found out? What would I do? I heard myself moan despondently.

The nearest convenience store was two blocks down from where I lived. My game plan? Nothing too sophisticated yet: I grabbed a six-pack from the fridge, took in a big breath of courage and walked straight to the cashier.

Once at the conveyor belt, being stared at by a bored young woman, nervousness dictated I grab a bunch of chocolate bars from the nearby racks and throw them in with the beer – it was the cool, collected adult thing to do. Then, I proceeded to stare her right back, convinced that continual eye contact would do the trick.

…And it seemed to have worked: She sighed, and without moving much, began scanning my random selection of chocolate bars without a rush as she chewed her troublesome gum.

The repetition was enough to put me at ease. I would have wiped my forehead dry, ready to celebrate the rare occasion of my easy victory, when she pulled the six-pack before the scanner, slowly turned it around and around, and sighed as if I was ruining her day:

"I'm gonna need an I.D for this."

Shit! My heart started pounding. I had not thought this through…

"I… I don't have it with me!"

She raised her eyebrows over laxed eyelids, a sign that seemed to communicate 'I don't care', and I proceeded to hyperventilate.

I repeatedly knocked the knot of my fingers over the counter, musing. To call defeat and return without the beers? My only option! What would I tell Chris? 'The store was all out', of course! I glanced towards the back of the place, an entire wall of freezers dedicated to beer: he'd never believe me! What could I do? Come on, think!!

I must have looked really painfilled, for the cashier lady squinted her eyes, a mixture of confusion and disdain. She had put the beer down though… perhaps I could grab them and make a run for it? Before the thought was done, my eyes surveyed the store, and I took a blow: A cop – the same one from earlier – wandered by the ATM machines near the exit. My panic soared to new heights when he promptly captured my gaze, as if he could read the ill intent behind it. I quickly lowered them back to the cashier, looking guiltier still.

"Well?" She moaned, running out of patience.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! A thousand times shit!

"Everything okay?" He spoke from behind me, before coming to view and stopping by the cashier.

"She says she's got no I.D on her…" she pronounced apathetically.

He had his hand on his waist, and that same probing gaze from earlier – it made me sweat.

"House party?" He asked.

"No!" I uttered fast, respectfully, like a guilty punk caught in the act. The cop frowned, apparently expecting some other sort of reply, and I rose to the occasion: "…Just planning a relaxing evening for myself." I had heard that in a movie.

"Long day?"

"Tell me about it!" Working, responsible adults frequently complained of tiredness.

He studied me for a brief second, then offered me a smile of friendly sympathy… and that's when I knew I had sounded convincing enough.

"You're the girl from 130."

"Yes!" I lifted my chin, trying to look decided.

He still studied my reactions. "You're also a student at Mary Claire's… aren't you?"

"What? No!" I frowned and scoffed a laugh, as if that was truly absurd.

"You're not…" and he paused, confused, to consult a notepad from his pocket. "…miss Abigail S-"

"Huh? Oh… No, that would be my sister." I risked, figuring he had that name associated to my address – the house he'd seen me enter earlier.

"Oh!" His face lit up "Well… I've been meaning to talk to her."

"Uh… excuse me!" The cashier bewailed "…You're holding up the line!"

He showed up his palm, but in a gentle enough way. "It's okay Flo, this will only be a minute."

I looked behind myself, and there was no line at all. Still, 'Flo' rolled her eyes. The young officer cleared his throat and returned his attention to me:

"…Would it be okay if I asked her some questions?"

"Who? I mean, YES, of course. She's not at home though…"

"When can I find her?"

"N-" I was about to say never "Not until after the weekend. She's with my parents."

"I see. Well, I'll still need to talk to her, but maybe you can help me out in advance. When was she last in school, do you remember?"

"Classes were dismissed last Friday."

"Indeed, they were… But I understand the school has a recess program?"

"Oh! You're right, it does!"

"Has your sister been to that, would you be able to tell me?"

"She hasn't." I stretched a smile.

"Really?" He sighed, seemingly despondent. Something about his unsure, inexperienced demeanor instilled me with the courage to answer as I did.

"Has she… has she reported anything unusual at all?"

"No… Why would she? What happened?"

"Oh, nothing… no need for alarm!" he smiled awkwardly "Have you, erm… Do you think any of her schoolmates are unaccounted for?"

A strange question to ask a schoolmate's sister – if I was one. Being who I was, I still frowned, not knowing how to answer that.

"N-never mind, that was poorly phrased!" He shuffled the pages on his notepad nervously "Erm… Has she told you about any of her friends getting into some sort of trouble?"

The cashier rolled her eyes and sighed noisily, making her presence remembered.

"…any kid reported getting busted, or sent to the principal's office?"

As if any kid on the run would be spreading that kind of gossip around just like that! Still, insight finally hit me: I couldn't believe the school had put the police on trying to find that night's transgressor!

"I… don't think they'd share that much."

The cop laughed, caught off guard, then cleared his throat, embarrassed:

"Right. You're right. They probably wouldn't…"

We shared a short laugh.

"Okay, one last question…" he sighed. Then, crooking an eyebrow "…How old are you?"

In this scenario, I was not school-aged. I risked, my heart beating fast:

"19!"

"Look at that!" He smiled. "Nearly my age…"

I suspect the cashier vomited a little in her mouth then, while I brimmed a big smile – My lie had stuck.

"And… do you really not have your I.D on you?" He smirked.

"No… I don't have it! I forgot my wallet at home. I was so anxious to drop all that weight…" I reminded him.

"Right! You had some big luggage. Did you just arrive from a trip or…" he probed.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Still jet-lagged, too… ugh!" Also something I'd heard in a movie.

"Where'd you go?"

Just as I was starting to run out of confidence and answers, the cashier stepped in.

"Come on already! If you're just going to stand there and flirt with each other, take it somewhere else: I have better things to do!"

"Right…" The officer laughed, scoffed, walked a step back, utterly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I…" His eyes flickered, both studying and avoiding me. "…I have to be going as well. But…" he continued to walk backwards. "I'll come back. To see about your sister."

"Right. My sister." I smiled.

Having walked backwards enough, he took one long step towards me again, remembering: he stretched his arm, and slowly pulled the six-pack beyond the conveyor belt and into the bagging area. I smiled embarrassedly.

"Okay..." The cashier sighed impatiently "That will be…."

I raised my hand to return his timid goodbye as he left, then I handed her the money, bagged the beer and left the store, to only then sigh away all the tension my throbbing heart had built up.


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