Fadeaway E. Vickers (some good books to read txt) 📖

said, swinging my hand back and forth the littlest bit. “So I don’t lose my edge.”

“Probably,” I agreed, spidering my fingers along his until they were all interlocked.

He looked down at our hands, then up at me with a shy, sideways grin. “Okay,” he said. “Get some rest, Sharp.”

“Because tomorrow’s going to hurt?” I asked.

“No,” he said, squeezing my hand as he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “Because you earned it.”

Seth is waiting outside the school counselor’s office when I come out of my interview with the police. He folds me into his arms as I bury my head in his chest.

“He’s gone,” I say. What else is there?

I guess that’s the question the cops are trying to answer too.

We stand there, totally silent, until I can feel the damp circle my tears have made on his shirt.

The door opens, and somebody comes out.

“Seth Cooper?” Officer Vega asks. Like he didn’t just walk in with us. Like he doesn’t know exactly who Seth is.

Seth squeezes me even tighter, then lets Vega lead him into the room. I’m alone in the reception area, my mind looping between replaying the interview and my last conversation with Jake in the training room before the game.

The things we said and didn’t say. The ache in his words. The moment I still can’t tell Seth about.

If the police had asked me what happened in the training room, I would have told them. But even as I think that, I’m not sure it’s true.

And now the interview’s over and Jake’s gone and I’m here, totally helpless.

No. Not totally helpless. I will not be the crying girl who waits around for things to happen. Even though everything fell to pieces between Jake and me months ago, even though he turned into someone I hardly recognized by the time we broke up, I have to do something. Because there’s no doubt in my mind he would be the first one to start searching if anything ever happened to me.

I pull my phone from my pocket and dial him for only the second time in months, knowing he won’t pick up but hoping for it anyway.

“This is Jake. Leave a message.”

“Call me,” I say. “Please.” It’s all I’ve got, and when I hang up, I know I don’t want to do this alone. I need Jenna.

I don’t know if she reached out to me that day at sophomore tryouts because she felt like an outsider too, but we’ve been tight ever since. She’s my person now—and pretty much the perfect partner in crime (fighting) to call up in this moment anyway. She’s a lot smarter than her GPA suggests and is especially good at getting information out of people. I shoot her a text.

Jake is missing.

I wonder whether I should add something more, but then the dots on my screen tell me she’s already writing back. When the words come through, they confirm that she was the right person to pull in.

Holy freak. Like MISSING missing?

And seconds later:

What’s our move?

I’m still searching for the answer when Seth comes out, looking so focused that I have to ask the same question to get his attention.

“What’s our move?”

Confusion wrinkles his brow. “Our move?”

“Jake is missing. What’s our move?”

“We made our move. Go in there, answer questions, let the police do their job. They said they’d let us know if they need to organize a search party, but it seems like they’re thinking he ran.”

This surprises me. “They barely mentioned that in my interview. They think he ran…based on what?”

Seth puts his hands up helplessly. “Based on the fact that his backpack was missing from his house and some of his clothes were gone.”

I feel a spike of anger that they told Seth this and not me, but even more that everybody seems to be accepting it when Jake could be hurt somewhere—or worse.

“He probably had it packed from the tournament. He could have left it at the arena. His stuff could be anywhere. Why are we even worried about his stuff, though, when the actual person is missing?”

Seth drops his hands. He can’t even look at me now.

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth,” he says, his voice tensing. “I told them Jake never came to the party on Saturday and I saw him take off with Kolt. I told them he’d talked about getting out of Ashland after the season was over.”

My tone tenses to match his. “Everybody talks about getting out of Ashland. All. The. Time. Not running away, though. Not without telling anybody. Do you even want them to look for him?”

“Of course I do.”

But before his words, there’s a hesitation so brief I wonder if I imagine it. Is this a stupid jealousy thing? Or is there something more here? I fold my arms and look him straight in the eye. “But you don’t want to help.”

Seth shrugs. Actually shrugs. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”

I stare at him, feel my jaw tighten. “You’re probably right. You’ve done everything you can. But I haven’t.”

Seth trails behind me as I head for the exit, and I push the door open so hard my palms sting.

“Don’t go,” he says. “I’m sorry. It’s just…My dad does this too. Last year he took off for a couple of days after the season ended. This feels like that to me. I bet he’ll be back by the end of the week.”

I stop and spin to face him. The wind blows cold between us. “This is different. Your mom probably knew where he was, and also your dad’s an adult. And there’s a difference between taking off and disappearing. I know Jake better than anybody,” I say, not caring that the words may hurt him. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

And I do feel it. There’s a panic growing inside me, scratching at my rib cage, throbbing in my head.

“Don’t you think…,” he starts.

I wait, assuming he actually has something important to say. But whatever it