Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He shakes his head. I’m really losing hope.
“Is there anything else you might have found noteworthy?”
“Nah, man. I wish I did, but that note was really the only thing that stood out to me.”
“What about Jason?” Leif asks. “Did you have any interactions with him?”
“You don’t miss a face like that, but we never had any classes together or talked. I saw him on Grindr, messaged him once, but he didn’t message back. I took some screenshots of his profile pics because he’s a hot motherfucker. I think I still have those… Haven’t even looked because I took them not too long before he went missing.”
And with those words, he’s deflated the last of my hope.
*
After we finish our chat, Wes says he plans to stick around a bit longer to see what he can find on Grindr. Leif heads to the restroom, and I take our drinks to the trash bin near the front of the coffeehouse, where a line has gathered along the lengthy stretch of counter between me and the entrance. The place was busy when we arrived, but now it’s packed.
My disappointment is starting to settle in, a hollowness in my gut.
Although I’m glad we chatted with Wes, I’d hoped for some clue that might illuminate something about Mike, something that would help me figure out what happened to him. But I don’t know much more than before we came here.
While Leif’s in the restroom, I figure I’ll check the news on my phone, and as I’m about to retrieve it from my back pocket, something draws my gaze. Through a gap in the line at the counter, I notice a man in a hoodie leaving the coffeehouse, and as he turns, I catch his profile.
I’m sure I recognize the nose and jawline.
Isaac Tolle?
But it’s only a flash of part of his face before one of the patrons in line moves slightly, obscuring my view.
By the time I reposition, he’s gone. Only the door swinging closed.
It was so fucking quick, I couldn’t get a good look. Was that him?
I’m all instinct as I head toward the entrance, frustrated with every person I have to say “Excuse me” to.
Isaac works around here; he could have just been swinging by, like the day I found him at the library. But wouldn’t that be a hell of a coincidence for him to be here the day I chat with Wes about Mike? He sure as fuck never came here when I was following him.
Outside, I search around, first for Isaac, then, when I don’t see him, for his Toyota Corolla. No sign of either.
I notice a guy in a hoodie getting into his car. He pulls off his hood before he gets in, and it’s definitely not Isaac.
Was this the guy I saw?
No, it was Isaac. It had to be.
I rush to either side of the building, checking the lot, but still no sign. At the pace he was moving, he wouldn’t have been able to get away fast enough to evade me. Although, he could have seen me too and bolted. But he had to have parked somewhere.
Unless he was here to spy on us.
The image of his face is burned into my fucking brain. It reminds me of when I was in my manic state, seeing his face in places where I knew he couldn’t have been.
This felt different, though. Real.
It felt real then too…didn’t it?
Fuck. I’m shaking, and I know it’s because I fear the worst.
“Zane?” I hear, and I turn to see Leif jogging toward me.
“There you are. I wondered where you went.” As he approaches, he stops in place, studying my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing,” I say, still searching around.
Wouldn’t he be out here if I’d really seen him? Or is he hiding somewhere?
Or is that what I’d tell myself even if it was just in my head, to justify the delusion?
“You look so pale,” Leif says. “Let’s get in the car and get you warmed up.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
I try to act normal, but that’s fucking useless since my mind’s playing on loop that moment when I could’ve sworn I saw Isaac.
But what if I didn’t? What if I’m having another episode?
27
LEIF
That was so surreal, sitting in a coffeehouse, talking to a guy about Zane’s missing brother. Like what happened the night we first met, it resembled something out of a movie, not the kind of thing I’d ever expected to deal with in real life.
Just as I feared, Wes didn’t add any clarity around what happened with Mike, and it’s not something Zane can magically recover from.
But that doesn’t explain his bizarre behavior in the coffeehouse parking lot.
He wasn’t himself. And he kept looking around, like he’d seen someone or something, but when I pressed, he wouldn’t explain. It’s what’s on my mind all the way back to his place, as we sit in silence, listening to Christmas songs.