High schooler, Helena Gallagher is still recovering from life's latest tragedy when chaos occurs.
Another murder.
Only this one is much closer to home. And when fingers start pointing towards her boyfriend-Elliot-she has no choice but to intervene...
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The library is relatively quiet, much to our convenience. We track down the senior year book from 2002, alongside 2001 and 2000. All three are covered in a layer of dust, but other than that, the books are in great condition. Undisturbed.
We head towards the far corner, tucking ourselves away. The lighting is a little spars but with the torches on our phones; we make it work.
"Ready?" I ask.
Elliot responds by cracking open the first page. I lean over to get a better view, reading a brief description of Oak Valley High School. They haven't changed the layout at all. It's the exact same as our yearbook this year. Same colour scheme. Same font. Same photograph of the building. Although, back then, it was a catholic school.
As Elliot reads over it, I pull the Polaroid out of Sarah and possibly S.F, positioning it between us. A decent face match is integral to our investigation and without one, we have no way of moving forward. No way of knowing who S.F really is.
"Check this out," states Elliot, pointing towards our old economics teacher. "It's Mrs. Nelson nineteen years ago."
"She somehow looks older," I say, focusing on the grainy image.
We flick through a few more pages, finding nothing of worth. The 2002 soccer team comes into view and I spot Dad straight away.
"Jason was a jock?" questions Elliot.
I scan the remaining players, hoping to find our guy.
"Anything?"
"No, he's not there," I reply, deflating.
Elliot reads through the small paragraph, determined not to miss anything. "2002 was a year of victory for Oak Valley soccer team. With seven wins under their belt and the championship title, the future is looking bright for these fine athletes. Jason Peters was voted MVP with a score count of eleven. He's secured himself a full scholarship to Stanford and is all set to attend this fall. Good luck, Jason!"
"Wait? Dad got into Standford?"
Elliot runs his finger over the words, re-reading. "Looks like it."
"That's a great school," I say.
"It's where the big leagues scout their players."
I can't help but feel sad.
"He must've given all that up when he got Connie pregnant."
Elliot nods, embodying the same somber mood as me.
"I guess life didn't really work out the way any of them thought," I whisper, once again looking at Dad.
His boyish smile is a mixture of both charm and mischief; the latter being more prominent. He's got the famous Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic haircut, right down to the bangs. A total heartthrob.
