Disequilibrium

Part 3: Junior Year - Scene 12

Owens is standing at my doorstep when I get back from school. He has his arms casually crossed on his chest, eyes wandering over the park, and his back leaning against the trailer. The first thing I notice about him is he's out of uniform. The second thing I notice is he doesn't look as confused or angry like the last time I saw him.

He looks like he knows something.

I walk up to him with my hands gripping the straps of my backpack, glad I let Casper go home instead of following me here. Owens snaps his gaze from the other trailers to me, offering a small smile. He's never smiled before—not in front of me.

"Afternoon, sir," I say as politely as I can although I'd do anything to gut him out right now. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing special. Just wanted to clarify some things."

I give him a look. "Are you allowed to do that off duty? And without your partner?"

He shrugs, still smiling. "You drove without a proper licence."

Okay, fine. I fish the house key from my pocket, pretending he isn't making me as nervous as he really is. "My dad's out at the moment, but you're welcome to come in if you'd like—"

"That won't be necessary. I'll be quick." He lets his hands drop to his sides, his body getting more relaxed after each second. My heart only rises in speed. "You know, while Tim and I were questioning people, someone let us in on something I found a little funny."

"I'm starting to think you find everything funny, sir."

He ignores me. "Remember Casper's party? You were there, weren't you? You don't even have to say anything because someone told me they saw you leave with him right after he kissed someone. Anila, to be exact. If I'm getting things wrong, please correct me."

I stare at him for a moment before I shrug, leaning against the front door. "So? People kiss people at parties. It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

His smile grows a little wider. "Okay, that might be the case for many people. I was a teen once. I just think that kiss might've meant a little more to you than it did for him. Didn't it?"

My body gets a little tense as he puts his hands in his pockets, looking smug. "I don't understand what you're implying, sir."

"Tim is a good officer. Cares a lot about people—maybe too much. But see, I'm the one who knows the right questions to ask. What information to pick up."

"If I'm not wrong, I swear you're only asking questions about me. Shouldn't you be looking for the one who killed her? They could still be out there while—"

"About three or four people tell me you and Casper became friends spontaneously. They tell me the only time you've ever been apart was when he left the country. He's your only friend, isn't he?"

"I wouldn't say my only—"

"You don't like it when he hangs out with other people, do you?"

"I never said that—"

"Then why did you take her out on that drive? Why were you so adamant to let her know how you felt when she was kissing your best friend? If people kiss people at parties, why did you feel the need to do it?" His smile drops a little. "To me, it kind of seems like you're singling him out. Like a predator to his prey."

I'm blinking several times. My heart is pounding in my ears. I'm trying to calm down, but I can't. The air is getting tighter. I can't. "Did your textbooks teach you all that? And how to incriminate innocent people?"

He laughs a little even though nothing is funny. "No, I studied it since I was a teen. I wanted to be a judge, you know, so I read all there is to know about bad people. Engraved it in my head."