Cupid's Guide to Murder

Chapter 5: Twisted Games

I didn't realize something was wrong. Not at first.

As I pulled into the school's parking lot, I used my windshield wiper to clear the sheets of rain trickling down the front windows. A buzzing crowd of students gathered in front of Fairwood, whispering to each other with their phones whipped out — typical Thursday morning. High school was a rumor mill on steroids, and gossip was a teen kid's rite of passage. It wasn't until I pulled closer that I saw the flashing lights through my car window, slick from the morning rain.

Red and blue flashing lights.

A sick feeling of bile rose from my throat, and I followed the pigments of color to see the cop cars parked in the front. My hands grew sweaty, and I tightened my grasp on the steering wheel. When I saw the crowd had dissipated, I undid my seatbelt before tugging my backpack from the passenger seat. I hitched it up to my shoulder before walking inside through the front entrance. It felt like people were watching me as I walked. 

I found my locker, only a few lockers away from Taylor's. She was already there, wearing a black dress and dark eyeliner. She looked like she was attending someone's funeral. As soon as she spotted me, she walked over, her blonde braids swinging alongside her step.

"Did you hear the news? Natasha's missing. Like, really missing. I heard her parents called the police and everything." She almost looked proud, like she was glad to have the 411 before the rest of us.

My insides twisted. I had spent days convincing myself that it couldn't have been true, but the police had confirmed.

Natasha was gone. Griffin's voicemail — he wasn't lying.

When I didn't answer, Taylor tilted her head. "Did you know about this?"

"Only for like two days," I said. As soon as her eyes darkened, I could tell that I should've brought this up before. "Griffin called me," I added, lowering my voice.

She looked at me funny, and I could see the questions forming in her head.

"Griffin Keely?" she hissed. "That psychopath was dating her, right?"

He wasn't a psychopath.

"He used to." I pursed my lips.

"I thought you don't talk to him anymore." Her eyes narrowed as they analyzed me, and I flushed.

"We don't. I didn't answer," I said. "I don't know why he called me."

She believed me.

She had to believe me.

Taylor turned back around, leaning her back against the locker next to mine and letting out a long sigh. "Do you think they'll question us?"

"They might, but it's not like we'll know anything different from others. She's not our friend anymore, Tay," I said. "She wouldn't tell us anything." There was a time when Natasha would confide in us, but those days were long gone. The Natasha she had become was close to an enemy, and now a stranger.

"Yeah," Taylor breathed. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. "There are already social media campaigns being run about her disappearance. She's trending on Twitter, which is pretty cool."

Cool was the last word I would use to describe anything about this case. I leaned my head against the locker, the cold panel like ice against my bare skin. "Are people looking for her?" I said. "I mean, the police have to be, right?"

"The local precinct is handling the case because it's still new. Too early to know anything. But if they haven't found her in a few weeks, they'll hand her case off to the Missing Persons Squad."