Todd Strasser - Kill You Last

Finally, after he’d pulled yet another beer from the fridge, and I saw that nobody was around, I decided to bring up the subject myself. “What do you think is going on with those missing girls?”

“The only thing I know is that it’s really hurting my bank account,” Gabriel said as he took a gulp.

That caught me by surprise. Of all the answers I had imagined him giving… how could money be the only thing he was thinking about? Didn’t he care that something bad might have happened to those girls? His lack of empathy creeped me out. At that point I might not have continued talking to him were it not for my hope that if we kept speaking, he might reveal something about his part in the situation… if he’d had a part in it at all.

Unfortunately, Gabriel interpreted my continued interest as something else. To complicate things, no matter where we went in the house, other girls seemed to find an excuse for “bumping” into us so that I would feel obligated to make an introduction. I think even Gabriel grew annoyed with all the attention, because twice he suggested that we go someplace where we wouldn’t be disturbed. After I brushed the suggestion aside for a second time, he started to get a little frustrated.

By then it was getting late, and when I yawned one time too many, he seemed to reach his limit and said, “Guess I’m gonna bail.”

I had mixed feelings about that-part relief, part disappointment that I hadn’t learned anything useful, and even a little guilty that I’d used and misled him, even if he had helped my dad mislead all those girls who’d never had a realistic chance of becoming models. Roman had already left the party, and when I looked around, I found Tara Kraus shooting a contemptuous glance at me from a couch where she was sitting with her posse.

“I think I’ll go, too,” I said, and then, to make sure Gabriel didn’t get the wrong idea, added, “I could use a good night’s sleep.”

“I bet,” he muttered a little sourly.

We left the party together, which probably caused more than a few tongues to wag, but I didn’t care. Gabriel walked with his head bowed uncharacteristically, and I was annoyed with myself for feeling bad about him. We got to the street, and I pointed to the left. “My car’s down that way.”

“Mine’s up there.” He pointed to the right.

An awkward moment followed. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but I also didn’t want to alienate him any more than I already had. After all, what if it turned out that he did know something useful about the missing girls? Dad and I might still need him.

I stepped close. “I’m sorry if I seemed distracted tonight. I’ve just got so much on my mind. I mean, about what’s going on with my dad. It’s hard to stop thinking about it.”

Gabriel gave me an uncertain look, as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe me. Feeling like I had to be more convincing, I stretched up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “We’ll talk, okay?”

“Sure.” He smiled.

A moment later I was walking down the street, trying to replay in my head everything I could remember Gabriel saying that evening, searching for any nugget of information I might have missed. But nothing came to light.

My car was parked on the dark side of the street. I was so busy thinking about Gabriel that it didn’t occur to me to consider how late it was, or the darkness, or the fact that there was no one around. I was reaching for the door… when suddenly, I sensed someone behind me.

I spun around just as a large shadowy figure came out of the dark.

I almost screamed.

Then saw that it was Whit.

“You have to stop sneaking up on me like this!” I gasped, pressing my hand against my heaving heart.

“Sorry,” Whit said.

My fright quickly morphed into serious annoyance. “Why do you always do this?”

He pointed back up the street toward the house. “What was I supposed to do? Stand where you could see me and watch while you kissed that guy?”

I glanced at Courtney’s brightly lit house, then back at Whit. “Is that a rhetorical question, or am I actually supposed to have an answer?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “But I admire your taste.”

I wasn’t only annoyed with him for scaring me. I was still angry about that article he’d wanted to write that would have implied that Dad could have been involved in the disappearances. “Thank you. And not only is he gorgeous, but he’s a really sweet, nice guy, and we have a lot of fun together.”

A wry smile appeared on Whit’s lips. “No kidding? So I guess you don’t mind that he works for your dad and probably was complicit with the whole modeling scam? Funny, but I didn’t think that was the kind of guy you’d be attracted to.”

I felt my face grow hot and my eyes narrow with anger, mostly because he’d so easily caught me in my lie. “You…,” I started to say through gritted teeth, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say.

“Now, now, be nice,” he cautioned with a grin. “I haven’t agreed to go off the record this time.”

That just made me madder. Hating how he was teasing me, I felt my hands ball into such tight fists that my nails dug into my palms. “Why are you doing this?”

“You know why. You told me yourself. I’m using your father’s misfortunes to catapult myself into the upper echelons of journalism.”

I swung my fist. Not that I actually meant to hurt him. I was really lashing out at all of it-the anger and disappointment and injustice of everything that had happened-and he just happened to be the closest target.

“Whoa!” He caught my wrist. I’d forgotten how big his hands were. My hand in his was like a doll’s. I tried to yank it back, but he held it.

“Let go!” I kept struggling.

“Calm down,” he said.

“Not till you let go!”

“Not till you calm down.”

We’d reached a stalemate. “Then at least… stop grinning! ” I shouted.

He let go. I took a step back, rubbing my wrist and breathing hard. He hung his head, the smile gone. “Sorry. I… I shouldn’t have made light of your problems.”

I nodded, even though my emotions were still on spin cycle. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I guess I’m sorry, too.”

“Listen, you’re going through a bad time. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

Now, from out of nowhere, came the urge to cry, but I blinked hard and fought back the tears. I didn’t care how empathetic and insightful he was, he was not going to see me cry.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded and felt tiny bits of tears creep out of both eyes. Darn it!

Whit began to pat his pockets.

“Do not offer me anything to wipe my eyes with!” I practically yelled. “I am not crying! I’m just… Oh, I don’t know what I am.” At that moment I felt so frustrated and mixed up and fragile, I just… wanted… to be held. The next thing I knew, I stepped close to him, and he put his arms around me.

And then I started to cry for real. Shoulders shaking and voice quavering, I managed to croak out, “This… isn’t a come-on or anything… I’m… just really upset.”

“I know.” He held me firmly, but gently, and reassured me that everything was going to be all right. Gradually, the wave of emotion passed, and I backed out of his arms.

I wiped my eyes while he stood and watched silently, which was exactly what I didn’t want him to do. “Actually, would you do me a huge favor?” I asked. “I could really use a beer.”

Whit looked back over his shoulder at Courtney’s house. “Promise you’ll be here when I get back?”

“I promise.”

He left, and I had a chance to fix my makeup under a streetlight. A few moments later he was back with two beers. We sat on the hood of a car under an almost-full moon.