Gia Cribbs - The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan

“Not at all. The forms are due in two days. You have to room with someone of the same sex and I’ve been having trouble finding someone.”

She must seriously be in need of some female friends.

“But the roommates don’t really matter,” Livie continued, “because I heard the chaperones go to bed early and everyone sneaks out and hooks up.” She peeked sideways at Jason.

Jason’s shoulders tensed. He picked up a napkin, scrunched it into a ball and held it out to Sawyer. “Bet you can’t get this into that trash can.” His eyes brightened as he pointed at an open, industrial-sized, round plastic trash can sitting about twelve feet away.

Livie rolled her eyes and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

I suppressed a smile as more memories came flooding back. When Jason and I were little, we made bets about everything, like who could run around his house three times the fastest or who had the longest french fry in their Happy Meal or who could knock the most action figures off the deck railing with a Nerf gun. Making goofy bets was one of the things about the old me that had disappeared the fastest.

Sawyer cocked an eyebrow. “Loser has to make all the shirts for the scavenger hunt?”

“You’re on,” Jason replied.

Sawyer took the napkin from Jason.

My hands itched to snatch it from him and shoot it myself. The girl Jason knew had been a horrible basketball player who never could’ve made the shot they were talking about. But I’d just left Lexington, Kentucky, home of the University of Kentucky, where basketball is king. Mark and I had really gotten into the Wildcats’ season, and had even gotten a basketball hoop at our house. We’d spent hours playing each other. I tucked my fingers under my legs so I couldn’t grab a napkin and turn it into a ball.

The boys each made their first shots and missed their second, Sawyer’s by a good two feet. At the start of round three, Sawyer got a lucky bounce, his ball ricocheting off the rim and disappearing inside. But as soon as Jason lined up for his shot, I could tell his trajectory was off. The napkin hit the side of the trash can and landed on the floor.

“Yes!” Sawyer raised his hands in triumph.

I so could’ve beaten them both.

“Your gloating is childish,” Livie said without glancing up from her phone. For a second I thought she was talking to me.

Jason turned to Sawyer. “Looks like I’ll be decorating T-shirts.”

“T-shirts?” I asked.

“Every scavenger hunt team wears matching shirts,” Sawyer explained. “It’s not a rule or anything, but people take it pretty seriously.”

“We’re going to my house after school to make them,” Jason said. “You should come since you’ll need one too.”

No way. Jason’s house meant Jason’s mom and that was just...no. I couldn’t risk being seen by anyone else who knew me. I opened my mouth to give them an excuse.

“No excuses,” Livie said, pointing at me. “You say no to everything, but we want you to come.”

The boys nodded their agreement.

“Let me guess, it’s a required part of the First Day Buddy contract?”

Livie grinned. “You catch on quick.”

Sawyer peeked at me. “We could do it at my house instead. I can give you a ride if you need one, Sloane.”

I internally winced. I couldn’t go to Jason’s house, yet I didn’t want to encourage Sawyer by taking him up on his offer.

“We can’t do it at your house,” Jason said. “You said your mom was hosting some book club thing.”

“Crap. I forgot about that.”

“Besides,” Jason continued, “my mom will be at work. We’ll have the place to ourselves.” He gave me a half smile. “Want to come over and help us decide what to put on the shirts?”

His mom wasn’t going to be there. That changed things. I wanted to see where he lived and what his room looked like and maybe find out what happened to his parents. “I can come for a little while.”

“Great!” Sawyer exclaimed with such enthusiasm you would’ve thought I’d just agreed to go to the prom with him. “I can still give you a ride if you want.” He grabbed his phone out of his bag. “Or I can text you directions to J’s.” He frowned at the phone for a moment. “There’s something wrong with my phone.” Then he looked up and gave me a lopsided grin. “It doesn’t have your number in it.”

I snorted. “I can’t fix that.”

Livie shot Sawyer a smug look. “Crash and burn.”

“No,” I insisted, “I meant I don’t have a phone.” Under the table, I ran a hand over the pocket where my phone was hiding. My secret only-use-to-keep-in-touch-with-Mark-and-never-share-the-number-under-strict-penalty-of-death phone.

All three stared at me like I’d just sprouted wings.

“I had one,” I mumbled. “I got really addicted to it a few years ago and gave it up cold turkey. No social media accounts either. You should try it. I have so much more free time now.”

Livie’s mouth dropped open. “I could never live without my phone.” From the seriousness of her voice, she clearly ranked phone on her list of necessities right next to food and oxygen .

I reached into my backpack, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and slid them over to Jason. “You can be old-school and write your address down. I’ll find my way there.”

He scribbled something, folded the paper, and slid it back to me just as a middle-aged woman wearing a suit and stiletto heels approached us. “Gentlemen, I expect you to clean up the remnants of your little basketball game.” She rapped a knuckle on our table as she walked by.

“Yes, Principal Thompson,” Jason and Sawyer replied in unison.

They both jumped up to collect the trash. As soon as they were out of earshot, Livie leaned across the table, her voice low so the boys wouldn’t hear. “How’d you get Oliver Clarke to talk to you?”

“Who?”

She made an impatient sound. “Oliver Clarke? Voice so smooth you just want to eat him up? Eyes so green they make everyone else’s jealous?”

Um, okay. I’d admired his voice earlier, but eating him hadn’t popped into my head. “Oh, him.”

“Yes, him .” Livie sighed. “He broke up with his girlfriend about a week ago. Or maybe she broke up with him. No one knows exactly what happened, but the rumors are flying. He basically hasn’t been talking to anyone since. They’d been dating forever, even though she’s probably the worst person in this school, so it was kind of a big deal.”

“Let me guess. His ex-girlfriend has short black hair?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“She didn’t seem to like it when I talked to him.”

Livie slapped a hand on the table. “I knew it! He must’ve dumped her.”

“What’s her deal?”

Livie watched Oliver’s ex for a few seconds, eyes serious. “She knows everyone’s secrets and likes to share.”

I peered over my shoulder at Oliver, reading quietly at his deserted table. He’s in some kind of self-imposed social exile because of a gossip-inducing breakup with the secret-sharing “worst person” in the school? There are so many reasons to stay away from him.

“Nobody in their right mind would break up with Oliver,” Livie said. “I mean, there are definitely hotter guys here.” Her gaze darted around the cafeteria, presumably landing on all the boys she thought were better looking, but she never once glanced in Jason’s direction. “But that voice .” She looked at me. “I would do absolutely anything he asked if he sang it to me.”

Hold up. Did she just imply Oliver was a better catch than her boyfriend? He was kind of cute. And apparently single, not that I would’ve done anything about it. I’d learned the hard way not to get attached to anyone because I never knew when I’d have to leave at the worst possible time. But Oliver didn’t have anything on Jason.