Fadeaway by E. Vickers (ebook smartphone TXT) 📗

we all put our phones down and sit there, sick, while cheap candles weep wax onto Luke’s cake.

Maybe it’s just the candles, but there’s a fire in Mrs. Foster’s eyes now as she reaches for Luke’s phone. “He’s alive, and he’s asking for help. That’s what this is. I’m calling the police. No, I’m taking this to the police. They have to be able to figure something out.”

“I can stay with Luke,” Daphne says. “If you want.”

Mrs. Foster nods. She pulls Luke close and kisses the top of his head. “I can’t sit here waiting or wishing. Not anymore. I have to find my son.”

She throws Luke’s phone into her purse and strides out the door. Part of me wants to follow her, to say Screw it to the world like she did. But at least she had somewhere to go. Where would I even start?

I read the text again. What does “when this is all over” mean, anyway? That he’s thinking about suicide? That he’s about to overdose? That he was so desperate for drugs that he crossed the wrong kind of people and really is locked away somewhere, taken prisoner or brainwashed or something worse? Daphne catches my eye, and I can tell her mind’s going to the same dark places.

When her phone rings, we all jump. She relaxes a little when she sees the screen.

“It’s Seth,” she says, silencing the call and forcing a smile for Luke. “I’ll talk to him later. Luke, it’s your birthday. What do you want to do?”

“I want to find my brother. I want to go look for him and find him. Tonight.”

I rake my hands through my hair. “We’re trying….”

Luke looks up at me, serious as a heart attack.

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

I’ve never seen Luke look so determined—or so much like Jake. And he’s right. Something fundamental needs to change if we’re going to go from try to do, like Mrs. Foster did tonight. I could kick myself for all the time I’ve spent scrolling through the garbage on the “Find Jake” page and waiting for the police to take me up on my offer to help. For all the hours I’ve wasted hanging posters and following the rules instead of following my gut and actually finding him myself.

Kolt tips back in his chair. “Well, sure. I should have realized all we were missing was a Yoda quote.”

“Not helping,” I snap at him. Then I turn to Luke. “You’re right,” I say. “But maybe we have to start with the try. We know he’s not in this house, so let’s look somewhere else.”

I turn back to Kolt. “You coming?”

He looks down. “He’s my best friend. Of course I’m coming.”

“Good,” I say, stacking the dishes and scribbling a note for Mrs. Foster. “Let’s go.”

Luke leans forward and blows out the candles, and nobody needs to ask what he wished for.

Outside, Kolt strides to his truck, then falters. “Wait, I’m almost out of gas.”

“Are you ever not almost out of gas?” I ask.

“Nope,” he says, and changes direction. “But I could drive Jake’s truck. Maybe there’s some kind of clue there anyway.” He lifts the handle, but the door’s locked again.

“I know how to open it,” I say. “I’m going to pull up on the handle, and you grab it from the bottom….”

Right as we’re reaching for the door, Luke pulls the key from his pocket and slides it in the lock.

“Did you have that all along?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.

“Yes,” he says. “So if he ever came back, he couldn’t leave again without saying goodbye.”

He climbs in first and slides all the way across to unlock the driver-side door, and then all three of us are on the bench seat.

“Okay,” Kolt says, taking the key from Luke and turning it in the ignition. The truck coughs and sputters but eventually starts.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Whenever I lose something,” Luke says, “I’m supposed to retrace my steps. So maybe we can retrace Jake’s steps.”

“Okay,” Kolt says. “We know he drove the truck home, and we’re in the truck. So now we go…”

“Back to the school?” I say. “I mean, we know he’s not there, but maybe there’s a clue, or it could trigger a memory for one of us.”

“Sure,” Kolt says, gunning the truck backward down the driveway.

Luke reads the text again. “ ‘Maybe when this is all over…’ What does that mean?”

Kolt and I look at each other. “We don’t know for sure,” I say, although it’s hard to interpret it as meaning anything good.

My phone rings, and I glance down.

Seth. Again.

Kolt sees it too and rolls his eyes. “Might as well answer it, or he’ll just keep calling. Dude doesn’t know when to give it a rest.” He grabs my phone and answers the call on speaker.

“Hey,” I say, hoping Seth will hear in my voice that I’m not looking to talk.

“Hey,” he answers, his voice tinny over the rumble of the truck. There’s a silence long enough that I wonder if he thinks I called him first.

Kolt sees his opening. “I gotta be honest, bro. We don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“Kolt?” Seth sounds confused. “What are you doing there? Daphne, who else are you with?”

“Well, technically, she’s with you,” Luke says. “Because you stole her from my brother. That’s you, right? Seth Cooper, center, six four, two hundred ten pounds,” he recites. “Team leader in rebounds and foul-shot percentage and not much else.”

“Is that Luke?” Seth asks. “What’s going on, Daphne?”

“We’re trying to find Jake.” I don’t say it to hurt him, but I don’t care that it might.

Seth clears his throat. “Okay. Look, I was just calling to tell you not to come over tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Seth knows me, knows I’d never put up with a boyfriend who tries to control me. But there’s something off in his tone. Something different from the ridiculous jealousy in the gym the other day. “Why shouldn’t I come