Six Feet Over/Under Ch. 23

Vanessa had completely forgotten how relaxing it was to fall asleep after a night of passion with a treasured partner. As she woke to the usual chimes of her first alarm, her body and soul hummed with a pleasant buzz. Warmth that carried memories of Scarlett's touch, of the pleasure they'd found together last night. She wasn't exactly well-rested--hardly surprising after forcing herself to stay awake until four in the morning--and her body protested what scant few hours of sleep she'd allowed herself. Despite that contrast, she nevertheless reached for Scarlett as soon as her thoughts returned to her.

"Mmmmnnnngh," Vanessa grumbled, suddenly remembering that she couldn't find her girlfriend through touch alone.

"Morning, Blueberry." Scarlett pretended to kiss Vanessa's forehead, the soft noise pinpointing the ghost's location. "I almost hate to ask, but how did you sleep?"

"Nooo..."

"Vanessa, you're smart, you knew this was going to happen."

"It was worth it though!" Vanessa protested.

"I'm happy you feel that way, honestly, but you probably shouldn't make a habit out of it. If you really want to do that again, maybe steal a few hours of sleep beforehand?"

"But I was having so much fun teasing you!" Vanessa turned onto her side and reluctantly pried her eyes open. "I can't believe you watched me strip and shower for you and still didn't put it together. I thought you were supposed to be the hot-shot sex goddess or whatever."

Scarlett blushed as she averted her eyes. "I-I didn't want to be presumptuous!"

Giggling to herself, Vanessa closed her eyes for another moment. Her next alarm pried them open, then she sighed in frustration and reluctantly slid out of bed. "Ugh, fine, I'll get ready for school... Stupid laws of metaphysics only letting us touch at three in the morning..."

As she rummaged through her closet for something to wear, Scarlett lazily hovered nearby. She seemed somewhat lost in thought, then eventually said, "We should really get back to investigating today."

"Yeah? You don't want to just push it back to next week and enjoy the weekend or whatever?"

The suggestion made Scarlett shrink into herself. "I just... I dunno. Thinking of my killer still walking around makes my skin crawl. What's stopping him from hurting anyone else? Even if he doesn't, we still know that someone on the team is throwing games for money. I've only followed two players, and both of them were in really bad situations. What if Kurt relies on, like, a football scholarship to afford Aurelius? I'd hate to think of a shitty season making his life even harder."

I had no idea she was so affected by Kurt's living situation. I guess it's easy to forget how much she's changed in the last few months. She's probably right, though. There's only a month left until the holiday break, and if we wait another semester, it'll be even harder to catch her killer.

After pulling a shirt on, Vanessa smiled at Scarlett. "Alright, let's find someone to talk to today. Any thoughts on who?"

"Actually, I had a random thought last night while you were sleeping," Scarlett started. "What if, instead of looking into a specific person, we tried to track down the rumor about my suicide? We know it's false, obviously, but it had to have started somewhere."

"You think maybe the killer spread the rumor around to throw suspicion elsewhere?"

"It's possible, isn't it? It's not the only thing that's been bugging me, either. I still think it's really weird how little the campus seems to care about my death. Like, don't get me wrong, I was a total bitch, but suicide is so easy to sensationalize. Why didn't my disappearance make the news? Where are the students pretending to know me so they can milk my death for attention or whatever? Shit, for that matter, what does Rose think about all this?"

"Rose is your sister, right?"

"Yeah."

Vanessa bit the inside of her cheek, curious just how much Scarlett had changed, and decided to risk her next question. "Look, I know you warned me otherwise when we started this investigation, but... what if we reached out to her? She might know something."

Scarlett hesitated, staring off into the distance. "I... I don't think I'm ready for that yet. I know it should happen eventually, but... I dunno. I'll think about it."

"Just let me know, okay?" After a weak smile from Scarlett, Vanessa pretended to kiss the ghost's cheek before sitting at her desk. She grabbed her backpack and sorted through her homework, double and triple checking every assignment, before humming in satisfaction that everything was in order. Once everything was packed, she unlocked her phone to start digging through their list of suspects. "Any idea where you'd want to start with today's investigation? I think Kurt was the last person we talked to that parroted that rumor, so maybe--Huh. That's weird."

"What's up?" Scarlett flew closer until she hovered just over Vanessa's shoulder.

"I was about to check Kurt's socials, but I've got a message request from a deleted account. I've never seen that before."

"It's probably spam, just delete it."

Scarlett's suggestion came too late. Vanessa had already tapped the request, and her stomach dropped as she read the message.

[DELETED ACCOUNT]: STAY AWAY FROM THE TEAM. OR ELSE.

"What the fuck?" Scarlett muttered.

"Whoever the killer is... he's onto us," Vanessa whispered. "That means we're getting close! This is great!"

"This is NOT great, Blueberry! He's threatening you! Somewhere on campus, someone you don't know is convinced you're a problem, and we already know they're willing to kill." Scarlett darted back and forth as she wrung her hands together. "You need to play it extra safe, okay? I will not watch you fall victim to the same asshole that killed me!"

Vanessa stood up and intercepted Scarlett's panicked pacing. "Hey. It's gonna be okay. I'll stay out in the open, I'll avoid walking around by myself."

Scarlett sighed and pretended to rest her forehead against Vanessa's. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"We're in this together, aren't we? The only times we're apart are when you're following suspects around, and when that happens, I'm mostly just doing homework in my dorm. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can sniff out if anyone starts following me around campus or whatever."

After gesturing at one final kiss, Vanessa returned to her morning routine. During her quick breakfast, she made another sweep through local news sites in hopes of finding something about Scarlett, but again she found nothing. After placing her bowl in the sink and grabbing a jacket--yesterday had not been warm enough to warrant shorts and a skimpy tank top--she slipped on her shoes and headed out. There was just enough time to swing by Brew Love for a bit of coffee, and thankfully, that was also the perfect place to start today's line of questioning.

"Welcome to Brew Love! What are you having today?" the short-haired barista asked.

"Hi Brooklyn!" Vanessa said with a smile. "Can I get a small Mocha Me Crazy?"

Seconds later, she swiped her card and moved to the side counter to await her order. Peering behind the counter, she found exactly who she was looking for: Trevor, the barista with the long dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail. As he finished making Vanessa's drink, he wandered closer and slid it across the counter.

"Thank you so much, Trevor!" Vanessa hummed with satisfaction as she warmed her hands around the cup. "Hey, can I ask you a quick question?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

Vanessa leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Do you remember all those months ago when I asked about Scarlett, and you mentioned that you'd heard she killed herself?"

The barista furrowed his brows in thought. "Uh, yeah, a bit. Why?"

"I was actually wondering where you heard that. Any chance you remember who told you?"

"Oof. You're still looking into that?" Trevor's face contorted as if he were trying to manually force the thoughts out of his head. "Um, that would have been... two months ago? Oh! That's right! I was getting food with Barry, and he mentioned it in passing because he knew I used to work with Scarlett."

After a quick search on social media, Vanessa had a face to put to the name. "Right, Barry, I've definitely seen him around. Where's he normally hang out?"

"I mean, if you're trying to hunt him down, your best bet is gonna be that skate park east of campus." Trevor clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on the counter. "You seriously still looking into that? I had no idea she had people that actually cared about her."

"Well, I-I..."

What's a good way to avoid saying 'I'm dating a ghost?'

"I just think she was a better person than everyone gave her credit for. If she really did kill herself, I want to know."

"Trevor! Get your butt back to work!"

Shooting upright, Trevor's face flushed in shame as he returned to his job.

Vanessa spent her next class trying to piece together when she might have time to swing by the skate park. It was just far enough away to make a visit between classes impossible, but she reasoned she might have time if she cut her lunch short. By sheer happenstance, she ended up finding Barry in the cafeteria in the middle of looking for seating.

Barry had medium-length, shaggy brown hair that was mostly hidden underneath a large green beanie. He wore a beat-up tank underneath a loose orange flannel, and patches of facial hair indicated he was hoping to grow something more than what he had.

"Hey! Barry, right?" Vanessa asked, sitting down across from the skater.

"Uh, yeah?" Barry mumbled, briefly looking to his friends as if asking them for help. "Sorry, have we met before? My memory's kinda shit, so..."

"No, nothing like that. I'm actually looking for a friend of mine, and I happened to talk to Trevor about it, and he said you might know something."

"Oh, Trevor! Hell yeah, what's up?"

"So, a while back, Trevor used to have a coworker named Scarlett. Long black hair, kinda grumpy, liked to smoke. A few months back you told him that she had killed herself; do you remember where you heard that?"

"Scarlett... Scarlett..." Barry muttered under his breath.

"Dude, wasn't that Ruby's ex?" another guy chipped in.

"Shit, you're totally right, I forgot about her." Looking back at Vanessa, Barry added, "Right, uh, Scarlett. If memory serves, I heard about that from Kennedy. We were out by the practice field, and I was sell--I mean, I was... totally... not selling her anything."

A bearded guy next to Barry slapped his arm. "C'mon, man, are you serious?

"Shut up!"

Vanessa paid no attention to the random bickering between Barry and his friends. Instead, she ran a quick search of Barry's social media connection and found a single person named Kennedy. Angling her phone towards Barry, she asked, "Is this her?"

Barry nodded. "Yeah, totally."

A guy two seats down spoke up next, a lecherous grin on his face. "Damn, bro, a cheerleader? How'd she pay?"

"Shit, with money, Craig! Get your head out of the gutter. I have a girlfriend!"

Content there was nothing else to learn at this table, Vanessa retreated to a quiet corner in order to finish her lunch. Scarlett floated across from her and sat cross-legged on the table. "You didn't want to ask where to find Kennedy?"

"They said she was a cheerleader, didn't they? I'm not going to have time to talk to anyone else between my next few classes, so I figure I can just sit in on their practice once it starts."

"Makes sense." Scarlett nodded slowly before looking back at Barry and his friends. "Is that what I used to be like?"

"Them? Nah, not in the slightest," Vanessa muttered.

"Oh, come on, that's a lie and you know it."

"Sure, maybe the drugs and sex part, but there's one key difference."

"Oh?"

"You're way cuter than he is."

Scarlett blushed and looked away. "S-shut up!"

Following lunch, Vanessa turned her attention back to classes. Her afternoon subjects required more attention, and there simply wasn't time to rummage through clues and schedules in search of other leads. After several hours of rigorous note-taking and diligent follow-up questions, Vanessa finally reclaimed her freedom and set her sights on cheerleader practice.

The squad rehearsed in the school's Gymnastics Building nestled comfortably in the western Athletics Campus. While it wasn't set up for onlookers to the same extent as the massive football field, there was at least a small viewing area off to one side of the space. The bleachers were entirely devoid of people, instead filled mostly with the bags and backpacks of everyone currently practicing on the main floor. With no desire to disrupt practice, Vanessa set up in a corner and worked on homework as she waited patiently for their rehearsal to wrap up.

An hour and a half later, after the coach dismissed everyone, a crowd of athletes swarmed the viewing area to grab their things. Vanessa watched the crowd closely, keeping a close eye on Kennedy, and in the process heard snippets from several different conversations. Most of them were talking about their plans for the weekend, though Vanessa also heard that David was throwing another party tonight.

When her target finally walked into view, Vanessa grabbed her backpack and approached. "Excuse me, Kennedy?"

Kennedy barely seemed to register Vanessa's presence. Her eyes were glued to her phone, and after sending a few texts, she eventually looked up. "Uh, hi?"

Vanessa extended her hand. "Hi there! My name is Vanessa. We've never met before, but I'm looking for a friend of mine, and a... mutual acquaintance of ours pointed me in your direction."

The cheerleader's eyes glazed over for a second. "I've never seen you before."

"Right, well, I was talking with Barry, and he--"

"Shh!" Kennedy's deadpan expression vanished as she lunged forward, shushing Vanessa with adamant fervor. "Shut up about that! Shit, what is this, blackmail?"

"What? No?" Vanessa shook her head. "Look, you were talking with him a while back, and you mentioned a rumor you'd heard recently about a girl named Scarlett. You told him that she killed herself, and I was wondering where you heard that."

"Oh, is that all?" Kennedy sighed as she zipped up her purple jacket. "Um, Scarlett... Scarlett... Right, I was talking with some footballer, and he mentioned it. His name was... Mark? Mike? Something with an M."

Ice flooded Vanessa's veins. She swallowed nervously, steeled her nerves, then asked, "You don't mean... Max, do you?"

"Yes! Max!"

Vision blurring slightly, Vanessa fought through the nausea and muttered, "T-thanks, Kennedy. That's all I needed."

Kennedy said something. Vanessa didn't hear it. She sat down, every nerve in her body focused on not throwing up. The world around her spun and vertigo set in as she tried to right herself, when a calming voice punctured the chaos.

"Vanessa! C'mon, deep breaths. Look at me, focus on my voice."

Nodding absentmindedly, Vanessa did as she was asked. She took a deep, shaky breath, and released it just as haphazardly. She forced her eyes to focus on the person in front of her, Scarlett's dark hair and pale skin slowly coming into focus.

"Hey, do you think lasagna would vote Green Party or Libertarian?" Scarlett asked.

The spinning stopped. Vanessa was so utterly perplexed by the ghost's question that her earlier panic seemed trivial. "I... What? What does that have to do with anything?"

Scarlett shrugged. "Just something I read about once. Sometimes totally random bullshit can knock people out of panic attacks and help ground them or whatever. We can't touch, so I figured I'd try something else. Seems like it worked!"

Now surprisingly calm, Vanessa looked around. Kennedy was nowhere to be seen, and she was alone in the viewing area. "She said the rumor came from Max," she muttered.

"You never imagined he would be a suspect, did you?" Scarlett asked.

"He's not a suspect!" Vanessa jumped to her feet. "I know him. He's not a murderer."

The ghost bit her lip nervously. "Look, I know you don't want to hear this, but... it would make sense. He's on the football team. Didn't you say he's got beef with David?"

"I didn't say that, I said he was upset that David wasn't playing well! He was just nervous to bring it up because he's the backup quarterback and he didn't want people thinking that he was trying to steal David's spot on the team!"

"Okay, but you see how that could build resentment, right? If he knows David is playing like shit, and he's mad about it, maybe he starts betting against the team to make himself feel better."

"No! He's a good person; he wouldn't do that!"

"Listen, Blueberry, I know things are complicated because you used to have a crush on the guy, but you need to put your feelings aside for a sec. You're the one that did all that research, dug through all those pictures from David's party that night. If we want to make this right, you need to be honest with yourself. Was Max at that party? If he was, what time was it? If he doesn't have an alibi, we can't rule him out."

Vanessa walked past Scarlett and grabbed the railing overlooking the gymnastics floor. As her eyes flicked between the pommel horses and parallel bars, she rummaged through her memories of all the social media posts she'd found from the night of Scarlett's murder.

I never once considered him a possible suspect, so I wouldn't have bothered checking his timeline. Where was he at dusk?

Her grip tightened. "He's not a murderer. This is a coincidence, and I'm gonna prove it."

Scarlett floated to the railing. "Yeah?"

"David's throwing another party tonight," Vanessa said, recalling the conversations she'd overheard earlier. "We'll go there and talk to the rest of the team. Other people must have heard the same rumor, right? If we pull the other strands, we'll see this is all a coincidence."

"And if it's not?"

"If it's not... we talk to Max."

Scarlett hovered her hand over Vanessa's, pretending to hold it. "Whatever happens, you know I'm here for you, right?"

Vanessa nodded, then forced a smile. As it faded, she slowly headed for the exit. Each step resurfaced new memories, possible moments of suspicion from past interactions with Max, and she tried to distract herself in the same way Scarlett had earlier. "... Why were the only choices Green Party and Libertarian?"

The ghost shrugged. "I dunno. Lasagna's a hipster that hates entrenched parties?"

-----

It was strange to view the drab stone steps leading up to David's apartment as familiar. In months past, the thought of wandering so far off campus had never once crossed her mind, yet tonight she'd navigated here with relative ease. Instead of her skimpy, sparkly dress, she'd instead worn a pair of stylish skinny jeans and a satin top that was more comfortable than it had any right to be. She was presentable enough for her presence to not be questioned, and that's all she cared about.

"Has it seriously only been a week since that party?" Vanessa asked.

"Shit, really? Man. Time flies." Scarlett whistled as she shoved her hands in her pockets. "So, you have a plan?"

"Ask everyone on the team about you, see who's heard the rumor, and trace down the source."

"Okay, that's great and all, but aren't you forgetting something?" Scarlett flew in front of Vanessa. "Someone sent you a cryptic fucking message trying to scare you off! What happens if the killer is here tonight?"

"Even if they are, they're not going to try anything in public. So long as I stay out with the crowds, I'm safe." Vanessa spoke just as much for her own benefit as she did for Scarlett's. "Besides, I've got you, don't I? You can spy on people, make sure no one is stalking me through the party. Whoever the killer is, there's no way they expect that you're helping me out."

"Alright, well... Let's do this. What are your orders, Detective Blueberry?" Scarlett asked.

Vanessa looked around, then removed her earpiece. "Do a quick sweep, get a lay of the land and figure out who's where. Let me know if you find anything suspicious."

With an exaggerated salute, Scarlett flew off towards the party. Vanessa steeled her nerves and climbed the steps, this time prepared for the pounding bass and noxious, drunken fumes she was about to plunge into. She faked a smile as best she could, hoping to blend in, then began hunting for anyone and everyone she could find who'd previously parroted the rumor about Scarlett's suicide.

She moved from group to group, allowing herself a few minutes of pleasant small talk each time before eventually bringing up the rumor. She successfully found several members of the football team that had heard about Scarlett, and even a few other athletes she'd spoken with earlier in the investigation. Each and every one of them pointed the finger at someone else, and each time Vanessa followed the chain as far as she could. No matter who she talked to, no matter how many stories she cross-referenced, she only ever found a single connecting thread.

It always came back to Max.

After nearly an hour of canvassing, the leads began to dry up. Vanessa only had one final chain to follow, and by sheer coincidence, it led her back to Kurt. Based on Scarlett's description of his day-to-day life, she was honestly surprised to see the mechanic out and about. She certainly wasn't upset to have one more person to confront about this rumor.

"Pretty sure it was Max," Kurt said with a sigh. A nearby friend offered him a joint being passed around, but Kurt turned it down. "Can't say when, though. It's been a bit."

"You're sure? Absolutely, one-hundred percent sure?" Vanessa asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Like I said, I don't remember when, but I remember him bringing it up after practice one day." One of Kurt's friends called out to him, and he gestured apologetically to Vanessa before adding, "Sorry, this'll just be a sec, alright?"

As he stepped away, Vanessa retreated to a corner of the back porch. The panic attack she'd narrowly avoided earlier circled ever closer, and she was out of ideas.

"Maybe it means nothing," Scarlett said softly, joining Vanessa at the banister.

"I want to believe that, Scar, I really do," Vanessa mumbled, slouching forward, "but it's one hell of a coincidence. Best case scenario, he says he heard about it from someone else, but how are we supposed to trust him at this point? I want to believe he's not involved in this, but... I just can't stop thinking about how much sense it makes. It's like you said, he's been complaining about David for months. He clearly wants what's best for the team, but Coach Hudson refuses to give him a shot because he's so pumped up about David's reputation. I mean, shit, I can't blame him. Why wouldn't you be excited about a player that's got such a great shot at joining the NFL?"

The back door clicked shut behind Vanessa, and a voice startled her.

"You're not talking about David, are you?" Kurt asked, rejoining the conversation.

"Uh, yeah. Why?" Vanessa muttered, embarrassed that Kurt had caught her talking to a ghost. Hopefully he wouldn't read into it.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I hate to burst your bubble, but that's a load of shit."

Vanessa caught Scarlett's gaze for a moment, both of them wearing the same expression of shock. "I'm sorry, what? He's not going pro after college?"

"He probably could have if he wanted to, but that was never his plan. I had to babysit his drunk ass a few weeks back, and he wouldn't stop ranting and raving about how much he hated Coach Hudson. His record is amazing, yes, and it got him a fantastic scholarship, but his plan was always to switch to Sports Medicine. At some point the Coach pulled him aside and convinced him to pretend that he wanted to join the NFL. Their little ruse got the school a fuckload of attention, and Coach has been riding that high ever since. Shit, I've heard that's half the reason for the new addition at the stadium."

Drumming nervously on the railing, Vanessa absentmindedly repeated the sentiment. "He's not going pro. He's not going pro!"

"Hey, are you alright?" Kurt asked. "You're weirdly excited about this."

"Thank you, Kurt!" Vanessa threw her arms around the mechanic before charging into the house to find David.

"Whoa, hold up, Blueberry!" Scarlett said, flying ahead of Vanessa. "I know you're excited, but this still doesn't prove anything. Max is still the one that spread all those rumors. For all we know, they could be in on this together. Maybe David pushed me off the building and Max decided to tell everyone I killed myself to throw suspicion off his partner in crime."

"There's only one way to find out," Vanessa muttered, dodging strange looks from nearby party goers as she wove through the crowds. "I'm talking to David. Tonight. I'm not leaving until we've figured this out."

Vanessa fought through the crowds as best as she could, desperately looking for any sign of David. The back room had yet to start the beer pong tournament, and when she asked around, a few people mentioned they'd seen David further forward in the house. Based on her last visit, she knew she had two possible routes to get towards the front room, and she decided to try the kitchen first. Unfortunately, an unusually thick crowd blocked her path. As she tried to weave through them, she heard a voice shouting out from the kitchen.

"Yo, David! We're outta beer!"

"The fuck you talkin' about? How the fuck are we out of beer?"

That voice! That's David!

"Hey, I don't know, man. You're the one that's supposed to buy this shit!"

The announcement that the beer had dried up elicited a groan from the crowd blocking Vanessa's path. Unable to find a way through, she decided to double back and take the other route to the front room. As she pushed people out of the way, she craned her neck to listen to the conversation from the kitchen, which proved quite difficult given the music rattling the house.

"Alright, fuck, I'll go get some more," David said. "Max, grab your jacket, will you? I'll need help loading up the car."

Vanessa burst into the front room just as Max opened the front door, which he held open for David. "You want me to drive?"

"Nah, I got it. I haven't had any drinks yet; I was saving that for the tournament later."

Several nearby footballers in Letterman jackets cheered as David left, clearly excited for more booze. As Vanessa struggled to find a way around them, Scarlett flew in front of her with a panicked look on her face. "Blueberry, you've got to stop them. David's a lying sack of shit; I saw him sneaking drinks earlier!"

Nervous sweat dripped down Vanessa's neck as she finally broke through the muscled barricade of partying footballers. She opened the front door, ran down the stairs, and managed to catch Max just before he got in David's car.

"Max, wait up!" she shouted.

Turning around, Max smiled as he saw her. "Vanessa, hey! What's up? You want to come with? Pick out some drinks?"

"Drinks? No, that's not--I just wanted to--"

Wait, what do I say?

"Whatever you do, Blueberry, do NOT get in the car. One of them is the killer, and literally threatened you earlier today!"

Fuck, the threat! What did that even mean? Was the killer threatening me directly? All the threat said was 'Or else' and that's so vague! They must have sent that threat because we're getting close to the truth, and we already know they'll do anything to keep themselves safe. If Max is the killer, and thinks that I want to convince David to spill the beans, then David might be in danger. The same is true if David is the killer, too! And that's not even counting the fact that David is possibly drunk!

"Max, what's the hold up?" David asked. He revved the engine of his needlessly large red truck as he waited for an answer.

"One sec, dude," Max said. "Vanessa, you alright?"

"I... I..."

I need to do something. I have to stop them from leaving, but how do I do that? I can't say David is drunk; I only know that because of Scarlett, and there's no way I'm telling them that I have a ghost following me around. If Max is the killer, I can't risk telling him anything that might tip my hand, but doesn't the killer already know that I'm close?

"Blueberry, say something!" Scarlett shouted.

On the verge of hyperventilating, Vanessa's eyes darted between Max, Scarlett, and the car buzzing with excitement beside them.

I could throw caution to the wind and accuse them of being the killer, but what then? There's no way they'd risk a scene in front of all these people, but then I'd be revealing everything! What if they ask why I'm looking into this in the first place? Everything in my life ties back to Scarlett, and there's no way anyone will believe I'm talking to a ghost! I can't risk saying anything because I might scare them off! Where is Scarlett's body? Why has no one raised a fuss about her disappearance? Could Max honestly kill someone and be fine with it?

Every single question merged together into a thought too big to process, and Vanessa couldn't muster a single sentence.

"Okay... Um, look, we'll be back in a few minutes alright?" Max said. Vanessa watched in horror as Max jumped into the car beside David and closed the door. The engine revved again, then David flicked on the lights and pulled out of his parking spot. It only took a few seconds for the car to speed out of sight, and once Vanessa processed its disappearance, she collapsed onto the ground.

"Blueberry, are you okay? What happened?" Scarlett asked, flying closer.

"I-I couldn't.... I didn't know what to say. I panicked, and I froze, and I... I..." Tears streaked down her face. "Oh God, what if something happens? What if one of them is the killer and tries to hurt the other and it's all my fault for coming to this stupid party and--"

"Hey!" Scarlett snapped. "Nothing's gonna happen, alright? And even if it does, it's not your fault."

"You can't say that for sure!" Vanessa protested. "What if I tipped my hand by coming here?"

"Blueberry, I'm the fucking queen of blaming myself for everything, and I can tell you from personal experience that it doesn't matter in the end." After an awkward silence, Scarlett sighed and lowered her voice. "Do you know what I can promise? People in the house are giving you weird looks because you're collapsed bow-legged on the sidewalk. How about you grab some water and find a place to sit down for a while. We can talk to David when he gets back, alright?"

"O-okay..."

Forcing herself to her feet, Vanessa trudged up the front stairs and pushed open the front door. She joined the line for the bar--which was shorter than usual, given the lack of beer--before successfully walking away with a cheap bottle of water. The pulsing rhythm of the music coming from the basement agitated her, and she ended up fleeing to the back porch. She grabbed a seat on the back steps, drained half the water bottle, then sat in silence with her own thoughts. She thought of all the possible things she could have told Max, and each time she thought of a dozen reasons why that particular line probably wouldn't have worked.

After a veritable eternity of stewing in her own thoughts, an unusual buzz of excitement pulled her attention back to the house. Nervous that David and Max were already back, she tried to think of a good explanation for her earlier behavior. Venturing inside, however, she failed to find the excited mutterings of students eager for a cheap drink. She saw multiple groups of people crowding around several students with phones.

"What's going on?" Vanessa asked, joining the nearest group. She pushed onto her tip toes to try and catch a glimpse of the nearest phone.

"Fuck if I know," a stranger nearby muttered. "Carlos is live on Instagram or some shit?"

Inching closer and closer to the source of the commotion, Vanessa finally caught a glimpse of the phone screen. Red and blue lights flashed in the middle of a bright intersection. A crowd gathered on the opposite side of the screen as if it were a mirror, everyone outside just as curious. Carlos, whoever he was, lifted the phone as high as he could and finally turned the camera to the source of the commotion.

A towering streetlight angled dangerously close to the curb, its base partially ripped out of the ground. Cops pushed the gathering crowd away from the accident, asking for calm as they established a perimeter. Wrapped around the metal pole was the source of the destruction: an oversized red truck that Vanessa immediately recognized.

Vanessa stumbled backwards, crashing into the crowd behind her. "Oh God. Max!"