Riley
"How was therapy?" Ryan said as both he and I sat on my bed, me twiddling my thumbs on my lap.
"Good," I answered.
"You dodged all the questions," Ryan said, eyes dimming, "didn't you?"
"I don't have time for therapy," I said cynically. "I want to know who killed Bella."
"You can't solve all murders, Riley," Ryan stated. "I'm serious, you're going to go crazy. You're a nineteen-year-old high-schooler, not a fucking detective."
"I'm not a normal teen," I stated, "you know that. I'm not saying I have special magic powers that somehow make me emotionless, but I can control myself."
"Don't you consider this an unhealthy obsession?" Ryan questioned. "Because that's what this is, you're obsessing."
I glared at him, then. "You think wanting to know who murdered my best friend is considered an obsession?" My eyes dimmed. "You don't know me Ryan," I stated. "That's why I decided to dump you when we were dating."
He flinched as if my words were knives, and gazed back at me. "We left on good terms," he stated. "Why are you still angry with me?"
"I'm not," I answered, standing up and stepping over to my desk, sitting in the chair while twirling around until I faced him. "I'm irritated because everybody is telling me to chill out about this. Bella and I were close, you have no idea."
"You don't know if it was a murder," Ryan stated. "The police found evidence that stated otherwise."
"I know it was a murder," I told him. "She would never kill herself, and there were no signs of minor injuries indicating manslaughter. If she was murdered on accident, there wouldn't have been so many injuries, Ryan. I know my friend, you don't."
He was silent for a moment, eyeing me. "You know what you're doing to yourself is dangerous, Riley."
"I know what I know," I answered, eyes narrowing. "And I don't need you judging my opinions. Another reason why you're not boyfriend material, Ryan; you judge everything I do."
"Still thought good terms," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now I suspect you have some kind of grudge on me, Riley."
I rolled my eyes and looked back to my desk, getting to work on my drawing.
"Wow," he said, "now you're ignoring me? At this rate you could just tell me to piss off and slam the door in my face."
I waved to my bedroom door. "You're free to leave whenever you want, Ryan. I didn't chain you to the bed."
I heard him slouch back on the mattress.
"Ah," he said, "no, I'm good right now, Riley. I'm not leaving you alone." He threw his hands up. "Who knows? Maybe you'll accept me for who I am and let us move forward."
"For the hundredth time," I growled. "I'm not having sex with you, Ryan."
He sat up on my bed. "Why not, huh? Why? What's it about me that you don't like?" He paused. "Are you listening?"
"I'm trying not to."
"Fuck, Riley," he said, glaring at me, "you're being a bitch right now, I think you should know."
"That's nothing new," I told him cynically.
"When I kiss you, you always draw away."
"Because I'm not in the mood, and when you keep pushing, I'm more not in the mood."
He sighed, lying back down on the bed. "I'm not leaving without a goodbye kiss. One on the throat for a full minute, Kay?"
"That's called sexual assault and breaking and entering."
"Is it?" he said then. "It's not assault if you want it, and you let me in the house."
"For one, I don't want you to kiss me, so yes, that's assault. And two? You barged in here without my permission—I did not let you in—so yes, that's breaking and entering."
"Stop playing hard to get and come over here already."
I spun around to snap at him, but paused, staring down at the floor next to my window.
"What?" Ryan said, sitting up on my bed with his shirt slightly exposing his stomach.
There was something clearly seductive about his pose.
I got up off my desk chair then, stepping carefully over to the window and kneeled down to the floor, picking up a black feather that lay on the floor before me.
"A feather?" Ryan said. "Really? Now are you suddenly distracted like a fucking dog or what?"
"Where did it come from?" I said more to myself, standing and leaning out the window, my brown hair blowing gently in the breeze as it curled in the humidity.
But when I looked down to the ground below, I saw a figure there, clothes covered in shadows as the cloak he wore waved around him in the wind.
But... what...?
I narrowed my eyes, staring down at his face that was half-masked in shadows.
But... he was wearing something on his eyes... and there was a feather attached to it, and both sides of his head consisted of horns.
My breath caught, eyes widening.
He was wearing a masquerade mask, one that looked like a demon, but it had beautiful golden embroidery and a crown centered at the top.
But who was he...? And why was he dressed like that?
When I opened my mouth to question him, he pressed his finger to his lips, telling me to be silent.
He pointed to the roof, and when I gazed at one of the tiles, there was a piece of paper flapping in the wind, and I reached out to grab it, currently forgetting about Ryan.
When I gazed back up at the mysterious guy, he pressed his finger to his lips again and stepped back into the shadows.
I leaned back over the window, searching the darkness for him, but he was gone.
The feather must've been from his mask.
But who was he...?
"What was that about?" Ryan questioned from behind me, and I nearly jumped. His hands snaked around my waist and threaded through the fabric of my shirt. "You want everyone to watch?"
"Nothing happened," I answered, pushing the paper and the feather into my pocket and turned, throwing his hands off me. "And don't touch me."
Ryan eyed me suspiciously for a moment. "You really good at playing hard to get, aren't you?"
"Back off." I brushed past him.
He rolled his eyes, and glared at me. "When are you going to ease up around me?"
"When you stop emitting rapist vibes," I answered.
His glare sharpened, and he stepped out of my room. "Whatever, it's late and we have school tomorrow. Night."
"Night," I said as he left my room, then muttered to myself, "Thank fucking god. He finally left."
After a couple seconds of hearing the front door close, I shut my bedroom door and shuffled the paper out of my pocket.
It was a note, and I blinked in confusion for a moment before I opened the folded paper, gazing curiously down at the writing seconds later.
Meet me at the bridge on Coal Street. If you don't feel safe alone, bring a friend, but don't bring your boyfriend. I am here to answer your questions about recent events.
I squinted down at the paper.
Huh?
Who was my boyfriend? This was news to me.
I looked down at the signature down at the paper, eyeing it curiously for a moment.
P.
So his name started with the letter P... Was it Perry? Peach? Patrick?
Or was it a girl?
I shook my head, pulling my phone out of my pocket. No, he gave me the option to bring a friend, so this was worth something. He didn't have any red flags...
Well... major ones.
And a part of me pleaded to see him.
He must've had answers about Bella's death. He must've.
Meet me at the park on Summit Road, I texted my friend.
Uh, why? she texted back.
Just do it, I answered, trust me.
Okay, see you in five.
I smiled at her lack of questioning.
So I grabbed my phone and stuffed it in my purse, throwing it over my shoulder as I darted down the stairs to find my mom there, typing frantically on her work computer.
"Hey, mom!" I said, Violet looking up at my voice.
"Oh," she answered, "hey, Honey. Going somewhere?"
She probably noticed my purse and jacket were on.
"Yeah," I responded, "I'm meeting my friend."
"Just be careful," Violet said a little sternly. "You have your taser?"
I nodded.
"Okay, go on," she said. "And remember, any slight trouble and you text the code word to me. What is it? Do you remember?"
I nodded. "'Peanut butter.'"
Violet smiled. "Be back before ten."
"Thanks, mom." And I darted out the front door.
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