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“Dude, that was so close!” It was, in fact, not very close.
I’m not the only one who has spotted Mickey’s body lying five floors down, his head cracked open like a cantaloupe on the concrete.
Oh shit
Adrian Ellis is flat-out lying about his whereabouts last night. I stare at him.
Probably a useless observation, but this whole display, it just feels so… Hollow. Fake. The grief of Mickey’s mom? That was real. The mysterious girl who vanished the moment I noticed her? Also real. This does not feel real.
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I was fortunate enough to be in the library when Mickey jumped.” Too quietly for anyone else but him to hear, I say, “No, you weren’t. You’re lying.” Now that gets his attention.
“I suppose you’re right,” he says, “Not in the library when it happened. On my way out.” “No,” I retort, “You weren’t in the library. You were in the boys’ dorm when it happened.
“I think you might be mistaking me for someone else.” And before I can refute that, he tugs his sleeve from my grip. “Excuse me. I think I see a classmate trying to get my attention.”
don’t think I caught your name.” I swallow. “Poppy.”
He’s an Ellis. That name might as well be royalty in this country.” Her mouth quirks into the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from her. “Well, I’m from Canada.”
You are formally invited to an Autumn Bash Hosted by Adrian Ellis
I look forward to seeing you, Poppy Adrian
But why do I kinda like this lol
says, “Unfortunately, Detective Mills is no longer an officer at our department, but I can direct you to another one of our detectives.” She can’t see it, but my jaw drops open. “What do you mean? She doesn’t work there anymore?” “No, ma’am.” “But she worked there last week.” “Yes, ma’am.” “I don’t – what happened?”
“That’s not information I’m able to give out,” she replies. “I don’t understand,” I repeat. “She was investigating a case just a few days ago. How can she no longer work there?”
“Detective Mills was terminated for inappropriate investigation practices. That’s all I’m allowed to tell you. Now, if there’s anything else, I’ll need to direct you to someone else."
“Does anyone know how many calories are in a line of coke? I can’t afford to wreck my diet.”
Bhahahahahaha
And it confirms every uncomfortable gut feeling I’ve had this entire time…but so much worse. It’s scrawled right there on the page, in what very well may be Mickey’s final words.
Well-
“So, what if I did? Are you going to kill me too?” He’s less than a foot from me now, his angular face bathed in the light of the crackling flames.
“Not right now. You’ve just become the most interesting thing on campus, Poppy Davis.”
Hehe
So, I drink more coffee than any adult should reasonably consume within a twenty-four-hour period, grab my laptop, and get to work.
“Hey, Poppy” before continuing to his table. I practically choke on a bite of pasta salad but manage back a hoarse, “Hey, Freddy.”
when I catch Adrian’s gaze – and he begins striding confidently in my direction. No, no, do not come over here.
“Is this seat taken?” He’s smiling. He’s smiling at me.
“Would you go away if I said yes?”
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Well, you got me thinking the other night. About how I need a little more honesty in my life.” I stiffen. “Are you sure you know the definition of the word?”
“I’m a quick learner.”
“Do you still draw?”
“I told you on Friday. You’re the most interesting thing on campus,”
“So, I did my research. I wanted to learn more about you.” “You wanted to know how much of a threat I am,” I correct.
“I do. I just didn’t have the time in my schedule.” “Good. I want to see your art.” A disbelieving laugh escapes me. “What?” Of all the things I expected to come out of his mouth, that request was not it. He just blinks at me. “I want to see your art.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious,” he replies. “You rifled through my personal effects. Don’t I get the same privilege?”
Welp… he got her there
“You can hijack my lunch hour, but I’m not showing you my art. You’ll have to stay curious.” It comes out a lot steadier than expected. He sighs like he’s disappointed. “And here I was hoping we could be friends." I scoff. “You don’t want to be friends with me.”
“Right now, I don’t know what I want to do with you, Poppy.
“I don’t want to talk about Mickey. I don’t find Mickey interesting. I find you interesting.”
“Tonight. You indulge my curiosity, and I’ll indulge yours.”
“Actually, I had the second highest.” He shoots me a lopsided smile, empty of remorse. “Well, highest now.”
“You’re right. You’re not good.”
“Well, you’re the one who wanted to see my art so bad. If you had high expectations, that’s on you.” “You’re not good,”
“You’re incredible.”
“Wait, you don’t need to see that –” I reach for the sketchbook, but he effortlessly holds it out of reach. “That’s nothing –”
“This is not nothing,”
“Is this supposed to be –” “No, of course not,”
“These are my eyes,”
“It’s not my face, but these a...
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“You dre...
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“No…but these are my eyes,” he says. “The eyes never lie. Did you know that the human iris is more unique than a fingerprint? All these little patterns and shadows you’ve so accurately drawn here? Those are mine.”
“Like your eyes,”
“Light brown speckled with dark.”
