Class Of 96': 1994 (BxB Mystery)

Chapter XXX - "?"

 "Did I . . . do anything wrong?"

"Did you?" He draws a sharp breath and raises a brow.

I wasn't able to answer that.

Me and the police officer stood outside. Me all clammed up while he leaned against the wall. Did he even care at all? It doesn't look so. But that's good, right? Means I'm not in trouble . . . I think.

He ignores my silence. "My name's Jun Vegas."

No wonder this man looked so much like Naomi Vegas. With his jet black hair and fox eyes. This was his dad.

"Can I call you Steph?"

" . . . "

"I just have a few questions for you, Steph."

I nervously nodded. This is nothing. I didn't do anything wrong. Nothing to worry about.

Officer Vegas sighed, scrutinizing me. "Where were you the night of October thirty-one, around eleven PM?"

I gasped.

The moment I've been fearing the most has finally caught up to me. Astra reported me. The night of Halloween, I was eavesdropping in an attack scene and, regretfully, I ran away. I should have just owned up to it and told Astra and Neon the truth when I still had the chance. Now they've got the wrong idea and I'm screwed.

Officer Vegas must've caught on my guilty act. He stood there, analyzing my every move.

I need to tell him the truth.

Even if I can barely speak.

"I was—" I stammer on my words. My throat hardened and froze, making it nearly impossible to talk. Even a croak would've scratched my neck. "I was at the party."

"Everybody was."

"I . . . " My fingernails start scraping away at the skin of my thumb, restless and fidgety. "I was taking ph-photos of people . . ? Uhm . . . for The Cassius Post. I'm the photographer for our academy's newspaper committee."

"Did you see anything . . . " He shrugs. "Suspicious?"

I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. I remember how that night, I saw The Hazard. At least I think so.

" Well, uhm, while I was taking pictures, I saw this—" I furrowed my brows and looked down at my shoes. "Uhm . . . "

"Hey, listen." Officer Vegas sighs but doesn't seem impatient. "If you're innocent, you've got nothing to worry about. I promise you."

A spark hits.

" . . . What?"

He shifts. "Something bothering you?"

I freeze. Dead cold.

Oh my God. This man. This policeman . . . is interrogating me.

"Are you . . . " My voice lowers to a scared, terrified whisper. "Interrogating me?"

"Does it seem like it?" He asks, not a tad fazed.

" . . . Am I a suspect?"

"Do you feel like one?"

I pause. Yes, I feel like one.

Instead, I answer him with a horrified, confused face and nothing but silence.

"Steph, tell me," He takes a deep breath in. "Do you feel like a suspect?"

"N-no. No, I don't feel like one." Liar. "I didn't do anything wrong."

He raises a brow. "Then if you didn't do anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about. Now answer me. What did you see on the night of Halloween?"

" . . . I saw a figure."

Only then did he show any emotion. Eagerness. "What did this figure look like?"

I remember the horrors of that night. The horrors of seeing The Hazard. The horrors of seeing Neon and Astra. And the horrors of true grief plastered on Neon's face.

"The Hazard." Just the tang of that name sent shudders through my shoulders. I hate it.

A small glint of light shot through Officer Vegas' black eyes. His lip twitched. "What did they look like?"

I bit down a ball of fright, scratching my thumb harder. "Black motorcycle helmet . . . black leather jacket . . . and . . . and this—" I choked. The bitter taste of fear rolled around my mouth, stinging my tongue. I could describe The Hazard in a thousand different ways. In a thousand blood-curdling ways. But I simply couldn't.

"Noted. And how did you see them?"

" . . . " In my terrified mind, every passing of a car sounded as loud as a scream. My heart began to hammer on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Only shallow breaths escaped my lips. " . . . I was walking. It was crowded. But I had this . . . gut feeling. L-Like someone was watching me . . . So I turned around."

"And you saw The Hazard."

" . . . "

He didn't seem to believe me. But he also seemed to trust me. I can't read this man. His only emotion is . . . blank.

"Okay. Are you still with me, Steph?"

I faltered my words. I was so confused and scared, I just couldn't register his questions anymore. " . . . "

It felt like he just asked me that to get my attention. It was nothing but protocol. He didn't care. He was just doing his job. "Next question. Did you know Luka Alexeev?"

'Good morning, Steph.' Luka once said to me with a caring smile. After the attack, I last saw him. His smile was slashed off by a tight scowl.

"Yes." This was the only thing I've said with firm confidence. Luka was a friend. And it doesn't matter if he doesn't see me as one anymore. I still do. "I knew Luka."

The slightest of emotion curled the ends of his lips. He wrapped everything off with a nod. "That's it, kid. Don't get into trouble."

As he walked away, I felt my legs giving in, trembling.

Officer Vegas wasn't done with me. I knew that.

He wasn't done with me because he didn't bring up the real subject:

Astra.