"Pretty girls like you get lost in these woods all the time, Alexa."
On the night of Sebastián's annual Beginning of Summer Bash, amiable and adventurous Melody Tryniski went missing. What might have appeared as a juvenile escapade - a casual incide...
Levittown's local library September 22, 2018 6:17 p.m.
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CHRISTOPHER'S WARM TOUCH STILL lingers on my skin. The pressure of his thumb rubbing circles on my hip is indented to my flesh, tickling goosebumps on my gentle spot. To have him so close to me, close enough to smell the nicotine in his breath and see the longing in his eyes, was the equivalent of soft kisses shared in the dark and tight gripping of skin made under white sheets. It is the equivalent—I still feel him so close.
His blue eyes have always been honest, open windows to his soul, but they also hold an array of complicated emotions. For a moment, all those troubled emotions dissipated to make way for an unapologetic lust. He wanted me as much as I want him and, although his is fleeting, mine is forever present. My fingers touch the patch of skin that he marked with warmness and cigarette residue, the contact electrifying on my fingertips.
It's not that he thinks I'm capable of murder, he just thinks I'd cover for whoever did it.
A shiver runs down my spine, icy and uncomfortable. His words stay in my mind, repeating themselves like a broken record, until his sweet voice changes to a deep, sinister one. I know he's not capable of covering for someone, let alone murdering Melody, but there's something about the way he spoke of these unknown outsiders. They seem more ominous than real, as if they only exist beyond the restraints of Levittown.
The air around me stifles with the smell of plastic mixed with fig, clove and jasmine. It's sharp by the cold that surrounds the room, coming from an air conditioner hidden somewhere inside. Somehow, the cold reminds me of Melody and another shiver runs through my body. I rub my arms, the warmth blazing with the friction of my skin, and close my eyes for a moment.
In the darkness, Melody stares at me without blinking. Blood pools from her chapped lips, tainting everything red—her pale cheeks, her brown hair, the floor that carries her dead body, and my hands. There's blood in my hands, a churning in my stomach, a darkness shielding my heart. What have I done?
My eyes open to the sight of a polished office area. The walls that surround me are beige, and they absorb the orange light that comes from the fiberglass window on the library's far end. The natural orange light dominates over the artificial white one that comes from the ceiling. Why are the lights on if the sun illuminates the entire place?
I press my body on the edge of the front desk, standing on my tiptoes to see if Sebastián is somewhere in the back. When I don't see his dreadlocks anywhere, I sigh and look behind. Some people from school are sitting on the rectangular wooden tables scattered around the library's center, concentrated on their homework and conversing with their friends. Everyone's all smiles and laughter, unaffected by our pain. We used to come here after school with the excuse of having homework and always left with barely finished assignments. Now Melody's dead.
