A Conversation

Curled up last night in bed with Lilly, trying to go to sleep, she asked, "You love me, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
"It's okay, you know."
"It's not."
"I think I'm going to love you, too, when this is over."
"Not now?"
"I'm scared to shit. This thing with Tommy is fucked up. I never thought anything could be this fucked up. I need you. I think that without you, I might run off into the woods myself. Either that or never come out of bed again." 

Then, after a minute of silence:  "Do you think they'll find him?"
"Eventually."
"I don't think I could ever see him again."
"Maybe you'll never have to."
More silence.

"If this all blows up in our faces, will you stay with me?"
"Of course."
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. All I wanted to do was scare him. I didn't intend... well... whatever did happen."
"It'll turn out okay."
"What if it doesn't?"

I couldn't answer her. I just stroked her hair behind her ear until we fell asleep.      

Untitled

Lilly and I are allowed to be inseparable now.
No sight of Tommy.
One of the investigating policemen wanted to talk to me and Lilly again today, separately. I can't speak for what he asked her. The guy quizzed me about whether Tommy ever acted strangely or if he was involved in anything shady. Apparently they've been through his room, and apparently they found a few things "troubling." Color me surprised.

We're left shaking in our boots.
If Tommy ever shows up - if anyone ever finds out what happened right before he disappeared - that it was tied up in the biggest drug story in the state this year...
There wouldn't be a damn thing left to do.

A Very Bad Call

Everyone is asking questions.
Nothing ever happens here, and now this kid is missing.
They've been especially hard on Lilly. We told everyone who asked that yes, Tommy was supposed to see us that afternoon, but he never made it. Various people talked to us first together, then apart. Publicly, I'm consoling my distraught best friend while the town looks for her missing boyfriend. Privately, we're both freaking the fuck out.
Where is he? Why didn't he come back? Is he lost? Is he still lost? Is he playing some sort of cruel joke, or waiting to exact his revenge? Should we be scared? Of whom? Tommy or the police?

A Bad Call

Tommy didn't reappear that night like we thought. In fact, no one's seen him since. Lilly and I established that he must have climbed out the window, come out of the drop relatively unscathed, and then managed to take off somewhere. Given what happened with Will, we guessed he ran into the woods.
We've been constantly in each other's company since we realized Tommy really was missing. It's a problem. Both our mothers are on the verge of asking questions, but they can't seem to pry us apart long enough to do so. I'm trying to think of something plausible.

The Execution

Tommy was still fine when I got there. He seemed grumpy. I assumed he was pissed that his "X" wasn't doing him any good. Lilly must have ordered him to keep his mouth shut about it. He looked at her pointedly a few times, but she didn't budge. When Tommy started to look really irritated and moved to sit on the floor, Lilly and I went out to her back yard for a very long smoke break.

It started with small things. Lilly and I would say words wrong on purpose, then deny it. We started to talk to each other in surreal nonsense, and our laughter only made Tommy frustrated with us. Suddenly, Lilly turned off the TV that she'd left grumbling in the background and stared directly at Tommy. I tried to follow suit, but Lilly kept on so long that I gave up. I don't know what Tommy thought was happening, but he looked uncomfortable.
"I know what you did," she started.
"What?" he asked.
She was silent.
"What did I do?" he pressed.
"Take off your shirt."
Tommy looked at me, then looked at Lilly, and then shook his head. "I don't have to!" he announced.
"Take off your damn shirt!" Lilly almost growled when she said this. She got up from her chair, walked over to Tommy, still on the floor, and wrestled his shirt off him. He stared at himself for a while. I remember thinking that he looked confused.
When he finally looked back up, Lilly was ready to stare him down again. She was completely absorbed in it - she didn't look up at me once. "I know, Tommy," she told him.
Tommy looked like he genuinely didn't understand. I felt bad for him in that moment. Lilly, apparently, did not. She crouched down to meet him eye to eye, then reached out and grabbed the multicolored bruise on his shoulder. Tommy looked at me. Lilly slapped him in response.
I thought maybe she was done. She stood up, walked back over the to the TV, then started to put on a DVD. She pressed play, and in one fluid motion, walked across the room, grabbed my wrist, and closed her bedroom door behind us. She produced a chair and spent some time shoving it under the doorknob.
"Have you ever heard of Cannibal Holocaust?" she asked me.
"No."
"Maybe one of the goriest movies ever made. Banned in a lot of places. It's so bad, some people thought it was a legitimate snuff film. Anyway, I just started it."
"How long are you going to leave him in there?"
"Till the movie's over."

When we opened the door to let Tommy out, he was gone.  

In Which Lilly Executes Her Plan

I didn't know how angry Lilly was until she told me what she wanted to do.
She said something along the lines of: "I want to get him back. I want to dose him. I want to make it a living hell."
She meant the funny stuff. She wanted to screw him up good and then fuck with him. I told her she couldn't do that.

"What if I already did?"
"What?"
"I told him we would go rolling. I crushed up an Excedrin and gave him Will's shit. About fifteen minutes ago."
"Lilly!"
"Come over."
"No."
"Please?"

So I'm about to get in my car and drive over to her house.