The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett(16)

Christa got a look on her face, which I was super familiar with from my time at Griffin Mills High School. Her eyes went wide, and she cast furtive glances around the dining room. It was the look of someone who wanted to gossip. She lowered her voice and leaned over the counter. “You know about Lizzie Lovett, right? The girl who’s missing?”

I tried to keep my face neutral, as if Lizzie was just a name from a newspaper article.

“Sure,” I said. “Everyone knows about her.”

“Well, she worked here.”

“Really?”

Christa nodded. “At first, Mr. Walczak was holding Lizzie’s job for her, ’cause we all thought she’d come back. Then yesterday, he started talking about putting a listing in the newspaper just in case.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. So you think she’s gone for good?”

Christa lowered her voice even more. “I don’t know for sure, but I think her disappearance has something to do with her boyfriend. I always thought he was a weirdo.”

I wanted to tell her weirdo and killer aren’t always the same thing, but that would likely blow my slick super-spy cover, so I didn’t.

“You think he killed her?” I asked.

“I’m not saying he killed her. Not for sure, anyway. I just think it’s all a little suspicious.”

“Like her being in the woods in the first place,” I said. “She doesn’t seem like the outdoorsy type.”

“Oh, no.” Christa shook her head. “That part isn’t suspicious. Lizzie is totally into camping and hiking. She went out in the woods all the time. Looking for wolves or something.”

Well, that wasn’t what I expected to hear.

“Wolves?” I asked.

“Weird, right?”

It was weird.

“Personally, the last thing I’d do is go looking for a wild animal,” Christa said. “I don’t even like domesticated ones. My sister has a dog, and her entire house is covered with fur.”

Before I could pump Christa for more information about Lizzie, a nervous-looking man with a ruddy complexion came out of the kitchen and told me to follow him to his office. I hadn’t planned on taking the charade that far. I wasn’t ready for another mini golf experience, especially when I’d probably get fired as soon as Lizzie decided to come back.

But I sat down in the manager’s office. I answered his questions and told him I thought I’d be a really, really great waitress. At the end of the interview, when he shook my hand and said I’d be a welcome addition to their staff, I knew I’d reached the point of no return.

? ? ?

I couldn’t sleep that night. It was close to midnight, and I was lying on the swing on the front porch. Maybe my insomnia wouldn’t have been a big deal if I had Saturday night plans like everyone else in the entire school. Everyone else was probably at parties. Everyone else was enjoying what some people would call the “best years of life.” Not me. I was hanging out alone on my front porch.

Sometimes, when it’s late at night and I’m feeling especially lonely, I think about middle school me. Eighth-grade Hawthorn knew what high school was supposed to be like. I’d watched movies, read books, attended high school football games, and heard stories from Rush. I knew exactly what to expect.

And then I got there, and it was all wrong.

Actually, my expectations weren’t wrong. I was. High school was full of crazy adventures and friendships and dating and stuff. It’s just, it was wrong for me. I didn’t know how to be a part of all that or even if I really wanted to be.

Which made it impossible to get excited about applying to college. Because I had certain expectations of that too. And if they were as spectacularly misguided as my expectations for high school, I had another string of disappointments waiting right around the corner.

I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. Tried not to think of next year and how dissatisfying it would probably be. I tried not to think of anything at all. I just wanted the night to end. The whole week, really.

But I couldn’t turn off my brain. Even though I was tired, I couldn’t stop thinking of high school and college and everything that came after. Sometimes, it felt like I’d already missed my chance to become something awesome. I was too old to find out I was a musical prodigy or a child genius or a superhero. I wasn’t even awesome in an ordinary way. Like Lizzie.

I bet she was never alone on a Saturday night. Not in high school for sure. A party wasn’t a party unless Lizzie Lovett showed up. My brother was at those parties. Him and all the other jocks. He was probably at a party that very minute, drinking beer with his friends while they discussed their old friend who was lost in the woods.

Where was Lizzie Lovett? Six days in the woods without any supplies. She couldn’t have gotten far. How did she just disappear? How was there no trace of her around Wolf Creek when so many people were looking so hard? I wondered how many people would search for me if I went missing. My guess was not a lot.

I yawned. My mind kept skipping around like it usually does right before I drift off. But I didn’t want to go inside yet. Was Lizzie outside too? Was she looking up at the moon at the same time I was?

I wondered why it was called Wolf Creek anyway. For that matter, I wondered what Lizzie was doing looking for wolves in the first place. There aren’t wolves in Ohio. Except…