Don't Look Back(14)

“Money is on my dad’s side of the family,” he explained proudly. “And it’s on your mom’s side. Her family invested in the railroad before it took off or something. She’s not a billionaire, nowhere close to the kind of capital my father brings in, but she’s old money.”

I struggled to not roll my eyes. “Do you know what my dad did before he met my mom?”

He shrugged. “He went to Yale, obviously, on a scholarship. I think his mom was a schoolteacher and his dad a construction worker. Both of them passed away a few years back. Sorry.”

I took a moment to mull over the dead grandparents I had no recollection of. That sucked. “Well, I guess he got lucky when he met Mom.”

“Hells yeah, he was.” Del laughed. “He didn’t have anything before he met her. Her father got him in the business. If it wasn’t for your mom, I’m not sure how far your dad would’ve gotten. But my dad was groomed to run the firm—just like I am.” He kissed my cheek again. “And my son will be.”

My eyes widened. His son? Blech, I felt nauseated, allergic to the very idea.

There was a lull in the conversation, and my arm was tingling from being squeezed between our bodies. I briefly considered telling him about the note I’d found but decided against it. “What did I like?”

Del pulled his head back, searching my eyes. “Besides me?”

Okay, not funny. With narrowed eyes, I nodded.

“You like to shop.” Del laughed, running his fingers over my cheek. “Your favorite drink is anything fruity mixed with vodka. You’re a hell of a girl to party with. You’re wild.” This time, when he leaned in, his lips met mine. The kiss was brief. “Okay, usually a lot wilder than that.”

“Sorry.” I flushed. “What I meant was, did I have any hobbies?”

Confusion flickered in his eyes. “Does shopping count as a hobby?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You always liked to visit the old Battlefield area,” he said after a few moments. “You used to go with that chick Julie, and you guys would spend all day there. I think you had a thing for history. Or maybe just the macabre.”

Wow. The only nonshallow thing I did was hang out in a giant graveyard with a girl who wasn’t even my friend anymore. I was really beginning to hate myself. Del talked about the upcoming baseball season for a little while, bitching about Carson’s throwing arm. He was the pitcher, and there was no love between them.

When my mom stopped in and asked if Del would be joining us for dinner, he politely refused. Family was in town. Before he left, I pulled out the picture in my pocket and showed it to him. “Do you know where this was taken?”

Del stared at the picture for several seconds, then turned away. A distant look crept into his eyes, hardening them. “It was actually a couple of months ago, on New Year’s Eve. You guys were freezing in those dresses. Hot, but freezing.” He gave a short laugh. “We were in Philly. You passed out before midnight.”

The more I heard about myself, the more I wanted to slam my head into the coffee table. “Who was with us?”

“Trey, but he passed out, too.”

“So that left just you and Cassie?”

His lips thinned. “Yeah, that night sucked.”

What was strange to me was that he sounded like he couldn’t stand Cassie, but the three or four of us obviously hung out a lot. Did he tolerate her because she was my friend? I sighed. “I wish I could remember something. She’s still out there, and I feel like I’m the only person who can find her.”

Del pulled his arm away and stood. “This is going to sound cruel, but she’s not your problem right now.”

Damn, that was cruel. “But—”

“But you need to focus on getting better and moving on with your life.” He ran a hand through his hair, frowning. “I think it’s best if you just let it go for right now. People are looking for her. You need to take care of yourself.”

My gaze fell to the picture of me and Cassie. I’d thought we looked so happy in this picture, like real best friends, but the more I studied it, the more I saw—the razor-sharp edge to our smiles, the coldness in our near-identical features.

Everyone wanted me to forget about her, to move on. As if this girl wasn’t missing. Like she never existed in the first place, and as I ran my thumb over her side of the picture, I realized I couldn’t do that. Just like I couldn’t be the person I was before. That Samantha was still missing, stuck wherever Cassie was, and maybe she would’ve been able to let Cassie drop, but I couldn’t.





Chapter five





Going back to school so soon had sounded like a bright idea a few days ago, but as I paced my bedroom Monday morning, I was terrified. The yearbooks remained unopened on my desk, and while I should’ve been reacquainting myself with the names and faces of my fellow students, I sucked up time by trying to access my e-mail and Facebook account. No such luck there. Each of the websites showed too many failed log-in attempts, and I couldn’t answer the personal questions to retrieve my information. Was it possible that someone else had been trying to access those accounts? Probably when I was missing. That made sense.

When Scott popped in my bedroom, he handed me a printout of my class schedule. Grateful, I thanked him.