Until We Meet Again(32)

cocking his head triumphantly.

I glance past him again, looking to see if someone else is in

the car. “Oh, is this a double with Travis?”

Brandon frowns. “Travis?”

“Well, if anyone can get us into Mancuso’s, it’s him.”

“What are you talking about?”

I hold up my hands, defensively. “Hey, don’t be offended. It’s

no mark of superior character that his dad is better connected.

I’m merely making an observation.”

But Brandon is still confused. If anything, he looks more

puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”

I roll my eyes. “Um, Travis? You know, your best friend.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Ha-ha,” I say deadpan. “You’re killing me, Brandon. Stop. I

might die from laughing.”

Brandon seems exasperated. “I’m not joking! Who’s Travis?

Does he live in Crest Harbor?”

“No, he’s actually from Outer Mongolia. That’s why he likes

to come here for summer vacations. All that yurt living can be

hard on the spine.”

Brandon just stares. I fold my arms across my chest.

“Where is Travis? Did he put you up to this? I bet your phone

is on right now, and he’s listening to every word, isn’t he? Hi,

Travis. Nice attempt, but try again.”

Now Brandon seems concerned. “Are you okay, Cass?”

“Excuse me?” I scoff.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it up to show

me. It’s off.

“I’m not joking right,” he says slowly. “I don’t have any clue

who you’re talking about. I’m racking my brain, but the only

Travis I know is my eight-year-old nephew, and I don’t think

you mean him.”

He seems completely sincere. I never took Brandon for much

of an actor. He’s either improved a thousand percent or he has

shortterm

amnesia.

I stare hard at him. “You’re telling me that you don’t know

Travis Howard?”

The moment I say his full name, a light snaps on in my brain.

That’s it! That’s what was bothering me about my conversation with Lawrence this morning. His friend who died…his last name was Howard.

The air in the room suddenly feels thin. There’s a faint ringing

in my ears.

“Travis Howard,” I say.

He shakes his head. “Never heard of him.”

I take a staggering step backwards. My lungs suddenly seem

incapable of drawing in a breath. Then a thought comes to me,

and the only thing that matters is getting to my phone. I make

a beeline for the stairs.

“Cass?” Brandon runs after me. “What are you doing?”

I don’t respond. My mind is racing so fast that I can’t grab on

to a single thought. My cell phone sits on my desk. I grab it and

turn it on. Brandon comes to my doorway, his brow furrowed.

“Are you okay? Cass, talk to me.”

I swipe a hand at him to make him shut up. “I have a picture

of Travis. From the night we jumped the Andersons’ fence.”

“That was just me and you, Cass.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Travis was there. We took a picture. I’ll

prove it to you.”

Fingers trembling, I slide through my photos. A few pictures

of Eddie. Some shots of me looking bored that I sent to Jade.

A picture of the house exterior from when we first came here.

And then…I’m back in Ohio, waving to Jade at the airport.

Frowning, I scan through the pictures. It was there. It was right

there. The selfie we took in front of the fence. Travis put his

arm around me. I made an ironic thumbs up gesture.

It’s gone.

“It was here,” I say, my voice weak. “I had…I had a picture

of him.”

Brandon comes cautiously into my room. “Cass. I don’t know

what you’re talking about. That night, it was just you and me.

I’ve never even heard of a Travis Howard. I think you might be

confusing him with someone you knew in Ohio.”

I shake my head. “No. No.” I scan through the pictures again.

Nothing. No texts. His name is missing from my contacts.

With a trembling hand, I pull up Facebook. The only Travis

Howards are people I’ve never met. He’s gone. There’s no trace

of him.

I look up and back away from Brandon. “This can’t be

happening.”

He stares at me, concerned and weirded out. “What’s going

on, Cass? You’re super pale all the sudden.”

The floor feels unsteady beneath me. Dinner suddenly rises

in my stomach.

“I want you to leave,” I say, backing up.

“Cass—”

“Now.…please.”

He puts up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll take off, let you