They’d spent three hours getting ready, Hayley wearing an uncharacteristically low-cut tight dress that showed miles of smooth, tan leg. She kept insisting they look their best; she’d been invited by some guy who bought her a mai tai in the Cabo Cantina and told her to bring her hottest friends.
They’d all gone, walking up a winding private road where a pair of burly security guards waved them in. The house was sprawling and modern, a boxy, sculptural structure. Every room burned with light and luxury. Melanie melted into the crowd instantly, gyrating her hips to the music. In the kitchen, Leah caught sight of a guy from her biology class and beelined toward him. Hayley and Bri pushed through the house to the back patio to get their bearings. An enormous pool glowed aquamarine below them, and out beyond that the beach stretched black in the moonlight.
Hayley’s eyes shone, reflecting the bright colored lights of the patio. All weekend, she had alternated between sadness and outraged defiance. She’d be in tears one minute; the next, she’d spin on her heel to face one of her friends and snap, “Chad can’t tell me what to do. Who does he think he is?” She and her boyfriend had broken up for the hundredth time, but that night Hayley looked excited. It was almost as if all the heartbreak had sloughed off her body, like some kind of heavy cocoon, leaving her raw and fresh and new. She and Bri had thrown themselves into the mass of dancing bodies, and for a while, the thrumming bass cleared all thoughts from Bri’s head. She lost track of time, the number of drinks she threw back—and her friends.
Now Bri remembered seeing Leah doing lines of coke off an antique coffee table, holding her long honey-colored hair off her neck as she bent over. She remembered hands running up her hips, a slurring male voice telling her she’d be really hot if she grew her hair out. She remembered seeing flashes of Hayley, leaning up to whisper in the ear of a boy in a perfectly cut white suit, his eyes long lashed and sultry, his lips pouting playfully.
Beyond that everything was a blur. She’d woken up the next morning in a lawn chair by the motel pool, shivering in the early morning chill, her purse tucked under her head. She had no idea how she’d gotten home.
“Did you see her leave the party with someone?” Bri looked at her friends. Both shook their heads slowly.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Melanie said hesitantly. “She’s probably with some guy she met at the party. She’ll come up for air sooner or later.”
“But we promised we’d check in with each other at least once a day. We promised.” Bri’s voice was shriller than she’d meant for it to sound. They’d made a pact on the way down that no matter what they were up to, no matter how much fun they were having, they’d look out for one another. The dark, empty feeling in her gut yawned even wider. She opened her text window and typed a new message.
Where are you? Come meet us for breakfast. Text back ASAP.
All they had to do was wait. Melanie was probably right—Hayley had lost track of time, just like they all had. She was somewhere out there having the time of her life. Still, when Leah and Melanie got up to go to breakfast, Bri shook her head no, her phone clenched in her hand. She sat alone in the motel room, shivering but too tired to change her clothes. She texted Hayley again. And again.
Stop being SELFISH and respond, Hayley.
Everyone’s worried about you. TEXT ME.
That’s it—if we don’t hear from you in ten minutes we’re calling the cops. Totally serious.
Please answer.
Please.