Needy Little Things(16)

“No. I mean, Malcolm turned eighteen today, but no.”

Ms. Jasmine cries harder and something about it irks me. I feel bad for wishing she’d go do that somewhere else, but it’s hard to talk about Deja when her mother is sobbing like she’s never coming back.

“Can you describe what Deja was wearing tonight?” Officer Penby asks.

“She had on a white romper and a bandanna that said ‘queen.’” He doesn’t look like he even knows what a romper is. “I have pictures.”

“Even better. We’ll make sure to get those from you.” He closes his mouth and runs his tongue across the front of his teeth, makes a loud sucking sound. His need goes silent. “When exactly did you guys lose sight of Deja?”

I swallow hard and can’t remember the last time I drank any water. “She had to go to the bathroom. I went with her, but the lines were really long. I zoned out a little and then I couldn’t find her. I thought maybe someone let her cut in line, but she never came out.”

Officer Penby makes wild scribbles across his paper that surely only he can decipher. “Do you know around what time this was?”

“A few hours ago. Like nine o’clock I think.”

He nods. “Did she seem upset at all? Scared? Worried?”

“No,” I answer quickly. “She was fine. We were having a good time. She just had to pee.”

Friendly crinkles appear next to his eyes. “Music festivals are always a good time.” He glances at Ms. Jasmine, then lowers his voice a bit. “Do you know if Deja maybe did anything to enhance the fun?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, she didn’t do anything like that.” I think of Jude’s red eyes and loopy smile. I don’t think she did anything. It didn’t seem like it. I had eyes on her most of the night. But she did go off with Jude once. And once with Malcolm, too. I force my brain to replay those moments by the porta-potties. Did she seem sober? I’m not sure anymore.

“Don’t worry,” Officer Penby says. “None of you will get in trouble if she did. We just want to make sure we get her home safe.”

I sink into my seat, fiddling with the pendant on my necklace. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so.”

He presses the button on the back of his pen again and scoots back his chair. “Okay, Sariyah. Thank you so much. The information you provided was very helpful. That’s all I need from you for now. Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, sir. But um…” I tug at a twist by my ear.

“Yes?”

“I—I gave her some pepper spray earlier.” I take off mine and slide it across the table. “Like this, but light green.”

He jots this information down. “You’re a good friend. I’m sure it gives you peace of mind to know she has something to protect herself with.”

It doesn’t. Not when I could have prevented her from needing to protect herself at all. “Are you guys going to find her?”

“I bet she’ll turn up any minute now, but until then, I assure you we’ve got the best people on the job. But let me have another chat with her mom here. I’m sure your own mother will be expecting you home soon.”

He’s right. I slip out of the room and back onto the porch where Malcolm still sits.

“How was it?” he asks.

“I told him about the pepper spray.”

“Guessing you left out a few details.”

“I don’t think making him doubt my sanity would help matters.”

He puts his hand on the back of his neck and rolls it until it cracks. “Probably not. You about to drive Jude home?”

“Is he still here?” I step off the stoop and look down the street. Sure enough, his stupid little car is still sitting there. “Call me if you hear anything, Colmy.”

I head off down the sidewalk and wait for a car to pass so I can cross the road. A moth flutters around the streetlight and the crooked sign on the corner catches my eye. Irvine Street. I study it, trying to figure out why it has grabbed my attention now when I’ve probably seen it a hundred times. I take a steadying breath and step off the curb.

Then I remember.

Danny Irvine. The man who attacked Ms. Jess. His name was familiar because my most notorious gnat, Phillip, has mentioned it before. Now with both their faces floating in my mind, I see the resemblance. Danny is Phillip’s brother. I don’t know if it counts for much, but he always spoke so kindly of him. I look up at the sign again. As annoying as Phillip is, or was—I haven’t seen him in months—something about the connection makes me feel like there might be more to what happened that night at Sweet Pea’s. And if this night has taught me anything, it’s that I should trust my intuition.

“Any news?” Jude asks when I get in the car.

“You’d know if you came in.”

He hangs his head and shoves his fingers into his now puffy curls.

“I’m sorry,” I say with a deep exhale. “The police seemed chill, but I guess that’s how they’re supposed to seem. They think she got lost or met someone, but I don’t know. What if she’s hurt or something? What if—”

“It’s probably best not to play the what-if game. The police and her family will contact all the local hospitals. But if you want, I can check with my mom. She’s working right now.”