Page 48 of A Sea of Unspoken Things
With every link I clicked on, Johnny’s presence grew heavier and heavier around me. It was enough to feel so suffocating that I finally fished my earbuds from my bag and put them in. I tapped the first song in the first playlist I found, turning up the volume until my senses were flooded enough to drown him out. He was still there, in the middle distance, but I could almost ignore him.
Going back to the summer before Autumn would have left for school, there wasn’t a single purchase on the account that I could narrow down to San Francisco or anywhere else in the Bay Area. It seemed the only time Johnny had left town was to head out to the coast, where I assumed he’d been meeting Josie.
I scrolled back and forth through the dates, stopping when I ran across the twelve-thousand-dollar transaction that was still a mystery.I highlighted the vendor ID BS 012001, copying and pasting it into a Google Search. The moment I hit enter, I saw Sadie moving toward me from the kitchen. She had a plate in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other, and her eyes skipped over the laptop and papers on the table as she set a stack of waffles down in front of me.
“I see you have your battle station up and running.” She refilled the coffee mug. “I think we can safely say this booth is officially your spot.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep camping out here.”
She set the coffeepot down, leaning into the table. “Believe me, you and everyone else in this town spend a minimum of two hours a day in this place, and that’s how I like it. Full, busy, loud.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” She gave a single nod. “Pretty quiet around here this weekend, though.”
It took a moment for me to understand her meaning. “That’s right. I saw everyone heading out of town for the game. Couldn’t make this one?”
“No. I go to the home games and the ones that aren’t too far from here, but the weekend ones, not so much. The fate of a small-town business owner with next to no employees, I’m afraid.”
I gave her a sympathetic smile.
“What’re you workin’ on today?”
She glanced at the laptop, giving me the sudden urge to close it.
“Paperwork. Financial stuff. Just trying to tie up loose ends, that kind of thing.”
“I’m sure that’s easier said than done.” She looked at me, coffeepot still hovering over the table, as if she was waiting for me to continue. Again, her attention found the laptop screen, and my fingers itched to reach for it. When her eyes finally traveled back to mine, her blue irises seemed to have paled a few shades lighter. “Stay as long as you like,” she said, finally.
“Thanks.”
She gave me another gentle smile before she went to the next table,and I sighed, staring into the plate of waffles she’d dropped off. I’d barely eaten in the last few days, my mind constantly turning. But the smell of the syrup and butter was making my mouth water. I picked up the fork and knife, letting myself take a few bites before I turned my attention back to the screen.
The search results for the vendor ID were accompanied by a few image thumbnails at the top. One of them looked like a crest I thought I recognized. I took a sip of coffee as I pulled the laptop toward me, but I nearly spilled it on the keyboard when I started reading. The vendor associated with the ID was listed in multiple search results, one on top of the other:Byron School of the Arts.
“BS,” I whispered, putting it together.
I clicked on the link to the school’s website, eyes jumping over the banner at the top. The transaction on Johnny’s account was a payment made to Byron.Autumn’sschool. And the only possible explanation for that was that the money had been for Autumn.
The fact that he’d paid such a large sum that he didn’t really have was suspicious, but it wasn’t proof of the intention behind it. He’d never been materialistic or proud. It was entirely plausible that the money had been a generous gift meant to support a deserving protégé. But twelve thousand dollars wasn’t the kind of money you gave to a friend.
My fingers tapped on the edge of the keyboard nervously, my mind fixated on what it could mean. But when Johnny’s phone finally turned on, the screen lit up on the table beside me and my fingers froze in theair.
The background image made my heart come up into my throat. It was a picture of Johnny and Smoke. He was smiling with a cascade of mountain peaks visible behind him, and the dog was tucked under his arm, tongue hanging from one side of his mouth. I’d never seen the picture, which made it sting in a fresh way.
I stared at Johnny’s face, asking myself one more time if I was really going to do this. Getting into his email was one thing. His phone felt like another.
My eyes lifted to the booth in the corner, where I could still see him. Again, I waited for him to turn around, as if giving him one more chance to stop me. But he didn’t.
My fingers typed in the passcode—0914—Johnny’s and my birthdate.
I stabbed another bite of waffle and shoved it into my mouth before I opened Johnny’s text messages. I stopped mid-chew when I saw my name at the top. Johnny had our conversation pinned so that it wouldn’t get buried beneath the others. A small picture of my face looked back at me—an old photo he’d taken years ago.
I didn’t tap it open because I knew what I’d find there. I’d reread our last text conversation over and over in the last few months. It was mostly about nothing, and every time I looked at it, I found it even more devastating. A TV show Johnny was watching and recommending, a picture I’d sent him of a Chicago-style hot dog, and him letting me know he was planning to come for Christmas. I’d thought a lot about that last one on Christmas Eve, as I finished off a bottle of wine sitting out on the freezing-cold balcony of my apartment. Alone.
The texts had been so mundane. So simple. I wondered now what I might have said if I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say to him. I had no idea.
There weren’t any messages on his phone with anyone named Autumn, so I went to his contacts, thinking I’d at least find her information there. But I didn’t.