Despite the admonition not to talk to each other, the girls were excitedly sharing the rumours they’d heard and the tidbits of knowledge they possessed about Lea’s life. None of them looked too stressed, she noted with relief, but then teenagers could hide a mountain of feelings beneath a flighty façade.
One girl sat apart, staring at her hands and twisting her many rings round and round her fingers. She looked harder than the others, her skin disfigured by acne despite a heavy layer of makeup, and her body stuffed into the trashy clothes that young girls thought they had to wear to gain the attention of boys. The school dress code had been circumvented by a loose-fitting, virtually transparent white overshirt, beneath which was visible a lacy tank top stretched over size D breasts and an expanse of tanned stomach accented by a silver ring through her belly button. Her blonde hair escaped her ponytail in a cascade of ringlets that framed her face. She’d be a very pretty girl if not for the acne, the ton of smoky eye make-up she didn’t need, and the sulky frown.
Jenna walked over to introduce herself.
“Crystal Adams,” the girl responded, accepting Jenna’s hand in her moist, limp grip. Jenna ushered her into the little office the school had provided her. The door had a glass insert which prevented privacy, and the space inside was overtaken by a desk and computer, but she squeezed Crystal into the guest chair and contrived to look as welcoming as she could.
Crystal twisted her rings. Seven, Jenna noted with interest. Some were discreet bands of silver, others gaudy clusters of cheap stones.
“What brings you here, Crystal?” Jenna prompted eventually.
Crystal shrugged. “Have they found her? Do they know what happened?”
Jenna shook her head. “Did you know her?”
“Oh, yeah, we were friends. Kind of.”
Jenna waited, not sure what to ask. Then she remembered her Rogerian training: when in doubt, reflect. “Kind of?”
“No, we were. But like, we weren’t in classes together or anything, but we sometimes hung out. Like at parties and stuff.”
“Are you worried about her?”
“Well...I guess.”
“Any reason in particular?
“Well, you know, just that she’s missing, and that she...” Crystal trailed off and twisted her ring savagely. “I’m wondering if I should go to the police. I mean, I don’t want to get people in trouble.”
“Do you know something about what’s happened to her?”
In answer, Crystal sneaked a glance through the glass panel in the door and slouched lower in her chair, as if to hide herself from the students outside. “This is confidential, right? You can’t tell anybody...?”
Jenna nodded and was just trying to formulate the limits of confidentiality when Crystal leaned forward. “I think she was going to meet someone. I mean, not that I’m saying it was him! He’d never do anything like that. But I think she might have thought there was more going on with him than there was. She was—like—obsessed with him.”
“And he didn’t feel that way about her?”
“It was just a fling to him, you know. That’s the way him and his friends are. She’s pretty, and she’s sexy, and what guy wouldn’t go for her? But he could have any girl he wanted, and he wasn’t going to drop his whole life for her, you know what I mean?”
Jenna knew only too well. How many men had drooled over her own size D breasts and promised the moon just for a chance to get their hands on them? But women were just objects to them, one well-shaped body as good as the next. She’d told them all to go to hell.
“So what do you think happened?” she asked the girl.
“I don’t know what happened. I phoned her cell a bunch of times the day she disappeared, because I wanted to tell her not to push it. But she never answered. Never returned my calls either.” Crystal looked up, squinting through her eyeliner. “Do you think I should tell the police that?”
Jenna weighed the information the girl had provided. Beyond her speculation, she had very few facts. “Do you know the boy’s name?”
Crystal stiffened. “It wasn’t him. He had nothing to do with it.”
“But then...”
“That’s what I’m trying to say. If she didn’t get her way with him, she’d have freaked out. She thought she could get any guy she wanted—she usually did—but this one was different. That’s the point I’m not sure of. I don’t know what she’d do if she got upset.”
Jenna tried to make sense of her. “Then you’re worried she’s done something bad? What?”
“I don’t know!” Crystal burst out. “You’re the social worker. Run away? Killed herself?”
“Wait a minute. You think Lea might have killed herself?”
“Well, tried, you know? Taken a bunch of pills just to get his attention.” Crystal squinted at her again. “It happens, right? I mean, my mother once—”
“Has Lea ever talked about killing herself?”
“No, but then she thought this guy was over the moon for her. Romeo and Juliet, she said they were. And those two killed themselves, right? I saw the movie.”
Jenna sat forward in her chair, preparing to rise. “Crystal, I think you probably should talk to the police about this.”
“But I don’t really know anything.”
“Maybe not, but if it helps find Lea...”
“They’ll want to know the boyfriend’s name, right? He’s got a great future ahead of him. He doesn’t need his name dragged in just because she’s a drama queen.” She shoved her chair back and groped for the doorknob. “I feel better. I don’t think she’d kill herself. She’s too full of herself for that. Even if she swallowed a bunch of pills, she’d be sure to end up on his front doorstep so he’d know what he’d done to her.”
She yanked open the door. “Wait!” Jenna dived to intercept her and laid a restraining hand on her arm.
“She’s going to turn up all innocent surprise once she gives him a good scare. You wait and see,” Crystal said.
With that, she tore herself loose and flounced out the door.
* * *
Jenna spent the rest of the morning calming the fears of Lea’s friends and classmates, but she found her mind wandering back to what Crystal had said. Not about Lea’s tendency to play drama queen nor her possible histrionic suicide attempt, but about the boy she’d been involved with. A boy who had a great future ahead of him, who could have any girl he wanted, and who might view Lea’s demands as a mere inconvenience. Perhaps even more, as an obstacle to his pursuit of utter sexual abandon. The more she thought about it, the more she worried.
At noon, she headed down to the staff room to join the clusters of teachers opening their Tupperware lunches. Lea’s
