Page 35 of Oliver

I don’t have Bone’s number and I’m not about to outreach Sabrina again, so I text Oren who grudgingly complies. His reluctance to be involved is a little fucking late if you ask me but I don’t have time to inform him of his douchebaggery. At least not right now.

Instead, I tap out a text to Bone and since I have to wait for a response, I scroll through social media.

I haven’t bothered to check this shit in years apart from the night I was pathetically checking out Oliver’s shit and my mom was dying. This should teach me to close it out altogether but I’m curious. Did anyone post about Dixie’s death?

Is there anyone I should be thinking about or adding to the list? It would seem nothing Dixie did was straightforward, so who knows.

Bone doesn’t post much and Oren, er Ghost hasn’t been on since before Dixie died but I do find Matt’s page. Another douche, this one, posted a bunch of bullshit about horror flicks he enjoys, which sidebar is chilling in its own way.

What if Matt is the one who killed Dixie? Hm.

Sitting up, I click through his posts, most of which are of his pathetic ass sitting home alone. Whatever. Bone’s message comes through and I’m about to click over when I pause. Is that…?

Yep, that’s the back of Dixie’s head. Where the fuck are they?

I try to zoom in, but all I see is a series of candles in a really dark room and the picture is hazy. Matt has a brooding look on his squirrelly face. Frankly he looks mad.

Although interesting, this was weeks before Dixie died. Clearly the fucker hung out with her though…Does he know something?

With a sigh, I turn back to my texts messages.

Bone:I already told you what I know…why are you still talking about this?

Penny:You would too, if it was your sister. Look, I just want to know, did she tell you about Mr. G?

Bone:What about him?

Penny:Really? Don’t be a dick…

Bone:I don’t know shit, stop asking me…besides, maybe you should ask Matt, he was the one she was partying with in the end

Setting the phone aside, I mull over his words and the tenor. Although it's hard to decode the mystery of someone’s intentions over text, I get the distinct feeling Bone is hiding something.

Did Dixie tell Bone about Mr. G? Oren? Why haven’t they said anything? What are they afraid of?

If her death was based on her sordid affair with Mr. G, what reason wouldtheyhave to keep it secret? I mean, somehow, it’s still escaped the news. It’s not like they know Mr. G is denying it.

Now I’m stuck trying to get answers from Matt. Ugh. He’s been avoiding me, I can tell because whenever he pulls into his drive, he actually parks inside the garage and closes the door before exiting. Asshat.

Fuck. What did you get yourself into Dixie? And why didn’t you ask for help?

Later that day, I search through more of the messages that I accessed via Oren. While some are mundane, or filled with crass innuendos, the ones where they’re not being ridiculous are what I mine for more information.

In a group chat with Ray, Need 4 Speed and Dixie, she asks the group what they would do if they ever wanted to catch a killer. The answers are meaningless and meant to tease but it leaves me wondering why Dixie would ask. Was she trying to figure it out or understand how to prevent it?

In others, she seems morose and out of sorts, to which inevitably Charming Charlie harasses her out of her funk. How close were they?

In another exchange, Dixie and Manny_the_Eater discuss how quickly bodies decompose and I move away from that message with my heart in my throat. Why did she want to know so fucking badly?

To my surprise, Bone texts me later and I agree to meet up with him. On my way, I check my phone before dropping it to the seat with a chuckle. Unless you count Bone, there’s no one left to text me. I’m completely fucking alone.

I don’t have friends. I don’t have a fucking family. I have me. Me and a buttload of suspicions.

It’s been days since I spoke to Oliver. In all that time, I’ve circled the drain of our interaction before setting it aside.

Confronting him did nothing but warn him ahead of time, what’s coming. That was foolish. Since he’s like a damn statue all the time, I never truly know what he’s thinking.

As for the incident in the car, I’m sure for Oliver that was just another fuck in a long line of them. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s fucking other chicks right now. It’s not like we’d ever be exclusive. What a racket.

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