Page 42 of Broken Secrets
“No word from Emma last night?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
Robert looks up from his newspaper. “Sometimes people get busy, kiddo. Doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“I know that.” I say with a frown. But knowing it intellectually doesn’t stop the anxious spiral in my stomach.
The drive to school passes in a blur of gray marine layer and morning traffic. Derek’s waiting by my locker, looking annoyingly well-rested and cheerful.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says, then takes in my expression. “Rough night?”
“Emma never messaged me back. We were supposed to video chat and she just… disappeared.”
“Did you try messaging her again?”
“Once. I don’t want to seem desperate.” Though I’m definitely feeling desperate.
He leans against the locker next to mine while I grab my books for first period. “Look, I know this is eating at you, but maybe the Catalina trip is perfect timing. Three days away from your phone, focusing on something completely different.”
“Or three days of wondering what happened while I’m stuck on an island with no cell service.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds terrible.”
“Your optimism is noted and appreciated.”
The morning passes in a haze of distracted note-taking and constant phone-checking. In English, Mrs. Henderson discusses the symbolism of the green light in Gatsby, and I find myself thinking about Emma’s silence as another kind of unreachable beacon. Something that seemed so close yesterday now feels impossibly distant.
During lunch, Maya tries to distract me with excited chatter about Catalina preparations, but I can tell she’s worried too. She keeps glancing at my phone, which sits screen-up on the lunch table like a judgment.
“Maybe her phone broke,” she suggests. “Or her parents took it away. Or she got grounded.”
“All possible,” I agree, though none of those explanations feel right. Emma had seemed so mature and responsible in our conversations. Not the type to lose phone privileges.
Sophie joins our discussion about cabin assignments and planned activities, and I try to participate, but my heart isn’t in it. The thought of spending three days pretending to be excited about marine biology while Emma’s silence echoes in my head feels exhausting.
“You know what?” Maya says suddenly. “I’m glad this is happening before Catalina instead of during. Better to process it on solid ground than while you’re supposed to be tide pooling.”
She has a point. Sitting in a biology classroom obsessing over unanswered messages is better than sitting in a research station on an island obsessing over unanswered messages.
My stomach feels fuzzy as Mr. Henderson reviews safety protocols, going over the departure schedule, and reminding everyone to check their email for cabin assignments. Maya pulls out her phone immediately.
“Checking roommates now,” she says, fingers flying over her screen. “Please let us be together, please let us be together…”
I refresh my email, scanning through the usual school announcements until I find the message from Mrs. Henderson with the subject line “Catalina Island - Cabin Assignments.”
“Yes!” Maya practically shouts, then catches herself and whispers, “We’re in Cabin 7 with Sophie and Jessica from chemistry class.”
Relief washes over me. At least I’ll have my best friend there to distract me from Emma’s continued silence.
“Derek, what cabin are you in?” Maya calls across the classroom.
He looks up from his phone. “Cabin 4 with Tyler, Jake, and Marcus. Should be sufficiently chaotic.”
“Breakfast starts at six-thirty, the bus leaves at seven fifteen sharp,” Mrs. Henderson announces. “If you’re not on that bus, you’re not going to Catalina. No exceptions, no second chances.”
“Yes ma’am!
“See you bright and early tomorrow,” Derek says as we reach our cars. “Try to get some sleep.”
