I press my lips together, thinking back. “The text messages. I showed him those and asked if the number was Aria’s.”
“And was it?” asks Daphne.
“He said no. I don’t know what to believe. It could still be her. She does seem hell-bent on screwing with me.”
“I really don’t see why any of what you said would result in a ‘Get the fuck out.’” Max takes a big bite of his cookie. “Even if he’s really sensitive about his family or Aria, why not just, ‘I’d prefer not to discuss that’?”
“Right?” I shrug, pulling some bottles of water from the refrigerator. “Anyway …” After handing off the water to Daphne and Max, I grab the container of cookies because I have a feeling we’re going to need them to fuel our hunt. “Maybe if we find the yearbooks, we can at least look for some sort of clue as to why Mr. or Ms. Unknown Number won’t leave me alone. Check this out.” I pull my phone out of my pocket—the phone that Xander bought for me—and swipe to open my text messages before handing it to Max.
Unknown number:If you dig, you’ll find what’s buried.
“The fuck?” Max makes a disgusted face at my phone and holds it out for Daphne to see.
I wet my lips, taking the phone back from him. “I mean, I figured when they asked about the scholarship and my dad that it was related. My gut says that they’re not-so-subtly telling me that whoever my father is, he’s paying for me to go to Rosehaven.”
“It’s like someone has an odd fascination with you finding out the truth. What purpose would that even serve anyone?” Daphne chews on the inside of her mouth, considering.
“Yeah, I don’t get it.” Max throws his hands up in the air. “Except—here’s an idea out of left field—could it be your father texting you?”
“Well, shit. I hadn’t thought of that.” I ponder for a few seconds. “The texter said I was clueless, which seems really mean. And I can’t figure why he’d out himself after all this time. I really don’t think it’s him. I’ll keep it in mind, though.” I press my lips tightly together, trying not to let this get to me. “The yearbooks will be a good start.”
Max quickly agrees, “You’re right. Let’s get to it. Are you up to it?”
“I’m fine. Besides, this will keep my mind off of—” I’m not fucking fine at all. His name gets stuck in my throat. I don’t know if I’ll ever be fine again.
Daphne huffs. “The manipulative football-playing jerk?”
“Yeah. The dickhead douche canoe.”