Chapter 8

“Oh, okay thanks guys.” I turned away from the group and quickly walked away.

What girl would of taken Craig? Everyone here knew that we had something going on. And besides, I knew everyone here and they understood that concept. And where was Lacey?

Oh, right. She left. Crap. I couldn’t help but feel awful. Tonight was the one shot she had to possibly fit in. She was so happy. Then an a thought hit me so hard, you’d think someone just took a swing at my face with a baseball bat.

The keyword in that sentence. Was. She was happy. Who knows the state that she could be in now. I had to find Craig, and quick.

“Roxy, don’t hurt him.” I whispered to myself.

I frantically rushed over to my parents, to see if they had any idea of where Craig may of went.

“Mom! Dad! Have either of you seen Craig anywhere?”

My mother finished sipping her drink and looked at me. “Emery, dear, what’s wrong?” She could sense the worry in my voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, mom, I’m fine. But I just need you to answer my question.” My voice was pleading, and cracking in places, embarrassing me.

My dad looked up and met my gaze. “Sorry, honey. We haven’t seen him anywhere.” My mother nodded her head in agreement with my father, and I left without bothering to let them know the theory that was passing through my head. I didn’t want to let anyone know without making sure that it was true first.

I stood on top of a chair, and glanced quickly over the crowd, examining the familiar faces. The beautiful face that belonged to my Craig was nowhere to be found.

On an impulse, I called Lacey cell phone, making sure that she was home, and that she was okay. It rang once, twice, three times, and then I got the answering machine. “Hey you got Lacey. I’m not here right now, leave me a message and I’ll get back. Peace!”

“Ugh!” I let out an angry growl, hung up and called again. Three rings, and then the machine. This time, I left a message. “Hey Lacey, it’s me, Emery. Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. I’ll pay you back for the dress if you want. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry. Call me back as soon as you can. Bye.”

I hung up quickly and continued the search. He could be in the bathroom, but it didn’t make sense for a girl to escort him there. Maybe he’s eating, or had to go out to his car to get something.

Running as quickly as my heels would allow, I went over to the guys bathroom, and stupidly called his name.

“Craig! Are you in there?” No one replied so I took it as a no. I jogged awkwardly-it’s hard to jog in a dress and heels-over to the refreshment table, and then out to the parking lot. He was no where to be seen.

I ran back inside, onto the dance floor, and looked for him there. Maybe he was just dancing, having a good time. Nothing to get too worked up about.

As I ran through group after group of people, I tripped over a black extension cord, breaking one of my heels, and landing on my face. People rushed over to make sure I was okay, but I waved them away. The last thing I wanted right now was attention. Slowly, they backed away, but some hovered, just to make sure nothing else was wrong with me. I looked at the damage. My knees were scraped, and the dress’s hem was torn a bit. Other than that, it was nothing too bad. A few angry tears escaped from my tear ducts, but I wiped them away feverishly so they couldn’t mess up my makeup.
I pulled my phone from my purse, and called Lacey one more time. If she didn’t answer, then I would go back and try to have a good time. If she did answer, we would talk for a bit, and my fears wouldn’t be confirmed.

I could barely hear anything over the rhythmic pulsing of the music, but I did catch the sound of someone’s phone ringing in the distance.

Curious as to where it was coming from, I hung up so I could listen. As soon as I hung up, the ringing stopped. What a coincidence.

But I had to get to business. I called Lacey back, and yet again heard the generic ring of a cell phone as soon as I finished dialing.

To test my latest theory, I hung up, and it stopped. Oh no, I thought. I called one more time, and heard the ringing. I crawled toward the sound, hoping to find Lacey at the other end of it. The ringer brought me to a closet at the back of the room that was probably used for storage or something. I placed my ear against the door and heard Lacey’s cell phone ringing on the inside.

Why would she be in there?

I opened the door slowly, terrified of what I would find. Could someone of locked her in this closet? And why wouldn’t she answer her damn cell phone? What if she was hurt, or worse, if she was dead?
But my questioning quickly stopped, because the sight I saw when I opened that door made me want to wring Lacey’s neck with my own hands.