The Girl We Left Behind

“Bailey!”

I freeze in the middle of the crowded foyer.

There’s no way.

After seven years of friendship, I could recognize that blonde ponytail and pink backpack anywhere.

“Willow?”

Bailey stops in her tracks.

Her eyes widen.

“What are you doing here?”

I grin. “I transferred.”

For a second, she just stares at me.

Then she runs straight toward me.

“Are you serious?”

Before I can answer, she wraps her arms around me, nearly knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Yay!” she squeals. “Now we get to go to the same school for our senior year!”

I laugh as she pulls away. “That was the plan.”

“You didn't tell me!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. My dad got a new job in town, and everything happened so fast.” I shrug. “I figured I'd surprise you.”

She playfully punches my shoulder.

“Well, this is officially the best surprise ever.”

“I knew you'd like it.”

She grabs my arm. “Okay, what class do you have first?”

I pull my schedule out of my backpack and glance at it.

“Chemistry with Mr. Phillips. What about you?”

“Algebra 2.” She points down the hallway. “It's right around the corner from your class. We can meet up between periods.”

“Deal.”

The warning bell rings.

Bailey groans. “Already?”

“Unfortunately.”

She starts walking backward toward her classroom.

“See you around, bestie!”

“See you.”

I turn toward the chemistry hallway, still smiling.

Maybe transferring here wasn't such a bad idea after all.

I reach the classroom door just as I hear someone shout behind me.

“Incoming! Watch out!”

I barely have time to turn around.

Something—or rather, someone—slams straight into me.

My backpack flies off my shoulder, my books scatter across the floor, and I land hard on my back.

“Ow!”

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

A guy scrambles to his feet and reaches down to help me up.

I stare at the hand he's holding out.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah... I think so.”

I take his hand.

The second he pulls me to my feet, his eyes meet mine.

And suddenly, his expression changes.

He looks like he's seen a ghost.

“Willow?”

My stomach drops.

“How do you know my name?”

“How do you know my name?”

The question comes out sharper than I intend.

The boy's hand drops from mine.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Students rush past us, laughing and talking as they hurry to class, but I barely notice them.

His eyes stay locked on mine.

“I've heard your name before,” he finally says.

“From who?”

He hesitates.

“Bailey.”

I stare at him.

“Bailey?”

“Yeah.”

“But Bailey didn't know I was transferring here.”

“I know.”

His answer catches me off guard.

“Then how did you hear my name?”

He shifts his backpack onto his shoulder.

“She talks about you.”

I narrow my eyes.

“About me?”

He nods.

“She's mentioned you a few times. Said you two have been friends forever.”

That actually makes sense.

Bailey talks about me all the time. At least, she used to.

Still, something about his answer feels off.

“So you've known about me this whole time?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “I just knew your name.”

I study his face.

“That's weird.”

He smiles slightly.

“Probably.”

He bends down to pick up one of my books.

I watch him carefully.

“What's your name?”

“Carter.”

“Carter what?”

He pauses.

“Carter Hayes.”

He hands me my notebook.

“Nice to meet you, Willow.”

I take the notebook from him.

“Nice to meet you too.”

He starts walking away.

Then he stops.

“Actually…”

He turns back toward me.

“Welcome to Westbrook.”

I frown.

“Thanks.”

He gives me a strange look before walking away.

I watch him disappear into the crowd.

Something about that conversation doesn't sit right with me.

He knew my name.

He knew Bailey.

And somehow, he already knew I was new.

I shake my head.

Maybe I'm overthinking it.

Then I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Willow?”

I turn.

Bailey is standing at the end of the hallway.

The second she sees Carter walking away, the smile disappears from her face.

“Willow?”

I turn around.

Bailey is standing at the end of the hallway.

The second she sees Carter walking away, the smile disappears from her face.

“What was he doing?” she asks.

I glance down the hallway.

“Running into me, apparently.”

Bailey doesn't laugh.

“Did he say anything?”

I shrug. “He apologized.”

“That’s it?”

I look at her.

“Why are you asking like he committed a crime?”

She quickly shakes her head.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I just—” She pauses. “Carter can be... complicated.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Complicated?”

“Yeah.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing.”

She sighs.

“Look, just don't worry about him, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

I laugh.

“That worked when we were twelve. Not anymore.”

She gives me a look.

“I'm serious, Willow.”

“So am I.”

The warning bell rings.

Bailey glances toward her classroom.

“I have to go.”

“Wait.”

She stops.

“How does Carter know me?”

She looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

“He knew my name.”

Bailey's expression changes.

Only for a second.

But I catch it.

“He did?”

“Yeah.”

She looks down at the floor.

“Maybe I mentioned you.”

“You just told me he barely knows you.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You said he's complicated.”

“Because he is.”

I cross my arms.

“Bailey.”

She sighs.

“Okay. I may have mentioned you before.”

“Why?”

“Because you're my best friend.”

“That doesn't explain why some random guy at school knows my name.”

“He's not random.”

The words come out before she can stop them.

I stare at her.

“What?”

Bailey's eyes widen.

“I mean—he's a student. I've seen him around.”

“That's not what you said.”

“I know.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

Then she forces a smile.

“Look, we'll talk at lunch.”

She starts walking away.

“Bailey.”

She turns around.

“Yeah?”

“Are you hiding something from me?”

Her smile disappears.

“No.”

It's the quickest lie I've ever heard.

Then she turns and disappears into her classroom.

I stand there for a moment, staring after her.

Something is wrong.

I just don't know what.

By the time I get to chemistry, class has already started.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Carter.”

I glance at the teacher.

“Sorry, Mr. Phillips.”

I hurry to an empty seat.

The rest of the class passes in a blur.

I try to focus on the lesson, but my mind keeps going back to Bailey.

He's not random.

Why would she say that?

And why did Carter look like he already knew me?

When the bell rings, I shove my notebook into my backpack.

My phone vibrates.

I pull it out, expecting a text from Bailey.

Instead, there's a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: We need to talk.

I stare at the screen.

Another message appears.

Unknown: About Bailey.

My heart starts beating faster.

I type:

Who is this?

Three dots appear.

Then disappear.

Then appear again.

Finally, another message comes through.

Someone who knows what happened last year.

I stare at the words.

What happened last year?

I type another message.

What are you talking about?

This time, the reply comes almost instantly.

Ask Bailey about Carter.

I freeze.

I look toward the classroom door.

Students are flooding into the hallway.

And then I see him.

Carter is standing at the other end of the hall.

He's looking directly at me.

My phone vibrates again.

I look down.

Don't trust him.

I slowly look back up.

Carter is gone.

My stomach twists.

Then one final message appears.

And whatever you do, don't let Bailey know I contacted you.

The response comes almost immediately.

Ask Bailey who Emma is.

I stare at the screen.

Emma.

The name means nothing to me.

My fingers hover over the keyboard.

Who is Emma?

The person starts typing.

Stops.

Then starts again.

My heart pounds harder with every second.

Finally, the message appears.

The girl who disappeared.

I stop breathing.

For a moment, the cafeteria disappears around me.

The voices.

The laughter.

The scraping of chairs against the floor.

All of it fades into the background.

The girl who disappeared.

I read the message again.

And again.

My hands begin to shake.

I don't know Emma.

I've never heard her name.

But Bailey has.

Carter has.

Whoever is texting me has.

And suddenly, I feel like I'm the only person in the entire school who doesn't know what's going on.

A cold feeling settles in my chest.

I think about Bailey hugging me this morning.

Her smile.

The way she called me her best friend.

The way she told me this was the best surprise ever.

How could she look at me like that while keeping something like this from me?

My eyes sting.

I quickly blink the feeling away.

I don't want to cry.

Not here.

Not over this.

But underneath the fear is something worse.

Hurt.

I've known Bailey for seven years.

Seven years of sleepovers, inside jokes, late-night phone calls, secrets, and promises that we'd always tell each other everything.

And now I'm sitting alone at a lunch table wondering if my best friend has been lying to me.

I look toward the cafeteria doors.

She's gone.

For the first time, I wonder if I ever really knew her.

My phone vibrates again.

I flinch.

Another message.

You need to leave Westbrook.

My stomach drops.

I type back immediately.

Why?

The typing bubble appears.

Then disappears.

Appears again.

Finally, the response comes.

Because Emma didn't leave.

I stare at the words.

My blood runs cold.

I don't understand.

I don't want to understand.

I shove my phone into my pocket and stand so quickly that my chair scrapes against the floor.

People turn to look at me.

I don't care.

I need to find Bailey.

I need answers.

But as I step into the hallway, I stop.

Carter is standing at the other end.

He's watching me.

This time, he doesn't look surprised to see me.

He looks worried.

He walks toward me.

“Willow.”

I take a step back.

“How do you know about Emma?”

His face changes.

And that's when I know.

He knows exactly who she is.

“Who told you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“No. You answer me.”

He looks around the hallway before lowering his voice.

“You shouldn't be asking questions about her.”

My heart pounds.

“Why?”

Carter looks directly into my eyes.

“Because the last person who did disappeared too.”