The Alchemy of Forever

High School, which has a map. The campus is made up of many different buildings arranged in a square, with common areas mostly outside. I compare the layout to the locations of Kailey’s classes and commit everything to memory.
    I click over to Facebook and log in. Kailey has more than seven hundred friends. My mind reels—Despite my long life, I can’t even think of seven hundred people that would know my name, let alone those that I would call friends.
    I begin to sort through her list of friends and am quickly overwhelmed. There’s no way I can memorize them all. My heart sinks. I start scrolling faster, and the faces blend together and become meaningless. But one face jumps out at me. It’s the neighbor boy, and his name is indeed Noah. Noah Vander.
    Scanning the posts on her wall, I see that there are only four girls who write with any regularity. These must be her close friends. There’s Leyla Clark, the girl with the magenta-streaked hair who I recognize from the photos. It seems that she is Kailey’s best friend, and therefore will be the hardest to fool. The easy camaraderie of her posts makes me sad; I miss Charlotte deeply. I wish I could contact her somehow, let her know I’m okay and ask for her help, but I know it’s impossible. She could never keep the secret from Cyrus. He would punish her for her involvement, then come straight for me.
    I copy down the names of Kailey’s other close friends—Chantal Nixon, Madison Cortez, and Piper Lindstrom—and study their photos. There’s one girl who appears in many of the group shots, though oddly she’s not on Kailey’s friend list. I note her name as well: Nicole Harrison. She’s pretty, with shiny brown hair and a light dusting of freckles. She appears to be friends with the rest of Kailey’s crew. I wonder what happened between her and Kailey.
    Kailey’s profile says she’s single, and though there are a couple messages from boys in her in-box, they’re not overly familiar or flirty. No boyfriend, as far as I can tell, which will make things easier. Although it does deepen the mystery of where Kailey was going the night she died. Like her parents, I realize I had assumed she was going to meet a boy.
    A thwack from the direction of the window sets my heart thudding, and I leap up and back away toward the door. Oh God , I think, suddenly sure I will see Cyrus’s face at the window. The thought arrives with a sheen of sweat and a shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
    I grab the nearest heavy object—a metal jewelry box from Kailey’s dresser—and flick off the light switch next to the door. The room is plunged into darkness, and I kneel on the floor. I hear sounds from outside, scratches and scuffles on the exterior walls. I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them, my breaths coming in alarmed gasps.
    “Kailey! It’s okay,” a voice whispers. I open my eyes and reluctantly look at the window, where a face slowly comes into focus. It’s Noah.
    “You scared me!” I say sharply, standing up. I am furious, but relieved.
    He rather unceremoniously climbs the rest of the way through the window, a canvas grocery bag banging into the wall. I hold my finger to my lips and murmur a low “Shh.”
    “I hear you’re grounded,” he whispers with a smile. “Bryan told me.” He climbs over the bed and stands next to me. He’s quite tall and is wearing gray corduroy pants and the same black sweatshirt he had on the first time I met him. I can smell the night air from the folds of his clothes.
    “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people. You almost gave me a heart attack,” I hiss, gesturing for him to sit on the bed. I flick on the light, but it feels overly bright. I’m hit with the fear that it will bring the Morgans in to check on me and quickly turn it off.
    Noah unzips his hoodie. “You know, light doesn’t actually make any noise,” he informs me. I can’t suppress a small laugh.
    “I’m sorry if being on lockdown’s made me paranoid!” I whisper, sitting in Kailey’s desk chair, but pushing it back a few feet. There’s an awkward silence.
    “Yeah, I heard you did some hard time today.”
    “The hardest,” I joke feebly. “Two whole hours.”
    He rakes back his black hair. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but I think I detect a blush on his tanned face. For some reason I’m reminded of the first time I met Cyrus, and I wonder why Noah has come here tonight. Is this a usual occurrence?
    As if reading my