“Okay, everyone!” a voice calls. “One search party up this ridge, another up the one to the east!”
Yep, a nature hike this isn’t. The three of us—and about a hundred others—are on a hunt. For Thayer.
Thayer. It still hasn’t sunk in. Apparently, Thayer didn’t come home Friday night, the day of our argument. Nor has he answered his phone since. Or been seen by anyone—his soccer buddies, kids he knew from his various after-school jobs, girls who crushed on him.
Now it’s Sunday, and the Vegas’ concern has turned to abject panic. There are plenty of stories of kids getting lost in the desert. Thieves beating kids up on remote trails and leaving them for dead. Kids crashing their bikes or cars on desolate stretches of road and not being found for days. Sabino is one of Thayer’s favorite places to hang out—he and I have come here plenty—so this is where the family decided to start their search for him.
Madeline, who looks polished in Paige Denim cutoffs and a sky-blue tank top that shows off her smooth, alabaster shoulders, sniffs loudly next to me as she watches the first group hike up the west trail. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you going to be able to do this?”
She dabs at her eyes. “I just can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe no one has heard from him. You’re sure you haven’t?”
My shoulders stiffen and sweat trickles down the back of my white T-shirt. Does Mads know something? But when I check her expression, she just looks desperate, eager for any kind of clue. “No,” I admit. “I’d tell you if I did.”
Just saying it breaks my heart. Thayer disappeared without telling me, too. I don’t know whether to be frantic or furious, or feel straight-up guilty. What if what I said to him at school drove him away? What if he was really hurt and embarrassed? Where could he have gone? Why didn’t he tell a soul?
Madeline’s father, a tall, imposing man, waves a hand to indicate that everyone follow him up the east ridge. A group of people trail after him, including my mom and dad. Mads holds us back for a beat. “I don’t want to be too close to my dad right now. Things have been really bad since Thayer left, if you know what I mean.”
I give her shoulder a quick squeeze. Charlotte, who’s got on khaki Bermuda shorts, blue Converse, and a pink tee that accents her red hair, clucks her tongue. Mads has never gone into detail about the situation with her dad, but it’s no secret that he’s got a temper. Once, when he thought Thayer had scraped the paint on his Mercedes, he slammed a door in their house so hard it splintered from its hinges.
We wait as most of the searchers start up the mountain, their sneakers crunching over the rocks on the hard desert ground. It’s amazing how many people have come out to look for Thayer—not just adults but tons of kids from Hollier High, including a lot of popular seniors. I wonder what he would think if he knew so many people were here for him. Popularity doesn’t faze Thayer. Even though he came back from soccer camp last summer as a huge star, he’ll still talk to anyone, even the biggest loser in the school. Nor does he care whose party he’s invited to, whether he’s wearing the “it” jeans of the year, or if he’s totally out of the loop about the newest, hottest music everyone’s talking about. By disappearing, though, Thayer has become infamous, an even bigger star.
We’re about to start climbing when Mads lets out a whimper. Sooty smudges of mascara ring her eyes. I reach out gently, and she sighs. “This is just so pointless,” she protests. “The whole search is useless. It doesn’t matter whether we comb the trails now, or three hours from now, or even three days from now. If Thayer went anywhere, he left town. He’s not wandering in the wilderness. I know my brother.”
I blink rapidly. “So you think he just ran away?”
“Yeah.” Madeline kicks at the dusty ground. “He’s been talking about it for a while.”
“Because of your dad?” If Mr. Vega was rough with Mads, he was ten times worse with Thayer.
“Basically,” Mads says.
“Where do you think he went?” I ask.
Before Mads can answer, Laurel appears, having come back from somewhere at the front of the group. She’s decked out with hiking poles, Merrill hiking shoes, and cargo shorts with a zillion pockets. There are even binoculars slung around her neck. She’s playing this “my best friend is missing” thing to the hilt, crying at the drop of a hat, nervously checking her phone, getting all my parents’ sympathy. Meanwhile, I’m the one really suffering. And I have to do it in silence.
“The rangers have maps marked up with the search-area radius,” she says, pointing toward the mouth of the canyon. Clusters of uniformed rangers in tinted aviators hover by an information board, which is covered with an enormous map of the park dotted with a constellation of bright pins. “Let’s go talk to them and see what they say.”
I straighten up. “Mads thinks Thayer just ran away. He isn’t out here.”
Laurel shrugs. “It can’t hurt, right?”
She looks at Mads, and Mads raises a shoulder and lets Laurel lead her over to the park rangers’ makeshift base station. Charlotte follows, and I lope behind, annoyed. I don’t like Laurel’s insta-bond with Mads just because they’re both close to Thayer. She’s tried to infiltrate my group before, but she’s not one of us and she knows it.
Laurel glances at me over her shoulder. “Maybe you could grab Mads some water from the cooler, Sutton? Thanks!”
I glare at Laurel’s back. Who does she think she is, bossing me around? But to my horror, Madeline nods at me. “Water would be awesome, Sutton.”
Madeline then links her arms with Laurel and lets my sister lead her toward the rangers. Charlotte follows like the good little sheep she always is. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. But not getting water will make me look like even more of a bitch, so I spin and retreat to the coolers that have been set up on one of the flat parts of the trails. I shoulder past a group of whispering kids from school to fish a small water bottle out of a nearby cooler packed with rapidly melting ice and bottled drinks.
“Hey, Sutton. How are you doing?”
I look up to find Garrett Austin, Charlotte’s ex, idling hesitantly next to me.