Half truth

“Tell me anyway.” I got closer. We stopped walking.

“I think the secret societies are using them as sacrifices.”

My jaw dropped. I let out a laugh. “Yeah right.”

“There’s a secret society that formed after the first girl went missing, back in 1910. It is said that every year they conduct their own investigation and try to look for the missing.”

“How do you know this, if it’s a secret?”

“The girls who are found talk. They say it was a group of people in cloaks who helped them to safety, but they won’t say anything beyond that. Gratitude buys their silence.”

“So they’re not sacrificing them.”

“Not all of them return.” He shot me a look.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Like I said, it’s a theory.” He shrugs.

“So what’s your theory on Lana?”

“I don’t have a theory on her. I just hope she doesn’t end up being one of the disappeared girls.” He shot me a grave look. “The ones that are gone longer than a year, never come back.”

Jesus. I let out a breath. In an effort to calm down, I unclipped the camera cover and brought it up to my face, taking photos of the trees and flowers around us to test it out and make sure I’d be ready to shoot whoever Max was interviewing next. When I lowered it and looked around again, I caught sight of Logan and his friends. They seriously looked like greasers from Grease, not because of the way they were dressed, but because it was the vibe they gave out. I nudged Max.

“Do you think those guys are part of a secret society?”

“There’s no telling.”

“A friend of mine told me they were in a secret society.”

“I don’t think they’d have the time for everything that goes into it.” He glanced over at the group again. “They’re definitely popular though. Big men on campus. Fitz especially. He has this cult following that started in high school. All of his fans show up at the games, do a big racket. It’s kind of fun to witness.”

“Fitz meaning Logan?”

“Well, yeah.” He chuckled. “Not sure he’d answer to anything other than Fitz though.”

“Interesting.” I looked at Max.

“You must have experienced the Fitz craze firsthand when your brother played here.”

“I can’t say that I have.” I smiled. “I only went to a game when he was a freshman and I was still living at home. Logan wouldn’t have been here then.”

“Well, I guess you’ll be experiencing it soon enough. Season starts soon.”

I looked over again and found Logan staring at me.

“What’s his deal anyway?” I asked Max. “If he’s so coveted, why does he look so lonely?”

“You’re probably the first person to ever say that,” he said. “Fitz is never alone and is definitely far from lonely.”

I looked back at Logan with that thought in mind. He was still staring at me. I didn’t care how many people he had around him, he definitely looked lonely. I knew the look because it was the same one I’d walked around wearing for as long as I could remember and I was definitely never alone. Max walked in their direction.

“Hey, guys, mind doing a quick interview for the paper?”

“Sure, but only if your pretty friend asks the questions.” One of them broke away from the group and walked over to us.

It was the one who looked like Thor, but with dark hair. He had defined features that made him looked like a rugged Viking, even without a beard. Another followed with a chuckle. He also had hair down to his shoulders, but he was dirty blond. They both looked like perfect California surfers. I remembered seeing them in my parent’s backyard, both wearing dark suits, looking like they were guarding secrets as they stood in the shadows. I should have gone up to them then, but Travis made it impossible.

“I wouldn’t know what to ask.” I waved the camera. “But I’ll take your picture.”

“That’s a start.” He gri

“Amelia, but you can call me Mae.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

“Thanks.” I dropped my hand.

“Sure you don’t want to get one question in?”

“About hockey?”

His gaze darkened. “About anything.”

“Dude.” Logan stepped forward, putting a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Let them do their job so we can go.”

My eyes jumped between the two of them. There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask them, starting with my brother’s accident, but that wouldn’t have been appropriate for this setting.

“About hockey,” Nolan said, shrugging Logan’s hand off his shoulder.

“Well, I don’t know a lick about hockey and whatever question I ask would sound ridiculous.”

“Maybe you should check out our games.”

“Apparently, it’s part of my job.”

Someone in their group of friends scoffed behind him. I didn’t even bother to see whom but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was Logan himself.

“Are you excited to get back on the ice?” Max asked, clicking the recorder.

“Sure. I’m always excited. We have a good squad again this year. It’ll be fun to bring the championship back.”

“Do you think losing last year will make you work ten times harder to get it back?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re ready to bring that trophy home this year.”

The rest of the guys cheered behind him, throwing their fists in the air. I snapped some pictures and looked at the little window where it appeared. It looked more like we were at a frat house than a sports mixer, but it would have to do. Even Logan had his fist up and was smiling in the photo.

“Thanks for your time,” Max said, clicking the stop button.

“There’s a party tonight, if you want to come by. Eleven o’clock, Senior Hall.”

“Maybe,” Max said.

“I was talking to Mae,” Nolan said, “But you can come too, Max.”

“I already have a party I’m going to, but thanks.”

“This one will be better.” He winked as he walked away. “Take good pictures of my ass. It’ll sell more papers.”

“Hey, Mae. You wa

“Um, I guess so.” I smiled.

I wasn’t in the mood to party or have di

The Lab

What? That didn’t even make any sense. What lab? I opened up a separate tab and searched “the lab”. A ton of things came up, from children schools to makeup schools. None of it made any sense. The lab. Why would he waste precious seconds on that? Was he trying to make me laugh? I shook the thought away and Googled Logan Fitz. My screen instantly filled with Logan. Logan Fitzgerald turns down NHL contract, stays in school. I clicked on the article, where Stephen A. Smith called him nothing short of an idiot for turning down millions in order to go to school and risk getting hurt and not being able to get paid millions. I kept clicking.

His social media profiles were all set to private, but I was able to find a ton of pictures of him from a Toronto newspaper. Apparently, he was the Lebron James of hockey, his career followed all through high school and being scouted by NHL teams ever since his blades hit the ice freshman year. I wondered if Stephen A. Smith was right. Why had Logan bothered with college at all? What was the point of a degree if you were guaranteed to make millions?