Prologue
November
Billy Johnson lifted his head from his hands, his auburn hair dishevelled, brown eyes darting towards the clock as the bell rang, signalling the end of the history class. The monotonous drone of Mrs. Guilbert’s voice faded into the background of paper rustling and excited chatter, in one last futile attempt to remind the final-year students about the upcoming test, but Billy was already on his feet, ready to escape the confines of the classroom.
“Did you hear that, Mr Johnson?” Mrs. Guilbert’s voice rose after him again, but he just shrugged and strode out of the classroom door. It was Friday, and his ears had grown deaf to any more schooling and lessons. There were other things on his teenage mind.
His walk was confident and carefree as he headed down the corridor, now alive with excited students chatting with one another. His hand found its way into his pocket, retrieving a mobile phone that he unlocked with his fingerprint. The instant messaging app opened swiftly, and his eyes glimmered happily as he caught up with his texts. His fingers danced across the screen for a few seconds, and a soft whooshing sound signalled the dispatch of his message. He slipped the phone back into his pocket just as someone’s fist bumped into his shoulder.
“Yo, Billy!” He looked to the side and saw a slender boy with unnaturally blond hair grinning at him. “Heard you’ve got a hot date with Sasha tonight.”
“What’s up, Slim?” Billy grinned back as the other boy fell into step beside him. They headed slowly towards the exit through the waves of students. It was so noisy, they had to shout to hear each other.
“What are you guys doing tonight?” Slim asked, “Are you going to the cinema? Or playing Mr Gentleman and taking her to a posh restaurant?”
Billy laughed heartily as he tried to imagine himself dressed in a tuxedo and seated in an upscale dining establishment. Even if he wanted to do it, there wasn’t any place like this in Silverwood. He shook his head. “Just grabbing some waffles and some milkshakes.”
“Think you’re gonna score? She told her friend and her friend told my sister. Looks like she might be really excited for tonight if you know what I mean,” Slim’s almost invisible blond eyebrows wiggled suggestively. Billy chuckled, brushing off the teasing.
“Just going with the flow, man,” he replied, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m not exactly the most popular guy in school. It’s not like girls are throwing their bras at me every time we go out.”
It was a simple truth that he wasn’t the most handsome guy, just cute and nice enough to get more attention than his friends. And Slim was his best friend. He had zero luck with the girls, so Billy was his hero. Slim always listened to Billy’s stories with great fascination and wished secretly it was him going out on dates with these girls and not Billy. But that wasn’t something he was ever going to admit to anyone, even to his best friend.
Slim playfully punched him on the arm. “You’re being too modest, Billy. You’ve got charm, and the girls dig that.”
Upon reaching the exit, they both groaned as they caught sight of the scene outside. The sky mirrored the dreary late November mood, covered in thick grey clouds that matched the furious wind and relentless rain. Giant puddles formed around the parking lot.
Billy and Slim didn’t bother waiting to see if their friends were around. It was too cold and miserable for that, and they both ran quickly to Billy’s car, their refuge from the horrible weather. Following his customary routine, Billy tossed his car keys into the air, caught them, twirled them in his fingers, and finally unlocked the car. It was his personal good luck ritual, as he would often say. Slim rolled his eyes and rubbed his arms in an exaggerated motion to warm up. Billy paid no mind to his antics. It was a scene that replayed every single day.
Living just a few houses apart, Billy drove them both to school while Slim helped cover the petrol costs. Slim would usually spend the entire fifteen-minute drive talking about some crush, and Billy would simply listen. He preferred to focus on the road and let his friend run his mouth as much as he wanted.
This Friday, however, Slim was more preoccupied with Sasha. “She’s really into art, man”, he gushed. “You should see the way she talks about it. It’s like her whole world lights up. And those jeans she wore the other day? Man, did you see how good her bum looked?”
Billy grinned, thoroughly entertained by his best friend’s excitement. He glanced at Slim, briefly considering whether his friend secretly harboured feelings for Sasha. Yet, he knew it was just Slim being himself – always enthusiastic and supportive, even if it meant living vicariously through Billy’s romantic escapades.
Finally, they reached Slim’s house. The pouring rain had prolonged their journey, and after almost twenty-five minutes of nonstop talking, Slim’s voice was a bit hoarse as he cleared his throat and turned to Billy.
“Oh man, can’t wait to hear how it goes tonight. Don’t forget to be prepared,” Slim’s eyebrows made the same suggestive wiggling as he gave his friend another very obvious if-you-know-what-I-mean look.
“See you, Slim,” Billy nodded, and Slim hopped out of the car. Billy watched his friend dash into the gravel alley before driving off.
Once home, Billy checked his phone. Sasha had replied to his earlier message, wanting to confirm the plan. He messaged her about picking her up for a waffle place in Crestwood, just a 30-minute drive from Silverwood. They could get one of the special giant milkshakes to share if she wanted. She was excited and replied with a heart emoji immediately, followed by a message that she was looking forward to it. He sent her a smiling emoji and put his phone down.
By the time Billy headed out of the door, it was already completely dark outside. The rain was still pouring, creating an unsettling symphony of soft drumming on the car roof. He could hear each raindrop tap-tapping against the metal as if the heavens were practising for a rock concert. There was no time to do the good luck trick tonight. He ran to his car, unlocked it briskly and jumped in his seat. The rain was so relentless, he had to put the windscreen wipers on maximum speed to be able to see anything on the road.
Sasha’s house lay on the opposite end of Silverwood, approximately a half-hour drive away. He messaged her to let her know he was on his way, and she promptly replied with another heart emoji. He smiled at her eagerness, turning on the radio. Fittingly, the song that played was “November Rain.” Humming to the tune by Guns N’ Roses, Billy put the car into gear and slowly drove off in the rain, the dark streets glistening with wet reflections under the orange glow of streetlights.
His date Sasha sat by her bedroom window, anxiously waiting for Billy’s car to arrive. She kept adjusting her black casual dress, and nervously played with her necklace, glancing constantly between her phone and the rain-drenched street outside.
He didn’t arrive in thirty minutes but how could he? This weather was horrendous, the rain probably made the drive difficult. She shifted her weight and checked her phone. There was no message from him since the last one, but she reminded herself it wasn’t safe to text and drive.
Twenty more minutes later, she mustered up the courage to try calling him for the first time. She was so nervous, she almost hung up immediately when she heard the dial tone. But he didn’t pick up. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears when the call eventually went to voicemail. Trying not to get disheartened, she put the phone down, thinking he probably got delayed by the weather.
In ten more minutes, she tried calling him again. He didn’t pick up. Worried at first, she dialled multiple times, growing increasingly annoyed and frustrated with each time she heard his voice prompting her to leave a message after the beep. Finally, she threw her hands up in the air, sobbing quietly. She wrote a hasty social media status, calling all men liars, then called her friends to vent about Billy’s apparent no-show. What a jerk! She spent so much time getting ready for this date only for him to stand her up.
Despite her frustration and annoyance at his silence, she kept looking out the window throughout the night, still hoping that his car would eventually pull up in her parents’ driveway. When it got too late, she instead started refreshing her social media feeds. His profile never flicked as active, and she went to bed defeated shortly after midnight resolute that all men were indeed liars.
Little did she know that a mere twenty-four hours later, Billy Johnson’s face would make news headlines.
As a missing person.
