No Questions Please

"The story you're about to read... not all of us want you to know about it. Please keep it to yourself. Don't let anyone know what you learn, okay? We could get in trouble. Or killed."
A seemingly normal high school student's life is turned upside down. Then so is another's. And another's. Everything weird that's happening- it's connected. Deeper than anyone would've ever thought.


7. Hannah

Dylan came up to me this morning looking very shaken. Dylan doesn’t normally look shaken. Honestly, Dylan doesn’t normally look like he has any emotions, like, at all. So it was a big deal.

“What’s going on?” I asked him.

I had just finished changing after my shower, and he had entered the bathroom like he normally did to watch me get ready. He would get up and take all of five minutes to get dressed and wash his face, and then go back to his room and pack up his homework and stuff while I finished showering and got changed. We would talk and stuff while I got ready. That’s how we would find the time to catch up between constantly being busy with band and homework and Dylan being sick.

“You have to take me seriously,” Dylan said, and his low voice sounded… shaky, almost. It was weird. Dylan was so stoic, always unfazed. Whatever happened, it must have been big. So of course I would take it seriously.

“Yeah, of course.” I took the towel out of my wet hair and pulled it up into a halfhearted bun, squeezing some of the water out of it.

“Last night, I heard Trisha talking on the phone with someone about the bombing on dad’s warehouse,” Dylan said, and I noticed he didn’t make eye contact with me like he normally did. Instead, his eyes were focused on his feet, which were tucked into a pair of low cut red socks.

“Yeah,” I said. I reached for my eyeliner, leaning closer to the mirror to apply it.

“I don’t know who she was talking to.” Dylan was beginning to sound more and more shaky, like he was reliving last night’s experience. “But… she mentioned Trevor’s name, y’know, the guy that supposedly bombed Dad’s place.”

Supposedly? “Dyl, he did bomb it.” One eye looked better than the other. Of course.

“See, I thought that too,” Dylan said. “But she said he was an easy target.”

I had managed to fix one eye so they both looked good. “An easy target for what?”

Dylan took a shuddering breath. “For framing. For the bombing.”

I almost dropped my concealer. “She what?”

“Yeah, I was shocked too,” Dylan said, handing me a brush.

“Wait,” I said, setting the brush down on the sink counter. “The guy that bombed dad’s place… he only-” I made air quotes, “‘bombed’ it. Because he was framed. By Trisha?”

Dylan shrugged. “That’s what I gathered. I only overheard part of her conversation last night, but that’s what I managed to piece together.”

I picked up the brush again, trying to focus on blending my concealer as I ran this through my mind. “I always knew I hated her.”

Dylan snickered. “Chya, I know.”

“But wait.” I turned to face Dylan, who obediently handed me my powder. “How involved with the bombing did she have to be to have enough power for frame Trevor for the whole thing?”

“I feel like she’s completely behind it,” Dylan said, and he was sounding less nervous and shaky. “Like maybe she actually physically did it.”

I started to brush powder over my face. “Then who was she talking to about it? Obviously it’s not just her if she was having a full on conversation with someone out in the open, y’know? This is, like, a group production.”

“Exactly,” Dylan said. “That right there is the issue. She’s using Dad, Hannah. To get into the company. For whatever she’s doing.”

Dylan was right, I realized. And since there was more people involved, it went so much deeper than just the bombing. What we had to figure out was just how much deeper it actually went. As it turned out, Dylan had more information.

“Trevor Barnes, y’know, the guy that was framed for the bombing- he adopted two kids recently, from Hawaii,” he said.

I nodded, setting my brush down and screwing the lid back onto my powder.

Dylan continued, “And one of them is in my math class. He sits right next to me.”

“Name?” I asked, opening a container of blush.

“Jake Marquis,” Dylan responded.

Jake Marquis. The name sounded so familiar. But why? I strained my mind to think of where I knew him from. He had to have been in one of my classes. Dylan had said he was Hawaiian, so I tried to picture him in my mind: black hair, probably, and tan-

The trumpet player. He and his sister were new to the band program here. Which made perfect sense, looking back at it, because they were adopted from Hawaii by Trevor Barnes, the guy framed for the bombing. To figure out how deep this went, Jake would be just the one to start with. He and his sister. And lucky for Dylan and I, he could talk to guys, and I could talk to girls. I could become her friend, get her to tell me stuff. We would get to the bottom of this within a week.

“I know him,” I said. “He’s a trumpet player. Y’know, the new guy.”

“Oh my God. With a twin sister,” Dylan realized. He locked his dark eyes with mine. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I nodded. I knew we had exactly the same plan. We’d talk to them at school today.


Tabby came up to me with the biggest smile on her face after we came to school. My first thought was that the guy she liked had asked her out, but when I saw the dark haired boy behind her, I realized it was something entirely different.

“Is that Milo?” I asked her in a hushed tone. Milo- Tabby’s older brother by one year- had disappeared back when we were in third grade, and Tabby had never provided an explanation. Now he was back. Again, with no explanation.

“Yes,” Tabby said, and her smile widened a little bit. She waved her brother over, and he approached cautiously.

“Milo, this is Hannah, y’know, the clarinet player,” Tabby introduced us. Milo gave a little wave. He and Tabby looked a lot alike.

“Wow, you talk about me?” I asked.

Tabby gave a small laugh. “Well, yeah. We had so much fun at band camp. Great stories to tell.”

Changing the subject. No, stop it, Hannah. I hated to become suspicious of Tabby. She was a really good friend of mine. But… Milo disappearing without an explanation and then returning and Tabby never feeling it necessary to explain where he went- that was rather suspicious. And when trying to figure out how deep Trisha’s whole involvement with the bombing went, every remotely suspicious thing created a suspect. Even if it was just a perky French horn player.

Dylan appeared next to me, avoiding eye contact with Milo and Tabby by instead just looking at his grey Converse. I nudged him, looking him in the eyes to let him know we needed to talk later, somewhere in private. He nodded and his eyes went back down to his feet.

“Oh, this is Dylan, if you remember him,” I said.

Tabby nodded excitedly. “Oh, yeah, definitely. And plus, he’s in my math class, so we got caught up a little bit yesterday.”

I tried not to laugh at the thought of Dylan actually making small talk with Tabby. Dylan didn’t talk to anyone, especially not to just make casual conversation. Maybe I could use this to prompt her to tell us where Milo had gone. “Yeah, I don’t know if he told you he was sick for the past couple of years, but he’s better now, so he’s back at school.”

C’mon, Tabby, tell us where Milo was. I’d totally just set her up for it.

“He kinda explained that,” Tabby said. She turned her eyes to Dylan. “I’m just glad you’re here to play percussion for us. None of our other percussionists are super interested in snare or mallets like you seem to be.”

She had changed the subject again. Tabby was moved to our list of people to talk to, along with Jake and his sister.

I couldn’t be too forward with it. I had to ask nicely. “What about Milo? Did he come down with something too?”

Tabby’s eyes shifted a little bit. Milo had his headphones on, so if he had heard me ask, he was pretending like he hadn’t. Then, without looking me right in the eyes, Tabby said hesitantly, “Oh, he was, uh, upstate with my mom. She lives up there.”

That could so easily be a lie. But the way she had acted uncomfortable could’ve just been a result of obvious tension between her and her mom if her mom lived upstate, away from her family. Now that something like this bombing had happened and Dylan and I had direct ties to it, I felt as if I was going to become on edge around everyone, suspicious of their every move. That could help Dylan and I get to the bottom of this. But at the same time, it could mess things up big time for me. I had to be careful to really think things through.

I think God was on our side, because the bell rang, and I had enough time to manage, “Well, I’m glad he’s back here,” give Tabby a quick hug, and pull Dylan to the side to talk to him on our way to class.

“We need to get someone else to talk,” I said. “Someone who knows Tabby. I’m suspicious.”

“Me too,” Dylan said. “Did you notice that girl sitting with her on the bus yesterday?”

I nodded. I had. She was pretty, with sorta medium brown hair that was wavy and really round, dark eyes. I had assumed she was just Tabby’s friend.

“Her name’s McKinley. She called Tabby her sister,” Dylan explained.

“Sister?” I asked. I didn’t believe it. Back in third grade, Tabby hadn’t had a sister, and the girl on the bus yesterday had to have been within a year of Tabby’s age.

“I know,” Dylan said. “First her brother disappears, now she has a sister that she definitely hadn’t had in third grade. And then the brother comes back. With the bullshit excuse that he was living with their mom upstate.”

I thought about McKinley some more. I hadn’t seen her with Tabby last year, or any of the years prior. So she couldn’t have been Tabby’s biological sister. “Maybe McKinley’s adopted.”

“I mean, yeah,” Dylan said. “But that still doesn’t solve whatever the hell is going on with Milo.”

“That’s why we need to get someone else to talk.” Dylan and I turned the corner into the hallway that my English class was in.

“I know a guy,” Dylan said. “You remember Ash?” I nodded, and he continued, “He and Tabby have been really good friends for a while, right?” I nodded again. Dylan said, “If anyone knew what actually happened to Milo, it would be him. So we should ask him what happened. Either he’ll give us some more made up bullshit, or he’ll give us something that connects to Trisha. Either way, we’ll know something’s up if he doesn’t say he was upstate with their mom.”

“Okay,” I agreed. We were almost to my class. “You talk to him.”

“Okay,” Dylan said, noticing I was trying to peel to the side to get to my class. “You just don’t stress about it.”

“Okay,” I threw over my shoulder as I tucked into my class. Yeah, right. Don’t stress about it. I would be thinking about Tabby and Milo and McKinley and Jake and his sister and Trevor and my stepmom all throughout class. How the hell could all of these people possibly be connected? And how deep could this actually go?

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...