Last Seen Leaving by Caleb Roehrig

camping.
    Interrupting my thoughts, Detective Moses asked if there were any questions. When there weren’t, she barked, “Okay, everyone. Let’s bring January back home.”

 
    NINE
    THE CROWD BEGAN to disperse, volunteers armed with flashlights, cell phones, and fliers heading in all directions, off into the relative wilderness that surrounded the Walker mansion. Detective Moses remounted the porch and herded January’s parents back inside the house, through the massive front doors of carved and polished oak. I turned around and started looking for Mrs. Hughes. I wasn’t especially anxious to tag along with a group of perfect strangers for the task ahead, and I was also sort of suddenly craving the comforting presence of a reliable and familiar adult.
    I made it three steps before I heard someone call my name.
    â€œFlynn!” It was Kaz. He was waving his hand in the air again, trying to draw my attention over the heads of the people between us, and I immediately turned the other way, pretending not to see him. I was screwed, though; the fountain created a huge barrier in front of me, and a gaggle of elderly volunteers bickering over a map formed an impassable obstacle on my left. By the time I got around to door number three, it was already too late. Kaz was upon me. “Hey, man, wait up!”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I asked sourly, as if he had no business looking for my missing girlfriend.
    â€œI wanted to help.” He sounded a little embarrassed, and he gave me a crooked smile. “Listen, I feel bad about the other day. We kind of got off on the wrong foot, know what I mean?”
    â€œYou think so?” I deadpanned.
    He shifted his weight nervously and ducked his head. “Yeah. Look, I’ve been thinking about some of the things you said on Saturday, because they didn’t make a lot of sense to me, and I’ve been starting to wonder if maybe … I don’t know.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI never told January she should be dating older guys,” he blurted, glancing up at me as if he wasn’t sure I’d believe him. “I mean, it sounded like you thought I was trying to move in on her or something like that, and that’s totally not the case. I like January as a friend, but that’s all. She isn’t my type, and she knows that. I know she knows that.”
    â€œShe told me you said it, though,” I countered pedantically, even though I’d come to realize that my ex-girlfriend was perhaps the very definition of an unreliable source. “Why would she say it if it wasn’t true?”
    â€œI don’t know!” he responded earnestly. “That’s what I’m talking about. There was this one time that January was upset because you two were fighting about something, and she kept saying stuff like, ‘Flynn is so immature,’ and, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t be dating high school boys anymore, because they’re all immature, maybe I should be dating college guys.’ And she asked what I thought, and it was obvious she wanted me to agree with her, so I said sure. But that was it.” Tugging awkwardly at the lapel of his peacoat, he mumbled, “And I never said anything about the size of your … size.”
    For clarification, he gestured to my crotch, and I could feel my face redden. “Did you tell her to break up with me?”
    â€œYeah, I did,” he admitted, letting out a breath. “But the thing is, every time she talked to me about you, it was always some sort of complaint. She always seemed upset or depressed about stuff she said you did, so … yeah. I told her she didn’t deserve to be unhappy, and that if things weren’t good between you two, she should probably move on.”
    He looked down again and then up, waiting for me to say something. I was still pissed at him, nursing a grudge calcified from months of hearing how amazing Kaz