The slides were rusty from the runoff of rain. They gave off a sweaty coin kind of smell but provided an excellent shelter from the rain if it were to start up again. The playground complex had a little nook underneath the large slide and the rest of the set that created a cozy little place for friends to sit. I could imagine that many games were played here ranging from Patty-Cake to Truth or Dare. However, I would bet all of my savings that no one had ever sat under here and explained to their friends that they had reason to believe someone was murdered and that the culprit was out to get them.

Helen had suggested the setting because of its private yet openness. Not many would see us and if they did, they would just regard us as a group of girls gossiping.

I pulled out the files I had typed up and presented them to the girls. They gave each other looks of concern before looking back at me. I had done what the mysterious intruder told me to do and kept all of my findings on Victoria's case together. This would come in handy in explaining this whole ordeal to Norah and Helen.

"The two main points I want you to take away from this. One, Victoria was killed. Two, her killer is still here . . . and watching."

Helen shook from goosebumps and gave a subtle overview of the area. "Well, you better hurry and explain yourself then."

I walked them through everything that has happened since I had found the messages between Zac and Tori. I told them how some almost all - knowing person kept interfering every time I was on to something. I explained how Pete was almost framed and how it was because of my involvement with him. Every single clue that led me to believe all these things were explained to them while they eagerly listened.

They were passing around the pages of the file when Norah spoke up. "I always found the suicide note suspicious. The vocabulary and way of speech didn't sound like Victoria's. I thought maybe she sounded different because it was a suicide note but . . . my intuition was right!"

"Beside there was no way you were Victoria's favorite," Helen said playfully.

"And Eline being sane after all? I should have seen that coming! She was always so down to earth." It was just like Norah to take in a situation like this. Her reaction was of a teen who finished the finale of television series, shocked that she didn't predict the conclusion.

"But why fake her insanity? The only thing that asylum would have to offer her is . . ." Helen's face lit up. "A safe place to sleep! She's hiding from something! Maybe like Zac?" The brunette shook her head, her hair swishing around her crossed legs. "That's probably why Zac missed your date. Both of them are afraid of something. Maybe they are having the same experiences as you?"

"You mean my stalker is also stalking them?" It made sense, a frightening amount of sense. Why didn't I tell these two genesis about this sooner?!

"Which means they are either searching for the truth as well or know something," Norah added cleverly piecing things together. The revelation made fear bloom in my stomach. Eline might be safely tucked away from harm but what about Zac? I had no idea where he was.

"Well, Eline knows that Hannah was on the beach that day. She implied that she saw what happened."

Our features twisted into a deep form of disgust or maybe horror. The rain started to pour hard against the metal of the playground equipment causing us to jump. All we needed was some lighting to put an exclamation mark on it all.

"Are we all thinking the same thing?" Helen's voice was a meak whisper.

"There has been one person that continues to be the center of everything . . ."

"Hannah," her name was spit out like poison.

Norah shifted, her arched eyebrows pulled together. "She should be our number one suspect but let's not jump the gun!"

"The gun?!" Helen flinched.

"Okay, wait. We should make a t-chart list on who's on which side. Like victims versus aggressors."

"Why is 'aggressor' plural?" I could see her getting antsy in her seat.

"I think you're onto something with that - intentional or not. The murderer can't be everywhere monitoring everything at the same time. I bet they have help!" Norah said.

The whole school was against us at one point and the adults of this town were pushovers. It wasn't hard to believe that the murderer made some kind of . . . minions.

Helen squeezed her narrow eyes. "I say we name the murderer side Team Eels because their slimy and . . . sometimes deadly."

I giggled at her silliness but gave her a thumbs up anyways.

"What would that make us?" Norah asked.

"Uh . . ." She bit her lip and then her eyes lit up like a child's. "I know! The mermaids!" She made an exaggeratedly swimming motion with her hands, as if they were maneuvering through the ocean.

And that's how it started.

_________________________________

After some more reflection on what we knew and our theories, Norah urged us to check all our houses for any sort of cameras or sources in which the murderer and his/her associates could use to keep an eye on us. That was when things got more intense.

In my own home, we found several different cameras and sensors as well as computer and phone bugs. We decided to check the girl's homes too just to be sure. I wasn't expecting to find anything in their homes. There was really no reason for there to be, was there?

Yet we found the same amount of monitoring devices in their homes.

We tossed all of our electronic devices - convincing ourselves we'd find summer jobs to pay for it all - and broke all of the planted gadgets and dropped them off at the local dump. We had tried to use the devices to track down the murderer but unfortunately this person was good . . . like really good.

We were sitting at the diner eating crêpes after a few days of hard investigating. It took everything in us to not break down in tears or knock our heads against the wall until we went unconscious. Now that we were aware that a cold blooded killer was on our backs, knew we were onto them, and that going to the police wasn't an option for us, it felt like we were holding the weight of the entire world on our shoulders. Or maybe the weight of our worlds. The car incident proved this person would kill again if they had to.

"This strawberry banana Nutella Crêpe is really hitting the spot. The 'I might die and this may be my last meal' spot," Helen said barely keeping her head up with her hand.

"Don't be so pessimistic. We'll probably live to see tomorrow." Norah placed a spot of whipped cream on the troubled teen's nose with a faint smile.

I wish they held back on making such comments. Of course, I was thinking the same sort of things regularly but when I heard them say it - it made me feel bad about telling them in the first place. Even though we were closer than I had ever been to figuring this all out on my own, I questioned whether it was worth putting their lives at risk for. I reminded myself that their lives were already at risk prior to when I told them everything I knew.

"Do you really think Hannah would want us dead?" Helen wondered out loud. "I thought she liked us deep down in her own bitter way."

"Hannah likes herself," Norah corrected. "We were stupid to stay by her side for so long. Arielle was smart to leave."

"We were scared, not stupid. We knew Hannah was bad - killer or not. Arielle was brave for leaving something so familiar. It took us way longer to gain the least bit of guts," Helen corrected. "Good thing Hannah's been so distracted lately with home stuff and her new posse or else our new found bravery would really be put to the test."

I nodded. "About that, make sure you stay friends with Hannah. At least, make it seem like you still are. We don't want her suspicious, just in case." I eyed the pearl necklaces that still hung around their necks.

"I'm doing the same thing with Theo. It's as if nothing has changed. Only the three of us know what's really going on."

We all agreed and continued to eat in a comfortable silence. My mind wandered to other things, more upsetting things.

The girls so easily declared me brave for ending my friendship with Hannah but someone else I cared about venomously declared I was a coward; Pete. For some reason, I found his opinion more valid. How I treated him that night, after he had been nothing but kind and wonderful to me, was cowardly.

I shouldn't have pushed him away.

An aching lump formed in my throat as tears threatened to spill over.

For the last few days, in the limited amount of quiet moments I had, my mind would wander back to that night. I would play it over and over in my head, sometimes imaging an alternative ending. Whether it was letting him down lightly or explaining why I needed him to stay away. Anything and everything was better than what I did to him.

I wondered if that night was burned into the back of his mind like it was in mine. He offered me companionship like a bouquet of flowers and I stomped all over them.

He appeared to be so busy lately, never taking a moment to stroll down the hall slow enough for me to catch up or to look up from the notes he was taking in class to meet my longing gaze. I was probably crazy in his mind. Crazy and cruel.

I wanted to fix things but the only chance I had at that was if I was completely honest with Pete. I would have to tell him everything - like I told the girls - or at least imply what was going on without going into vigorous details. If I wanted to do that I would have to ask for Norah and Helen's permission.

"Are you okay?" Norah was slightly shaking my arm to snap me out of my trance.

I shook my head. "I made a mistake. An apology is due but I need the okay from you guys."

"What is it?"

I explained to them what had happened and they enthusiastically gave me their approval.

"Pete's a nice guy. He's also been through a lot. You have to fix it," Helen said while licking the remaining Nutella spread off the plate with her finger.

Oh, how I missed these girls.

"I will."

Victoria had walked with me to Pete's house once. It was a chilly day and she wanted to go pumpkin picking with us, the girls, and a few of his friends. I remember how lived - in his house was. There was a football laying on their front lawn and a swing set with Spiderman stickers peeling off of it. I could tell his room was the left one on the second floor because of the stack of sweatshirts he had on his windowsill. I found it kind of messy and gross but Victoria liked it.

Now it was only me walking down his block. The moment his house came into view my heart started thudding against my chest. There was no guarantee he was even at home. I willed my nerves to calm down. If that was how the anticipation felt then I could only imagine how it would feel to actually talk to him.

He was sitting on his porch swing. There was a notebook on his lap and he half heartedly scribbled onto it with a ballpoint pen. Angered at something on the paper, he sat back with a sigh that deflated his chest. It was only moments before he spotted me.

I would understand if his reaction was picking up, going inside, and locking his door. That was what I expected.

You can do this.

If he rejects you, you can take it.

Even if he allowed me the time to speak to him, he might not take anything I say to heart or truly listen.

Just apologize!

"Hey . . ." I was at the foot of his porch stairs switching between fumbling with the end of my jean skirt and my braided hair.

His eyes landed on me without shifting any other part of his body yet his demeanor changed drastically. Maybe not demeanor but the air around him.

"Hello."

"May I speak with you?"

"I suppose so."

You could cut the tension with a knife as I placed myself in the seat next to him. The swing rocked a little making me feel so out of place.

He was willing to listen - that was more than I expected. I had to make sure he kept listening. Then he could do with the apology as he wanted.

"I wanted to say . . . I wanted to say I'm sorry." I took a breath, not daring to meet his eyes yet. "I am so sorry for how I treated you that night. You were right. I am a coward, Pete. What I did was so cowardly."

"I let my emotions control me and dictate my actions. I shouldn't have because what I said was so wrong. You were nothing but kind to me. You held me when I spilled my darkest moment to you. You made me feel safe and accepted, the least I could do was be honest with you."

"It seemed like you were being pretty honest with me." The boy straightened, his eyebrows knitting together. "Wasn't that the problem? How brutally honest you were with me?"

"No. I wasn't being honest. I said all of those awful things because I wanted to push you away."

"Why? Push me away after confessing what you thought was murder? Arielle, we've been through so much together - I thought the trust was there." He gave an emotional shrug. "You could have told me you didn't feel the same way. Normal people don't reject people by insulting them and degrading their worth!"

"I wasn't rejecting your feelings towards me!"

"Really? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you were!"

We were yelling at each other, probably causing a ruckus on the peaceful block. Neither of us noticed or cared.

"It wasn't about that!"

"Then what was it about?!"

"It was about protecting you!"

The image of the clues I had piled up in my file popped into my head along with the image of the girls and I finding the cameras in our houses. Every scary thing the stalker did was overwhelming my mind but I forced myself to stay present in this moment - to stay grounded.

He put his notes to the side and scooted closer. "What do you mean? Protection from what?"

I shook my head, fiddling with the ends of my hair again. "I can't tell you everything - at least not now."

"Why not?" Pete's face was twisted with impatience. "Can you please stop? You're being so vague! What you said hurt me and by the way you're looking at me I can tell it hurt you too. What drove you to do that?"

A cool breeze tousled our hair reminding me to not get caught up in the moment again. I would tell him but not yet.

"There's someone who's a threat to me and a threat to the people I'm close to. I don't want this person to hurt you," my voice faltered but I was quick to recover. Crying wouldn't make anything better.

"To hurt me? Has this person hurt you? Arielle, let me help you."

"I will tell you everything eventually. For now, try to trust me," I pleaded, placing my hand on his. He looked down on it and swallowed. There was so much said but still so much remained unsaid. The conversation was coming to an end, the curtains to a movie preview closing but he wanted to see more. No matter how raw we were with one another it was never enough to satisfy. We consistently wanted to learn more.

"How do you expect me to sit still when you're in danger?"

I shrugged. "I guess I really believe in you."