Read Suicide Notes From Beautiful Girls for Free Online

blue. At 7:20 I get out and walk toward the school, waiting for the students to arrive. If this were a regular day, I’d be nervous knowing I’m about to have to talk to so many people I don’t know, to askthem for something. But as it turns out, there are many worse things to be scared of.
    Finally, they begin to trickle in—two tall girls in fuzzy boots and pea coats, a small guy with an enormous backpack, three huge dudes in football jackets.
    I’m not sure who I’m looking for, exactly, and I could barely see them last night, but Delia’s type of person is never that hard to spot.
    There’s a girl in all black with short dark hair. I walk up to her. “Did you know Delia Cole?” I say.
    “Who?” the girl tips her head to the side, confused. She smiles slightly. I ask again. She shakes her head.
    I ask a guy with a skateboard and two girls wrapped together in one very long scarf, a kid with a Mohawk and a dozen more people after that. They all say no. But someone who knows her is here somewhere and I’m not giving up until I find them.
    Three guys are walking toward me now. Two are tall and lanky, one is shorter and sturdier; they’re dressed in black and green and gray. I feel a tingling in my gut.
    I make a half circle and come up behind them. They don’t notice me. They’re talking. I listen.
    “. . . appear in court,” says one of them.
    “I can’t believe you’re even here today.”
    “My mother bailed me out at two in the morning. Thenstood over my bed at six and told me to get up for school.”
    “Daaamn.”
    “Yup.” The first one snorts. “Thanks so much for backing me up.”
    “Well, you’re the one who brought the vodka up to them. What did you think they were going to do, make you a martini?”
    These are the guys from last night.
    I walk faster, fall in with their steps. “Hey.”
    They turn toward me. One of them smiles slightly, looks me quickly up and down, the way guys do. I can feel my hair blowing around my face. I’ve never thought I looked like very much—average height, kind of curvy, eye-shaped eyes, nose-shaped nose, dark blond hair that falls right below my chin.
    Delia always insisted I was hotter than I realized. “Everyone else who looks at you sees something you don’t” is what she used to tell me. But she was the type of person who would say that anyway, would actually think it anyway, because she loved you. Only, maybe these guys are seeing something now—I can tell by the way they’re looking at me, smiling slightly. They’re glad I’m there until I say, “You’re Delia’s friends.” And then all of their expressions change.
    They start walking a little faster. I keep their pace.
    “I saw you last night,” I say.
    “Oh?” says the tallest one. He stops then and looks right at me. “What’s up?”
    He has dark hair gathered into a topknot, smooth cheekbones, a strong jaw, and full lips. Up close I get a sour whiff of last night’s alcohol seeping through skin. I remember them down there, drinking, laughing.
    “Tigger?” I say, in case he’s one of them.
    They’re all silent for a moment. “What’s that?” Topknot asks.
    I pause. “I’m looking for Tigger.”
    “Bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing?” Topknot says slowly. “Fun fun funfunfun?”
    “Check Pooh’s corner,” says one of the others, grinning. This one is scruffy-faced, with a black wool hat pulled down low. He smiles.
    I grit my teeth and force myself to smile back.
    “I’m looking for Tigger the person,” I say. “I thought you might know him.”
    Scruffy and Topknot glance at each other.
    “Nope, don’t think so,” Scruffy says. But he’s lying. His voice is gravelly and low. I recognize it. He’s the one who said Delia was trouble.
    I feel my palms begin to sweat. I have an idea. “I need a hookup,” I say. “Delia was always the one who went to him, for both of us. And I don’t know where else to go now. I need a little . . .” I pause.