I got out of the car and she was in my arms, kissing me.
“I don’t want the neighbors to be curious about a strange car in the driveway.”
I laughed and returned her kisses. I’d met Kelsey in a restaurant two months ago near Berkeley, where I was a sophomore. It was casual hookups at first, but I was developing feelings for her. She was beautiful and funny. We usually hung out at my dorm room, which worked out pretty well because my roommate was usually out. This was my first time at her house. I’d never met any of her family or friends, but in all fairness, she’d only met my roommate once or twice. I felt amazing with Kelsey, like I could accomplish anything. In my mind, I was playing out scenes when her parents came home from work later, how I’d shake her father’s hand and he’d call me “son.”
Kelsey’s hands were all over me, bringing me back from my daydreams. She laughed, took my hand, and led me into the house, down the hallway to her bedroom.
We tumbled onto her bed, already unmade, throwing our clothes to the floor and fucked like we always did. Frantic, hot, passionate.
We were lying in her bed, sweaty and spent, when her cell rang. She picked it up from the nightstand and glanced at it.
“Oh, I’ll call him back later,” she said. She put the phone back on the nightstand.
“Who?” I asked, stretching my arms.
“My boyfriend.”
I stopped stretching and stared at her. I couldn’t understand what I had just heard. “Your boyfriend?”
Kelsey gave me a coy smile. “Yeah, I probably should have told you. He’s in college at NYU.”
“Really.”
“Um… I mean you and I are just casual, right?”
“Sure,” I said. Anger raced through me. I felt so stupid. Why had I thought it could be more?
She rolled over to me, rubbing my chest. “I mean, you’re kind of…”
“What?”
“You don’t want to be in a relationship. You are kind of… flaky.”
I sat up. “You think I’m flaky? What does that even mean?”
“Um… I don’t know.” Kelsey continued to talk, but I barely heard what she said. Heat flooded my body and I just wanted her to shut up. I wasn’t good enough for her. I was too flaky!
The rejection hurt.
“Shut up! Shut up!” I screamed. Rage consumed me now, filling every fiber in my body. My hands went around Kelsey’s slim neck and I squeezed. So hard. Squeezing. Squeezing. I watched as her arms and legs flailed about, trying to escape my grasp.
Then silence.
Calm.
Her lifeless body was limp in my grasp. I let go.
I panicked, pacing around the bedroom, Kelsey’s body lying motionless and breathless in her unmade bed.
What the fuck am I going to do?
I just killed somebody.
I sat on the bed and contemplated the situation. If Kelsey was found, I would go to jail for murder.
I could not go to jail.
I knew what I needed to do. I stood and went back to the garage. A pair of work gloves were on the workbench at the side. I put them on and searched through the shelves, looking for something I could put Kelsey’s body into. I found an extra-large dark green duffel bag that would work.
I took the bag into the house, stuffed Kelsey’s body inside, along with some of her clothing, hoping to make it look like she went on a trip. I stripped the bed, I couldn’t leave my DNA here, and tossed them in the bag too. Next I found the linen closet, put fresh sheets on the bed, and finally wiped any surfaces I’d touched with a packet of Clorox wipes found on the kitchen counter.
I grabbed Kelsey’s cell phone, typed a quick message to the boyfriend and her mom that she was going on a girls’ trip to Vegas, then wiped the phone too. I hauled the duffel bag out to the garage, popped the trunk, put her body inside and slammed it shut.
Had it really only been an hour since I’d first pulled into the garage? How was that possible? Kelsey’s phone lit up with two incoming texts.
Have fun! Be safe. I love you.
That was from her mom.
Okay, call me later.
That was from her boyfriend.
I sighed, pressed the button to open the garage door and backed out of the driveway.
I drove out of the neighborhood, headed home to Santa Monica. On a lonely stretch of highway, I pulled off to the side of the road, threw Kelsey’s phone on the ground and drove over it several times. Finally, leaving it cracked, broken, and dead.
Just as I had done to Kelsey.
