Coffee and Cigarettes

"Have you heard anything new yet?" I panted as I sprinted through my front door, Libby following close behind. We had scrambled from her house all the way over to mine in what seemed like mere seconds. My mother paced the living room in silence as my father spoke hurriedly into the phone with who I assumed were the police.

"No," Bob said as he shook his head.

"How'd you find out that she was missing?" Libby asked out of curiosity.

"She went out with her friends," Mom explained. "She was out with about three or four people, but somehow got separated. They called us about twenty minutes ago because they'd been passed out since four o'clock."

"Well, did you ask them where they were last night?" I asked, trying to sound calmer than I really was. I was worried...she was my sister, after all.

Mom nodded. "Yes. They don't remember. The only thing they can recall is going to some club or something..." She shook her head. "It isn't enough that she had to bail on her chores and her duties, but she's off drinking and clubbing underage now, too."

"We'll find her," Bob said reassuringly, placing his hand on my mom's shoulder. "Don't you worry about it."

"The police have a Missing Person's report that they're going to show on the news tonight and tomorrow," my dad said, hanging up the phone. "Hopefully we'll find her soon. They said they'd look for her right away."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, the reliability of the New Jersey Police Department," I muttered under my breath. "Come on, Libby."

"Where are we going?" she asked me as she zipped up her hoodie on the way out the door.

"We're going to find her ourselves," I said, rushing out of the New Jersey suburbs and into the streets of downtown. I pulled out my wallet and checked how much money I had. "Twelve dollars," I grumbled. "How much do you have, Lib?"

"Um," she checked her pockets and fished out two twenty dollar bills. "Hey, I didn't know I had these!" She looked down at her legs. "Maybe these are my mother's pants..."

"Who cares," I said hurriedly, snatching the money out of her hands. "We need this to get a taxi. We're going to comb the streets of Jersey for Blair."

"With fifty-two dollars?" Libby said skeptically. "Good luck with that."

I shrugged. "Hey, at least we have enough here to take us to the heart of the city. Now, come on. Help me wave down a taxi."

It took us five minutes and a whole lot of yelling and screaming before we finally caught a cab--I guess taxi drivers don't take teenagers seriously or something. We slid into the back of the car and told him to drive us around downtown for a while, around the clubbing vicinity.

"Thirty seven dollars," he said with a thick Jersey accent. We handed him the money and he gave us back some change.

"Thirty seven dollars for a fifteen minute car ride?" Libby hissed. "That's highway robbery!"

"It doesn't matter, we have to find Blair."

We ran around for a little while, going to each club that was nearby. The bouncers at the doors kept asking for our IDs and we kept telling them that we were looking for my sister. I showed them all her photo, they said they either hadn't seen her before or that a lot of tall, skinny blonde girls come and go and that keeping track of them would be impossible.

I checked my phone--the clock read 10:37. "Shit," I muttered. "We have to get home."

"There's one more club down the street," Libby urged. "Come on, let's go check it out."

We made our way over to the doors which were blaring the same repetitive beat and heavy bass. The bouncers stood tall and strong, probably at around six foot two, with big red and black polos, their arms crossed.

"I.D, please." One said, his hand outstretched.

"We're not here for leisure," I replied testily. "I'm looking for my sister. This is her picture." I pulled out the family portrait I kept in my wallet and they studied it carefully.

One nodded. "Yeah, I remember her. Came in blitzed with about three other people. Kept flirting with anything that moved. Why, what happened?"

"She's missing," Libby said bluntly. "Why else would we be looking for her?"

"Look," the first bouncer said. "We don't have time to deal with this. We're on the clock, here. Deal with it yourselves, we have better things to do."

"Let us talk to the manager of the club," I insisted. "Or at least let us see the security tapes. Something. Anything."

The second one sighed. "I'll take them to Mr. Kerns, James." The first bouncer, who's name was apparently James, nodded and the second guy took us to see the manager.

He led us down a long hallway past the crowd of drunken people and the thick and sour odour of alcohol. We finally got to the manager's office. The label on the door read, Harold Kerns; Manager.

The second bouncer, who's name we had learned was Darryl, knocked on the door and called out to his boss. Momentarily, we were sitting in two chairs across from a stocky, middle-aged man, smoke from his cigar eclipsing us and making it difficult to breathe.

"What can I do for you today, ladies?" he said.

Libby spoke up. "We're looking for a girl named Blair Bryar," she explained. "She came in here with three other people in the early morning."

Mr. Kerns went over to the security tapes and watched the one from yesterday with us. After about ten minutes, we had found the right tape. It was of Blair at the bar with some random guy in a dark red polo.

"I know that polo..." Libby said, squinting her eyes. "That man works at the Super 8 Motel!"

"That's great, but who is he?" I grumbled.

Mr. Kerns blinked and then spoke. "That's Jon Bishops, he's a regular here."

Libby's head and mine snapped in his direction. "Where's the Super 8 Motel?" we demanded in unison.

"Down the street," he replied.

Without another word, we ran out the door and bolted past Darryl and James. While we ran, I pulled out my cell phone and called my mother. "Mom, we have a lead, we'll be back as soon as we can. Love you, bye!"

The back of the motel was finally in sight. We ran to it and ran past a few windows with the curtains covering them. However, one window caught my eye. The curtains were half-drawn, and I saw a body lying on the bed with the sheets half-covering it. I did a double take and saw that it was Blair.

Libby must've taken notice when I started pounding on the window, because she started pounding on it as well. Luckily, Libby was a bit of a delinquent as a kid and she managed to somehow tamper with the window, causing it to open just enough to climb through once she had cut open the screen.

We hopped into the motel room and I immediately rushed to Blair's side. She was lying on her stomach, her bare back exposed, catching the moonlight. Her lower half was covered by a white blanket. "Blair, wake up!" I cried, shaking her slightly. I kept shaking her as Libby went to fetch a damp cloth. Once Libby had retrieved said cloth, she wrung it out over Blair's face. Some of the water got into her mouth and nose and she started to cough.

"Oh, thank God," I said with a sigh of relief. "Libby, call my mom." I tossed her my cell phone and helped Blair up, careful to keep her covered in the blanket. "Blair, what happened? Where were you?"

"I should be asking the same question," she said, her throat scratchy. "The last thing I remember is going to that club...then hooking up with some guy and then...that's it." She looked down at herself. "Looks like I did more than just make out with him, huh?" she chuckled.

"Well...yeah," I said, giving her a faint smile. "Come on, let's get you dressed so that we can go home."

Libby walked over. "I suggest we go out the window again, unless you really want to go to the front desk and pay for the use of this room. Your mom is going to come pick us up."

"What time is it?" Blair said, getting dressed and regaining her balance. "Oh man...what a hangover. My head is pounding like a jackhammer."

"It's past eleven." I replied. "Come on."

We climbed through the window again and waited in the cool, crisp September air and stood by the curb as we waited for my mother to come fetch us.

She finally came and immediately engulfed her in a massive hug. "Never do that again," she cried hysterically. "Never ever. Promise me."

"I promise," Blair replied tearfully into my mother's arms.

When we came home, it was a happy reunion. There were lots of tears, lots of hugs. Libby went home and I went to bed. However, as I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling, I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Something still wasn't right.