With any luck, Mom wouldn’t wake up until noon, and by the time she came downstairs, the mess would be—
“Baking again, are we?” she said, popping her head around the doorway. She was still in her pj’s.
I jumped a little then composed myself and gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it all up, I promise.”
Luckily, Mom was still too sleepy to notice my little jump. “What are you making this time?”
“Rocky Road cupcakes. Marshmallow?” I pushed an open bag of marshmallows across the kitchen island.
Mom poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the counter. “Sounds yummy. What’s with the hardcore baking sessions nowadays?”
“I’ve been watching these cooking videos on Facebook, and some of the recipes look so delish.”
“So they have nothing to do with wanting to impress Logan?” she asked, grinning at me.
“Ew, no!” My cheeks grew warm, and I turned to look at the oven so Mom wouldn’t be able to see my expression. She’d think I was blushing because I was shy. The truth was, I was turning red because I was practically boiling with rage. I was on a mission, the most important quest that would make or break the rest of my life: I was going to drug Logan, keep him off balance until I could find some way of escaping this nightmare, and my own mother was so clueless she thought I was just doing this to impress my boyfriend. Unbidden, Brandon’s voice rose to the surface, like a bubble floating up a dank swamp, bursting, releasing its noxious poison fumes. Stupid bitch.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. I shouldn’t be angry at Mom. None of this was her fault. Okay, some of it was her fault. But most of it was Logan’s. All of my pent-up rage, my cold fury, should be directed at him. I took a deep breath.
Mom laughed. “It’s okay to want to do nice things for your boyfriend, Dee. Mmm, they really do smell good.”
I turned around in time to see Mom reaching to dip her finger into the frosting bowl. “No!” I leapt across the counter and smacked her hand.
“Ouch! Heeey!” Mom said, frowning and rubbing her hand.
“That one’s got peanut butter in it,” I said, taking the mixing bowl away from her. “I don’t want you to break out in a rash.”
“Ugh. What’s with all the peanuts you’re using in your baking?” Mom grumbled. “Last time it was caramel peanut butter cookies, and then the time before that it was banana peanut butter muffins, and now—”
“I knew you’d say that, which is why I’ve got a peanut-free batch in the fridge.”
Mom brightened up. “Really? Best daughter ever.” She pinched my cheek like I was all of two years old and walked out of the kitchen, humming to herself. I didn’t want to wait around to have a chat with Mom about baking and impressing the boyfriend I was desperate to get rid of, so once the second batch was out, I washed all the dirty dishes, separated the cupcakes into various Tupperware containers, and zipped out of the house.
On the bus to Draycott, I did what I’d been obsessing over the last few days: I ruminated on how the hell I could get myself free of Logan. Step One was easy: throw him off balance so I could plot the next step. Step Two: um…
I caught a corner of my thumbnail between my teeth and yanked hard, ripping the tip of the nail off. The pain snatched me from my dark thoughts, and I watched the blood welling from my thumb. It made me think of Brandon’s blood. I licked it off and squeezed my thumb, watching as more blood trickled out.
Before I knew it, I was at Draycott.
Aisha was still grumpy with sleep when she opened the door to her room. “Why do you always insist on meeting so early?” she grumbled, slouching back in and slumping down on her bed.
“Uh, it’s almost noon, and I brought cupcakes.” I held up a container of frosting-free cupcakes, and she snatched it from my hands.
She inhaled deeply and sighed. “Mmm, real sugar. Frikkin’ Draycott. Everything here’s made with agave nectar or some other bullshit healthy sweetener. You know, before I came here, I was whatever about sugar. Now I legit crave it. This place is gonna give me an eating disorder, I swear.” She took a big bite and leaned back with a happy grunt. “This is so good, Dee.”
“It’s just a boxed cake mix. All I had to do was add eggs and oil to the mix.”
“That’s why it’s so good.” She ducked, laughing, when I took a swipe at her. Then her expression turned somber, and she leveled her gaze at me. “How’re you holding up?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I still don’t know how I’m going to get out of this.”
“Well,” Aisha said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and you said he has a video he’s holding over you. What do you think of breaking into his room and looking for it?”
My mouth dropped open. I was about to tell her that the idea was completely nuts when my mind caught up with my mouth and closed it. Why not? Step Two: find the video of me killing Brandon. Once that was gone, Logan would have nothing to hold over me. And where else would it be if not his room? But the thought of breaking into Logan’s room made my stomach twist in a way that stole my breath. “I don’t know. How would I even do that?” I may be a drug dealer, but when it came to breaking and entering, I was as clueless as they come. Also, it sounded dangerous as hell. “If I got caught, I’d be expelled—”
“Okay, first of all, I think you mean how would we do that.”
“Aish, I can’t make you do that. It’s so dangerous. We could get in so much trouble.”
Aisha snorted. “Dude, I’ve been a model student all my life. I’m dying to break some rules before I graduate. Plus, it’s for a good cause. I hate the thought of some asshole guy blackmailing you. Even if he is hot.”
I hugged her tight. It felt good to have Aisha on my side. I really didn’t deserve her. She and Mom were the only two people keeping me going.
“Okay, okay!” she said, laughing. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” She glanced at her phone and scrambled to her feet. “Crap, I need to go feed Lucy. This feeding day happened to fall on the weekend—total bummer.”
“That’s what you get for volunteering to feed the bio lab snake,” I said.
Aisha sighed. “I thought it would look good on my college apps. I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyway, you wanna wait here, or you wanna meet me somewhere?”
“Actually, can I come watch?” I said. Ugh. Why did I just say that? Who the hell wants to watch some poor rat being fed to a snake? But even as I thought that, I realized I did. In a hide-behind-a-cushion-and-squeal sort of way.
Aisha paused in the middle of putting on a pair of jeans and stared at me. “You wanna come watch me feed Lucy? Oookay. Don’t blame me when you pass out.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, elbowing her gently.
Weekends at Draycott gave me an unshakable feeling of being out of place. The vibe was so different—students were in casual wear instead of the gray or blue blazers we were required to wear on schooldays. We walked into Wheeler Hall, and the eerie silence of the inside of the building pressed in on me. Our footsteps rang loudly down the corridor, and I wanted to turn around and run back out into the sunlight but for a small part of me that found itself inexplicably drawn toward the idea of watching Lucy eat.
Aisha unlocked the biology classroom and headed to the back of the room, where the rats were kept. I perched at the edge of a table in front of Lucy’s tank and watched as Aisha picked out a large rat—a white male with a black spot on its head. She unlocked a small window at the top of Lucy’s cage with practiced efficiency and dropped the rat in without hesitation before brushing her hands off.
“All right, let’s go,” she said.
My eyes were glued to the tank. The rat had sensed danger and was perfectly still, one front paw slightly raised, haunches rigid.
“Hellooo, earth to Dee,” Aisha said, waving her hand in front of my face. “Come
on, let’s go get lunch.”
“Can we stay?” I muttered. The coil of vivid colors was moving. Lucy had sensed prey.
“Uh, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Aisha asked.
When I didn’t reply, she stepped right in front of me, blocking my view. “Dude, it’s pretty gross stuff. You sure you’re up for it?”
It took a surprising amount of effort not to push Aisha aside. I willed myself to give her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m really curious.”
Aisha stared at me for a few seconds, biting her lip, before shrugging and moving aside. She sat down next to me, took out her phone, and started scrolling through social media.
Lucy’s head had popped out from under the coils of her body, and she was moving with aching slowness, her tongue flicking out now and again to taste the air. My skin crawled, although I wasn’t sure whether it crawled to get away from Lucy or to move toward her. The rat’s whiskers twitched as Lucy slithered close. It raised its front paw ever so slightly, the two creatures moving slow and silent as molasses. Then the rat started, and Lucy’s head darted forward, impossibly fast.
I was still watching the spot where the rat had been when I realized it was no longer there. Lucy had the front half of the rat in her mouth. The rat’s back legs scrabbled madly, its tail swishing like it had a mind of its own. Lucy ignored all of its movements, continuing to swallow it, and as more of its body slid down her throat, the rat became limp. Soon, only its tail remained visible, and then that, too, was slurped up. As Aisha and I walked out of the classroom, I took one last look at Lucy. She was back in her favorite corner, her head tucked into a hollow log. Of the white rat with the black spot on its head, no traces remained.
The rat was me. Or rather, it used to be me. But not anymore. I wasn’t going to let Logan corner me and swallow me whole like I was some helpless prey. Step Three: be the snake.
Chapter Seventeen
Logan
“—man, hey, you okay? Logan?”
I blinked, and Josh’s face swam back into focus. It was wearing a very familiar expression—concern, tinged with uneasiness. I forced my voice to come out casual. “Yeah, what’s up?”
I could practically see the weight leaving Josh’s shoulders, the tension melting from his features. “The game, remember? Against those assholes from Applewood?” He rubbed his palms together, and the noise grated in my ears.
“Stop.”
Josh looked down with a surprised frown and that was when I realized I’d reached out and grabbed his hands, tight. So tight that my knuckles were white. I released him quickly and tried for a simple, harmless grin. Except I thought the grin came out looking manic. What the hell was up with me? The last few days, I’d felt really weird. I wasn’t sure how to describe it; but sometimes I’d feel incredible, like I could sprint and fly up and touch the fucking sky. Sometimes, the world felt like it was in the palm of my hand, ripe for the taking. And then suddenly I’d come crashing down, like now, and I just wanted to lash out at anyone who had the misfortune to be near me. “Sorry,” I mumbled to Josh.
“It’s fine,” he laughed, lying through his fucking teeth. I could punch those perfect white teeth straight out—
Whoa. Seriously, what the hell was going on with me?
My phone beeped with a text.
Delilah [2:47 p.m.]:
I’m swamped at the library. Rain check on our study date? xo
Warmth flooded through my chest. Nowadays, her messages were often punctuated with x’s and o’s. We still hadn’t kissed, but we were slowly getting there, we really were. I knew just what I needed. I needed Dee. The past few days, she’d been so different. She was opening up to me. Like a flower slowly blooming. After classes ended, I’d gone to my locker to find that Delilah had left me a surprise: a red velvet cupcake she’d baked. I’d eaten it then and there, grinning like an idiot the whole time. She’d been baking so many cupcakes lately, and either left them in my locker as a surprise gift or gave them to me in person, watching with an affectionate smile as I ate, asking me sweetly if they tasted okay. Whenever she was around, I felt invincible, like I could literally move faster than the speed of light. And then she’d go to class or go home or whatever, and the weight of the world would crush me. I needed her.
“Logan?” Josh said, frowning again, but his voice was coming from a distance. I supposed that wasn’t weird; we’d been drifting apart for a while now. I tuned out his meaningless chatter for a while, until he said, “—Delilah?” and suddenly, he was right next to me again, his voice coming in at a normal volume.
I snapped back to reality. “What?”
“I said, is that Delilah?” Josh pointed to a girl across the quad, walking with some guy. Though their backs were turned toward us, I knew from the way the girl moved and the way she tilted her head just so that it was her. My Delilah. But I thought she was busy at the library. The guy said something and she laughed, the sound of it carrying crystal clear even from this distance. It stabbed through my guts and twisted like a goddamn knife. And I thought things had been going so well with her.
I blinked, and I was halfway across the quad. Part of me registered that Josh was somewhere behind me, running after me and calling my name. I blinked again, and I was right behind Delilah and the guy, this fucking prick whose head I was going to bash in. I reached out to grab his shoulder—
“Logan!” Josh shouted, and the couple turned.
It wasn’t Delilah. This girl wasn’t anything like her. I vaguely recognized her as some sophomore.
“Not her,” I muttered.
“Heyyy,” Josh half gasped, half laughed as he caught up. “How’re you guys doing? You okay? Great, ha ha.” He waved at the confused couple and led me away by the arm like I was some misbehaving toddler. “What happened there, Logan?” His voice came out low and serious. Gone was Meathead Josh. Now it was Concerned Bestie Josh, and there was honestly no one I hated more than Concerned Bestie Josh who thought he knew what was best for me. I’d had enough. I knew what was best for me. It was Delilah. Delilah was everything I needed. I walked away from Josh, ignoring his stupid whines about stopping and having a chat. I had to get out of there, get some air.
I didn’t remember walking off campus, but I must’ve, because when I next blinked, I was standing outside of Dee’s house again.
What the fuck?
I knew I shouldn’t, but I wanted to be close to her, in any way I could. So I climbed the trellis again and eased myself inside. And this time, there was no one home to trap me in the bathroom.
* * *
Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was meant to be. I didn’t mean to, but now that I was here, how could I ignore the opportunity? Clearly I was meant to be here, if not by my own design, then by some cosmic interference. I was in Delilah’s bedroom. Her inner sanctuary. With no one holding me back. I could look all I wanted, touch everything I desired.
I swallowed. Forced my breathing to even out a bit. And then I looked. Really looked. And god. Delilah, your room is so, unapologetically, beautifully you.
I’d only ever seen it from outside, spying on her from across the street while she was working at her computer, nibbling at her fingernails, and bopping her head along to some music, or when she was drying her hair. I’d only caught glimpses of it. But now, the sense of her was overwhelming. I had enough presence of mind to check the time on my phone, at least. 3:28 p.m. She was still at work. She was so hardworking, my little worker bee buzzing away at her job. Her mom was also still at work. She worked in tech; their hours were brutal. So. This was really a gift from the universe, rewarding me for being such a good boy, for being ever so patient with her. I’d never even tried to kiss her, not since our first date. I knew that had to be her move.
I remained respectful, even though yes, Universe, I heard you loud and clear, and I was grateful to be led here. I walked around
carefully, trailing my fingertips across her things. Her wall was plastered with all sorts of decor: there were photo frames that had been taken apart and turned into jewelry organizers, a sign in cursive that said Good Vibes Only—which, okay, kind of basic, but I supposed no one was perfect—and photos. So many photos. I took my time looking at each one. So many of her dad, laughing, one of him at work, looking serious. She was such a daddy’s girl. A handful of her mom, who was a stunner back in the day, and then dozens of Dee and her old friends. When I was done with the pictures, I went to the jewelry organizers, touching each trinket, delighting in the knowledge that they had been on her skin, warmed by her body heat. I couldn’t help taking a souvenir. Just a small aquamarine earring she would not miss; she had so many of the things, over two dozen pairs at a glance. She’d understand that I did it because I loved her, because I couldn’t have enough of her.
Then came the drawers. I didn’t steal her panties or bra or anything like that. I wasn’t that person. I respected Dee. I worshipped her. I didn’t even touch any of her underwear, even though I wanted to. But no. I moved on. I pulled out a pair of flannel pajamas and pressed my face into it, engulfing myself in the beautiful scent of her. The pajamas were pink with pineapples on them, and fuck, I bet Delilah looked absolutely adorable in them.
I sat down on her bed. I lay down, my head right where hers was every night. I imagined her right there next to me, going to sleep. I’d watch her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed, and I damn near burst into tears because I wanted that so badly. I clutched her earring so hard that sharp pain sparked up my arm, and I started. The back of the earring had pierced my palm. These things were dangerous. She shouldn’t be wearing them. Why did she wear jewelry, anyway? She didn’t need to wear jewelry or makeup, she looked beautiful as she was, and she didn’t need to be attracting any other guy.
The Obsession Page 17