by Calia Read
I have only seen Thayer a few times, and from those few times I know two things: He doesn’t know who I am and Severine hasn’t mentioned a thing about why I’m here.
If Thayer did know my plan, he wouldn’t be walking next to me up the stairwell.
I’m sure he’s picking up Severine for a Halloween party. Before I left my room, Severine and Lily were getting ready. Our room looks like Severine’s closet threw up. That was an hour ago.
“Are you doing anything fun for Halloween?” he asks, friendly.
Moving my hand, I point to the books. “I have a crazy night filled with reading.”
Thayer shakes his head. “God, you’d like my brother.”
I stare at his profile, trying to see if there is any family resemblance between him and Macsen. I see nothing that can link them together … other than the height. Their personalities aren’t even similar. Thayer is friendly and seems outgoing, and Macsen is completely guarded.
I give Thayer a small smile. “I know Macsen.”
Thayer looks over at me. “And?”
“And he is ... interesting.” My answer is honest. Something I’m not doing a lot of lately. “And really smart,” I say as an afterthought.
Something crosses over his face. He stares straight ahead and gives me a tight nod. “I guess.”
Silence drifts between us. We’re almost to my room. I look over at Severine’s boyfriend, the guy that she so desperately wants to keep. “What are you and Severine doing tonight?”
“Going to a party.”
I pretend to be interested. “But you’re not dressed up.”
We turn the corner toward my room and he laughs. “I never dress up for Halloween. Ever.”
“I can’t say I blame you.” My footsteps slow down as I reach my door. Thayer opens it for me once again. Laughter fills the room. I’m not used to that. I thank him as I walk into the small room, and the minute I do, Severine stops laughing. She’s sitting on the floor, putting her makeup on by the mirror. The smile is erased from her face, and she flicks her gaze between Thayer and me.
Lily is quiet. She’s lying on Severine’s bed with a curious look on her face.
I walk over to my desk and call over my shoulder, “Hi, Lily.”
She looks confused by my kindness. “Hey ... Emilia.”
“Hey, baby.” Thayer says across the room. He wraps an arm around Severine and kisses the top of her head. “Will you be ready soon?”
Severine looks down at the makeup spread around her legs, and gives Thayer a brief nod. “Give me a few minutes.”
Our talk at the diner was a few weeks ago. Severine and I act like it happened yesterday. Tension hugs the two of us whenever we’re in the room together. I know that soon, one of us will snap. No one can stay this quiet without being internally tortured.
I feel like I’m sharing the room with my sister again. After a big fight, the two of us wouldn’t even acknowledge each other. Sometimes, it would last for a few minutes. Sometimes, it would get out of control and there would be tape drawn down the middle of the carpet, marking off our sides of the room.
If Severine had a roll of tape, I have no doubt there’d be taped boundaries within our tiny room.
The three of them talk around me. I sit in my chair and slowly turn it around. Severine’s putting on her heels and I know she’s ready to hightail it out of here. She stands to her full height and glances over at Thayer. “Let’s go.”
He’s leaning against her closet, picking at his fingers, acting like he’s used to waiting. “Finally,” he teases and grabs Severine’s arm.
Lily grabs her stuff behind them and gives me a small smile. I know she’s Severine’s friend, and I’m sure she’s heard everything about me, but I swear I see concern in her eyes when she looks me over.
“Why don’t you come with us?” she asks.
Severine halts in her tracks and whips her head back to stare at Lily. I’m waiting for Lily to take it back, but she plays with her purse and pointedly ignores Severine. “My boyfriend is having a huge party. If you have nothing to do tonight, you should come with us.”
It was a pity invite. I’m going to say no, but Severine steps forward quickly. “Emilia can’t. She already mentioned she was busy.” Severine turns around to look at me. “Aren’t you?”
Tonight is going to be a relaxing night of reading. Tosha’s going out with her newest conquest and my options become pretty limited after that. Sadly, I’m okay with being by myself. After I finished up with my classes this afternoon, I came to the conclusion that I needed a break from my list.
“Severine’s right,” I reply slowly. “I have a busy night ahead.”
“Okay...” Lily frowns and gives me an awkward wave. “Well, have fun.”
“You too.”
Severine’s already out the door with Thayer. I didn’t expect a heartfelt good-bye from her. Lily’s heels click against the floor as she hurries toward the door. The doorknob clicks in place. I lean my head back against the chair and close my eyes.
My phone rings. I grind my teeth together, opening my eyes. It’s Aniston. “Hello?”
“What is my sister doing tonight?” he slurs out. In the background, there’s a lot of noise.
“I’m not drinking … like you,” I mutter.
He laughs loudly, and I hear him shut a door. “Where are you?”
“Outside, getting a breath of fresh air.”
“Aniston, it’s only nine. Why are you already drunk?”
“Um … because it’s the weekend and that deserves a celebration.” Aniston chuckles as if he’s said the funniest thing.
“Call me when you’re sober, okay?”
“Have you destroyed Macsen?” he asks seriously.
My anxiety goes up a notch and I look around the room in paranoia, like my brother can see the guilt on my face.
Now that Severine knows what I’m up to, I’ve thought about my plan and when I should attack. I’ve thought about how I would use all of Macsen’s weaknesses to humiliate him in front of everyone. But that’s easier said than done because the perfect time hasn’t come yet.
“Patience,” I tell my brother.
Aniston sighs. “What are you really doing over there? You’re closing in on two months.”
“Give me a break.”
“No!” he shouts. “I know you, and I know you’re starting to chicken out. Finish him and get home.”
“Stop being an asshole for one second and I’ll explain to you that I’m getting to know him slowly. This takes time.”
“How much time do you need, Emilia? Another month, a year?”
“Shut up,” I reply darkly.
A silence closes in on us. Aniston clears his throat and his voice is kinder. “Just watch yourself around him. Never forget what he did to us.”
“I won’t.”
We hang up and I toss my phone onto the bed. My entire body shakes, because for the first time, I’m questioning my sister and the truth.
Standing, I go to my closet and change my clothes. I have to get out of my room. I find a white v-neck shirt and a black, heavy cardigan and slide into a pair of jeans. I slip on my knee high, black suede boots. When I’m done, I feel better. This is dressing down for me. It’s sacrilegious in my house to walk around in sweatpants and hoodies.
I stuff a few books in my bag and place my keys into my back pocket. I’m out the door and down the steps in seconds.
It’s quiet. Everyone is either already out or getting ready to go out. I enjoy the cool crisp air and the sound of leaves underneath my boots as I walk toward my car.
A truck rumbles on the road. I take a sharp left on the sidewalk— right next to Macsen Sloan. He’s waiting at the stop sign, sitting in his idling truck. For a second, we both stare at each other.
“Emilia?” he asks with shock.
My fingers latch onto the strap of my bag and play with a loose string while I stare at Macsen. “Hey,” I say dumbly.
; He leans his head back against his seat and puts his truck in park, right in the middle of the road. “What are you doing tonight?”
I heft part of my bag in the air and point. There are headlights coming up behind him so I speak quickly, “I’m going to go get a non-coffee beverage and read.”
He smirks and rests his elbow against the window seal. His sleeve rides up and I see the tan skin of his forearm. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him mischievously. “I was reading long before you.”
“But were you reading quality stories?”
“Yes.” Two cars pull up behind him. I nudge my head in that direction. “You want to get out of the road? People are waiting behind you.”
Macsen doesn’t even look. “I’m fine here.”
“You could cause a wreck,” I point out.
Finally, he peeks his head out the window and shrugs when he sees all the cars. “You’re really paranoid, Emilia.”
“Just get out of the road,” I say urgently. I count four headlights behind him, and now a few cars are starting to honk.
He gives me his profile and drums his thumbs against his steering wheel before he suddenly whips his head back to me. “Let’s do something tonight.”
More cars pull up behind him, and the honking increases. He’s staring at me with that solemn face. His black brows are pulled tight over his eyes. I can’t see his light green eyes from here. All I can make out are the angles of his face. The sharp line of his cheekbones, his strong jaw and lips stretched tight, waiting for me to answer. I see what every girl sees, but right now, I’m starting to understand them. I feel like one of them, because I want to say yes.
My feet are anxious, wanting to step forward. “Isn’t that against the rules?” I shout above all the honking. “Hanging out with people that you tutor?”
He laughs loudly. “No, not at all.”
“I already have plans.”
When he leans his head out of the window, his eyes are bright with happiness. “Yes, I know,” he points at my bag, “the same thing I was going to do tonight. I’m bored with that, so let’s do something fun.”
‘Go, be broken glass.’ Tosha’s words ring in my ears. I want to be the analogy that my friend thought me to be. More than that, I want to prove to Aniston and myself that I can still get revenge on Macsen.
I give him a slow nod and ignore the triumphant smile on his face as I walk across the road, toss my bag on the seat, and hurriedly get in.
This is all for revenge. I reason in my head. And it makes sense to me. That’s why I feel a surge of happiness when I open up the passenger door and get into his truck.
His truck is already moving as I buckle up. “I hope you don’t usually park your truck in the middle of the road.”
“Never, but I was talking to you,” he says quietly.
I get way too much pleasure from his words. “You can talk to me on the side of road, too,” I tell him solemnly.
Placing my hands on my knees, I stare at the interior of his truck. Not surprisingly, there are books stacked in the backseat.
“But that was kind of fun,” Macsen says with a smirk.
I give him a curious look because he’s way too happy. “What’s up with you tonight?” I cross my arms and tap my foot against the floorboard. When he opens his mouth, I interject, “Did you re-read As I Lay Dying and realize Darl is a nut job and I’ve been right the entire time?”
Macsen slides a look in my direction. “I stand by my theory.”
“We will see,” I murmur.
We drive off campus and blend in with the flow of traffic. Everything is lit up. Restaurants, gas stations, grocery stores—they’re all still open. All of them have pumpkins and Halloween-themed junk taped to their windows.
“I’m surprised you’re not dressed up and going to some party.”
My expression is filled with horror. “Me and Halloween? Give me more credit that that.”
“Not true. I could see you dressing up as one of your favorite book characters.”
My lip scrunches up. “I would do that.”
“Who would you go as?” he asks.
I turn my head out the window, feeling shy. “Not telling.”
“Come on, tell me, Emilia.”
My body turns just because he says my name. When he says it, Emilia sounds unique and all mine, like the name was meant for me. Goosebumps form on my arm and I rub them slowly, looking at Macsen the entire time. “I’d be Hester Prynne, or Daisy Buchanan.”
Macsen looks away from the road and frowns at me. “I understand Daisy ...The Great Gatsby, I get it. But Hester Prynne from The Scarlett Letter? You did read the book, right?”
My sigh is dramatic. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”
“Tell me then.” I’ve sat across from Macsen for almost two months, listening to him explain the problems that confuse me the most. He understands it all. But for once, he’s stumped. I can see he’s dying to hear my answer. This might be the first time Macsen didn’t have the right answer.
I keep my lips together and shrug. “If you can see the good in Darl, surely you can see the good in Hester.”
“I didn’t say I don’t see the good in her. I would just never expect you to like her.”
A retort is ready to slip out, but he pulls into a parking lot with cars scattered everywhere. I look at the sign next to the road. The bright lights spell out Playmore Lanes. More flashing lights blink on and off, leading to four bowling pins that move back and forth as if they’re going to fall down.
My jaw drops. “Bowling. You’re taking me bowling?”
“What?” Macsen pulls his keys out of the ignition and faces me with a smirk. “Bowling will be fun. You’ve bowled before, right?”
“Yes,” I mutter, “I have.”
Complete lie. I have never bowled in my life.
We walk into the bowling alley and I’m met with loud eighties music and the sound of pins crashing together. I give Macsen a look as he guides us toward a counter with a pudgy kid sitting behind it. The kid barely glances up.
I’m looking all around me, taking in the blue carpet with shooting stars and colorful circles peppered around those stars. A few game machines are lined against the wall, and further down, there’s a place to order greasy food.
Macsen stacks two old pairs of shoes on top of one another and nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t make that face.”
I pull my eyes away from the shoes. “I can’t help it,” I confess reluctantly.
We find an open table. I slide into the off-white plastic chair and look around. Macsen hands me the shoes and I stare down at them and slide them across the table. “I’m okay wearing my shoes, but thanks.”
Macsen is taking off his shoes and pauses long enough to slide them back to me. “Put them on. You can’t bowl in your boots, Emilia.” I make a face and he smirks. “You’re wearing socks. It’s not like you’re going to get Athlete’s foot or something.”
By the time I’m leaning down, Macsen already has his borrowed shoes on. He sits back in his chair. With Macsen watching me quietly, I can hardly get my boots off. His stare makes me nervous. I keep my head down the entire time. I make another face as I finally slide my feet into the shitty, loaned-out pair of shoes.
“If you think about who wore them before you, you’re gonna ruin it,” Macsen points out.
“Think about it,” I urge as I sit up. “Some sweaty, overweight dude that lives with his parents could’ve worn the pair on your feet. That doesn’t freak you out?”
He stands and waits for me. Without my boots, I come up to his shoulder. “When you put it like that, kind of. Now. Are you going to keep stalling, or are we going to bowl? I want to see your moves.”
I roll my eyes and follow him down the steps, toward the shelves of bowling balls. “I have no moves when it comes to,” I pause and fling my hand in the direction of the lanes, “this.”
Macsen does
n’t respond. He’s too busy trying to find a bowling ball. I stare down at his bent head and watch the muscles in his back flex as he reaches for a ball. Proudly, he holds up a black ball. “Okay. Pick one out for yourself.”
I only lift a brow and step closer. “How much do these things weigh?”
“Not a lot, but you probably need a light one.”
I pick up a lime green one. I didn’t try out another; this one fits just fine. Awkwardly, I hold my ball and walk over to our lane. Macsen is standing over the screen, peck-typing our names.
He finishes and rubs his hands together before he points at me. “Okay. You’re first.”
Quickly, I protest, “I don’t want to go first. I’ve never done this.” Caught.
“Emilia, you pick up the ball and roll it down there. It either catches a few pins, hits them all or hits none. It’s that simple.”
I glance over at the drunken couple next to us and watch the female bowl. She takes a few steps forward and precisely lets the ball drop. She hits all but one and seems really excited about that.
I turn back to Macsen with confusion. He smiles. “If she hits the last one on her next turn, it’s a spare.”
I nod and walk up the steps to the spotless wood floor. The sport of bowling seems simple enough. I take a few steps, hold the ball with both hands, and dangle it between my legs.
“Emilia!”
With my back still bent, I turn back to Macsen. He rubs a hand down his face and reluctantly smiles. “What the hell are you doing?”
I look at the lane and back at him. “Bowling.”
“You know, I’m sure we can get them to put those bumper pads that they use for children’s birthdays on our lane.” Macsen leans his hip against the chair and grins.
Turning my focus back to the lane, I grit out. “Let me bowl. I have this.”
“God,” he mutters, “I can’t even watch.”
Maybe I’m butchering the real way, but how I’m doing it is fun. I give the ball one big heft and let it go. There is no art form to my toss. It rolls slowly down the lane.
I walk back to Macsen. He’s watching the ball with fixation. I’m just crossing my fingers, hoping that I will hit just one. I end up hitting all but one pin.