by Chris Bedell
“If you insist.” I shuffled to the fridge and grabbed a diet ginger ale.
“You seem extra happy.” Mom placed her mug on the kitchen counter next to the oven. “Does it have anything to do with Archie.”
“That obvious?”
“There’s no shame in being happy. Archie is your first real relationship.”
“Don’t have to tell me that.”
“Does he treat you right?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, I’m a lucky guy.”
“Just don’t move too fast.”
I almost choked on my soda. “Come again?”
“There’s plenty of time for you to have adult experiences.”
Mom couldn’t have implied what I suspected. I’d rather experience nails across a chalkboard than have this conversation. Not every cliché teen experience had to come. I’d be fine if Mom didn’t discuss “the birds and the bees.”
I folded my arms. “You aren’t trying to have a sex talk with me, are you?”
“I’m your mother.”
Please. As if that gave her a right to discuss something so personal—I never once asked her any nosey questions.
“That doesn’t have mean I wanna discuss this with you. Have you heard of the internet?” I asked.
“Please be careful,” Mom said.
“Sex is probably the last thing on Archie’s mind.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
If a serial killer from a 1980’s slasher moved appeared in my kitchen and slit my throat, I wouldn’t have complained. Disbelief flooded my body since a couple minutes into this conversation. My potential sex life shouldn’t have resembled a seventh grader dissecting a frog in Biology. Some things—like whether I’d get naked with another human being—were meant to stay private.
“You’re my mother—you’ve gotta have a positive opinion of me,” I said.
The oven chimed.
“Maybe.” Mom slid the oven mitts onto her hands, then opened the oven, allowing the heat from it to permeate the kitchen. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m surprised about one thing, though.” Mom placed the tray containing the pie on the middle of the stove. Then, she tossed the oven mitts aside. “I always thought you’d end up with Tommy.”
Mom and Mrs. Drake must’ve been drinking the same the Kool-Aid. Not once had I ever looked at Tommy as more than a friend—even in light of that incident between us that I still wasn’t ready to address. Not because he was ugly, but because boundaries were sometimes important. Like with how I didn’t wanna be more than friends with Mallory. Her not being terrible to look at didn’t mean we had to indulge our teenage hormones.
“How so?” I asked.
“You two used to be so close in middle school. Whatever. Dynamics change, and your current happiness is the only thing that matters.”
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2018
I strutted through the school hallway before first period, only to shake my head.
Mallory stood by Archie’s locker, but them being together wasn’t why my stomach remained tangled. Mallory’s gesticulating and her constipated facial expression was why someone needed to call the UN.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“We were arguing about whether or not it would rain tomorrow,” Mallory said.
I turned to Archie. “Is she telling the truth?”
“Yes,” Archie said.
Mallory licked her lips. “I’ll give you two a moment, but this isn’t over, Archie. I’ll prove to you that it’s gonna rain tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do.”
Mallory and Archie couldn’t have been arguing about the weather. And my reasoning wasn’t about being cynical. The weather was what people discussed when they didn’t actually want to chat about the real problem. Although I wasn’t sure if I could handle discovering what they talked about before my arrival—I couldn’t unlearn something once I learned it. Knowing Mallory, the topic of conversation must’ve been something bad. Even if I “forgave” Mallory, I couldn’t forget her using Archie as a pawn. Archie hadn’t deserved that. Mallory’s problem was with me, not him.
“Give it your best shot,” Archie touted.
Mallory darted down the hallway and was soon out of sight.
I glanced back at Archie. “Tell me the truth? Were you really arguing about the weather?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Archie asked.
“Have you forgotten everything Mallory has done?”
Archie wrapped around his hands around my neck, pulling me up against his body. After that, he resumed his soulful gaze. “Stop worrying.”
“I appreciate you not retaliating against Mallory because of her pursuing you to hurt me. However, you don’t have to be positive all the time.”
“I’m not lying.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say. But don’t say I didn’t give you an opportunity to be honest.”
“There’s something else we should discuss,” Archie said.
“And what’s that?”
He bit his lip. “We haven’t had the talk yet.”
Perhaps Mom was psychic. Archie and I couldn’t have been about to have the sex conversation, yet here I was, stomach in my throat. No amount of time we spent together changed how I never considered what my first time would be like.
“Great. Bring it on,” I said.
He quirked his eyebrows. “What? Have you never been with someone before?”
Yeah. I should’ve played poker. At least then I would’ve known how to hide my feelings more. Just because I had a feeling or opinion didn’t mean the whole world needed to know about it.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Archie continued.
“Easy for you to say. I’m sure you’ve been with hundreds of people.”
Archie glared at me.
“I was kidding,” I said.
“I know. I was giving you a hard time.”
“I don’t even know where to begin,” I said.
“I have a few ideas.”
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Life would be okay. Regardless of my cheeks being redder than Santa Claus’s suit, this conversation might not have been entirely unexpected. That day at the tennis court electrified every neuron in my body. My blood couldn’t help pumping through my veins faster with Archie leaning against me. Almost as if that day was the opening act to sleeping with Archie for the first time.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2018
Archie locked the door while I stood in front of my bed.
“Are we really doing this?” I asked.
“We can wait if you want to. You never get your first time back.”
Once again, even the simplest statements contained the most profound truth. No matter how much I wished I had a time machine and could undo something if it didn’t go well, life didn’t work that way. Sometimes, people just lived with the disappointment no matter how much the pain ached.
Archie smiled. “Well?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” I pulled Archie in for a kiss.
What happened next compared to a movie montage, because time didn’t freeze no matter how appealing the idea was. And a trail of our clothes soon littered my bedroom floor while Archie leaned against me.
“I love you so much,” Archie said.
I cocked my head, hands still wrapped in Archie’s. “Me too.”
He pressed his lips against mine, their soft texture caressing my mouth. We might not have had forever, but we had right now. And that was enough.
AFTER
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2019
I sat at an empty cafeteria table before first period, finishing homework from my Algebra 2 class. Apparently, some things escaped me no matter how diligent I was—I could’ve sworn I did the assignment last night.
Someone tapped my back.
I lifted my gaze off my te
xtbook and notebook. “Excited for the weekend, Mallory?”
“Yeah.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Mind if I sit?”
The constricted feeling returned to my throat.
Being at school didn’t mean I forgot about my scheming with Gemma—I hadn’t. So, a conversation might give me guilt pangs. Yet I couldn’t do anything to Mallory. Tipping her off was the last thing I needed. Gemma was probably more dangerous than Mallory—her hatred for Mallory was palpable. If I hadn’t agreed to help Gemma, then she might’ve resorted to violence for punishing Mallory. In a way, I looked out for Mallory. Even if Mallory would never see it that way if she discovered the truth.
“Well?” Mallory asked.
I nodded. “Sure. Company would be nice.”
“Thanks.” Mallory shifted her posture after sitting down next to me. “Anyway, I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“That day in the hallway when I chatted with Archie. I didn’t realize it at first, but it looked bad.”
Shit. Mallory’s contrition didn’t help me. If anything, I would’ve been able to sleep better at night if she did something even worse than her indecent proposal. At least then I wouldn’t have had any doubts about working with Gemma.
“Don’t worry about it.” I scribbled the question’s answer down in my notebook. “You can talk with Archie as much as you want.”
“That’s kind of you to say, but please don’t make excuses for me. My therapist says honesty is the only way for me be emotionally healthy.”
“You like your counselor?”
“Yes, I do. He’s neither condescending nor too blunt.”
“As long as it helps.”
“It is—I’m gonna have a great life, and there’s nothing that bitch Gemma Drake can do about it.”
Gemma. If a conversation or event didn’t return to Mallory, it came back to Gemma. I didn’t have my head stuck up my ass, and I’d have to tell her how I’d get the proof she needed to destroy Mallory—like how Kelly stored the flash drive and Tommy’s gun.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mallory asked.
“Just school stress.”
She patted my hand. “You’ll be fine.”
Wait. Not gloating to Mallory about my intentions with Gemma’s didn’t mean I couldn’t alleviate some guilt. Like with how Detective Garrison and Jones tried getting information from me. The revelation might even make Mallory trust me more, which might help my scheming with Gemma.
“I haven’t been honest with you,” I said.
She giggled. “Don’t tell me you and Gemma are secretly best friends?”
Creepy. Her joke shouldn’t have been closer to the truth than she realized. There was good intuition and then there was the freaky kind of sixth sense.
“I didn’t wanna alarm you, but the detectives assigned to Tommy’s case recently chatted with me,” I said. “I just said I didn’t know anything apart from how you and Tommy seemed content. Although I emphasized your relationship must’ve had its challenges like any other couple so they wouldn’t be too suspicious.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“I should’ve told you sooner.”
“Don’t worry about it. The detectives also spoke to me, but I basically said the same thing you did.”
“Great minds think alike.”
“No shit.” Mallory remained silent for as second. “Please don’t feel like you have to hide things from me. If we’re gonna survive the Tommy situation, then we need to be honest with each other.”
“Thanks for not getting angry.” I jotted down an answer in my notebook after solving another problem.
“I could never be annoyed with you—we’re in this together.”
“When’s your next counseling appointment?” I asked.
“Next Tuesday after school. Although Kelly is instant on driving me—something about wanting to be more supportive.”
What Mallory didn’t know was I needed to find the perfect time to break into Kelly’s safe. So, yeah. I was going to Hell. The only question was how soon it’d happen.
I feigned a smile. “Hope it goes well.”
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2019
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” I asked.
Gemma and I stood by Kelly and Mallory’s front door, yet I almost hoped Gemma changed her mind. It wasn’t too late to abandon our mission. Nobody knew what we were up to, and we could pretend we never concocted this revenge plot. No matter how jealousy of Mallory flared through my body, I couldn’t undo our plan once we did it.
She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you stalled again after agreeing to help me. So, we’re doing this.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Imagine how good it’ll feel once we decimate Mallory.”
I leaned down, then got the spare key under the doormat. The lock’s sharp click echoed, and we entered the home.
“Do you know how to break into a safe?” Gemma asked a couple of minutes later.
We currently stood in Kelly’s bedroom by her dresser, which the metal safe rested on.
I was about ready to give Gemma a dirty look, though. She should’ve had more faith in me—I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t know what I was doing.
“Yes,” I touted. “Mallory and I have broken into the safe a once or twice over the last couple years, and I saw Mallory do the combination.”
Gemma let out a breath. “Okay. Cool.”
“We can’t be too careful.” I grabbed the latex gloves from my beach bag, then put them on. “We don’t wanna implicate ourselves.”
She grinned. “You’re genius. I would’ve never thought about fingertips.”
I did the combination, then Gemma cackled.
“What’s the problem now?” I asked. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted. I mean, would some gratitude kill you?”
“I just find it funny how the combination is 6-6-6.”
Perhaps Gemma already spent too much time with me. Getting distracted over something like the safe’s combination was something I would’ve done. If she was really so concerned about her mission, then she should’ve been more focused.
The safe remained open while we continued standing in front of it.
“Don’t just stand there—do something,” Gemma said.
“We’re taking the gun and flash drive. And we should steal Mallory’s diary from her bedroom.”
“Why do we need Mallory’s diary?”
“She wrote about her hatred for you in it—like discovering you and Tommy in bed together.”
Gemma grimaced. “I’m not sure if I wanna do this. What if I get in trouble for my affair with Tommy?”
Please. Gemma needed a good look in the mirror. She couldn’t have waited till now for realizing her relationship with Tommy might be exposed. Even a five-year-old could’ve figured out that point.
“He’s dead,” I blurted.
She shook her head. “You’re right.”
I waved the items at her. “I’m holding onto the gun, flash drive, and diary until we decide what we’re gonna do with them.”
“I can live with that.”
Phew. Gemma was smart for once in her life. Arguing about who held onto the evidence would’ve only caused problems we didn’t need. If we were gonna work together, then we couldn’t bicker.
I almost closed the safe when a manila envelope stuffed in back behind a couple necklaces caught my attention. So, I did what I always did—I inserted myself into a situation that might not have been any of my business.
“What are you doing?” Gemma asked.
“One second.” I peeked inside the manila envelope after grabbing it. There were two newspaper clippings inside, and I slid them out. Both articles were of local boys in our grade who died within the last couple years. The first guy was Parker—he was Mallory’s boyfriend before Tommy and also cheated on her. The other was Jordon—he was the boyfriend of one Mallory�
��s friends from the debate and cheated on his girlfriend like Parker had on Mallory. My jaw shook after another beat. They both died of drownings—Parker in his pool whereas Jordon died in his hot tub.
Wait. Jordon and Parker didn’t only have something in common with each other—they also shared a similarity with Tommy. Cheating.
Gemma whimpered. “What’s wrong?”
“See for yourself.” I handed Gemma the articles.
She gasped. “Are you implying what I think you are?”
“I don’t know. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“We found these in Kelly’s safe.”
“Yeah.”
“And I can only think of one reason why Kelly would have these—she was suspicious of Mallory.”
“Mallory is a lot of things, but she’s not a murderer,” I said.
Someone should’ve given me a Nobel Peace Prize—I still defended Mallory in light of everything she had done to me. Doing so was something most people wouldn’t have done. A part of me yearned for simpler times—like in middle school before Tommy ditched me for the cool kids.
“It’s kind of convenient how they were both cheaters and drowned,” Gemma said.
“Almost as if lightning struck twice.”
“Even more reason to take down Mallory—she’s a serial killer.”
My shoulders quaked. “We don’t know that.”
“Quit making excuses—you agreed to help me.”
“We should go get Mallory’s diary before her and Kelly come home,” I said.
“Agreed.”
I put the newspaper clippings back in the envelope before tucking it inside the safe by the jewelry. After that, I closed the safe.
We shuffled out of Kelly’s bedroom before darting towards Mallory’s and grabbing her diary.
Except we didn’t count on footsteps when we were ready to leave Mallory’s bedroom.
Gemma and I looked at each other.
“Bummer about the counseling appoint ending early,” Mallory bellowed. “But let me change my sweater and then we can go for pizza.”
The footsteps grew louder and louder with each passing second.
Shit. We only had a matter of seconds before Mallory caught us.
I threw a gaze towards the closet door, and Gemma nodded. Then, we rushed into the closet, making sure not to slam the door. No point in hiding if Mallory would discover us.