by Katie Wismer
The clock on his bedside table with glowing red numbers informs me that it’s just shy of 1:00 a.m.
Careful not to wake James, I sit up slowly and search my surroundings for my phone. I distinctly remember bringing it up here with me. When my eyes fall on the picture frame sitting on the nightstand, I freeze.
It’s a picture of James and Ashley, arms around each other, looking very happy and couple-like. I stare at the unconscious boy in the bed beside me. He seems like a nice enough guy, and if Ashley is willing to kidnap for him, there has to be something special about him. But if he’s dating Ashley, and proud enough of that fact to have pictures all over the place, why would he give me his phone number?
Could having sex really be that important to someone?
James stirs and rolls onto his side, facing me, but he’s still fast asleep.
I stare at him for a long time. I already know what I’m going to do. Maybe I’ve always known what I was coming here for, but just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I crawl back into bed beside him before I can talk myself out of it.
Ashley thinks we’re all puppets she can use for her amusement. But I’ve had it. If she thinks she can walk all over me, ruin my life, ruin my relationship, and then ditch me somewhere in the middle of the desert and walk away unscathed, she’s dead wrong. And all for a stupid boy who clearly doesn’t care about her as much as she cares about him. Maybe Jo had it right all along. I can’t let her get away with all of this. I can’t.
After slipping my phone from the nightstand, I pull up the camera.
19
I sneak back into the house around 2:00 a.m. Despite being absolutely exhausted, I don’t pass out immediately like I’d hoped. My entire body is vibrating with anticipation, and I can’t turn my brain off. It just spins in the same circle, going over the same thoughts mercilessly. I spend most of the night staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep that never comes. And then, all too soon, my alarm goes off and I roll out of bed, eyes still closed, to change into my volunteer shirt. Thankfully, I’d set a reminder on my phone about my shift today, or I would have totally forgotten. I don’t usually work at the shelter on Fridays but agreed weeks ago to come in today since we have the day off school for the long weekend.
The knowledge of what’s on my phone makes it feel like it weighs a million pounds in my pocket as I pull my car out and head toward the shelter. In the moment, taking the pictures had made perfect sense. They were a way to get back at Ashley, to show her that finally someone was giving her what she’d been dishing out for years. But now that I have the pictures, I’m not even sure what to do with them. My mind doesn’t work like Ashley’s. I wouldn’t know how to scheme and hurt people if I tried.
For now, I do nothing with the pictures. Maybe I’ll ask Johanna what to do with them later.
Besides, I have bigger problems to deal with right now. Like Ryan coming to get Squirt.
It’s still sprinkling outside, and I stare out the window as I drive, my eyes barely registering the flashes of trees, damp road, and gray mist.
Maybe since the weather is so bad, Ryan won’t come.
Maybe he changed his mind and doesn’t want her after all.
Maybe he’ll want a different dog.
Maybe he was on his way to pick her up, got caught in the storm, and crashed his car—
I freeze mid-thought, wincing. Am I really a horrible enough person that I’d wish he was in an accident solely to prevent him from adopting Squirt?
I just have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that keeps churning over and over until I can’t pay attention to anything else. There was something off about that guy. Even Squirt sensed it.
When I pull into the lot, I notice Sam’s car. My chest constricts. What is he doing here? I had four more missed calls from him last night, but I figured he’d heard by now. He must have heard by now. So then what is he doing here? Is he really going to dump me at my job?
The bells ring over the door as I step inside. Jada sits behind the front desk and grins when she sees me, but my eyes are trained on the waiting room, where Sam sits in the chair farthest from the door.
He stands as soon as he sees me and starts walking forward. I turn away before he can speak and focus on Jada. “Is the man who was interested in Squirt still coming today?”
Jada sighs and gives me a sympathetic smile. “He is.”
“And you finished his background check?”
Her brow furrows a little. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t find anything?”
“Was I supposed to?” Jada’s eyes flicker from me to Sam, who is now standing at my side. “I know how much you love that dog, and how difficult this must be for you, but we should be glad. That dog deserves a home. A real home.”
“I know,” I say, almost defensively. I want Squirt to have that, I do. I just want her to have it with someone other than that man. Preferably with me, but if that’s not possible, at least with someone who doesn’t scare her into cowering behind my legs.
She just smiles sadly at me again. “Why don’t you two feed the dogs before he shows up?”
Now I have to look at Sam. I brace myself for what surely will be hatred on his face, but when I finally turn and see him, he just looks confused.
We head to the back, and the moment we round the corner, Sam gently takes my arm and pulls me to a stop.
“You’ve got to tell me what’s going on,” he says.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. “I’ve gotta get them fed before Ryan shows—”
“You’ve been ignoring my calls and Johanna’s. Yeah, she called me,” he says to my surprised expression. “Because she was worried about you, just like I am. Did something happen? What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in days.”
I search his face for some hint that he knows, but there’s nothing. There’s no anger or suspicion. It really is just concern. He doesn’t know about the pact. About Ashley’s kidnapping.
He doesn’t know about last night.
He doesn’t know about…anything.
Maybe I should feel relieved, but all I feel is like throwing up.
“Can we talk about this later?” I mumble.
His gaze sweeps over my face a few times before he nods. “But we will talk about it.”
Once we get the dogs fed, surrounded by their cages and the happy noises of them devouring their meals, I sink into the chair propped against the far wall, my eyes trained on Squirt’s cage.
“More differential equations?” Sam asks, leaning against the counter in the center of the room.
“I’m just worried about Squirt.”
“But Jada said she didn’t find anything concerning about the guy adopting her, right?”
I shake my head, frowning, and hug my arms to my stomach. “I just have a really bad feeling about it.”
Just as the words leave my lips, the bells above the front door chime. My stomach drops to my feet. The faint sound of Jada’s voice leaks back into the room, and after a few minutes, she and Ryan appear through the door.
Just like before, everything about Ryan’s presence is dark.
I can’t decide if it’s just my own paranoia. If I’m the only one who notices the air leave the room when he enters; if I’m the only one who gets shivers down my spine at the sight of his eyes. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with him; maybe there’s just something wrong with me. But I know I’ll never forgive myself if I let that man walk out the door with Squirt and something happens to her.
Sam stands at my side now, his hand on my back. I can feel his gaze on my face, but I can’t look at him. I’m far too occupied tracing the decreasing distance between Ryan and Squirt. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Squirt has already finished her dinner, and now sits in the back of her cage, watching Ryan warily.
Jada moves toward the cage to take her out, a leash in her hand—one of the red ones we only use when people adopt an animal. I feel
like I just swallowed something sour, and it’s now eating away at my insides like acid. I want so badly to step in, to tell Jada to stop, wait, please—
“Wait.”
Jada freezes in front of Squirt’s cage. Ryan’s sharp gaze cuts to where Sam and I stand.
Sam is now a step ahead of me, his hand raised. “Wait,” he repeats.
“Sam?” I breathe.
“Is everything all right, Sam?” Jada asks.
He shakes his head, slowly, presses his lips together, and lowers his hand. “I—I’ll pay you double whatever he offered for Squirt.”
My heart stops in my chest.
I look pleadingly at Jada. Her gaze flickers from Sam to Ryan to me. “He has already filled out all of the necessary paperwork. Squirt belongs—”
“I’ll pay you triple,” Sam says and turns to Ryan. “And I’ll pay you whatever you would have paid for her.”
Ryan stands stock still, his face that disturbing expressionless mask again. There’s a forced calmness in his demeanor, in the way he regards Sam before turning back to Jada. He flashes what I assume is meant to be a charming smile. “I’m not interested in getting paid. I only want the dog.”
Jada sighs, her hand resting on the cage. Squirt, oblivious to the rising tension in the room, licks her fingers through the bars. “I’m sorry, Sam, Mare.” She unlocks the cage, brings Squirt to her chest, attaches the red leash to her collar, and walks her over to Ryan.
“But—” Sam starts.
I rest a hand on his arm. “It’s okay.” It feels very far from okay, but I swallow my paranoia and doubts and anxiety and nod at Ryan. “Just please take good care of her.”
“Let’s go finish up your paperwork and payment at the desk,” says Jada.
Ryan gives me a swift nod and follows Jada into the hall. My eyes linger on Squirt, and she watches me over Ryan’s shoulder until they round the corner and disappear from view.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say quietly to Sam. “But thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I admit, leaning into his chest, enjoying what may possibly be the last time he’s willing to be this close to me. I could go on pretending that nothing happened. I could keep seeing Sam, always terrified and waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he deserves better than that. Hell, I deserve better than that. I sniff, swallowing back the tears, and wipe the few that managed to squeeze out from my cheeks. “Sam, we need to talk.”
20
Once my shift is over, Sam and I head outside. It’s still drizzling, but I don’t mind. I kind of like it. The cold water stings as it hits my arms, but I need it right now. I need something to distract me from what I’m about to tell Sam.
He shields his eyes from the rain. “Do you want to get in the car—?”
“No,” I respond a little too quickly. Sam looks slightly taken aback. “I just mean, I need the fresh air,” I explain.
He nods, but the severe expression on his face doesn’t let up. It isn’t anger, exactly. But it sure as hell isn’t happy. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
I close my eyes and let out a slow breath. “You’re going to hate me when I tell you.”
“Mare, there is nothing you can say to me right now that will make me hate you. I’m just worried, okay? Is this about me? Am I not taking a hint or something?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” I assure him. “It has nothing to do with you, I swear. I was dodging everyone’s calls.”
“But why? I haven’t heard from you in days. You just disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Staring at his face, I realize that as much as I don’t want him to know about the pact, I don’t want to lie to him more.
So I tell him. We stand there, dripping wet and shaking from the cold, and I tell him about the pact, and Ashley, and the volunteer list. About the photocopies around school, and the way my teachers couldn’t look me in the eyes. I tell him about Harper and the girls in the locker room, and how angry she was with me when she found out about the pact. I tell him about Ashley kidnapping me and leaving me in the middle of nowhere.
But I don’t tell him about James. I can’t.
Because I’d only done it thinking Sam and I were already done. And if my entire life was going to crash and burn anyway, I figured I might as well take Ashley down with me. But now, looking at Sam’s face, the logic feels like two puzzle pieces that just won’t quite fit together.
He waits quietly until I’m finished. When I glance up, he’s staring at me, his eyebrows drawn.
“Saying it out loud, I know how stupid it sounds—”
“It doesn’t sound stupid,” he says quietly. He shakes his head several times, but now he won’t look at me. His gaze is trained on the mountains somewhere behind my head.
“Please say something.”
“I’m a little thrown,” he admits. “I’m just trying to understand.” He takes a step back, and then another, putting more and more distance between us. I want to reach out for him, beg him to stop moving away, but then he turns and starts walking in the opposite direction.
“Sam?” My voice breaks.
He stops walking and puts his hands on his hips, but he doesn’t turn around. “This pact you have with Johanna,” he calls, still facing away from me. “Is that what we are?”
“No!” I rub my hands against my arms, bringing warmth back to them. “I mean, that’s what it started as. It’s the reason I managed to pluck up the courage and talk to you that first day, but almost the second I started to get to know you again, it stopped being about that. Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about the pact in weeks until I saw in on my locker. It hasn’t been about that in a long time, I promise.”
He still doesn’t turn around. All I want is for him to turn around.
“Sam?”
“Just let me see if I have this straight. You and Johanna signed a pact. This Ashley girl got her hands on it and plastered it all over the school. Then she essentially kidnapped you and deserted you in the middle of nowhere. And instead of telling anyone or asking for help, you cut off everyone who cares about you and chose to deal with all of this on your own?”
“Sam—”
Finally, he turns. “I just need some time to think. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the rain.
He lifts his gaze to meet mine, just for a second, before turning and slipping into his car. I wrap my arms around myself as he pulls out and stand there, the rain dripping down my face, staring at the place his brake lights were long after he leaves the parking lot, before finally forcing myself to move and get inside my car.
I stare straight ahead for several beats, my eyes unfocused. At some point, I must have started crying, because I feel the tears dripping from my jaw. I fish my phone out of my pocket and rest my forehead against the steering wheel as I bring it to my ear.
Johanna answers on the first ring.
“She’s aliiiiive!”
“Jo?” I sniffle and wipe a mixture of rain and tears from my face.
“Yo, what’s happening? What’s wrong? Are you crying? Mare, what happened?”
“Can I come over? I could really use a friend right now.”
“Of course! What’s going on?”
I press my forehead against the steering wheel and close my eyes. “I did something stupid, Jo,” I whisper. “Something really stupid. And I think I just ruined everything.”
✦✦✦
Jo’s front door swings open before I even make it out of the car. She’s barefoot and in workout attire, but she comes sprinting toward me across the crushed rock driveway just the same. I barely manage to open the door before she throws her arms around me and yanks me out of the car.
She squeezes me tight. “You’re my best friend in the world and I love you forever, no matter what. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Jo. I know.”
“Okay.” She squeezes me again before pulling away. “Let’s go inside.”
We end up in her bedroom, in the exact places where we signed that contract so many nights ago. She sits in her bubble chair and spins around and around like she always does.
“So, I’m guessing Sam found out,” she says.
I flop back onto her bed and stare up at the ceiling. “He said he ‘needs time to think.’”
“Fuck him,” Johanna says lightheartedly and nudges my knee with her toe. “I’m sure it’ll turn out fine, Mare.”
I groan and throw my arms over my face. “He doesn’t even know the worst of it, Jo.”
I feel the bed shift and she jumps in beside me. “The worst of it? Is this the terrible, terrible thing you were telling me about on the phone?” Her tone is teasing, but when I don’t smile, she stops wiggling around. “What happened?” she asks.
I peek one eye out to look at her. “I sort of…did something last night.”
“Did something or someone?” she jokes.
I wince.
“Oh my God! Did you do someone?”
“No. I mean, almost. But we stopped, okay? Nothing happened.”
“Okay, up. Up, up, up.” She pulls on my arms until I sit up. “Spill. I want every detail. Does Sam know? Is that why he’s mad?”
“He isn’t mad.” I keep saying that, but honestly I’m not sure. Maybe he was angrier than he let on. “And no, he doesn’t know.”
She scrunches her nose in confusion. “Okay, so, what happened then?”
I flop over and hit the bed face first.
“Tell me,” she whines.
I fish my phone out of my pocket, find the first of the pictures, and hand it to her.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and then silence. “Mare,” she says in an overly calm voice. “Why. The hell. Do you have pictures of you in bed with Ashley Miller’s boyfriend? Shit, has she seen these?”