by Emery Skye
"Someone say my name?" Hunter calls from the bathroom. The toilet flushes.
He walks into the bedroom wearing black sweats and a navy-blue thermal that accentuates his eyes. "Ew, ever heard of washing your hands?" Beth exclaims.
He growls as he turns around. The faucet turns on a second later, then he's back in the room.
"Elizabeth, I need to talk to Alexis for a moment," he tells her. I'm taken aback by the full name-calling.
She crosses her thin arms over her well-endowed chest. She’s clad in neon-green ruffles that hardly match her lavender full-length skirt. "Uh-huh," she shakes her head and shows no intention of leaving us. I love this girl already. She's definitely loyal; plus, she's changed my clothes, covered for me and taken care of me repeatedly. If that doesn't say something, I don't know what does.
"Elizabeth," Hunter says, irritated. The vein in his neck bulges.
She looks to me, "It's fine," I assure her.
"Whatever," she jumps from the bed and glares at Hunter before leaving the room.
"Lexi," he stands across the room awkwardly. "I need you to answer my questions as honestly as you can. It's extremely important."
"You're joking. Right? You haven't answered any of my questions. You won't tell me who you are or where my brother is. You won't tell why my body healed itself. You won't explain anything to me and now I'm supposed to answer any questions you ask. That's not fair and I won't do it," I tell him defiantly.
"Lexi, this isn't a game!"
I cringe.
"You think I don't know that! It's my life, Hunter! Mine!" I look away. "I'm done talking to you, Hunter," I say with more resolve than I possess. "Until you're ready to speak with me, stay away from me. I mean it!"
"What about Chase?" he asks.
"What about him? He hasn't attacked me on campus yet and I'm sure he won't. I've been fine this long. Besides, it's not really your job to protect me," he opens his mouth to object, but I speak too quickly for him to a get a word in edgewise. "It's your job to keep Chase from killing me," I struggle with the words. "So, go do your job, kill Chase and leave me the hell alone."
I see the hurt in Hunter's eyes, but know I must be wrong. There's no way Hunter could care enough about me to be hurt by anything I say.
I hope I’m not right. I hope that Hunter does care for me, he said he does, but I know the limitedness of hope. I know that no matter how long you pray and hope for something, it doesn't change the way things really are.
"Fine," he storms across the room and out the door.
Beth walks in right after he leaves and shuts the door behind her. "Guess the talk didn't go well," she hedges.
I shake my head.
"Aw, Lexi, I'm sorry." She sits next to me on the bed. I bask in her warmth. A single tear falls to my cheek. Beth wraps her thin arms around me and strokes my hair. I let her hold me until I fall asleep.
When I wake up, Beth is running around the room in frenzy. She has one eye done up with makeup and the other not so much. Half her hair is curly, the other half is straight. She looks much older with straight hair. She's holding up a black, strapless full-length dress with peacock feathers and a shorter red dress with a willowy bodice. She notices me sitting up in the mirror.
"Thank God! You're awake," she turns, whiplash-fast toward me. "What do you think? The black or the red?" she holds two dresses up in front of herself. They're both beautiful.
"I really like the black one, but I'm sure you would look great in either."
"The red it is," she gleams. She must notice my confusion because she adds, "No offense, Lexi, but you're not the best person to ask about clothing to maximize sex appeal."
"Now we need to find you a dress," she says excitedly.
"Huh?" I choke on a sip of water.
"Oh, stop. You're coming with me tonight. I've decided you need...well, I don't know what you need. Maybe a therapist, but since we don't have one on call, I have the prescription: Fun!" She shouts the last word.
"Um...thanks, Beth...but, I--"
"Don't you dare," she interrupts. "We are going out and there's nothing you can do about it.”
I don't want to go out, but maybe she's right. All I've done for a week is mope around. Hell, all I've done this semester is mope around. It's about time I get out. Besides, Hunter might get the wrong idea if I continue to sulk in my room. He might think it's because of him... which it is. But he can't know that.
Beth watches my internal struggle with interest.
"Fine," I relent. I walk to my closet and realize, I have nothing to wear out, especially nothing in Beth's caliber of clothing.
She watches me falter. "What now?"
"I have nothing to wear," I admit.
"Oh," she seems happy about this. "I can totally help with that." She pulls me into her closet. On one side of the closet are vests, faded or torn jeans that have patchwork, flowy skirts and different types of Birkenstocks and boots. Everything is brightly colored and oversized. On the other side of the closet, I bask in the brilliance of dozens of brightly colored dresses: some are glittery and blue, red, there's snakeskin and faux fur.
"I think this one screams 'Lexi’," she makes spirit fingers.
"You're joking right?" I examine the tie-dye thigh-length dress.
She giggles. "I guess it's a little loud for you."
"A little? Think we can avoid the neon colors?"
She nods.
She pulls out another dress that I fall in love with. It's a black and blue shimmery thigh-length dress with a sweetheart neckline. It’s like something that mom would have picked for my prom dress.
Beth pulls out a pair of black heels and puts them up next to the dress. "Perfect!"
She then puts the dress up close to me and tilts her head as if in deep concentration. "Yep, perfect," she repeats.
Beth paints on my makeup sprays sticky stuff in my hair.
After about an hour, she announces she's finished and it's time to leave. I’m jumpy like I’ve drank three shots of espresso.
We make it to a slick, black BMW that she announces is hers.
"Nice car," I muse. "I thought you're a scholarship kid," I raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
She shrugs. "I am."
Once we're inside the car, I begin playing with all the different buttons. I'm pretty sure if I hit the right one, we might time travel. I've never seen so many gidgets and gadgets in a car before.
Beth notices my exploratory fingers. "Never been in a car, huh?" she mocks.
"Oh, I've been in cars. This," I gesture around me, "is something else." The black leather interior is warm against my butt and I know it's the seat-warmers. I hit another button and my seat vibrates. One of the buttons controls the sunroof, another opens a secret compartment under my seat, there's one to drop the headrest. There's no end to the buttons.
"Where are we going exactly?"
"Oh, you'll see," she smiles impishly.
I have a bad feeling in my gut, but push the acidic tang away.
"Are you ever going to tell me what is going on with you and Hunter?" Beth hedges.
"There’s nothing going on." My voice cracks.
"Sure," she says. "Do you like him?"
I'm not sure how to answer that, so I decide the truth is the best policy. "I'm not sure. He's the single most frustrating person I've ever known. I think he wears a super-thick shell to keep himself from getting hurt or from feeling anything at all. When we went to my grandma's, he was so kind and supportive," I remember the comfortable feeling of being around Hunter and realize I miss it. "He was actually a pretty nice guy, not his typical cocky, distant, prickish self."
Beth snorts, "Hunter not cocky...considerate? Interesting. You must know some sort of trick."
"What do you mean? You sound like you're talking from personal experience?"
She gives me a sidelong glance. "I have a brother who's a lot like Hunter."
" Hunter told me he cares about me," the words stumble of
f my lips before I can stop them.
"He did?" she questions, taking her eyes off the road.
"Yeah, but then, he acted like it never happened.”
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
I squint my eyes in confusion. "Brother, remember," she says. "You want my advice?"
"Sure," I answer. What could it hurt?
"Flirt with someone. Make him jealous. Guys like him will go crazy over that."
I gawk at her like she's lost her mind. She’s suggesting I play stupid games with him, but before I can say anything, she says, "Let's not talk about Hunter."
"You have a brother?"
"Yeah," she says, her eyes are eyes glued to the serpentine road.
I widen my eyes, "and?"
"He's a typical, prickish brother," she copies my word choice. "Tell me about your family? You never talk about them."
I swallow hard. That is worse than talking about Hunter.
" I'd rather not."
Her green eyes glisten with curiosity.
"Okaaayyy. What about why you don't ride anymore? The truth?"
The pearly white moon distracts me from the winding road.
I'm going to lose my friendship with Beth.
“Whoa, did you see that?” something jumps in the tree. It’s large enough that I could see it going forty-an-hour down a road, in the dark.
“Come on. Stop changing the subject,” Beth says.
I’m straining my eyes to make out the shapes in the tree line, but everything blends together in the shadows. Maybe I imagined it.
"I had a really bad experience," I tell her.
She raises her high-arched eyebrow. "I don't buy it. Every rider has bad experiences, but the true ones always get back on, that's the way it is."
I know she's right. I've broken bones, gotten concussions, contusions and never not got back on. "My horse was killed," I tell her.
"Wow, I didn't realize. By what?"
"I'm not sure," I say and realize it's the truth. I don't want to believe Chase killed my horse. I don't know if he did or not. I'm certainly not going to assume he did. I try not to assume the worst of anyone, even my vampire brother who's trying to kill me.
"I'm sorry. That's terrible.”
She wiggles in her seat.
"What is it?" I ask.
"It’s not my place.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before,” I counter. I’m smiling and so is she.
“You can't stop living ‘cause bad things happen. It's the cycle of life. Death and suffering are important to continuing the cycle," she tells me with such ease it sounds rehearsed.
"Since when are you the Buddha?" We laugh. "Seriously, though."
"I know about suffering, but I also know life is a gift," she shrugs. "Trust me."
A flurry of bright lights illuminates the sky up ahead. We're gazing at the tip-top of towering casinos. All the casinos are lit up in a myriad of different colors that contrast sharply against the backdrop of blackness created by the night.
"So sweet," she says.
"Like sin," I reply.
"Ehh, it's not bad if you don't drink or play, but what's the fun in that?"
"We’re not old enough to go into a casino," I tell her.
"Don't be naïve," she pulls two cards from her little red-pleather bag. She hands me one of the cards; it’s a fake ID.
The hint of a smile plays over her lips and I shake my head in exasperation. Poker is my game. The kids at school say there's no one who can beat me that's one of the reasons why I had to start playing against people in town. That and people in town play with more money. The students quit, said I was robbing them or that I was cheating. Poor sports.
She drives the car into the parking garage and I'm a bit surprised, I thought for sure she would use valet.
As if reading my mind, she says, "Sorry we're going to have to walk. I don't trust anyone with my baby," she strokes the black exterior of the BMW motherly. It reminds me of Hunter's love for Rover.
Beth and I start toward the elevator. She's done-up like a flapper girl from the 20’s. I can't believe the transition she's made by straightening her hair and putting on some eye shadow.
Watch out guys, jailbait right here!
We walk in like we own the place. Actually, I trip coming out of the elevator, but Beth catches me and makes it appear like I went in for a hug rather than almost face-planting.
I'm sure to everyone else the place looks like another casino, but to me, it's as foreign as a faraway country. The entire place is lit up like a freaking Christmas tree, I can't believe it's nighttime.
We're greeted by the sounds of buzzing, ringing, John Wayne singing on a nearby slot machine, the idle chatter and banter of hundreds of people who are sitting at machines, standing, walking on the red-carpeted pathway. It's quite a scene. I'm sure I'll never forget my first time in a casino.
While I'm busy gawking at the surroundings, a rent-a-cop approaches Beth and I.
"ID's please," he's a large man who makes no attempt not to hide his wandering eyes. I pull my dress at the hem uncomfortably as I use my other hand to retrieve my ID.
"Ewwy, that guy was gross," she says. "Did you see him wink?" she exaggerates a shiver in disgust.
"Yeah, it was nasty," I agree.
She interlocks an arm with mine. "That's okay. There's lots of cute boys here," she peers around the room and drags me toward a long, oval-shaped table that I believe is craps.
"I don't know how to play," I admit shyly.
"That's okay. It's easy. Do what I do."
After about an hour of copying Beth's every move, we're both up to about three hundred dollars apiece. She dances as the dealer hands each of us back our chips and then some. She's on fire as everyone around me keeps saying. I'm not the only one following her moves. Everyone at the table is. I'm having a ton of fun with Beth. She’s hooting and hollering and so am I.
A cocktail waitress brings us our beverages. This is the second water I’ve had and Beth’s second alcoholic beverage.
The flashing lights are enough to give a person a seizure. Zillions of black-domed cameras are embedded in the ceiling and a ton of TV monitors hang on the walls. Cocktail waitresses pass by, carrying trays of drinks filled with questionable alcoholic substances. The girls are dressed in short-short skirts and leather vests with an unbelievable amount of cleavage popping out. I hope none of these girls drop anything or else the casino will be putting on a Magic show titled "peek-a-boo."
About twenty minutes later, we leave the table. The whining of protesting players follows us as we walk further away. We then play blackjack for a little bit. Beth and I kill it at those tables too.
Over the span of time, many servers ask us what we would like to drink. I order soda to fend off the haunting exhaustion and Beth orders something different each time. I'll definitely be driving home tonight.
After leaving the blackjack tables, Beth announces she wants to go to a different casino. I see no reason to refuse so we start our long travel toward the doors, breaking through the masses of people who feel some irrational need to stand in the middle of the pathway. The harsh smell of cologne and smoke assaults my nostrils as we squeeze past a group of college-aged guys.
Beth wobbles more than normal and I make a mental note to cut her off for the rest of the night. We walk into the fresh air and a puff of smoke wraps around my face. I'm surrounded by drunk people and cigarette smoke.
A few guys watch Beth and me with devouring eyes.
"Where do you want to go?" I quietly ask her, hoping the guys leaning against the railing won't overhear our conversation and decide to crash the party.
"The Gates one," she says too loudly, her cheeks are flushed from the remnants of alcohol.
I want to smack her for being so loud.
I interlock arms with her and hold tight as we navigate through the clusters of drunkards.
A man with a soul patch whistles as we pass and another guy tries un
dressing Beth with his wandering eyes.
I sigh in relief once we make it out of the storm of hands, lips and eyes. Bleh.
We walk for a bit. I realize we've gone too far when we hit a dead end and are surrounded by giant rock walls.
Beth burps and giggles to cover it up. “Whoops,” she says. I roll my eyes.
"Now, now, what do we have here?" the guy from the last casino with a slinky flamboyant jacket and closely cropped brown hair says. The shadows obscure his buddies.
I swallow hard and hope fear doesn't riddle my expression.
THIRTY-FOUR
Trapped with a drunk girl and surrounded by large, drunk guys… perfect evening.
"I don't know, Mike,” he cracks his knuckles.
I wish Beth and I weren’t alone. I wish Hunter was here.
No freaking clue why Hunter's on my mind. Oh, I don't know. Maybe, because if you hadn't told him to leave, he would be here to save your dumb ass.
"Looks like these two pretty girls are lost," the red comments.
Think fast! I order my mind, but nothing happens. I want to hit myself upside the head with a baseball bat. It's eerily quiet, aside from Beth's hiccups and my rapid breathing.
The guy in the red approaches like a lion approaching his prey. We're cornered, outnumbered, and, I glance at Beth, outmaneuvered in every way.
"How did pretty girls like you get so far away from the crowd?" he slurs.
"Our boyfriends told us to meet them here," I tell him.
He raises a dubious eyebrow. "At the roadblock?" he inquires skeptically.
"Yeah, makes sense to me," I say indifferent.
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips and he cocks his head.
"You wouldn't be lying to me, little girl, now would you?" His brown eyes burn with anger.
"Um, no," I stutter and desperately try to rid my throat of the lump now impeding my breathing.
He steps close; we're standing toe-to-toe. I smell vodka lingering on his acerbic breath. He extends a hand and picks up a stray strand of hair from my shoulder. I'm paralyzed by fear.
I wish I could find the courage I had when Big Jack was being tortured by Masterson, or when those punks screwed with Doug.