by A. E. Murphy
I look at Lane’s and roll my eyes.
Lane: If you haven’t been kidnapped, you better hope you are before you get home tonight.
Scandal: Chill your heat, Lane. I’m perfectly safe, getting an education outside of school today. Not a big deal.
Stanley: We will decide what’s a big deal and what isn’t! Where are you?
Scandal: New Orleans. I’ll be home before school ends.
I switch off my phone and we three link arms. “They’ll get over it.”
“Mom asked me to pick her up this weird-ass facial ointment she gets from a voodoo shop nearby.” Alice’s family are so laid-back and forgiving.
“My mom said I’m grounded for a month but she’ll forget by tonight.”
“I turned my phone off,” I add with a shrug and they laugh.
I’m probably in a lot of trouble but it’s nice being in trouble for an actual reason, knowing when I get home it’s to people who care enough to ground me, and not a flying fist or nothing but four walls for entertainment.
We head dress shopping first before anything else and explore for an hour after trying on way too many. I have to admit it was quite fun with them and I’m excited to attend my first dance.
When we get to the store Alice’s mom mentioned, a place called Hex Authentic, I’m skeptical. It’s not that I don’t believe in gris-gris, it’s just that there are a lot of frauds out there and no proof.
When I was little, I met with a woman who called herself an oracle and told me that I had the power to forgive. I didn’t know what the fuck that meant. I was nine and really angry at the world. Still am I guess.
“This place is creepy AF,” Asher whispers in my ear, clinging to my arm as we step inside.
“Mistress Molly?” Alice whispers as the overwhelming scent of aniseed and other ingredients tickles my nose. This place is so dark. There are small, black glass bottles lining the walls, each with a label on them. “My mom sent me for some more of that youth oil stuff you sell.”
The woman behind the desk looks up and smiles. She’s so much younger than I anticipated. She can only be a few years older than me. “Come here, Alice, let me look at you, it’s been a while.”
The woman moves around the counter, bangles jingling on her wrists, hair tied back with chopsticks. She has similar piercings to my own. Sparkling green crystals against her sable skin.
“You are badass,” I say, admiring her style.
She looks up with the palest eyes I’ve ever seen and smiles with excitement. “The Girl on Fire, I’ve been expecting you.”
“How does she know who you are?” Asher squeaks, hiding behind me now.
“She does that, she knows things,” Alice replies with a shrug and I wonder if she called ahead to freak us out.
“You’re not funny, Alice,” Asher growls, likely deducting the same thing.
“You think I gave her warning?” Alice looks at us both as the woman with skin as dark as midnight circles me and Asher. “I swear I didn’t.”
I don’t believe her for a second.
“No, no, I’ve been waiting.” Molly snatches my hand and runs the point of one of her extremely long rings down my palm. It snags my skin and catches a drop of my blood.
“Hey, what the fuck?”
The woman dances away, jingling and humming to herself. She picks up a tiny black bottle and taps the tip of the ring against the opening before sticking a cork in it and shaking it.
“Drink this, it’ll help with the nightmares,” she slides the bottle my way and my heart stops when I see my name on the label. “Trust me. You’ll sleep much better.”
I lift it from the black glass surface of the counter and raise it up to the dim light.
“You have nightmares?” Alice asks, looking concerned.
I have never talked to them about it, I never talk to anyone about it and I doubt Lane or Stanley said anything. There’s no way she could have known.
I pocket the bottle and mutter my thanks. I’m freaking out right now and my palm stings a little.
Alice takes away her attention and purchases the youth oil for her mom. As soon as that’s over, we all fight for escape but Molly calls my name, my actual name.
“Mallory? Although you don’t like that, do you?”
Asher and Alice both stop with me. I turn to face the woman, peeking around a tall shelf so I can see her. “I call myself Scandal now.”
“But you don’t like that anymore either.”
I wet my lips and glance at my friends. “I really need to go.”
“When you get stuck, with your name, with… other things. Remember third is the charm.”
Doesn’t she mean third time’s the charm?
“I’ll make a note of that. Thanks.”
We run like hell, screaming and laughing because WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?
“And then she was all… Mallory… you don’t like that do you? And I was like…” I slap my hands to my cheeks. “This isn’t fucking happening.”
Presley smiles as he watches me rant about my incredible day.
“It was creepy as fuck, let me tell you.” I quickly tie my hair up in the mirror. It’s damp after my shower.
I’m grounded but it was worth every second.
“What are your nightmares about?”
I shrug my shoulders noncommittally. “This and that.”
“Is that why you set your alarm so much?”
Cringing, I turn back around and his eyes snap up from my bare legs to my face. He smiles innocently.
“That’s exactly why. Anything over an hour and I wake up screaming.”
“Are you going to test the theory?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “It’s got my blood in it.”
“So has your body. And from what you said, there’s no more than the tiniest drop. Less than if your gums bleed while you’re brushing your teeth.”
He has a point.
“Try it. I’ll stay up and wake you if you start to freak out.”
“Not tonight, not while Paisley is in my room.”
His eyes flash with mischief. “You can always stay in my room.”
I smack him with my slipper. “Behave yourself.”
My phone chimes and Carter’s name lights up on the screen. Presley sees it too and his smile fades.
I pick it up, lie on my stomach on my bed, and grin at the message.
Carter: Miss you. <3
Scandal: Miss you too. <3
“What does he want?”
“You mean your best friend since you were four?” I question, because his tone sucked. “Have you fallen out?”
“No. We don’t fall out.”
Well, that’s something, I guess. “Then why are you being weird?”
“Because you kiss him, and you don’t kiss me.”
My breath catches in my throat. I was not expecting that answer.
“Carter saw me first,” I reply lamely.
“So what? If everything was taken by the first person who saw it, nobody would ever have anything.”
I sigh heavily. “I really like Carter, Pres. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear.”
“You like me too.”
“You’re my friend, I’m duty bound to like you,” I jest.
I sit up on my knees and watch him leave my room without saying another word.
Well, shit.
My heart is racing and my eyes are stinging. He looked hurt. I don’t ever want to see him hurt again.
Scandal: FaceTime?
Carter calls me seconds later, and after checking that Paisley is still sleeping, I plug in my headphones and whisper-chat to him about my day until one in the morning. Carter is the only thing capable of taking my mind off Presley, and when I really dive into that notion of that thought, Presley is the only thing capable of taking my mind off Carter.
I think back to my day today and how we took Curlyfry to the park together, me, Lane, Stanley, and Paisley and Presley
tagged along but in the background. I watched Stanley push Paisley in the swing, and then I watched Lane bounce the seesaw with her foot because when she sat on it, Paisley almost went over her head. The joy I witnessed was something new and incredible.
I felt like I was part of something huge. I felt like I was part of a family and now I’m terrified to ever be alone again.
“Senator Newman!” Mr. Jefferson calls out to the assembly and my uncle walks out on stage.
My mind slowly shuts off, my breathing quickens, my hands grip each other on my lap so tightly my knuckles turn white.
I sit and listen to him harp on about the importance of voting in elections and why.
He’ll never have my vote.
I bet he’s going to run for president. That’s just what this country needs.
He gets the pity vote too because his son was murdered by a serial killer and he still provided for me even though they thought I was the murderer. He’s a favorite, that’s for sure. He’s a very powerful man.
I would love to take him down a peg or two, but I don’t have that kind of clout, even knowing what I know, having what I have. Even with the help of twenty-something journalists.
No. I’m not risking the life I have to try and take him down. I’ll end up in another psychiatric facility getting pumped full of sedatives, locking me in my nightmares.
When he finishes his speech, he shakes Mr. Jefferson’s hand and they both look my way. Everybody else does too. It’s no secret that I’m the senator’s niece, especially not after the fire incident. That only earned him more points with the state, and likely the country. Just what he needs, more love.
If only they knew just how fucked up he is.
Mr. Jefferson calls for me after the gathering and I have no choice but to walk with him.
When my uncle calls for me, he will be heard or the consequences aren’t pretty.
The moment the door shuts behind me, my bag is taken from me and my uncle’s guards roughly search me for wires or any kind of recording device.
“Getting paranoid, Uncle?” I ask, glaring at the man I despise with every fiber of my being.
He’s such a smarmy, tall, skinny waif of a man with dark blue eyes like mine. Thankfully that’s the only similarity we share.
He has this way about him that tells you you’re beneath him without him even uttering the words. His energy is poisonous and he is such a toxic person. He’s racist, sexist, homophobic…
He’s vile and yet there are so many he knows who are like him and he has so much power.
“I wanted to congratulate you personally on your rescue last week. You’re the talk of the state, maybe even the entire world.” He reaches for me with long fingers that hold trimmed nails. It’s the hand I bit so hard when I was thirteen that he still has the scar.
“Ah, I see, threatened that I might have a voice now that I’m a sort of hero, and tell them all about you and your tiny dirty dick?”
His nostrils flare, if there’s one thing my uncle hates, it’s having his manhood insulted. “I don’t have to warn you what will happen if you say anything. To your friends, your new family, to you.”
I chant in my head to stay strong. He can’t hurt me anymore.
But he can… It’s naïve of me to think otherwise.
“I just want to be left alone.”
“Good. And it will stay that way unless you try to discredit me with your vile lies.”
I snort and snatch my bag back from one of his henchmen. “Stay the fuck away from me and you’ll have nothing to worry about. You’re disgusting. Even more so than the rotting corpse of your beloved son.”
I inhale so sharply when my front connects with the wooden door that I start to choke. My face stings when it slaps against the smooth surface, and my body aches. His hand is tangled in my hair and I am furious at myself for letting him get the drop on me. I vowed that I never would again.
I’ve practiced and trained and watched videos on how to never let this happen but in the moment I wasn’t expecting it and here I am, at his mercy just like the good old days.
“You say I’m disgusting,” he whispers in my ear and his hand not in my hair grabs my groin over my pants. I fight back bile as his fingers press over my most sensitive part. It hurts, but the pain is welcome. Pain is life and, while I’m living, my uncle will always have something to fear. “But you forget how many times I made you cum, niece.” The ending S sound of the word is slithered into my ear like the noise of a snake. “And you forget how easily I could have you under the thumb again.”
He releases me and straightens himself. Then I take my chance and rip the door open and run as fast as my liquid legs will carry me. He got to me. I’ve spent so many days planning what I’ll say to him when I see him and he still reduces me to that terrified little girl every single time.
My body is trembling, my hands shake as I grip my bag.
I want to vomit.
I might actually vomit.
I head up to my roof for solace and clarity. Feet pounding up the stairs like my heart is pounding in my ears, my throat… my entire body is my beating heart.
I think somebody calls my name but I don’t look back, I just need air and quiet.
He touched me again and I was powerless to stop him. I got cushy, I got complacent.
The door opens and slams against the brick wall. The second it does I inhale the largest breath into my tight lungs.
I run to the edge of the rooftop, coming to a standstill on the low wall that forms a barrier. My hands cup to my mouth and I scream a myriad of cusswords at the heavens. Cunt, shit-fuck, piss-fucking-hate-you-bastard-asshole-fucking-pedophile-die. Or something along those lines.
Then I sit, letting my feet dangle over the three-story drop and I cry.
I hate him.
I hate him.
“I HATE YOOOOUUUU!” I yell, punching the top of the wall with the side of my fist.
Staring, I keep breathing, keep choking and gasping for air, letting myself calm, letting the fear linger because it’s what keeps me alive.
“You’re not going to jump, are you?” Carter asks, and my head whips round to look at him edging towards me slowly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I followed you up here, I got worried when I saw you running.” He laughs a little, still edging and I know it’s because he’s scared of heights. “I thought you were going to jump.”
My vision is blurry as I watch him draw nearer, peeking over the edge and gulping. His fear is evident all over his face but he still comes closer anyway.
“And give that prick the satisfaction? No way. I’ll live until he dies… or I do.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I can’t,” I whisper, choking on a sob as scalding tears burn trails down my cheeks.
“Come here,” he pleads, holding out his hand to me. “I’m here, but you’ve got to meet me halfway because I’m feeling really woozy right now.”
I laugh through my tears and turn away from the long drop. Standing carefully, I shuffle towards him and melt into his embrace. He’s so warm, and he smells so good.
“Your makeup is all around your eyes,” he says quietly as he hugs me and holds me like he’ll never let me go. “But it’s okay, you make an adorable panda.”
I laugh again and press my forehead to his neck. “I’m a mess, Carter. You should run away now.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He pulls back and turns away, pretending to leave but I yank him back to me.
“You’re such a dork,” I whisper and he pulls a scrunched-up tissue from his pocket, tilts my head back, and wipes the moisture away from under my eyes.
“What have you been through?” he asks quietly, still wiping at my makeup. “Talk to me.”
“Can we just kiss instead?”
Smiling, he dips his head and caresses my lips with his own.
We part for a moment and then deepen it. I hum against his mouth, lett
ing him consume me. He knows just how to do it.
“When I’m with you,” I breathe, pulling back and placing my forehead against his, “I forget about everything else.”
“Me too.”
“I promised myself when I came here that I wouldn’t get attached or make ties. I’ve never been able to rely on anybody, but your hooks are in and really we’re just kids, and I’m terrified that you’re going to walk away from me and never look back.”
“I’ll only walk if you make me.” His hand slides up my neck to my cheek, crushing the tissue against my ear.
We kiss once more and let our lips linger.
The silence sets in and rests around both of us. He hugs me, pulling my head to his shoulder and I look out over the view, clinging tightly to him as my broken heart and soul slowly knit back together in his presence.
“Do you want to see my penis now?” he asks and I laugh properly this time, no tears at all.
I bite his lip, suck it, kiss him while still giggling, and then guide him from the rooftop.
The second the door closes behind us he collapses to his knees and gags as though needing to vomit.
“Too high?” I ask, laughing when he shudders.
He’s really scared of heights.
“Come on, let’s get you to the ground floor and find you a water bottle.”
Letting me guide him, he leans on me as we make our way downstairs.
“You really need to work on that fear,” I say with a smile, awed by his bravery. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Does that mean you’ll come to dinner, meet my parents?”
I cringe. “Will they hate me?”
“Only if you hurt me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Wow,” Presley comments when I come downstairs wearing a new black dress that stops above my knee. It has a deep V and thick shoulder straps. The material is stiff but comfortable and I feel amazing.
For the first time in forever, I wear my hair down, straight to my waist. A white-blonde flow of tresses that I tuck behind my ears. My makeup is minimal in comparison to how I usually have it and I wear my sparkly piercings as opposed to the plain silver balls that I wear for school.