A Cold and Quiet Place

by Alison DeLuca

  There’s a light tap on her door, and Lily manages to grind out, “Come in.” Whoever it is tiptoes inside and closes the door. A moment later the bed dips – too much to be Vincent, not enough for Dad.

  Her mother.

  Her fingers shake on Lily’s cheek. “You know what?” Mom’s voice is blurred. “I need some work stuff, and apparently we have a few holiday parties. So. Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow?”

  The offer makes Lily open her eyes and slough off her exhaustion. She pushes up on one elbow and squints at her mom. “Really? I have practice, though. And Erica said I could come over.”

  Mom smiles, a determined and bright crescent in the dim room. “I know. But we can steal an hour in between, head to the mall, try on inappropriate shoes, have an overpriced coffee – what do you say?”

  Lily considers the little square of money from her grandfather. “Sounds good. Really good.”

  “Okay.” Mom swipes her face with one sleeve. “Bring extra clothes to practice, and we can sneak out as soon as you shower.”

  “Yeah.”

  The bed moves as Mom stands up. “I’m excited,” she says, before opening the door.

  “Me too.”

  ◆◆◆

  The wind kicks up overnight and drags in a storm with intermittent, spiteful bursts of rain. It sprays Lily as she walks up to Erica’s door. She doesn’t have a jacket since the air is hot and sodden with humidity, “an unseasonably mild Thanksgiving weekend,” the radio announcer blares joyfully.

  Mom waves good-bye from a nest of gold and pink shopping bags as Lily rings the doorbell. “Have fun! Don’t stay on your phone the whole time. Talk to people.”

  In the guts of the house, Lily hears a deep bong-bong. Erica’s mom opens the door to reveal golden oak floors lined with Turkish carpets. “Oh,” she says. “Lily. I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

  “Erica invited me…” Lily isn’t sure what to say next. She’s saved by the appearance of Erica in the foyer.

  “Okay. Well, welcome.” Mrs. Winslow smiles and waves her inside.

  “I streamed The Descent for us,” Erica whispers into Lily’s ear as they walk up to her room. “It’s so creepy.”

  Lily mutters scary movies always make Erica hide under the blankets and beg Lily to tell her what’s happening on the screen. It always ends up that way – she’s worse than Vincent. “I kinda have to keep in touch with Tyler while we hang out. Do you mind?”

  “Mind?” Erica pauses beside her room. The bears and medals they collected as kids are displayed on shelves and frames in neat rows, unlike the tangle of stuff in the corners of the dorm room at Prescot. “Of course not. He’s your boyfriend.” She plops into a leopard-print beanbag on the floor, and Lily squishes beside her. “Bet he’s still in the middle of adjusting to college.”

  “Yeah.” Lily nods. Erica’s validation makes her feel her life actually makes sense. After all, Tyler must be going through a lot of changes, not only with classes and a new swim team, but also there’s a completely new group of people he has to get to know, to work and swim with every day. Of course the Rosemont experience is making him cranky. “Yeah, you’re right.” She leans her head on Erica’s shoulder, cool in the darkened room. The air conditioner’s running, even though it’s Thanksgiving weekend.

  “Still, it’s weird. Why isn’t he hanging out with you? You’d think he’d want to be with his girlfriend for the holidays.”

  “I’m kind of on probation at the moment.” Lily drags down the corners of her mouth. She sounds like an idiot. “You know, it’s like you just said! He’s all worked up about school, and to be honest his dad is kind of a nightmare, one of those creepy survivalists, and Ty has to deal with it all. I don’t want to stress him out on top of it.”

  “I know, but…” Erica clicks her trackpad to pause The Descent. On the screen a group of actresses freeze in the act of climbing down ropes into a dark cavern. “I’m your friend. So, guess what - you’re my priority. You get stressed too, right? You’ve got problems, not just this guy. I care about you.”

  Lily considers and waves at the laptop. “Mind if I use this for a second? I want to show you what I’ve been dealing with.” When Erica raises her eyebrows and lifts her palm to signal have at it, Lily minimizes the movie screen and opens a new window. She has the URL memorized: Tumblr@LilyBatistaIsABitch.com.

  As soon as it comes up, Erica frowns and leans forward. “Oh, my God,” she says. “Oh, my God! Lily, you’ve been – holy shit. When did you find out about this?”

  “Courtney texted me the link.”

  “Are you kidding? Ugh.” Erica gasps and reaches out to grip Lily’s arm. “Oh, my God,” she repeats. “What if Courtney’s the one who high-jacked my number and sent those mean texts? We’re in a couple of classes together, so she could have stolen my phone. I think she’s all about computer programming, too. So, she could’ve hacked into my phone. If she punched her boyfriend, she’s capable of anything.”

  It doesn’t add up. “But why?” Lily flicks through the Tumblr feed. There are no new posts, just comments and reblogs on the old ones. “We hardly knew each other. I don’t think I ever talked to the girl unless we were put on the same project or whatever.”

  “I don’t know. People are freaks. Look at me - I wash my hands every five seconds. I’m surprised you put up with my nonsense.”

  Lily rolls into her, and they wrestle, trying to push each other off the beanbag. “Don’t even start.”

  Erica giggles and shoves back. After a few more scuffles she scrolls the trackpad. “Still, we should get this site taken down. Look, there’s a Report link. And, while we’re at it, you need to seriously think about your relationship with this guy. You’ve texted him at least five times since we came in here – yes, you have.”

  With a guilty start, Lily puts away her phone. Erica has it all wrong. “You just don’t understand.”

  “Lily.” Erica’s voice is soft. “Has he replied? At all? Even once?”

  The phone screen is filled with the blue bubbles of Lily’s desperation, her pleas for Tyler’s attention.

  Erica’s right. There’s no response.

  Under her cheek, the beanbag chair rustles with Styrofoam pellets. Lily reaches out a finger and closes out the Tumblr page. She can’t look at it anymore.

  On the screen, the Descent actresses continue their climb into the dark pit and laugh about how there’s only one way out once they enter the cave. They have to go through the darkness underneath to make it to the other side.

  “I just mean you should think about the situation.” Erica leans her head on Lily’s shoulder and pops open her bottle of hand sanitizer.

  “Did anything happen to Courtney?” Lily asks.

  “She doesn’t go to school anymore, if that’s what you mean. I think she was expelled.”

  “So Will’s safe from her?”

  “Well.” Erica spreads the sanitizer between her fingers, chasing invisible germs. “As safe as he ever can be, I guess.”

  ◆◆◆

  “I just drank too much vodka! I’m so sorry. Guess the holidays snuck up on me, and before you know it there was a huge turkey in my refrigerator and no other food. Thank God for Wegman’s.” Mom’s chatter blends in with the usual oldies station on her SUV, one hit wonders from decades when Lily didn’t exist: songs about tying a yellow ribbon and a horse called Wildfire.

  “Mom,” she says suddenly. “Think I should break up with Tyler?”

  The car jerks so suddenly Lily is thrown forward against the belt. “Sorry,” her mother says. “I’m so – really? You think you might break up with him? Oh, honey, I’m beyond happy. You just don’t know. It’s been a nightmare, to be honest. A very dark time. I – you’ve just made me so happy.”

  Guess the answer’s yes, Lily thinks. Even from several states away, Mom has picked up on the situation. “I didn’t say I’ll definitely do it.”

  “No, I know.” Mom reaches out
and touches Lily’s knee with one perfect, manicured hand. “Just the fact you’ve thought about it at all, though, is … oh shit.”

  They pull up into the driveway. There are two figures beside the open garage door.

  One is her dad, teeth bared in his VP of Marketing smile.

  The other is Tyler.

  16

  “Blow off practice.” Although Tyler’s breath is warm in Lily’s ear, his voice makes her shiver. “We can marathon Netflix all night and order in pizza or Chinese.”

  He’d be furious if she told him how much her stomach hurts. Hidden in the cuff of her sweatshirt, Lily digs one thumbnail into the palm of her hand. The pain keeps her grounded. Later, if she wears long sleeves, no one will see the bruises. “C’mon, Tyler.” She clears her throat. “I have to go to practice in the morning. You know how it goes – take off one day and it’s easy to keep skipping. I hate to leave you, but I gotta do it. If you know what I mean.” Please, please, please let him understand. Of course he’ll understand – he gets her. Right?

  “I forgot you were perfect. Too bad your 23-second goal is tied to your workout. Didn’t I tell you real talent is in the DNA? And, end of the day, there’s nothing you can do about it no matter how many laps you do. Swimmers like me don’t have to be boring and show up to the gym all the time.” He sucks his teeth. “God, it must suck to be a loser like you.”

  Lily wonders if Tyler’s doing as well as he says he is. It’s obvious he’s gained a few pounds. The once-elegant muscles in his arms seem softer, less defined, but he brushes it off as his version of the Freshman Fifteen. “Plus,” she adds, “my dad would never let you spend the night.”

  He sucks his teeth again and flops back against the plaid couch. They’re in her basement, the best place to watch TV. Lily freezes on the cushion next to him, afraid to say anything else. On the big screen, colored images move and blur together. There’s thwarted romance behind a series of killings, and – aliens? Lily raises her sleeved fist and, when she’s certain Tyler isn’t looking, wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. The frame of the couch shakes as he shifts to pull out his phone and tap his fingers against the screen.

  In the movie, the main character screams. She’s just found a dead body in the closet.

  “You haven’t been on Instagram for a while. Have you even seen any of my posts?” Tyler’s brows inch down over his straight nose, the kind of profile found in museums or on the back of coins.

  Lily jumps and digs out her own phone. She scrolls down his feed to Like and comment.

  Already a few others have checked in. Lily recognizes a few of the names from her Rosemont visit, including Bree. Hi cutie, she’s written. Can you come over when you get back?

  Depends on my mood. Tyler has added a few smiley emoticons.

  “What the hell is this?”

  He grabs her wrist and peers at the screen. “What?”

  “This.”

  Lily jabs at the Bree comment in answer, and his jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? It’s bad enough to date a high school student without the little petty jealousies. You just told me I can’t spend the night at your house. Ridiculous, I’m 19, and now you’re in my face about this college slut? She hooked up with my roommate, which you’re well aware of, since you enjoyed hanging out with Ben so much. Don’t even. And,” he adds as Lily opens her mouth, “I have to put up with those assholes from Prescot all up in your business. So really it’s your fault if I text another girl. Think about, if you’re not too brain-damaged.”

  She feels her mouth open in complete astonishment. “What - who are you talking about?”

  Tyler’s voice takes on a high, sarcastic tone. “Hi, I’m James, let me help you study, I’m so perfect, your boyfriend is shit, let’s go to the library and make out.” His body twists like a snake about to attack, and he grabs the remote to click off the movie in one perfect motion. He lands on top of her, and his swimmer’s thighs bracket her hips. “Is this what he did to you in the bookshelves?”

  His kiss is the climax of the attack. Lips and teeth bite her neck, jaw, cheek –not an expression of love but part of his crazy accusation. Tyler breaks away after the attack, his face unreadable in the shadowy room.

  Upstairs a door opens, and the stair lights to the basement snap on. Tyler swings off Lily and turns on the television. By the time Mom comes in with a tray of drinks and snacks, the movie is back on and he’s in his place.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Batista.” He reaches for a plate of cookies.

  “You’re welcome. It’s almost time for Tyler to go home, Lily. Getting up for practice will be impossible if you stay up any longer.”

  On the screen, the heroine is brought in for questioning at the police station. After all, the corpse has been found in her home. The logical explanation is she must be guilty.

  ◆◆◆

  Maria, Lily’s coach in New Jersey, slaps a practice sheet onto the final kickboard and stands up. “You look excited to be here.” She heads back to the tiny, glass-walled office the coaches share at the Y.

  Lily sucks in air before starting the last of her 200’s. “Last 25 of each 200 monster kick!” Maria calls from her office.

  As Lily enters the water, her arms feel like she’s wearing kettle bells. Mom slouches on the uncomfortable bleachers and looks like she doesn’t feel much better.

  At the end of the painful 200’s, Erica swims up to Lily and rests folded arms on the edge of the pool. “Ugh. I need breakfast. Want to go to the diner after this?”

  “I do, but Tyler’s in town.” Lily ducks her head under the water, ashamed of being that girl. She always said she’d never be the one who ditches her friends as soon as a guy shows up. “Uh, maybe all three of us can go out.” As soon as she says it, Lily knows it’s a bad idea.

  “Sure.” Erica gives her a bright smile and heads back into the lane.

  Lily fights her way through the rest of the practice sets. It’s one of those days where when swimming seems impossible, and the only thing getting her through is the constant voice in her head. Right now, in Sarasota or York or Wilton there’s a girl who shows up for practice. She works harder than you. She busts her ass on sets and dry land. You might have to swim against her at the next meet. Pain is temporary – victory lasts forever.

  Her legs tremble as she hauls herself over to her mother’s side and collapses on the bench. “Ow,” she says.

  “Me too.” Mom hands her a water bottle and a power bar. “Eat. Drink. Don’t faint on me, okay?”

  Lily nods and chews. The air, as usual, is chlorinated and humid. As a result, most of the parents look a little frizzy, although her mother’s French braid is smooth on her seersucker shoulder. A burst of affection runs through Lily, and she leans her head against Mom’s knee.

  “Hey! Your hair is still wet!” Her mother wiggles the thigh Lily’s using as a pillow.

  “Sorry.” A moment later Mom’s fingers stroke Lily’s thick, dark-blond strands. “Can we go out to breakfast with Erica?”

  “Sure.” Mom’s reply is immediate. “Maybe we can all go to the mall again, too.”

  “Hm. Guess I should see what Tyler wants to do first.”

  Mom’s hand in Lily’s hair pauses for a second. “Thought you were going to…” Her voice dies out. The moist air swirls around them as a group of the older, male students come in with an instructor – water aerobics. Across the room, inside the coach’s office, a phone rings. The water aerobics students splash each other in the pool.

  “Hey, Phil, last time I saw a submarine as big as your gut, we were in the Korean War,” one old man laughs.

  “Haha, you’re a funny guy. A real Bob Hope, you are.”

  In her lane, Erica reaches the end of a lap and makes a face at Lily, jerking her head in the direction of the men. Maria’s firm voice can be heard over the chaos followed by the ding of the old-fashioned phone in the coaches’ office, as she hangs up.

  The scene is familiar and safe. Lily settles against h
er mother’s shoulder, almost asleep. Across the pool, the boys in her old swim team climb out of the pool as they finish their final laps. She’s known them for years, went to their birthday parties, been asked out by a couple of them. Pete, the tall guy with tanned skin and hair bleached silver from his lifeguard job, kissed her after a successful meet a couple of years ago.

  What would her life been like if they had stayed together? She can just imagine hanging out with his large, friendly family, lifeguarding with him on the beach.

  “I’m dead.” Erica plops on the bench next to her and jerks Lily out of the hazy dream. “Totally dead. Those final laps killed me.”

  “I know. Right? Here, need water?”

  Erica waves a bottle in Lily’s face in answer. “Hi, Mrs. Batista,” she adds.

  Mom smiles and waves. “Breakfast,” she whispers, and cuts back to a long harangue about IV’s.

  “So up for the diner right now. Eggs and pancakes and bacon and waffles – I want it all.” Erica towels her hair roughly and peeks between the folds. “Uh, not the Blue Palace, though. Heard they had a rough health inspection.”

  “You are the only person I know my age who keeps up with health inspections.” Lily nudges Erica and jerks her head at the locker room. “Ready?”

  They both stand up. Mom clicks off her phone, tells them to hurry up. It’s all normal, just a regular vacation day away from Prescot. Lily knows every tile in the Y: the best water fountain, which bleachers creak when you sit down.

  Lily’s sniffs the familiar old rubber and chlorine of the pool enclosure as armor against her growing isolation at Prescot. She’s so intent on those details she nearly walks into the tall figure by the door, standing in her way with folded arms.

  He’s just as dark as Pete, but without the blond hair. The result is shadowy, mysterious – almost scary. Lily’s heart thumps quicker when she sees the glitter in his eyes.

  In front, Erica stops. “Oh. Tyler. Hi.”

  She doesn’t like him. Lily’s sees it written in every line of Erica’s body – the way she stiffens and hugs the big swim bag in her arms.