Pixie set her sandwich down and hugged me and then Austin. “You guys did great tonight. That’s so awesome,” she said.
There was a part of her sincerity that I could almost see through. “We’re going to make it so you can come, too. Even if you’re living with me. That’s the deal I want. And I might be in a position to ask for it.”
Austin caught my eye and scratched his neck. He wasn’t so sure that was the case. I was determined, though. Even if the college representatives tried to steer me away from talking about Pixie. One even had the gall to tell me that teenage romance hardly ever lasted. They didn’t know how it was with Pixie and me.
“When do you leave? Can Mike and Ronna come?” Pixie picked up her sandwich and took a small nibble.
“Well, Friday during the day. We can be back by nighttime. Ronna and Mike can’t come, and I need to have an adult representative with me because I’m seventeen. Austin said he’d come. So we will leave then. When do you want to pack your bag?” I leaned toward her and moved her hair behind her ear.
She leaned into my hand and closed her eyes briefly. “I have to stay here. I have a few things I want to look into about colleges and stuff. I think I need to get out of this city, you know?”
Austin grabbed our plates and excused himself. We’d talked on the way home about how we’d be approach Pixie. I wasn’t sure it needed to happen tonight because I had no real plan other than we were not separating. That was the only reality I’d accept.
“Aren’t you going to come with me? I mean, right?” I touched her arm and rubbed her soft skin. She covered my hand with hers.
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll be where you are. I’m going to look into both of those places and see if it’s too late to apply for a scholarship or something. My lack of income must fall in a good zone for getting some help. You and Austin go to see the schools, make a choice, and then let me know where we’re headed when you get back.” She smiled at me and touched my hand.
Something was wrong. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but it seemed like she had something else on her mind.
Instead of trying to force it out of her, I wanted to give her space and time.
I hoped it wasn’t the wrong choice.
Chapter 69
Pixie
THEY WERE LEAVING, and I knew that Gaze was concerned. We knew each other too well to hide emotions from each other. I’d kept my run-in with Bic to myself. I’d eavesdropped a few more times when I was alone in Gaze’s room, and fortuitously, Bic’s big, stupid voice and Dreama’s shrill pierced through the space between the buildings like a well-placed arrow.
Bic had to talk to a lawyer about the insurance payout and the continued social security checks. Dreama mentioned that she was getting her nails done. It’d coincide with Gaze being out of the apartment.
After I ushered Gaze and Austin out of the door, I had the place to myself. I was able to spy while preparing myself to go across the ramp.
It was a shitty idea, I understood that. But the ramp had served its purpose many times over the years.
After I heard the door to my old apartment close, I tossed an empty backpack on my shoulders and stuck my phone into my pocket. I’d put a lot of thought into how to get across the ramp. Running would be a poor choice. Five stories up was a real courage tester. I knew just how far down the fall was from all those ball games Gaze and I played together. I also remembered the last time I crossed it—to save Gaze. Well, this time, I was saving myself.
I knew Gaze was worried about what would happen to me after high school. And the truth was, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Most likely follow in my mother’s footsteps and work a job or three to make ends meet.
I pushed open the window all the way and sat on the windowpane with my feet dangling. The ramp seemed far skinnier than I remembered. Flimsy, too. It was metal, sure, but old metal had a certain patina that made it seem fragile. Eggshell-like.
I stretched my right foot out and pressed down. Sturdy feeling. I did the same with the left. I turned my body so I could still hang on to the sill. Was there always so much wind whipping through the alley? We were crazy then. I was crazy now.
I took a deep breath and held it as I let go of the sill. Still okay. I turned slowly. I was there, teetering on this metal ramp Gaze and I thought was a good idea when we were twelve. I put my arms out to help me balance. It wasn’t a far scramble. But my legs felt way longer, harder to balance on—the risk super real. I heard the wind whistle from down below, but I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. I kept my eyes fixed on the prize. My old window. When I got to the center of the ramp, it started to bow inwards and get a little bounce to it with every step. I knew then if I made it all the way across, I’d be walking out the front door, not climbing back the way I came. Two more feet. One more foot. I grabbed the sill of my old window. It’d never had a lock. It didn’t need one. It wasn’t near the fire escape, and the building was so old, these kinds of things were just not done. But I had a sinking feeling that maybe Bic did something, like add a lock or something, but I was still able to push the window open.
I scrambled into my room, thinking about being back here in this place that had been so evil but loving the firm floor under me. It smelled awful in here. When my eyes pricked with tears, I realized I wanted to remember something of my mom. Instead, it smelled like old onions and sweat.
My old room was a catch-all for crap now. I was overwhelmed by the accumulation of stuff. Trash, clothes. Dreama and Bic were absolute pigs. After screaming silently, I tried to calm myself. I had to make the most of my time here.Focus, think, and find what I needed. I wanted whatever Bic had from my mom. I wanted to destroy any other paperwork that I found that helped them. And dammit, if there was time, and the internal “oh shit” meter I was currently using to make my decisions wasn’t going off, I wanted to see if I had left anything of Mom’s. Maybe a few pictures. A video or something.
I knew that Mom and I had kept the important papers in the living room, in the drawers of the desk we found in the trash one day long before Bic. We’d carried it all the way up five floors by ourselves and eventually painted it. I pulled open the door and revealed the drawers and touched our signatures in paint there. I took out my phone and snapped a picture. I couldn’t take the desk, but the image was mine now. It started a frenzy. I rushed around the apartment, flinging open cabinets and closets to see if I could find any more traces of Mom. An old magnet calendar was on the side of the fridge. I flipped through it. It had Mom’s handwriting marking mundane chores, but also birthday celebrations with little balloons scrawled to make the day seem special.
Back to the desk, I pulled open the drawer, and at first, I thought I had the wrong impulse. All I saw were piles and piles of takeout menus. But then farther down, I found the file folders Mom had set up and I had learned to do the bills with. The last folder in the stack was important information. It had social security cards and my birth certificate in it. And then, behind all that, an envelope I had never messed with. It was titled My Will. I jammed it and all the other papers that were mine into my backpack. I didn’t think this was what Bic had been trying to lure me upstairs with. But my internal alarm was starting to sound. Heart pounding, palms getting clammy. I was just being paranoid, because surely a trip to the lawyer’s office would take longer than the time I’d been here sneaking around.
I rushed to the folding table that was placed by the front door to collect random stuff and hold keys. It was still doing the same job, just holding overwhelmingly more things. I rifled through the papers and junk mail. Nothing of note. Some of it spilled to the floor. Just as it hit the wood, I heard what sounded like the tiniest baby cry.
I froze, stock-still, and waited to see if I heard it again. And there it was again. I peeked under the table. Nothing.
I heard it again. It actually sounded more like a high-pitched kitten meow. I followed the noise to the small linen closet. After I opened the door, a little striped furball tum
bled out. His wide open mouth had sharp-looking baby teeth. His green eyes took up his whole face practically. I noticed the setup that Bic and Dreama had—just a cereal box with some newspaper in it as a litter box and an empty can of tuna.
I reached down and scooped up the kitten. He wouldn’t have it any other way anyway because he was climbing up my leg.
He kept headbutting me and making his claws go in and out by my neck. I was going to steal this little guy. Screw Bic and Dreama and their asshole version of pet ownership.
I put him into my backpack with my other papers.
The thing my mom wanted to show me wasn’t lying out. Hell, Bic might have had it with him at the lawyer’s office.
The lawyer. To discuss the will and stuff. Without the will that I had pulled out of the important stuff file.
My stomach sank to my feet. Maybe he’d been lying to Dreama about where he was going. Which meant he could be home any second.
I took one last glance around and then opened the door to leave. Just as I did, I heard heavy footfalls on the stairwell.
Bic.
Bic walked that way. I knew the terror of the cadence of his footsteps in my very DNA. After closing the door, I kept my eyes on it as I backed up. There was only one way out. The window. Across the ramp again.
I had to do it. The little kitten meowed from inside my backpack. As I hurried into my old room, I felt the change in the space, the open gap of the door.
“What the fuck is going on here? Dreama? You throwing shit around again?”
The kitten meowed.
“I told you to get rid of that damn cat. I’ll drown it in the kitchen sink. No pets. I’m allergic.”
I had no door to close. He’d see me if I crossed to the window now.
My old room was hopefully the last place he would check. It seemed like they must not use it that much.
I straddled the windowsill and had my left foot on the ramp when I was yanked back into the apartment and tossed to the floor.
“Pixie Rae. You came crawling back to me. I knew you would.” Bic’s evil mouth pulled around his yellowing teeth. “Now, how did you sneak back in? That’s a question for another day. But today is day one of you moving back in with me. We’re a family again.”
He took a step toward me. In my soul, I knew I wasn’t done with this man yet. Why I had to face him again, I didn’t know.
“You’re never leaving this place. So you know.” Bic leaned down and grabbed my arms, pulling me from the floor.
“You can’t keep me here. Gaze will come looking for me. This is kidnapping.” I struggled against him, but he knew just how to grab me to force my compliance. I hated him. I hated his touch.
“Your own father can not kidnap you.” He pushed me into the bathroom and closed the door, with him on the other side.
The door swung out, so I pushed to open it. It didn’t budge. I slid my backpack off to check on the kitten. I ran my hands over his little body.I didn’t find anything that seemed out of place on him, so my hope was that he was not injured in the scuffle Bic and I had been in.
I cuddled the kitten under my chin, and he made tiny purring noises. My mind peeled away from the edges of my skull. I couldn’t be here. I was out. I was out. I was safe. This is not where my body was. I could put myself anywhere. I wouldn’t be here. I was safe. I was safe.
Bic bellowed with laughter on the other side.
“There, now you’re fucking in there. Don’t hurt yoursef banging on this. I dragged the TV stand in front of the door.”
The TV stand was about four thousand pounds. Okay, not really, but it stayed where the movers had put it because Mom and I could never figure out a way to shove it anywhere else. I tried the door one-handed. Bic for sure had put something heavy behind it.
I couldn’t let myself spiral. This was not going to happen to me. I had no idea if Gaze was back yet. Gaze.
My phone. I pulled out my phone and sent a text message. I need you to come home.
I wasn’t going to serve Bic again. Being free of Bic made me realize that being with him was never ever a choice I’d make.
I started to inspect the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet, which was mostly barren. Any bathroom supplies they had were strewn on the countertop. I saw some candles around the tub. Dreama must like treating herself to a spa moment in the tiny tub. There had to be a way to light the candles in here. I rustled through the drawers.
“What the hell are you doing in there?”
I ignored him. I needed to get out. My soul was screaming at me. Seering me. Out! I had to listen to the voice inside me. I found a lighter hidden behind the biggest candle. I prayed that it was not too wet from the shower. I flicked it once, then twice. It flared with a small orange flame.
I eyed the smoke detector. Years before Bic, the building had a small fire in the basement. The people who owned the building had to install an insane amount of fire detectors to be able to continue to keep the building open. Rumor was, these detectors were hardwired to the fire department. It was the only way that the building was allowed to continue to house people.
Mom used to warn me all the time, if I burned dinner, the smoke detector was rigged to sprinklers and the fire department. The landlord had told everyone that if they ever had him call the fire department again, he would evict them. It probably wasn’t an actual legal threat, but having an apartment we could afford came with sacrifices. Including our dick of a landlord.
I was counting on that lore now. I needed to get out.
I put the kitten carefully back into my bag, then put it on my shoulders. I took a few pieces of a fashion magazine on the toilet tank and lit them up. I stood on the toilet and held the flame under the detector. The plastic started to melt, but still nothing happened.
I had to drop the paper before it got to my fingers. I grabbed a roll of toilet paper, and that went up much quicker and made far more smoke.
I prayed to my mother, “Let this work. Let this work.”
And then the ear-shattering alarm pulsed through the apartment. I heard the corresponding alarms around the building echo the noise.
“You little bitch.” I heard Bic exclaim and the dragging sound from the other side was giving me hope. When he opened the door, I’d take off running. Whether it’s the front door, the fire escape, or the ramp, I was getting out.
He dwarfed the doorway after he swung it open. I dropped the toilet paper into the trash can.
“What the hell?”
I tried to run around him, but he grabbed my arm again. I gasped at his face as smoke billowed out around me. “The cops are coming, and so is the fire department. This place is shit, but the smoke detectors are top-of-the-line. My mother taught me that.”
I pulled on my arm to try to get away.
“Your mother was a bitch.” He snarled at me.
I leaned down and bit his hand as hard as I could. He let go of me, but then backhanded me across the face.
I stumbled into the doorframe and then into the hallway. The bathroom was orange and glowing.
“You stupid little shit. You’re gonna burn this whole place down.” Bic turned to the fire and I heard the water crank on in the tub.
Now was my moment. I had to run.
Bic had blocked my way into the living room with the TV stand. I didn’t want to mess with the fire escape, because I was pretty sure his bed blocked it. The quickest way out was my old window. I half-crawled, half-ran to the window that was still open. I didn’t let fear strike my heart this time. Instead, I was trying to escape. Before I could set both feet down, an explosion rocked the building. I turned to see a fireball rush down the hallway.
All the trash and crap that they had lying around fed the fire almost instantly. I heard Bic scream in pain.
The sirens in the distance bounced off the buildings. I stepped onto the ramp and started across.
When I was in the middle, I felt the ramp groan under my weight.
“You fucking as
shole. How dare you?” Bic was on the ramp with me. I didn’t have to turn around to look. I could feel the added weight and his hate hit my back.
This was it. This was how I was going to die. I had a second of peace, because I was free. I had run. I was not in his control.
And then I tried to run the rest of the way. The ramp snapped and I began to fall. I saw Gaze’s horror-struck face as I started to scream.
Chapter 70
GAZE
WE ONLY SAW one college. The closest one because I had a nagging feeling. It was one I tried to ignore because this was such a big weekend for me. Austin was with me, illegally helping the Burathons tour the college via FaceTime. I didn’t ask the questions I wanted to. I wanted to get home. I wanted to get to Pixie. What started out as an uneasy feeling just grew and grew until I was absolutely thrumming with the stress of it.
Austin looked me up and down, told Ronna and Mike we would reschedule, and jammed me into his car to go home. I kept trying to call Pixie and her phone unfailingly went to voicemail every time.
My stress had even spread to Austin. “Should we call someone to check on her? Is your dad around?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I mean, he might, but he won’t be in any shape to help. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe she took a nap?”
Austin adjusted his rearview mirror and accelerated a little more, going over the speed limit.
“She’s not really a nap kind of person.” He changed lanes to go around a slower driver.
“Yeah. I don’t know. I feel like she wasn’t telling me something. And we just tell each other everything, you know?”
“I know. I hear you two chatting every damn night.” He was trying to lighten the mood, but all I could do was tap my fingers on the dashboard and redial Pixie’s number.
By the time we got to the apartment, I didn’t have to tell Austin to leave me at the door of our place. He just did it.
Drowning in Stars Page 28