This Sweet Escape

by J. Evans

  “I’m not, I just…” She brushes her sleeve across her lips hard enough for the fabric of her fleece hoodie to rasp as it drags across her skin. “It’s nothing. I just need get the taste out of my mouth. I’ll brush my teeth as soon as we get there. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

  I want to believe her, but my gut tells me nothing is fine and maybe the fates are still against us, after all.

  Chapter Six

  One Week Earlier

  Sam

  “We are all the fools of time and terror: Days

  Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live,

  Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.”

  -Lord Byron

  “So you think I can finish in one more semester?” I pluck at the pilling fabric on the upholstered chair in my advisor’s cramped office, where stacks of hardcover books on mathematical theory war for space with his wide collection of antique beer steins.

  The first time I’d met with Mr. Thompson freshman year, I’d thought his office was depressing, but now I can appreciate the cozy safeness of his tiny room on the third floor of the business school building. It might not be much, but it was all his, and it had a door he could close and lock tight when he wanted to shut out the world. It sounded like a slice of paradise and was all I wanted for the rest of my college career—a space of my own, and to spend as little time with the rest of the student body as possible.

  “You could, but you’d have to carry twenty credits,” Mr. Thompson says, squinting at his computer screen before dipping his chin to make a note on the printouts in front of him. “And two of the classes you need aren’t available online until the spring semester.”

  My fingers dig into the seat, my nails scratching along the rough fabric. “But if I spread my classes out over two semesters I can do everything online?”

  “I think so,” he says. “Just let me check a couple of things to be sure.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I say, knee jogging as I wait for him to finish mapping out my educational plan for the next twelve months.

  Behind his bowed, bald head, I have a sliver-sized view of the campus quad through his narrow window. Outside, the rest of the student body is celebrating the end of finals with picnics, sunbathing, and an impromptu game of ultimate Frisbee. Everyone is smiling, laughing, and looking so relaxed and happy you’d think the semester had been nothing but smooth sailing and we hadn’t spent the last five months weathering the worst scandal Sterling University has ever known. You’d think no one had posted nightmarish videos on the campus website on New Year’s Eve, no one had started dangerous rumors, and no one had hung themselves from the ceiling in their dorm room two days before Spring Break.

  You’d think we were one big happy family, but I know better. There are monsters on this campus, and I can’t get away from SU, or out of L.A. fast enough. As soon as I have my schedule in hand, I’m gone and I’m never coming back. I’ll finish the rest of my classes online from the safety of my own apartment somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where no one knows me, and nothing reminds me of all the mistakes I’ve made.

  “All right, Miss Sammy, here is what I’ve got for you.” Mr. Thompson pushes two sheets of paper across the desk and proceeds to walk me through the classes I’ll need to complete my degree in business management consulting. “You’ll just have to talk to Professor Graham about the mid-term and final for Advanced Management Practicum. I know he prefers to have students come into the classroom to take those, but he’s a flexible guy. If you swing by his office to explain why you won’t be able to make it back to campus, I’m sure he’ll be happy to work with you.”

  “Thank you so much.” My breath rushes out as a wave of relief spreads through my chest. “I really appreciate this Mr. Thompson.”

  “Glad I could help.” His wide smile makes his graying moustache look bushier than usual. “I’m sorry to see you go, but it’s good to see people taking care of family. I’m sure your grandmother will appreciate the help.”

  I nod, but keep my eyes on my schedule as I fold the small stack of papers and tuck them into my purse. I shake Mr. Thompson’s hand goodbye, and head out of the office, heart racing. I’m almost home free, so close to making the escape I’ve been craving for months I can taste it on my tongue, sweet and bright like the lemon-flavored shave ice I couldn’t get enough of as a kid.

  I know I should feel bad about lying to my advisor and creating a fake sick grandma who needs help running her chain of restaurants, but I don’t. The fib is going to buy my freedom, and it’s not the kind of lie that could lead to someone getting hurt. It’s a victimless falsehood, not like the other one. By the time I leave L.A. tonight, that other lie will have cost me everything that matters. But that’s only right. A life for a life. Only I’ll have a chance to start over, to rise from the ashes, instead of having what’s left of me scattered on a beach in Malibu.

  There’s just one thing left to do before I can make my escape…

  As I step out into the sun and start across the grass to the parking lot on the far side of the quad, I tug my phone from my purse, scrolling through my contacts until Danny’s name pops up.

  Just looking at it is enough to make me feel like I’ve swallowed an egg whole. So far, none of the ties I’ve severed have hurt me, at least not enough to make an impression compared to the misery that has shadowed me for months. But breaking up with Danny is going to hurt like hell, and the logical part of me knows ending our relationship now is like cutting off my leg the night before a big race. Danny is the person I turn to when things get tough, and things have never been tougher than they are right now. I should be running to him as fast as I can, not running away.

  But I love him too much to force him to share this load. He’s done nothing to deserve it, and I refuse to let my selfishness ruin his life the way it’s ruined mine.

  I’m stepping into the shade of the maple tree in front of the science building, hoping making this call in public will keep me from falling apart the way I know I will if I’m at home alone, when a familiar voice calls my name.

  With a curse, I shove my phone back into my purse, grit my jaw, and brace myself for another run-in with my least favorite person.

  I’m sure most people would say I should hate his friends more, but Alec is the one who was supposed to have my back, or at least not hold a neon sign over my head letting trouble know where to find me. Instead, my stepbrother stuck his nose into my private business, and issued the misery of the past year a hand-written invitation, and I hate him for it.

  I hate him so much I have to fight the urge to spit in his handsome face every time our paths cross on the way to class.

  “What do you want?” I ask as he steps into the shade. “I thought we agreed to leave each other alone.”

  “No, I agreed to keep everyone quiet,” Alec says, anger in his dark brown eyes, eyes the same color as his cheesy designer polo shirt with the fern embroidered on the right side. “But that’s over. The arraignment was this morning. The grand jury didn’t dismiss the charges the way the lawyers thought they would.”

  “What?” I ask, my brain refusing to make sense of the words. “But I thought there was no way the—”

  “That’s what everyone thought.” He runs a clawed hand through his brown hair, but it falls immediately back into place, because that’s what happens when you pay three hundred dollars for a haircut. “But it turned out Deidre being dead made it worse for our case, not better. Now there’s going to be a trial at the end of June, and we can’t afford to fuck around. I gave my new statement a couple of hours ago and the others are down at the police station right now. They’re telling Detective Spanuth everything, the complete truth.”

  “The truth.” A sharp bark of laughter escapes my lips despite the panic tightening my throat. “I can’t believe you can say that with a straight face.”

  “I’m not going to have this argument again,” Alec says with a frustration that would make a person think we’d had t
he same fight a thousand times, instead of once, on the sidewalk outside his stupid frat house. “I just thought you should know you’ll be getting a subpoena soon, and a call from the police. They’ll want to talk to you before the trial. Hear your side of the story.”

  “It’s not my side.” I pace across the grass, heart slamming in my chest and fear banishing the taste of freedom from my mouth. “It’s what happened.”

  “Fine.” Alec’s tone is sharp enough to make me flinch. “Tell them whatever you want, as long as you tell the truth about Deidre. None of us did anything to her. You’re the reason she’s dead. Todd and—”

  “Don’t say their fucking names,” I shout, turning the heads of three girls lying out on a quilt at the edge of the lawn. They’re all wearing bikini tops and cut off shorts, and don’t seem to care that every boy crossing the quad stops to drool on his way by.

  I’ve never been that kind of girl. I grew up in the water, but while the rest of my friends embraced itty-bitty bikinis, I stuck with the same, full-coverage two-pieces I’d worn as a kid. I didn’t like to worry about my top falling off when I wiped out on a wave and I’ve never been interested in flaunting my body for general consumption. By the time I was old enough to feel confident in my skin and realize I looked good in skimpy clothes, Danny and I had been dating for two years and he was the only one I was interested in turning on.

  He’s always been the only one. I have never wanted to be with anyone else, and knowing I’m getting ready to lose him because of Alec and his horrible friends and all the stupid lies we’ve told, makes me want to scream. To scream and keep screaming until the world shatters and I can try to make something new with the pieces.

  “Listen,” Alec says in a harsh whisper, overcompensating for my shout. “You need to pull it together. I’ve been charged as an accessory to a felony and you don’t see me losing my shit.”

  “You know you’re not going to jail,” I say, voice rough. “It’s like the lawyers said, the prosecutor will never be able to prove you had anything to do with it.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Alec says, but for the first time in months I hear uncertainty in his voice. “You know that, Sam. You know I passed out on the couch after the ball dropped. I have no clue what happened after.”

  “If you say so.” I cross my arms over my chest, cold despite the eighty-degree heat of the May afternoon.

  “I do because it’s the truth.” Alec steps closer, eyes narrowing on my face. “From here on out, I’m going to be telling nothing but the truth. I’m already in trouble with the police for lying, and I would have been charged with perjury if I’d been called to testify for the grand jury. I have to look out for number one, Sam. I can’t protect you anymore.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. The only thing Alec has been protecting is his own ass. The lawyer representing him was certain the fact that Deidre was dead would guarantee the case would be dismissed. It was convenient for Alec and the others to let my lie live on, but now they’ll all be telling “the truth,” and I know their truth will bear little resemblance to mine. It’s going to come down to their word against the word of the girl who started the rumor that led to Deidre Jones’s suicide. The word of four of the wealthiest boys at SU—two of them legacies, one the son of a celebrity, and all of them well-connected in the Los Angeles community—against the daughter of a Maui geologist.

  I wear designer clothes and rent an apartment in a posh neighborhood because my stepmother is rich, but I don’t have a trust fund. I have six thousand dollars in savings I’ve earned teaching surf lessons every summer and working part time as a math tutor, but I already know that won’t be enough to pay for a good lawyer. I’ve done enough late night Internet trolling to know I can’t be charged with manslaughter in California for unintentionally driving someone to take their own life, but if the police want to talk to me, I’m going to need good representation by my side. I’ve lied to an investigating officer and withheld evidence. That’s enough to get me into some serious trouble, even if they believe I never meant to hurt anyone.

  And talking to the police is just the first step. Then they’ll want me to talk to the prosecuting attorney, and eventually I’ll be called to the stand in a courtroom and have to tell my story to a room full of strangers, while the boys who ruined my life watch. And the whole time they will be insisting that they’re innocent, that this is my fault, and at least some of the people on the jury will believe them. Because that’s how cases like this work.

  Just thinking about how horrible it’s all going to be is enough to make me feel like I’m going to be sick all over Alec’s five-hundred-dollar shoes.

  Instead, I cover my mouth with my hand, close my eyes, and take deep breaths in and out through my nose. I can’t fall apart right now. Not in front of Alec, not in the middle of the quad where everyone can see.

  “Do you want to call Mom and your dad together?” Alec asks, sympathy in his voice. “We could get a study room in the library and put them on speaker phone.”

  I shake my head. I can’t imagine telling my dad and Penny the truth, let alone with Alec sitting right next to me.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and force my eyes open. “No thanks,” I say, my mouth so dry I can barely get the words out. “I’m going to wait. I want to know what’s happening first.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be charged with anything, but you should get a lawyer just in case,” he says, echoing my thoughts from a moment before. “You can’t be too careful. Mom’s paying for my lawyer, I know she won’t mind—”

  “I said I want to wait, okay?” I snap.

  His sympathetic expression becomes a frown. “Listen, I’m just trying to help. None of this is even my fault. I don’t have to—”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I say in a softer voice. “I just… It’s a lot to take in. I need some time to think is all.” I can’t afford to piss Alec off, or to give him any reason to think I might not be around for that interview he and his friends are assuming I’ll grant the police.

  I need time to think, and to plan how I’m going to keep the courtroom scenario from happening. I can’t end up on the stand. I just can’t. I won’t live through it. It will blow out the last flame of hope inside me, and I’ll never get that fresh start I’ve been dreaming about. If I go down that road, I’m never coming back again.

  I’m going to have to run, but not to some nowhere town in Middle America or the studio apartment in Cape Cod I’ve been daydreaming about. I’ll have to go farther, someplace where no news stations are following the scandal at SU and no one cares that I’m a witness in a felony trial. Somewhere where I can disappear into a new life and none of the bad things from the past can ever find me.

  Even before I say goodbye to Alec—promising to call him if I change my mind about the lawyer and want him on the phone when I call Penny to ask for money—I’m already plotting my new escape route. But this time, I won’t be able to take any of the good things with me. I won’t be able to finish my degree with this hanging over my head, the university might even decide to kick me out of school, once they learn the truth. My education is over, and I’m going to be leaving Sterling with nothing but what I can carry in my suitcase, heading out into the world even more alone and friendless than I thought I’d be.

  Unless…

  I reach where I parked my car, but don’t open the door to get inside. Instead, I pull out my phone and stare at Danny’s number, wondering if maybe I don’t have to leave all of the good things behind, after all. Maybe I’ve been looking at this the wrong way, and I don’t have to run off and carry this load alone for the rest of my life. Maybe Danny and I can run away together and leave all of the ugliness behind.

  I just have to decide how far I’m willing to go to keep the one person who matters by my side.

  Chapter Seven

  Present Day

  Sam

 
“The great object of life is sensation—

  to feel that we exist, even though in pain.”

  -Lord Byron

  I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone moaning, and for a terrifying moment I have no idea where I am. I freeze in bed, hands clutching the scratchy wool blanket and pulling it up to my neck, instinctively moving to conceal myself though I know hiding under the covers won’t do any good if someone’s broken in.

  The moan comes again, a long, low, miserable sound from the opposite side of the room. I’m about to ask who’s there when my eyes adjust to the darkness and I make out the silhouettes of the other bunk beds filling the space and my mind catches up with my body.

  I remember that I’m in the girls’ dorm at the hostel and that the man at the desk said there would be a full house tonight. Twelve girls in the beds and another girl bunking on the floor in the corner—even though that’s technically against the law. But the guy with the beads threaded into his beard on duty tonight said he couldn’t stand to turn a girl out to sleep on the streets. He was willing to risk a fire code violation if we were all willing to make room for one more.

  Eight of the girls in the room are on a mission trip to help build homes for the needy and the rest of us came close enough to not having a place to sleep that we could empathize. We even helped move the beds around to give our thirteenth—a tiny girl with dreads who’s on her way to work on a communal farm—room to crash.

  Everyone at the hostel has been very nice, and done their best to make Danny and me feel welcome, but even all that niceness can’t banish the memory of that kid’s knife at my throat, or the way it felt to be pressed so tight against a stranger’s body. For a few minutes, I’d been transported back to New Year’s Eve.

  I’d relived it all in fast motion, images and sense memories racing through my head so fast the world started to spin. But for the first time, the memories didn’t make me feel scared. I’d been enraged, so furious I’d fought back without thinking about the consequences, and I don’t regret it. I would rather die than be a victim. I’m not going to let anyone hold me down, not ever again.