Jek/Hyde

by Amy Ross

  Or worse yet, I’ve developed such a reputation as a Goody Two-shoes that I’m not even wanted at the cool parties. Camila made that pretty clear last night. Unlike Jek, I don’t get to choose whether to attend or not. I just have to sit at home moping on a Saturday night, while everyone else gets all the excitement.

  My phone buzzes and almost gives me a heart attack. It’s 1:15 a.m. Who would text at this hour?

  I check the text. It’s nothing but an address in the Hidden Ponds trailer park.

  My heart thumps in my chest.

  Who is this? I text back.

  The response is almost instant.

  Hyde.

  What the hell? I sit up in my bed and text back.

  How did you get my #?

  The reply comes a few seconds later.

  Is it a secret? Then: Come over.

  I stare at the text for a minute, wondering why the words seem to blur before my eyes. Then I realize my hand is shaking. I drop my phone on the bed as if it might bite me, and try not to imagine the possibility that Hyde can read my mind.

  Five minutes later, I’m still staring uncertainly at my phone. Hyde hasn’t texted again. Why did he text me? We’re not friends. We’re not really even acquaintances. If anything, Hyde has every reason to hate my guts. So why would he seek out my number? Why now?

  He must be having one of his parties...the ones that half an hour ago I was so desperate to be invited to.

  I should go. Just to show Jek that he doesn’t get to tell me where to go, who to hang out with. To show Camila, too, that I’m not such an innocent. I can be as wild as any of them.

  Except... Camila and Jek were both just looking out for me, weren’t they? Last night I saw exactly how dangerous Hyde can be. Why would I want anything to do with that? I don’t have anything to prove.

  With sudden inspiration, I pick up my phone. If Jek’s so adamant that I not hang out with Hyde, he can hang out with me instead. I don’t care if Jek is the “safe” option—I’d rather see him than Hyde anyway, and he’s always up at this hour.

  Hey. Sorry I blew up this afternoon. Wanna hang out, watch a movie?

  A minute or two passes before he texts back.

  Busy.

  I growl in annoyance. That’s a pretty terse blow off, even for Jek. What’s he busy with at this hour? Unless...

  You’re at Hyde’s, aren’t you? Hypocrite.

  No, he texts back instantly. Busy.

  I throw my phone at the laundry pile and roll over to stare at the wall. He’s lying. He’s with Hyde. Why is he lying? What does he do with Hyde that he wants to keep me away from? Or, if he’s not lying, what’s he up to that he can’t just tell me? We used to tell each other everything.

  * * *

  The buzz of my cell phone jolts me awake from deeply disturbing dreams. I’m still in my clothes, with a lamp on, and it’s...4:10 a.m. What the hell? I dig into the laundry pile and find my phone. It’s Jek again.

  Hey. You should go to Hyde’s party.

  I stare at it in confusion, wondering if I’m still half asleep. But a minute later, it still reads the same. Jek...is telling me to go to Hyde’s party...at 4:00 a.m.

  Why? Are you there?

  No, he texts back instantly. That’s even weirder.

  Another text comes fast on its heels.

  Because Hyde wants to fuck you.

  I fumble a moment but manage not to drop my phone.

  Is this some kind of prank?

  The next text is disgusting. So disgusting I shut off my phone and crawl back into bed, the covers up over my ears, my fingers trembling, my skin burning. Jek has never...he would never say something like that. Not to me. Not to anyone. I can’t even picture him thinking it. What the hell is going on?

  I shut my eyes tight and try to get back to sleep, but I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about Jek and why he would text me that, and about Hyde, and whether Hyde really said anything about me to Jek, and all the things Camila told me about Hyde and what he does.

  Hyde put Jek up to this, somehow. Or got him drunk or high enough to...but even that seems far-fetched. My brain keeps coming back to the image of Hyde standing in front of Jek’s door, holding Jek’s phone in his hand. But that was ages ago, and Jek definitely got his phone back since then. But is it so unlikely that Hyde might have swiped it again? Maybe Jek was there earlier and left it behind. Maybe Hyde took it from him. Maybe Jek’s passed out or is disoriented, and Hyde thinks it’s all a big joke.

  I open my eyes and look at the clock. 4:33 a.m.

  Jek could be in trouble. But he told me to mind my own business. But that was before he texted me at 4:00 a.m., instructing me to have sex with his friend. Which effectively makes this my business, I think. Whether or not Jek really sent that text.

  I get up and grab my car keys.

  * * *

  Hidden Ponds is outside London city limits, a short drive along the town’s commercial strip past the multiplex, the chain restaurants and big-box stores, their signs all blazing through the darkness even at this hour of night. Farther on, the big-boxes turn smaller, their illuminated signs dimmer and plainer, and tucked among the pawn shops and palm readers is the easy-to-miss turnoff for the trailer park.

  The park itself is hardly lit at this time of night, and I have to creep through to read the numbers pinned haphazardly to aluminum walls. At last I find the one I’m looking for: a dingy single-wide with a slick muddy patch where the front yard should be. Maybe it does make me judgmental like Camila said, but I still can’t believe all those rich London Chem brats are showing up to parties at a dump like this.

  Not that it seems like much of a party—other than a few dim lights in the windows, it doesn’t look like there’s much going on inside. Through the door, I can hear the low thump of music and not much else. But then, it is pretty late. I’m starting to feel like an idiot for coming at all—at this hour, everyone has surely gone home, and Hyde is probably passed out in bed.

  I’m about ready to turn around and head back to my car when the door swings open to reveal Hailee, her face streaked with running mascara. I’m stunned into silence at the sight, and so is she it seems. Then my shock shifts into annoyance: Is everyone I know hanging out with Hyde behind my back?

  “Lulu?” says Hailee, squinting out into the darkness. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think this was your scene.”

  “Oh, um...” I sputter. “I was looking for Jek, actually. Do you know if he was here? Earlier, I mean? I just...” I trail off, flustered. If she asks me why I showed up to a party at four thirty in the morning looking for Jek, I really don’t know what I’m going to say.

  “Jek? Here?” Hailee looks puzzled by the question. In fact, she looks a little wobbly, her eyes hazy and disoriented. “I don’t remember seeing him.”

  I step inside the doorway and wrap an arm around Hailee, surreptitiously glancing around the room. The cramped space is bathed in a blue half-light thanks to a large television screen propped against one wall. The sound on the TV is muted, and it takes me a moment to make sense of the grainy images flickering across its surface; when I recognize a close-up of flesh and wire and sharp metal, it reminds me of what Alexis and Olivia told me about Hyde’s home movies, and I look away with a shudder.

  Around the TV, mismatched couches and cushions are shoved tightly into all the available space, and sprawled across them are various acquaintances of mine from school or around town, plus a few strangers. Some are passed out, some are watching the scene in the video unfold with dull, glassy eyes. And some of the human piles are...moving.

  My mind isn’t prepared to parse what I’m looking at, so I gently guide Hailee toward a kitchenette in the corner. It’s none of my business, anyway.

  “Are you all right?” I ask her as I fill a c
up with water.

  She gives a sort of hiccup-laugh-sob in reply, but she accepts the cup and takes a long drink.

  “Am I all right?” she repeats when she’s finished, as if bewildered by the question. “Not really,” she says at last. “But I only got what was coming to me.”

  My chest tightens at her words, as I think about what Maia told me happened to Natalie. I’m almost afraid to hear what Hyde might have done to Hailee, but I can see that she needs someone to talk to right now.

  “Hailee,” I say firmly, trying to get her to focus, “what happened? Whatever he did to you, you can tell me.”

  She gives another bitter, choked laugh and shakes her head. “God, it’s so embarrassing.” I hand her a tissue from my purse, and she wipes fruitlessly at her smudged makeup. “Hyde and I were...” She breaks off, looking ashamed, but I urge her on. “We’d been fooling around a little, the past couple of weeks. Nothing serious. I know that’s shitty of me, because of Lane, but...”

  She glances at me guiltily. I almost can’t believe what she’s telling me, but at the same time I’m ashamed at my own naïveté. Hailee is here by herself, at Hyde’s place. Based on what Camila told me this afternoon, that can only mean one thing. But how could she do that to Lane? Sweet, trusting Lane. I feel a ball of anger welling up in me on his behalf, but I tamp it down. Whatever is going on between Lane and Hailee, that obviously isn’t the issue right now. Hailee and I have never been that close, but she needs a friend, and I’m the only one here for her. I nod at her to go on.

  “I just figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him,” she says with a helpless shrug. “And I was going to break it off, really I was, but then Lane said he was busy tonight, so I came here, thinking ‘one last time.’ Then I get here and find—”

  Another sob cuts her short. A part of me is still shocked and angry that she would betray Lane, but I can’t help being touched by the depth of her misery and self-recrimination. I pull her into what I hope is a comforting hug.

  I’m still holding her when a door opens behind her and Hyde steps out. He’s not wearing a shirt, and the top button of his jeans is poorly done up. I let go of Hailee and turn away, embarrassed, then feel even more embarrassed at my looking away. Pull yourself together, Lupita.

  I lean into the counter as Hyde walks past, trying to make myself invisible. But Hyde ignores me as he scans the various surfaces around the room. Finding what he came for, he moves smoothly toward a half-empty bottle of whiskey and tosses it from hand to hand as he heads back toward what must be the bedroom. It’s then that he spots me.

  “Well,” he murmurs, running his eyes down my body, “if it isn’t sweet little Lulu Gutierrez. I knew you couldn’t stay away.” Distantly I’m aware that Hailee has left me, though I couldn’t say whether she’s moved a few feet away or headed out the door. That would probably be the smartest move at this point, but I feel locked in place by Hyde’s gaze. He puts the bottle down and lounges easily against the counter across from me, his hips canted forward. “So. Come to take me up on my offer? I’m afraid the bed’s occupied at the moment, but I’m sure we can improvise.”

  I shake my head, both to reject his suggestion and clear the fuzz from my brain. “Th-that’s not why I’m here.”

  “No?” he says, and arranges his face in an expression of mild disappointment. “Then what did you come for? Whatever you want, I’m sure it can be arranged.” He’s not leaning against the counter anymore. I realize he’s moving closer to me, so slowly that I could easily slip away, if I wasn’t frozen in place. He bows his head a little and his breath comes warm on my neck. “No rules here, Lulu,” he says, his voice so low and rough I can feel it in my bones. “All you have to do is ask.”

  “I—” I begin, but my mouth is suddenly dry. The scent of him, sweet and bitter like the pith of an orange, is almost overwhelming. I lick my lips and try again. “I want—”

  A familiar voice breaks me from my trance. “Hyde? Are you coming back to bed?” I whip my head around to match the name to the voice and there it is. Lane is standing in the bedroom doorway, his eyelids heavy, his pupils big and dark, and a sheet clutched loosely around his hips. Hyde doesn’t answer him. Instead, he lifts a hand to my cheek and gently nudges my face back toward his.

  “Go on, Lu,” he says softly. “Tell me what you want.”

  My heart is pounding and I swallow hard as I stare into his inky black eyes.

  “I want to get out of here.”

  CHAPTER 11

  It’s still dark when I get home, though the black sky overhead is just beginning to shade into a damp gray over the London Chem buildings up on the hill. I close the front door behind me as quietly as I can, but before I can slip into my bedroom I hear a hiss from the living room.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  With a sigh, I turn and follow the sound to its source. Mom is sitting in her usual chair, her laptop on her lap. Thanks to her work schedule, she can never sleep at night, even on the weekends. Over the past few years, I’ve gotten used to waking up on Sunday mornings just as she’s getting ready to go to bed. I think she likes her video game mostly because it makes her feel less lonely during those dark hours. But now, with all the room lights out, the cheerful cartoon characters of her game cast her face in an eerie pink-and-green glow. I move to turn on a lamp, but she stops me.

  “You’ll wake Carlos,” she says in a low voice as she nods toward a lump of blankets on the couch. “He was up coughing most of the night, he needs his rest.”

  She pauses her game and directs me back into the kitchen.

  “What were you doing out in the middle of the night?” she demands, still keeping her voice down.

  “Nothing, Mom,” I insist. “Just...a party.”

  Mom flicks on the bright overhead light and pulls me under it as she examines my eyes.

  “Were you driving drunk?” she asks fiercely. “High?”

  “Mom, no!” I pull away from her. “Nothing like that.”

  She hums her disbelief.

  “A party that gets out at 5:00 a.m., and no one is drinking or doing drugs? Lulu Gutierrez, you must think I was born yesterday. It was one of those London Chem brats, wasn’t it? I don’t like you going to those parties,” she goes on before I can correct her. “They’re not good for girls like you.”

  “Girls like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She clucks her tongue at me. “You know what I mean. The rich boys invite the poor girls to their parties, act like you’re all friends. Then they pass the girls around like toys. I watched it happen with your cousin, and I don’t want to see it happen to you.”

  “You think Camila is anyone’s toy?” I let out a sharp laugh at the thought. I don’t know anyone more in control of what she wants than Camila. “What makes you think that she’s not using those boys as much as they’re using her?”

  Mom presses her lips together. “Come on, Lulu...you’re not so naïve. You need me to tell you the difference between them? The difference is, when all this is over, they’re going to go off to fancy East Coast colleges, and Camila will still be here. And you’ll be no better off if you do what she does.”

  I want to argue with her more and defend Camila, but a part of me recognizes some truth in what she’s saying. I think not just of Camila, but Natalie, and Maia, and all the other girls I grew up with who now spend every weekend flirting with the London Chem brats on the kegger circuit. Everyone’s having fun together now, but come graduation, I know it will be a different picture.

  I collapse into a chair, having lost all energy for this fight.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I explain weakly. “I wasn’t doing anything. I was just looking for Jek.”

  She narrows her eyes, clearly not finding this story a big improvement over the other. “Did you find him?”r />
  “No,” I sigh. “Nobody had seen him.”

  “Yeah?” She sits down across from me. “Is that good or bad?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about him, Mama,” I say, calling her by a term I haven’t used since I was a baby. “I don’t like the people he’s hanging out with, and I think he might have gotten himself into trouble.”

  “Well, what do you expect? I told you that boy was just like the rest of them.”

  “Mom!”

  She sighs. “Lulu, I know you care about him,” she says more gently. “I know how it is. You think if you worry enough, if you take care of him and rescue him, that will make him yours. But you’ll never keep a boy like that. Just look at me and your father.”

  “Jek is nothing like Dad,” I say, offended.

  “Sure,” she says. “If you say so. But I was a lot like you. I thought I could tame him. I found him a job, gave him a family. And what did he do? Ran off to the city the first chance he got. Listen to me, Lulu.” She leans across the table and puts out one hand. “You’re never going to be the most important person in Jek’s life, so you’ve got to be the most important person in your life. It’s okay to worry, but don’t mistake his future for yours.”

  I’m too tired to mount an argument, so I just nod blearily and give her my hand to squeeze.

  “Good,” she says. “Now, go get some sleep.”

  I go to my room and fall into bed just as the first rays of pink cut through my blinds. My last thought before sleep takes me is to hope I have a text from Jek when I wake up, explaining what happened.

  * * *

  Six hours later when I check my phone, there’s nothing. I don’t hear from him the rest of the day, either.

  I’m not sure if I would trust a text from him at this point, anyway. Who knows where his phone is now, and who’s controlling it? In the evening, I stop by his house but he doesn’t answer his door, and Puloma says she hasn’t seen him since the previous night. She tells me he’s been in and out a lot lately, and she might have just missed him.