by Kim Askew
“They aren’t my girlfriends.”
“Harem, hootchie mamas … call them what you will. We talked to them earlier.” I gestured to Caleb. “They were steamed.”
“I don’t know what they told you,” Brian said, scratching the back of his neck, “but I made it pretty clear to all three of them where my head was at. They knew I wasn’t interested in a relationship. It was a friends-with-benefits sort of thing. I assumed they were all in the loop. I mean, that’s all you chicks do is gossip about stuff like that.”
“That’s an interesting take.”
“Why would I want to get into something heavy a month after you dumped me?” he said.
“Come again?”
“You broke my heart, Miranda!”
Had I been socked in the face with a frozen turkey, I couldn’t have been more stunned.
“What … the HELL … are you talking about? I took the fall for your asinine cheating scam! You LIED. You accused me of orchestrating it! Then you topped it all off by carrying on with my best friend, and you’ve been treating me like pond scum ever since!”
“Is that really what you think?” Brian said, looking aghast.
“It’s not what I think. It’s what actually happened.”
“I know it was wrong to have singled you out about the SATs, and believe me, it killed me to have to do it. But here’s the thing: You didn’t have anything to do with the cheating, so I knew you couldn’t actually get busted. At least not in a legal sense.”
“Oh, nice. As if that explains everything?”
“Look, I was certain there’d be no case against you, and I figured you wouldn’t get hurt. I mean, you’re Miranda Prospero, ‘the Teflon teen.’ When have you not been able to land butter-side up in the world?”
“Yeah, well, I was toast, all right.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry about that. I never figured the school board would come down so hard on you, but that’s nothing compared to what I would have been facing had I not ‘named names.’ I wanted to try to explain all that to you at the time,” he continued, “but as part of the deal they’d instructed me not to speak with you. That day of the meeting with our parents, I could tell from the look on your face that you’d never forgive me. You can’t even begin to fathom how that wrecked me.”
“But I….” I tried to jump in, to no avail.
“Crap, Miranda, I was in love with you. I still am.” The room got eerily quiet. Caleb had wisely chosen to remain silent as my conversation continued.
“What about Rachel? Britney? Whitney? Am I missing anyone?”
“No. I don’t know. I guess they’re the ‘cleanup’ crew. They saw how much I was hurting and they were pretty overt about wanting to help me through it—with no strings attached. I mean, hell, they all three have boyfriends in college! As far as I was concerned, I thought we were just having a little fun. Apparently, they saw it differently.”
“Apparently.”
“I guess maybe I just don’t understand chicks that way. But you weren’t just some casual thing for me. You’ve got to know that. I mean, I’d do anything to turn back the clock and have you back in my life.”
“But you’ve been so cruel to me! I don’t understand any of this!”
“It was just stupid pride. I’m a guy; that’s what we do when we’re hurt. We try to hurt back. But I didn’t mean any of it. What I said to your friend, the ‘manic pixie girl,’ was totally uncalled for, too. I need to apologize to her for that, I know. I just let Rachel and the girls egg me on. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll make it up to you!”
He spoke all the words I’d been wanting to hear, and yet, as they filtered through my brain they felt, at once, both consoling and slippery. In the past month, he had shown me exactly the kind of man he was, but now here he was, changing his colors quicker than a chameleon in a Crayola factory. For weeks, I’d been wishing I could see him crawl through broken glass to make his way back to me, and to tell me this was all some giant mistake. Now, practically speaking, that’s basically what he was doing, and my thoughts were all slamming into one another trying to sort out a response.
Despite my best efforts at keeping my shit together, the dam broke. I started to cry. These last few weeks had been so exhaustively painful for me, and I felt like I was reliving it all. My heart literally felt pierced; a shooting pain radiated up into my tightened throat as I breathed in uncontrollable little shudders. I instinctively reached my left hand up to wipe away the tears, inadvertently dragging Caleb’s hand with it. Brian brushed my mangy bangs out of my eyes and tried to console me.
“Don’t be sad,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Please let me try to fix it.” I avoided his gaze, staring instead at a stack of classic board games on a lower shelf. When you really thought about it, the world was really just one giant board game on which we were mere pawns, subject always to a roll of the dice, or so it seemed. I eyed the titles on the boxes: Chutes and Ladders … Trouble … The Game of Life … Mousetrap. There were always going to be winners and losers, and one thing I knew about the human existence is that it basically boiled down to a series of calculated moves. I wondered, at this moment, if I was about to make the right one.
I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if I let Brian back into my life. My worries would presumably vanish in an instant. With his rich-as-sin background, he’d take care of my debt and, best of all, I would no longer be Eastern Prep’s resident pariah. A phoenix rising from the depths of the food court to become ruling snow bunny and shopaholic once again. Ignoring Caleb entirely, I glanced back up at Brian and eked out a small smile amid my sniffles.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I choked through my tears. “I’m still really confused, and we’re going to need a lot of time to rebuild and start over. But believe me when I say my life hasn’t been the same without you in it.”
Brian grabbed my face in both his hands and laid a small, tender kiss on my lips. I couldn’t bring myself to glance in Caleb’s direction, but we were in close enough proximity that I could hear the air escaping through his lips as if whispering to me his disappointment. I knew I was making the right decision, and yet I wanted so badly to offer him an explanation, to tell him why I needed to see things through with my ex. But not here. Not now. In time, hopefully I could reassure him that the Miranda he’d come to know and, well, at least like over the course of this night hadn’t changed. Had it?
“Talk about awkward,” Brian said, looking over at Caleb (at least one of us had the courage to). “Three is most definitely a crowd. What’s the story behind the handcuffs, anyway?”
“Stupid, really. Don’t ask.” I said. “We don’t have the key, obviously.”
“I’m going to go hit up the maintenance department and see if I can find something to break the lock or saw through those. I’ll meet you back at the food court.” He grabbed my free hand and squeezed it. “We can talk more freely then.”
Caleb didn’t say a word as he and I left Got Games and headed back toward the food court. I was speechless with embarrassment about the drama he’d witnessed with Brian and still couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with him. The silence between us was agonizing, but I preferred it, frankly, to anything he might have to say to me. I knew what he must be thinking, and no matter how justified I felt in my own heart, I didn’t want to be one of “those girls” in his eyes. Though feeling uncharacteristically sheepish, I broke our silence when, out of my peripheral vision, I saw someone stumble out of the hallway that led from the janitorial staff’s locker room.
“Oh my god,” I said, stopping short. “It’s Mike!” Deathly pale, the missing Treasure Hunt employee lurched toward us like a Spanish galleon bucking its way through a storm. Caleb rushed forward, dragging me along with him. We reached Mike just in time to catch him as he lost consciousness.
“Hey, Mike! Buddy, are you okay?” Caleb said. Crouching on the floor next to him, he pushed aside a piece of frayed rope to take
Mike’s pulse. A nasty gash on his forehead puckered with dried blood.
“He’s not—” My hands flew to my mouth.
Caleb shook his head and, snapping his fingers in front of Mike’s face, called out to him again. He blinked and opened his eyes. Groaning, he reached up to touch his forehead.
“Ow….” he winced.
“That looks pretty bad. What happened?”
“I was in the back of the store polishing some antique silver we’d just got in.” He tried to sit up, and we helped him scoot over so he could lean against the wall. “A dude wearing a ski mask came in through the back entrance brandishing a gun. I don’t know, I guess we scuffled. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the janitor’s locker room, duct tape over my mouth and tied to a chair. Finally managed to shred my way through the ropes with the corner of a desk … it took hours. I tried to call the cops, but the phone isn’t working in there.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, he looked back and forth between us. “What are you two still doing in the mall? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Just relax for a sec,” Caleb said. “We’ll catch you up on everything, but I want to make sure you’re okay first.”
“I’m fine, really. Just tell me what the hell’s going on,” he said, rubbing the raw marks on his wrist.
We sat down and filled him in on most of what had happened over the last few hours—the relevant stuff anyway.
“We should get him down to the food court,” Caleb said to me. “Chad can take a look at his forehead.”
“Quinn’s there, too,” I said. “She’s been worried sick about you.”
“Guys!” Appearing at the top of the escalator, Grady’s face gave way to alarm when he saw us.
“Don’t worry, he’s okay,” I said. “He had a run-in with the thief. Too bad he didn’t get a glimpse of the guy’s face.” Once he realized Mike wasn’t gravely injured, Grady excitedly referred to the incident as a “10-53,” and we gave him the digest version of Mike’s assault. I saw Seth materialize at the top of the escalator, and he dashed over when he saw us.
“And you can’t remember anything else about the guy who did this?” he said after we’d filled him in.
“No, dude. I completely blacked out after he clocked me.”
“This is why I’ve been asking you kids to quit wandering off,” Grady said. “Miranda, you and I have always had an understanding with one another, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull rank and insist that you return to the food court, ASAP. And stay there, this time.”
“We wouldn’t have found Mike if we hadn’t been up here,” I said.
“No, Grady makes a good point,” Caleb said. “Whoever’s doing this is dangerous and unpredictable. Let’s just go back and hunker down.”
“Glad to see someone appreciates the seriousness of the situation,” Grady said. “You guys will all be just fine if you stick together in one place.”
“Come on, Miranda, let’s just get back to base camp.” Caleb’s tone sounded almost defeatist. “But where’s…? Aww, hell,” he said. “I left my wallet back on the Got Games counter.”
“No, you—” I started. He hadn’t touched his wallet all night.
“Yes, yes I did.” he said. “Grady, we’re just going to run right back—give us two seconds. I know exactly where I left it. Can you guys help Mike down the escalator?”
Grady hesitated. “I was on my way down to the other end of the mall to convince the kids there to relocate to the food court. Strength in numbers, you know.”
“I’ll get Mike back,” Seth said.
“Thanks, man,” said Caleb. “We’ll be back in a jiffy.”
“See that you are,” said Grady, turning on his heel to depart. With a backward glance, he added, “Don’t let Miranda coerce you into any more detours!”
“No way,” Caleb said. “She and I are through—with all that, I mean. Besides, I think Miranda has other priorities. We’ll meet you back downstairs.”
I waved at Mike as he disappeared down the escalator with Seth and then turned to Caleb, flummoxed.
“Why did you lie to him?”
“Because I’m not willing to be trapped in here like sitting ducks any more,” he said. “This isn’t just some petty crime. People are getting hurt, we haven’t seen your friend Colin in hours…. This just doesn’t smell right. We need the real police here—not McGruff the Crime Dog.”
“Agreed, but what’s your idea?”
“They stock ham radios at Radio Hut,” Caleb explained. “I think if we set one up and find the right frequency, we should be able to contact a dispatcher or an amateur CB buff who can put us in touch with the cops. Not that you’ve ever cared about what I think, but there you have it.”
He was clearly peeved with me, but given the latest development with the thief, I wasn’t of the mindset to react to his hostile tone of voice.
“Okay, fine by me. Let’s go.”
After that, Caleb maintained an uncomfortable silence as we made our way to Radio Hut. He finally said, “Don’t worry. I’ll have you back to your boyfriend before you even have time to miss him. And though he strikes me as good for nothing, maybe he’ll succeed at his mission to free you. God knows I want out of these cuffs as badly as you do.”
I briefly considered trying to justify my about-face with Brian, but I had too much pride to kowtow to Caleb’s open animosity. I would explain things when I felt good and ready, and not before.
“They’re back here,” Caleb said as we made our way through Radio Hut’s aisles to the shelves that carried ham radios.
“Does it need batteries or anything?” I randomly chose a box from the shelf and turned it over. He leaned over my shoulder to read the instructions. I could feel his breath on my ear.
“Wait,” he said in a whisper, holding a finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”
I heard the distinctive slide-and-click of the cash register at the front of the store. Startled, I sent the radio box clattering to the floor. Oh crap. Caleb and I exchanged alarmed glances. If we were in here with the thief, he was between us and the exit. Rotating his cuffed hand to grab mine, Caleb pulled me toward the stock room. Opening the door stealthily, we slipped inside and softly shut it behind us. No sooner had we leaned against the door than we heard an audible click. Someone had entered the lockdown code into the security keypad reserved only for mall emergencies. We were trapped!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sweet Lord, You Play Me False
Little known fact about me: I’m not cut out for peril. I might have a knack for getting things done, and can grudgingly weather humiliation like a champ, but risking life and/or limb? Not my forte, thank you very much. I spent the summer before my sixth-grade year in a state of almost-constant anxiety after one too many Nancy Drew mysteries led me to obsess over the likelihood of being attacked by a lake-dwelling octopus or getting dumped in an abandoned mine shaft by some ex-con named “Grumper.” So needless to say, disbelief quickly gave way to unadulterated panic when I heard the retreating footsteps of whoever it was that had locked us in.
My natural inclination would have been to pace the room—a no-go with the maze of cardboard boxes stacked floor-to-ceiling in our midst, not to mention the impediment chained to my wrist. He and I stood glued in silence to the cement floor, giving my rapid-fire pulse an opportunity to ease up a degree. We each separately took stock (no pun intended) of our fluorescent-lit surroundings, which seemed eerily crypt-like. In addition to the aforementioned boxes, there was a beat-up black file cabinet with the initials W.S. scratched on its front, a “bend at the knees before lifting” safety poster, and a life-sized cardboard cutout of Tom Hanks holding a volleyball. Random. I made a mental note to check the mini fridge later, even though it was grimly affixed with a sticker that read “Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter.”
“Well, that happened,” Caleb said after a long silence. Apparently sensing my anxiety, he added, “If he were going to do anything to us
, he would’ve done it already. I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“I hope you’re right. But after seeing what he did to Mike, I’m not so sure. What if he decides he wants to take me for his captive bride and ferrets me away to some dilapidated mountain compound far from the world’s watching eye?”
“Are you kidding me? Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Well, excuse me for having a perfectly natural freak-out response to all this. Unlike you, I do not have the emotional detachment of a cyborg. Anyway, what do we do now? No one has any clue we’re even here.”
He jiggled the door handle, to no avail. Oh brilliant.
“Really?” I said. “The doorknob? That’s all you got?” He turned to me looking fed up.
“As a matter of fact, yeah. So what do you suggest, your eminence? By all means, do enlighten me.”
Both his question and his sarcasm hung heavy in the stale stockroom air. I didn’t really have a plan either; no cunning quick fix, no brilliant tactical maneuver, no ingenious trick up my sleeve … other than to make like a girl and scream bloody murder.
“Someone helllllp!” I started wailing in desperation, pounding my unshackled fist against the metal door. “Let us out!!!”
It didn’t take long before Caleb joined forces with me, kicking at the door with his steel-toed boot while we both pounded our fists until our hands ached and our throats were raspy.
“This is pointless,” he finally said. “No one’s down at this end of the building. We might be locked in here until the mall opens back up and a new shift comes in.”
“And with ‘Arctic Doomsday’ out there, who knows when that’ll be!” As I succumbed to exhaustion, hunger, fear, and anger, tears started to well up in my eyes.
“Jeez, just calm down, alright?”
“Quit telling me what to do!!” I screamed. “We should have listened to Grady and gone back to the food court, but no—you just had to run off and play hero! Ineffectually, I might add!”
“Ohhhhh.” Caleb smacked his free palm to his forehead in an overexaggerated gesture of insight. “Now I get it. Worried he’ll think you’re ditching him, huh?”