by Megan Rose
“Okay, just what’s going on?”
“We’re about to go to this club place and then a party thing or something like that. I don’t really know.” She spoke fast and fidgeted like a little kid at church. “But it’s going to be fun! We’re all going to squish in Kevin’s car.” She pointed to That Jerk. “That’s Kevin.”
“Yeah, I figured. Your boyfriend?” Mark asked, surprisingly jealous. Who would be jealous of that guy?
Lacey laughed. “No! Why would you say that? Anyway, you’re coming with us, right? Claudia said that she – “
“Who’s Claudia?” he interrupted. Lacey pointed to the only other girl there, smoking a cigarette, looking like I really don’t want to be here but if you guys insist…
“Hey, guys! Let’s go!” Kevin called. Everyone began piling in the car.
“Come on!” Lacey pulled Mark along with her and said, “Make room for Mark – he’s coming with us!”
“No, I’m not, Lacey.”
“What? Why not? It’s going to be fun!” She clapped her hands cheerily. “Oh,” she smiled at him, “we have a designated driver, don’t worry. He won’t drink a lot or anything, so…or at least that’s what they told me.”
“You’re really going with them?”
“Yeah! And you are too! Come on!” She pulled him closer to the car.
Mark thought about it for a minute. “Actually, I will come. But why don’t you let me drive you so you all don’t have to squish in their so tightly? Then I can give you a ride home too.” That way at least she wouldn’t have to get in a car with any of these idiots when they were drunk.
She waved at the guys and got their attention. They lowered Nicki Minaj (thankfully) and looked at Lacey. “I’m going with Mark! We’ll follow you!” She looked at Mark and smiled the biggest, craziest smile he’d ever seen. He was really worried about her now. Her eyes were huge, and she was visibly shaking. ”Where’s your car?”
✽✽✽
Mark began to drive Lacey over to Juice, the new club that was a reasonable driving-distance away. She had the radio turned up and her window rolled down. She looked so excited Mark didn’t even think it was healthy.
“Lacey,” he turned off the music, “something’s wrong.”
Lacey frowned. “What? Is it your car? Maybe the next time we pass by a gas station or something we can stop there so you can fix it.”
“No, I meant something’s wrong with this…situation. With you.”
“Me?” She looked shocked. A shrill laugh escaped her lips, accompanied by a sudden look of sadness in her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” She blinked and there she was again, eyes popping out like Large Marge. “What, do I look bad?” She looked terrified as she asked.
“Well, yeah,” he answered, honestly. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“You just don’t know what’s really cool right now. Everyone will be dressed like this once we get to Juice. Then you’ll be the one who looks bad.”
“Maybe we could go somewhere else,” he suggested. “Pick a restaurant or something, wherever you want, we’ll go there. I’ll pay and everything. Just tell that Kevin kid that you’ll have to take a rain check on the make-out session…”
“Oh, well we didn’t have anything planned…Oh,” a weird cackle once again emanated from deep inside her, “you’re joking. That’s funny. Anyway, I just met him last night so – “
“What? Wasn’t your date with Connor last night?” He was getting a headache.
“Yes, but he freaked out and had to go and there was a group of kids in the diner talking about the new club and how they’re invited – “
“Wait. Are these the kids who Connor wanted to impress?”
“Yes! You see? Once they like me they’ll like Connor. It’s, like, the transportive property or something. This is great for him.” She paused. “Just don’t tell him you saw me here with them tonight, okay?”
It was too much. He couldn’t follow what she was saying anymore. Once he actually sat down with her and she started from the beginning, he would understand. He just had to get her to agree to go somewhere with him, besides the club.
He considered just straying away from the other car and not driving to Juice at all, but she would catch on. And he didn’t think an angry Lacey would be very good for his car or their safety right now.
They rode for a little while in silence, and then Lacey blasted the radio once more. Someone had written something on her knuckles and she was wearing a ring on almost every finger. Where did she even get this stuff?
They pulled into the dirt parking lot at Juice, which looked like an old barn with some neon lights dangling precariously above the entrance. You could hear the music through the walls of the establishment, over the already booming music coming from the car radio.
Lacey turned the radio off. “Great!” she said as she began to climb out of the car. “Come on, Mark. You can be Marty’s date. You guys will just have to be gay. Marty might not like it, but he probably won’t have any idea what’s going on anyway, so that’s no problem. Make sure the guys know you’re not really gay, though. We don’t need to start with the politics. They say what they think, and they’ll be rude to you no matter what, but – “
“Lacey,” Mark had gotten out of his truck and was rubbing his temples, “this isn’t you, let’s just go.”
“What do you mean? I’m not leaving!” She laughed almost hysterically and Mark suddenly wondered if maybe she was high. Or drunk. Or if it really was Lacey’s evil twin.
“Okay fine, I’ll be Marty or whoever’s date. Just promise that you’ll let me drive you home.”
“Geez, Mark. Who are you, my father?” Mark paused at her question and the kids in the clown car started pouring out.
“Hey Lace!” the girl who must be named Claudia shouted from across the parking lot. “It’s too crowded tonight! We’re going right to Ryan’s party!”
“Oh, okay! We’ll meet you there!” She waved and started to hike her way up back into the truck when Mark stopped her.
“Who’s Ryan?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged and looked at him nonchalantly.
“Lacey, I’m not driving you there. If you come with me, then we’re going home.”
“Oh my God! Mark, what is wrong with you? Hey guys, wait up!” she called over to her new friends. “What is it with you? You’re so overprotective. I’m not surprised I’m one of your only friends here. And what’s the big deal, anyway? It’s a party. I’ve been to loads of them.”
“Yeah, but something’s wrong, Lacey. I don’t know what it is, but we have to get you home.” He stepped back so she could make her way into the truck but she just stood there.
“Why do you keep saying that? ‘Something’s wrong.’ Maybe nothing’s wrong! Maybe you just don’t really know me as well as you think you do. We’ve only been friends for, what, two, three weeks?”
“And you’ve been friends with those guys for how long?” He was really getting exasperated now. He hadn’t expected to have an argument with a stubborn teenager tonight.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mark, and you don’t know me. So if you would just drive your monster truck back to your apartment complex, that’d be great. I’ll help you set the GPS. Bring it out here.” She looked over at Claudia. “One minute! Sorry! Someone’s being a party-pooper!” She stuck out her tongue and pointed to Mark.
“You know what? Fine. Go. Have fun.” He slammed the passenger door and walked around his car. “If you wind up – “
“If I wind up, what, Mark? Dead? Fine, yeah. If I wind up dead then no one can say it was your fault. You win. You tried to save me, but I wouldn’t listen.” She let out a big breath.
“First, you think I can’t handle my diet. Now, you think I can’t handle my own friends. I know what I’m doing, okay? I don’t need your helpful little advice every step of the way!” She t
urned around and stomped over to her friends, legs wobbling as her heels sank into the dirt.
“Fine, Lacey! I’m done giving you advice! Have fun figuring out the rest of tonight on your own!” He started to get into his truck and then added, for good measure, “And you look horrible, by the way – especially your hair!” With that, he jumped in his truck, put it into gear, and drove off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.
“She doesn’t want my help, then I should stop trying to help her. She’ll screw up on her own and see I was right,” he mumbled to himself as he typed into the GPS with one hand, driving with the other. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she had to admit to him that he was right all along. Maybe then she’d listen to sense every once in a while. And now that she was gone, he’d have more time to spend with his other friends – the ones Lacey didn’t seem to think he had.
Mark pulled into his complex and ignored the knot that had slowly settled in his stomach during the ride home. He went up to his apartment where the door was unlocked and the TV was still on. He walked over to his TV and turned it off. Maybe he’d hang out with friends. He had lots of friends, after all. As he thought about it, though, he decided it would probably be best if he just went to bed.
Chapter 7
When he woke up the next morning, Mark told himself he had slept well and that he hadn’t been up for six hours worrying about Lacey, because he wasn’t overprotective. The circles under his eyes said something different.
The salon was open today, but he didn’t know if Lacey was scheduled to work. After doing a few things at his store and eating his lunch alone, he went across the street and found Mayra. He tried to just stick his head in to ask Mayra about Lacey, so he wouldn’t be accosted by Lana, but it hadn’t worked.
“Mark!” Lana ran over to him and pulled him in the store. “I’m so glad you’re here. I have a business proposition for you that I want to discuss. Maybe we could –
“Actually Lana, I was just wondering if Lacey was in today.” Lana’s face fell flat and she ran a hand through her silky hair. She turned around and slammed a piece of paper down on Mayra’s desk, making Mayra jump out of her chair, and walked to the back of the salon. Mark looked at Mayra for an explanation, but she just shrugged.
“Nice to see you, Mark. But no, Lacey isn’t in today.” Mark held his breath. Was something wrong? Was she okay? “She has today off.” He realized his shoulders were up to his ears and he relaxed. She was fine. She was just tired from being stupid all night.
“Is something wrong? What happened?” Mayra looked worried and he told her, while at the same time telling himself, that there was nothing to worry about. Lacey was fine.
Lana eventually made her way back up to the front of the salon and tried to comment on Lacey’s lazy work ethic. Mark just turned around, walked out the door and across the street to his store. He didn’t know what Lana was even doing there still. Hadn’t she worked for the week? Mayra was back. Shouldn’t she be done now?
He pushed the thoughts of the women of Whindry and all of their problems out of his mind and turned the radio on once he was in his store. He was going to have a really productive day and maybe try to find some men in this town – he had heard they existed, but it seemed like it was a myth. Then, after work he would stop at Lacey’s to say “I told you so” like he was five-years-old.
Her door was locked, which was surprising, because Lacey usually left her door unlocked, especially if she was home. He knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. She was probably at the store returning her skank costume. He would stop by tomorrow morning before work and catch her then.
But tomorrow came and there was still no Lacey. For the next two days after that, Mark woke up and went straight to her apartment. He took his lunch break and went across the street to check the salon. He stopped by her place again on his way home, and he still wasn’t able to find her. Everyone was starting to get worried now, and although the police had been contacted, they weren’t doing very much.
Mark had expected a big hullabaloo from the police officers. It seemed like nothing bad ever happened in Whindry, so they should have had plenty of time to devote to the case. They looked for her tirelessly one night, but after that they were pretty much gone.
He had knocked on nearly every door in his apartment building until he found that Claudia girl, who said she had no idea where Lacey was. Last they saw her was at the party and she was “being weird” so they just left her there. Who does that? Who just leaves a person at the party of someone they don’t even know?
Mark had been stopping at her house and going around back every once in a while, to see if he could see anything through the sliding glass door. She had left the blinds open. He didn’t want to invade Lacey’s privacy and go in her house, but the police had told him to look in the most obvious spots and her home was an obvious spot. After searching for her for so long, he figured it would be stupid not to go inside. She could have fallen and couldn’t get up or something. (Not that she was 90 and in a commercial for LifeAlert.)
Gently, he opened the back door and stepped inside. “Hey, Lacey?” he called. “It’s Mark! Just checking in…” He walked around and stepped on an incredible amount of hair accessories as he went through the living room.
He looked in her room and it was spotless. Her closet was open and it looked like she had color-coded all of her clothes. The bed was made up so well it looked like it belonged in a hotel. Her shoes were standing up in the corner of her room on a little step – shortest heel to tallest. It didn’t look like the room of the Snickers-eating, beach-loving, somewhat overemotional Lacey.
It looked like someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder had invaded and organized everything. Evidently, they had only gotten to her room, because the rest of the house was a mess. He went through every room and looked in every closet and even under the bed, but there was no one there. He stayed for a few minutes, thinking that maybe if he waited there she would show up. But he knew he wasn’t going to see her through sheer will.
The next day, Mark checked her apartment again – once before work and once at lunch – going through the back door and tiptoeing his way through the house, so as not to startle Lacey if she was there. It was empty both times. He stayed late at his store, waiting for a delivery. It was around 8:00 at night when he finally left.
He almost didn’t go to Lacey’s, thinking maybe it was bad luck, him showing up every day and waiting for her. The police had said to look for her, not break into her apartment every night and stand there like a creep for a half hour.
Tonight, though, he decided he would just knock on the door and maybe peek through the back. There really wasn’t any reason to keep going into her room and wondering who had left it so neat. He knocked on the front door and got no response, like he expected.
While he walked casually around her building, he realized he just wanted to hear Lacey yell at him about how insensitive he was or how overprotective he was. She could even cry hysterically and use his shirt as a tissue. He just wanted her back and okay. When he walked up to the sliding glass door, though, he started to sweat and all the blood drained from his face.
There were two holes in the back door. It looked as if someone had punched through the thin glass. He figured he must be mistaken – who would punch through the door, especially when it was always unlocked? Then he noticed the big droplets of blood on her carpet and patio.
Mark opened the back door and came in quietly, listening for anyone who might be there. His shoes crunched on the shards of glass surrounding his feet, and he heard a sound coming from the bathroom. It was crying. He had heard Lacey cry enough times to know that it was her. He suddenly wished that he hadn’t come there. He didn’t want to know what happened.
“Lacey? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He stepped on some glass mingled with multiple hair clips, snapping them in two, but he didn’t even give them a second thought. He made his way to the bathroom and stood there,
looking at Lacey’s back.
She was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, both her feet inside the tub, her head hanging low. He couldn’t see her arms at first, but as she lifted her hand to her face to wipe away some tears, he saw blood dripping down her arm.
“Lacey.” And then he couldn’t speak. He had no clue what was going on, but it wasn’t good. It was really, really not good. And he didn’t have the slightest idea what it was.
She turned her head and looked back at him, not quite meeting his eye. He heard her say, just above a whisper, “Something’s wrong.”
Mark tried to get Lacey to go to the hospital, but she refused. She said they would send her to the crazy wing and she would be locked up in some white room without a window until they figured out what was wrong with her (“which they never would”). He didn’t try to change her mind about that because it was pointless, but he told her that she had physical injuries on her hands that she should get looked at. She still wouldn’t go. She didn’t want to “risk it.”
Mark sat next to her on the tub and tried to gently take off the assortment of rings that adorned her fingers. Lacey stopped him and ripped them off one by one, quickly and painfully over the cuts on her knuckles. Then she washed her hands, scraping dried blood off her fingers, and she wiped the blood off of her arms.
He tucked her into bed, and she fell right asleep. For the next two hours, Mark cleaned up blood and glass from the carpet and the tub, called the police to tell them Lacey was home and was okay, and he called Mayra hoping she would be able to help him.
“Hello? Lacey?” A groggy Mayra had picked up the phone. Mark looked at the clock. It was 11:30. “Is that you?” She sounded more awake now.
“No, Mayra. It’s Mark.”