by Jesse Grey
Westbrooke had been buzzing with Homecoming hysteria throughout the week. Now that Friday had finally fallen upon the masses, the entire school was bubbling with anticipation for the dance. But before the gym became the dancefloor, it first had to hold the very important event that was the pep rally.
Classes were done with and everyone was either on their way to the pep rally or was already attempting to find a coveted seat in the bleachers. While almost every able body in Westbrooke High was piling into the gymnasium, Abram was lingering in the weight room with the other Westbrooke Wolverine cheerleaders for the pep rally to begin.
He was standing with his sister, nerves welling against every action he displayed as he retied his shoes for the third time.
“Abe, relax.” Willa laughed. “You’re going to do fine.”
“It’s just been a long time since I’ve done this. And the last time I did…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the name of the marauder that had actually gotten him into cheerleading.
The door to the weight room flung open, Alex gliding in and greeting everyone with a smile. Harley was quick to notice his sudden arrival and swiftly went to meet him at the head of the room.
“Alex,” Harley hid her immediate uneasy feelings about the shouldbecaptain of her squad showing up behind doors closed to those without a uniform. “Hi.”
“Sorry for intruding. I just wanted to wish everyone luck.” he beamed again.
Alex waved and hugged a few of his cheerleader friends before striding over to the St. James siblings. “You guys nervous?”
“I’m not.” Willa flicked her wrist at her brother. “But your boyfriend here is wearing the cologne of nervous.”
“Shut up.” Abram scoffed. “You won’t be making fun of me when I drop you on your face out there.”
“You’ll do great. You were amazing on this team, Abe. Just think back to those old times and you won’t have anything to worry about.” Alex reached out and rubbed his shoulder.
“You’ve nailed this routine.” Willa agreed. “It’ll be fantastic.”
“Alright guys, it’s time.” Harley yelled over the chatter amongst the various cheerleaders.
“Good luck, you guys.” Alex hugged Willa quickly, followed by giving Abram a fast kiss. “Go entertain the school with what I’m sure is a transcendent mashup of several Top 40 hits.”
Abram and Willa left with the squad, leaving Alex alone to follow them. Just as he was passing through the door of the weight room, Alex’s phone went off, a loud screeching from the front pocket of his jeans. The cheerleaders’ loud music began to blare as he walked toward the bleachers. Reaching for his phone, he pulled it out to see the caller ID was displaying ‘Potential Emmy Walker #3’ across the surface of his screen.
He stopped right where he was, which was just off to the side of the bleachers. The phone continued to ring, not that it was heard over the music as the cheerleaders began their routine. After taking a quick glance at Abram and seeing the smile on his face, Alex searched the vast seating of the bleachers until he spotted Bridge and Mercer sitting with Faith and Kirby. The four of them were intently watching Abram and the rest of the Wolverines cheer. Soon, Bridge and Mercer glanced over and saw him at the bottom of the bleachers. With an unsteady hand, Alex waved them over to him as he went ahead and clicked answer on his phone, fearing that he would miss the incredibly dire opportunity to see if this was the woman they had been looking for.
“Hello?”
“Is this Alex Llewellyn?”
“Yes, it is.”
Bridge and Mercer were sauntering over to him when he put a hand over the receiver. “It’s a possible Emmy Walker.”
Their glares of astonishment were enough for Alex to lead them back into the empty weight room so their conversation could remain as secret as it felt for them to even take the phone call, while Abram did his best to focus on the routine as he watched his friends leave the area. Once they were safe and secure that they were alone in the weight room, Alex put the call on speakerphone so they could all hear what the woman on the other end had to say.
“Hello? Are you there?”
“I’m sorry, I’m here. I’m Alex Llewellyn.”
“I got your message.” the woman said. “You were asking about Emmy Walker?”
The three of them eyed each other with an abyss of hope between the silence among them. Alex cleared his throat before continuing on. “Yes, that’s right. I’m looking for anyone with information on an Emmy Walker that might have any connection to Armor Falls here in New Hampshire.”
“This isn’t really something I should talk about over the phone. Is it possible for you to meet with me, say Monday?”
“Ma’am, are you Emmy Walker?”
“I’ll explain everything in person, Mr. Llewellyn. Can you meet me or not?”
It was finally happening. They were already meeting Blanche later tonight at Homecoming and now they might have some sort of lead on who exactly Emmy Walker was, and what role she played in the inner workings of why Sumner decided to lose grip on his remaining hold to reality the night that he attacked them in the cemetery.
“Where are you located?” Alex said, his voice trembling a little.
“Vermont, actually, in Hartland. But it’s only about a thirtyminute drive from where you are now. Is there a coffee shop or something where we could meet?”
“The Bistro, on Seventh.” Bridge whispered to Alex, making sure to keep his voice low enough so the woman couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying.
“What was that?”
“Um, there’s a place called The Bistro here in town. We can meet there.”
“I’ll be there. See you next week, Mr. Llewellyn.”
“Thanks—” Alex was going to say more, but the woman decided to end their phone call before he could say much more.
They looked at each other, still in awe at the cycle of situations that plagued their lives. Tonight, they were finally getting some answers as to how Blanche was tied into what Sumner did the night that he visited Heartmyth and then, in just the span of seventytwo hours, they were, hopefully, on their way to finding out the enigma that was the woman named Emmy Walker.
Kirby plucked in her last earring, finalizing her look for the night. She was excited about going to Homecoming, especially with Mercer, but she was wrapped up in her rampant thoughts, a carousel of wayward feelings.
Stakes were already high enough with the meeting with Blanche that Mercer had confided in her, but she couldn’t get the note Blanche had addressed to her mother away from the forefront of her thoughts. She knew that she should tell Mercer and his friends that Blanche and her mother were in contact with each other, but she would rather die than betray her mother. Not after everything her mother sacrificed for her upon moving them to Armor Falls.
She had to talk to her. Kirby had to know why her mother was possibly aiding Blanche Baxxen and why she wasn’t going to the police about it.
“Mom.” Kirby called from her mother’s massive walkin closet that she had insisted on getting ready in. But that’s because it was flawless.
The closet had its own makeup station, a gorgeous pink vanity complete with a halo of lights and every product you would ever need to apply if you chose to do so. A small couch big enough for two resided opposite the vanity. In one of the corners of the room was a sewing machine, a chair sitting right before it for when her mother got into one of her creative fits and made gorgeous garments while in the next corner was a fabric rack that held the materials she would use to spin the fabric to her obsessive ideas. Of course, the walls spoke of her mother’s vast fashion taste, plentiful designer clothes mixed in with mounds of her mother’s own creations. And Kirby’s Homecoming dress was an Athena Wheaton original.
“Where are you, darling?” Her mother called from the second floor hallway. “Are you still in the vault?”
She momentarily rolled her eyes playfully at her mother’s nickname for the closet. As Kirby pl
ayed around with a questionable animal print vest, she said, “Yes, I’m here.”
Athena walked through the closet’s already opened double doors, smiling down at her daughter with widespread pride. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in the dress she had made for her. It was Athena’s favorite color, pink, covered in intricate, wispy lace. The dress was gorgeous from absolutely any point of view. And for whatever reason, Kirby was insisting on wearing one of her leather jackets over the dress, claiming it “completed the look” even though her mother was the obvious designer between them. Luckily, the jacket was white and matched the lace on the tight but stretchy fabric.
“You look amazing, sweetheart.” Athena admitted. “Mercer is going to pass out when he lays his eyes on you.”
Kirby was just about to open her mouth, letting her mental floodgates spill forth from the jail of her thoughts about the letter from Blanche, when the doorbell rang loudly throughout the house from downstairs.
“That’s probably Mercer.” Athena lit up. “Hurry up with your final touches and meet us in the foyer. It has better lighting for pictures.”
Any attempts at protest were halted by her mother’s rushing to answer the door. Kirby sighed as she stood up, grabbing her white clutch off the vanity. Maybe it was a sign that Mercer had shown up before she confronted her mom. With everything else going on, it probably was best if she waited to discuss the letter. Kirby decided to do just that, at least until after the meeting with Blanche happened at Homecoming tonight.
Taking one last glance at herself in the mirror, Kirby gathered her thoughts into a quiet corner of her mind and left the closet, her mother’s room, and then ultimately the second floor of the house and began descending down the stairs. Her eyes found Mercer’s within milliseconds, smiling at him as he stood midwalk between the stairs and the foyer, his mouth hanging slightly ajar.
“Kirby,” The breathiness of his voice caused a light wave of blush to cherry her cheeks. “You look...absolutely beautiful.”
“Doesn’t she?” Athena nodded in agreement, ruining their exchange in a way that both of them just brushed aside. “Kirby, you look utterly ethereal.”
“Thank you.” She responded to her mother’s biased compliment, moving as her feet, donning her mother’s vintage white and pink Chanel heels, hit the first floor’s hardwood. Sliding over to her date, she gave him a bright beam of sentiment as she lightly traced her fingers along his messy pompadour styled hair. “You look handsome as hell, by the way.” She leaned in closer, disabling her mother from listening. “Sexy, actually.”
Mercer smiled, tilting his head and clearing his throat at Kirby’s candor. Athena waved them over closer to the foyer, her daughter’s Polaroid camera in her free hand.
“Careful with that, Mom.” She pleaded as she led Mercer into the foyer. “That one is the favorite of my camera children.”
“I know, I know.” Athena rolled her eyes. “Come on, picture time!”
Both teens obliged the matron’s request rather quickly, holding onto each other in several different poses before Athena was satisfied enough to stop creating polaroids.
“Alright, Mom.” Kirby laughed. “We have to get to the dance. I’m taking a few pictures for Yearbook, remember?”
Mercer chuckled as Athena playfully slapped her head in forgetfulness.
“Right,” Athena went to the living room, a Nikon camera carrying case replacing the Polaroid one in her hands. “Here’s your pro camera.”
Swinging the strap over her white leather jacket, Kirby grabbed Mercer’s hand again, a glance flung at his gorgeous cerulean irises. “You ready?”
“Actually,” He squeezed her hand before giving her one of those halfsmiles that he perfected, from Abram, she had found out, that happened to drive her crazy. “There’s a surprise.”
Momentarily letting go of her hand, Mercer walked over and threw open the front door. Kirby ambled over and felt her jaw gain slack, opening a little when a sleek, white limo sat idling outside of her house.
“Seriously? A limo?”
“It’s not just ours. All of our friends are waiting for us, except for Willa and her mystery date. Faith and Straton, surprisingly, did join us. It’s Adelaide’s gift to us, for all the police trouble.” Mercer winced at the group effort. “I hope it’s okay that we won’t be just taking my Jeep and being alone.”
“Are you kidding? That would be a waste of a breathtakingly perfect limousine.” Kirby pecked his lips, taming her actions with her mother in attendance. “Let’s go!” She grabbed his hand and started hauling him toward the exaggerated Chrysler 300.
“Bye, Ms. Wheaton.” Mercer managed to throw back over his shoulder.
Athena grinned. “Have fun. Be careful.”
She stopped midrun and graced back over and gave her mother a quick embrace. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
She watched her daughter and her boyfriend flee from the house, her smile fading the closer they got to the luxury vehicle. Not wasting any more valuable time, Athena quickly closed the door and pulled a small burner phone from the front pocket of her dark grey blazer that perfectly went with her flowy silk, cream colored gown. She held down the first button, calling the only speed dial recipient the phone possessed. The person on the other end answered after exactly six rings, the code for it being safe for the two of them to talk.
“Blanche,” Athena breathed cautiously. She had meant to say a little more to the young woman, but she spoke candidly before the chance disappeared acutely. “They just left. Meet me at the spot in fifteen.” She nodded, determination buzzing against her pores. “I’m on my way.”
Arriving at Homecoming was a spectacle to behold, especially in a bright white limousine. There was a miniscule red carpet for students to walk, complete with a camera crew that comprised of the photography club. They were streaming the footage to a huge projector screen inside the gym, as well as acting like mock paparazzi that took pictures that Kirby would later go through and help select for the yearbook. And the president of the photography club was acting as some sort of Ryan Seacrest, interviewing people as they showed up.
When Mercer and his friends stepped out of their limo, they were bombarded with cameras, flashes brightening up their faces like a perfect Instagram filter could never accomplish. All of them were a form fitted collective of wide happy caricatures of their usually stressed selves as they got out of the vehicle. Nervous and excited, they walked the carpet very cautiously.
“And now, two more Homecoming nominees have arrived!” Photography club president Hayden Combs said with eager enthusiasm. “Alex, Abram, who are you wearing?”
“My dad’s old Armani.” Alex smiled.
“Nice!” Hayden grinned, telling the camera girl to focus on Abram. “What about you, Abram?”
“David’s Bridal? I literally have no clue.”
Alex laughed, butting in. “He’s wearing Men’s Warehouse.”
“Awesome, you guys look amazing tonight and good luck with both of your nominations. Go ahead and head inside. Have fun!”
“Thanks Hayden, you look great, too.” Abram grinned widely, grabbing Alex’s hand on the way into the gymnasium while Faith stepped up with Straton to talk to Hayden about their choice of wear for the night.
Mercer and Kirby were the last of the friends to walk the carpet, Bridge going just after Straton and Faith. Hayden came up to them next, both of them awaiting the questioning that they knew was inevitable.
“Mercer Meadows, how’s it going?” Hayden gawked.
“It’s going great, Hayden.” Mercer smiled back. “And even better now that I’m able to ditch that sling I’m sure everyone saw me wearing recently.”
“I noticed that! Well, I’m sure it’s very welcoming to be back to your old self again.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“And with you is the newest addition to the yearbook staff,” Hayden bore his brightest smile for them as Kirby stepped u
p. “As well as the overall new addition to Westbrooke’s senior class. What are you guys wearing tonight?”
“I think I’m wearing Hugo Kloss.”
Kirby cackled, Hayden looking like he didn’t get the gravity of what she was laughing at.
“That would be Hugo Boss.” She told the camera, along with Hayden and his crew before looking back at Mercer. “Your dads must be cringing back home.”
“I didn’t inherit the fashion sense.” he admitted candidly.
“You two are adorable.” Hayden laughed. “And you, Kirby?”
“I’m wearing Athena Wheaton.” she nodded. “My mother is a designer and my dress tonight is just a show of her talents.”
“Amazing! Everyone inside, remember to tell your parents if they want something done like what Kirby has on tonight, to keep her mother in mind!” Hayden kindly told the camera that streamed to inside the gym. “Alright, you guys, head inside and remember to vote for king and queen after the Court Karaoke event, which is just about thirty minutes away.”
Once Mercer and Kirby walked inside the double doors of the gymnasium, awe overcame them both. The night’s theme was diamonds and ice, the whole setting covered in articulate frozen decorations and cubic zirconia detailing. The gym had been devastatingly transformed in the best way possible. It was like they were trapped inside an artic palace beneath the cold waters of Antarctica. And it was overwhelmingly exquisite.
“Holy Met Gala.” Mercer scoffed.
Kirby’s shoulders rattled in small rotations as laughter tickled the back of her throat. “You skewer Hugo Boss’ name but Met Gala you know perfectly.”
Grabbing his hand, Kirby led him over to the gathering near an ice sculpture of a cherub where their friends had decided to congregate.
“This place is a madhouse.” Faith scoffed. “Amazing turnout. I’m so glad the Homecoming committee took my suggestion for the theme.”
“Diamonds and ice was your idea?” Kirby smiled.
“Might help my votes.” She winked.
“Just so you know, I’m still against singing ‘Love Is An Open Door’ tonight.” Straton sighed. “I might be a pretty decent shirtless waiter at a gay bar, but a singer, I am not.”
“It’s about the connection,” Abram smiled, clutching Alex’s hand even tighter than he had been. “Plus, it’s not like you’re going to win. We got this.”
“Carla Solaice sounds incredible,” Faith told their group. “There’s talented competition tonight. Nothing’s set in stone.”
“Well, I’m gonna put in a request with the DJ. This whole couple’s competition thing is too mushy for me.” Bridge said, on the hunt for a guy to dance with while he strayed from his hoard of friends.
Faith was about to take Bridge’s cue and drag Straton to the dance floor when her eyes slithered over a friend, a grin smearing across her neon painted features.
“Oh my God.”
Everyone turned to see Willa walking into Homecoming, looking like an absolute model in a meringue tinted dress, a smile matching the vibrancy of her Chanel ensemble. And Hugo was hanging off her arm.
Willa and Hugo sauntered up to them, warm exchanges evident on their faces. “Hey guys.”
“You kept this a secret on purpose, I’m guessing?” Faith nudged her boyfriend playfully.
“He asked me to.” Straton nodded. “So they could keep the reveal a secret.”
Hugo gave his wildest smirk. “How could I say no to a date with such a gorgeous proprietor?”
Throwing her head back, Willa howled. “You’re too much, Hugo.” She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. “And I love it.”
“Okay, no more of that while I’m around.” Abram laughed, looking at Willa with astonished eyes. “You look beautiful, Willa.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I guess this is why you didn’t join us in the limo.”
Willa agreed to his openended question presented as a regular statement. “Hugo took me in his BMW.”
“My BMW.” Straton corrected.
“Enough chatter, let’s dance!”
Leading him by the hand, Willa guided Hugo to the massive dance floor. Faith and Straton followed them shortly. Kirby would have loved to go with Mercer and shimmy to the baseline of the latest Calvin Harris track, but since it was just them standing with Abram and Alex, she had something she needed to discuss with them. But she needed Mercer gone to enable the dialogue.
The perfect excuse to get Mercer away from her much needed exchange with his friends appeared through the crowd in the guise of Harley Krcmaric, who had noticed her brother’s presence and had stopped to talk to him and Willa.
“Why don’t you go dance with Harley?”
Even his friends were a little shocked by her proposition. Mercer still gave her his best raised eyebrow.
“You want me to dance with my exgirlfriend?”
She shook her head at the stereotype where she automatically had to hate her boyfriend’s ex without question or explanation. If she didn’t like Mercer so much, she would have delivered a lecture.
“Mercer, do you still have romantic feelings for Harley?”
“Of course not, but we’re still friends. Well, acquaintances.” Mercer shrugged. “I mean, we have history.”
“Then why would I care? It’s fine, just go catch up.”
“Why are you sending me away all of the sudden? What am I missing?”
Thankful that she thought swiftly under pressure, Kirby tapped her camera, hanging conveniently around her neck. “Just need some candids of the nominees for the yearbook. I’ll cut in shortly.” Kirby smiled at him comfortingly, making sure to add a wink to ease Mercer’s surely lingering doubts.
“Alright,” he said, content with her acute analysis. Leaning in, Mercer gave her a quick kiss, softly skimming her lips with his own. “I’ll leave you to your work.”
Her smile faded as he vanished from their area just off the great dance floor. When she turned back to Alex and Abram, they were fixing their outfits and flexing their muscles with their best poses for the pictures they assumed she was about to start taking.
“Okay, where do you want us?” Abram inquired.
“What are you talking about?”
“You told Mercer you needed candids of the Homecoming nominees.” Alex repeated her previous words.
“I do,” she assured them, ensuring her boyfriend’s best friends that she hadn’t lied to him. “What makes pictures candids is that you’re not looking into the lens when someone takes the photo. But that’s not why I sent Mercer away.”
Dubiety spread among the two young men. “What do you mean?” Alex asked.
“We need to talk about Straton.”
“Straton?” Abram didn’t like hearing confessions involving the guy that was dating his boyfriend’s sister. “Why Straton?”
“Because he’s telling Faith about the whole Blanche thing that’s happening tonight.”
The very questioning glances that Alex and Abram wore grew with savage intensity. They all took a second to stare over at Straton and Faith, who were dancing closely together as the song shifted to a much slower pace, talking amongst themselves quietly.
“Why do you think that Straton would do something stupid like that?” Alex wondered.
“That’s exactly what he’s doing.” Kirby nodded, scoffing at their nonchalant musings about her findings. “I’m a photographer, what I do is watch people and if you think Straton is too conscious heavy to tell Faith everything, you don’t know him at all. I promise you, Straton is telling her every detail of our meeting with Blanche.”
“Dammit.” Abram swore.
“We need to go ahead and bring Willa into this.” Kirby sighed.
“Absolutely not.” Abram shook his head vehemently.
“Abram, your sister is already tangled up in this. Sumner sent that picture directly to her.” She shook her head. “It’s time to bring Faith and Willa into the Slayer Society.”
“Hey,
I take offense to that.” Abram huffed.
“Yeah, I’m not too keen on that label either.”
Kirby laughed a little at how personally they were taking the moniker. “Chill, you guys. It’s not like you guys are the ones who killed someone.”
Thankfully, Kirby decided to turn away and stare at Faith and Straton then, allowing Alex and Abram the time to stare at each other, still glad that Kirby didn’t know the whole story about the attack in the cemetery.
Out on the dance floor, Straton in fact was overcome with guilt and had decided to tell Faith everything about Blanche. He had to tell her. After making the mistake of lying about his friendship to Sumner, Straton couldn’t risk ruining his newly reconciled status with Faith by keeping something of this caliber to himself.
“Faith, I have to tell you something.” Straton started, their slow dance continuing as he spoke. “Something important.”
Intrigue pulsed back against her hazel eyes. Faith kept her arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck. “Alright.”
“I don’t want there to be any secrets between us anymore. Which is why I want to tell you that tonight—”
“There’s a meeting with Blanche Baxxen.”
He looked at her like she had suddenly started speaking in tongues. “What? You know?”
Faith gave him a smirk in response. “Of course I know. My brother isn’t nearly as quiet as he thinks he is when he’s on the phone with his friends. That, and he leaves his phone laying around too often. So tell me, what’s happening exactly?”
“It’s happening here at Homecoming.” he continued. “We’re meeting her here so she can explain what happened when she met Sumner.” Straton sighed. “I’m also sorry, about not telling you about me and Blanche.”
“I’m sorry, you and Blanche?”
Straton, overcome with befuddlement, scoffed. “You didn’t know that part?”
“Straton,” Faith detached from him and stared back at him expectantly. “Why don’t you just start from the beginning and tell me everything you know about Blanche Baxxen.”
A little later, it wasn’t long until it was time for the Homecoming Court’s karaoke event. The music from the DJ had stopped and the sing along had begun. Faith and Straton were up, the second to last performers of the Court nominees.
While they were singing, Willa and a loosely following Hugo, found her brother and his friends standing away from the gathering of the student body and keeping to themselves.
“Willa, are you—”
“Okay?” She said, interrupting her brother when they came upon them. “No, I’m not okay because I’m just now finding out about this Blanche thing.”
“What?” Abram looked at his friends, then Kirby, before his eyes rested once more on his sister, wondering how she had found out. “How did you—”
“Faith.” Willa admitted. “Straton told her everything before they went on stage. She found me and Straton told us everything. Abram, what’s going on?”
He looked back to his friends for, well, he wasn’t sure why. But when his eyes went back to Kirby’s smirking facade, she just scoffed and said, “I told you.”
“Should we?” Abram pondered to his friends.
“Aren’t we forgetting how dangerous telling people about this is?” Bridge shook his head, eyeing each of them so they could actually see his throbbing vein of concern.
“Kirby’s right.” Alex added, nodding at Abram. “Abe, they’re already involved.”
All of their focus was shifted when they saw Sterling enter Homecoming, sauntering through the wide oak double doors of the gym. As a collective, they left their conversation for another time and Abram led them over to the girl, whose eyes were expanding as they got to her, startled at the large quantity of their group.
“Sterling.” Abram nodded, his own way of greeting her. “Is it time?”
“Almost.” She reacted positively. “We better get going.”
While they had been talking and meeting with Sterling, Faith and Straton had wrapped up their song, cheers meeting them at the song’s completion.
“And last up for the Court Karaoke are nominees Alex Llewellyn and Abram St. James.”
The crowd immediately turned to where they were huddling at the doors of the gym. They clapped for them to storm the stage and begin singing their song of choice.
“What do we do?” Alex inquired to his friends.
“You two are going to do your song.” Mercer told them. “We’ll take care of this.
“Don’t you think a crowd is going to be a little noticeable while we sneak out?” Sterling urged. “Go do what you have to, but it shouldn’t be this many of us meeting with her. Who are these people, anyway?”
“Mr. Llewellyn, Mr. St. James,” The teacher on stage bellowed into the microphone. “We’re waiting.”
“Go.” Mercer stated. “I’ll go with Sterling.”
It didn’t take long for Abram and Alex to disappear into the sea of students and make their way towards the stage. When they were out of range, Kirby turned back to her boyfriend, adamancy lathering her usually supple features.
“I’m not letting you go alone.” she scoffed. “I’m coming with you.”
“And what are we supposed to do?” Willa asked, still holding onto Hugo’s hand while he stood silent.
That’s when Bridge happened to look away from the group as Alex and Abram made their way through the excited applause and onto the stage, catching the eyes of Ben as he looked out. Ben saw him too, lingering at the start of the hallway that led to the strength and conditioning room as well as the various offices of the coaches and the locker rooms.
Bridge cleared his throat, sending his friends an audible signal of his soontobe departure. “Yeah, I gotta go.” He shook Mercer playfully. “You’ve got this, right?”
As Bridge left them for unknown pastures, Straton and Faith made their way to the rest of the group.
“Is it happening?” Faith gestured to Sterling. “I’m Faith, by the way.”
“Sterling.” She smiled at her, eyeing her brother evenly. “We’re trying to minimize the quantity of this meeting.”
“Well I’m going.” Straton demanded. “I’m not letting my sister go without me.”
“Fine.” Mercer interjected. “The four of us should go then.”
“Straton,” Faith went to argue, but he stopped her in seconds with his own words.
“I’ll be fine. Just stay busy and dance.”
“Come on.” Willa let go of Hugo and grabbed her best friend’s hand. “Let them do the hard work.”
The two girls left for the dance floor to watch Abram and Alex perform their song as they readied their already previously chosen track to sing along to.
“Be careful, dude.” Hugo told Straton, following his date to watch the upcoming finale to the Court Karaoke event.
“Okay.” Sterling said, nodding at her brother, and then at Kirby and Mercer. “Did anyone set up a ladder or something to help us get to the roof?” When she was met with vacant stares, her mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
“It’s not like we knew what to do.” Mercer huffed. “It’s not every night we do something like this.”
“Let’s just go.” Straton stated. “We’re wasting time discussing what to do when we should just be figuring it out as we go.”
The four of them did their best to conceal their exit from the gym in pursuit of finding Blanche and learning what she knew.
Bridge heard the opening bars of ‘Keep On Loving You’ by REO Speedwagon as he made his way down the hallway, away from the dance floor, rolling his eyes at Abram and Alex’s song choice. He only knew the song because both of them had an obsession with music from the eighties. But Bridge didn’t have time to listen in on his friends’ performance because he was following Ben.
He looked around the corner and saw Ben standing at the end of the hallway, a smirk transfixed on his face as he walked backwards to the boys’ locker room.
&n
bsp; “Really?” Bridge said to himself, smiling mischievously as he made his walk over to the boys’ locker room, which, of course, was empty save that for the ever sexy Ben Magnus. “Locker room fantasy?” Bridge went up to his boyfriend, standing in front of him and crossing his arms in feign inspection. “Someone’s been watching porn.”
Laughing for a split lapse of time, Ben pulled the younger man toward him, wrapping his arms around his athletic frame. “I’ve been seeing a high school student, I might as well give in to the scenario, shouldn’t I?”
That’s all it took for them to start kissing, removing each other’s clothes in between heated breaths and softened moans. Time seemed irrelevant to them as they quickly undressed one another. Both men felt completely free as they relished and ravaged their bodies, making love to each other like it was a habit, like it was something that they’d do for the rest of their lives together. Unbeknownst to them though, their time with each other was destined to be short lived, especially since someone was just about to stumble upon their secret sexual rendezvous.
Neither Bridge nor Ben heard the person who had discovered them in the locker room until they screamed. Bridge was actually in the throes when he turned to see an openjawed Paige overlooking their tryst.
“Oh my God!”
Letting go of Ben’s ankles, Bridge worked on getting his clothes together and throwing them on in a blur of scrambling to be clothed. Ben was working at light speed to get off the bench they had been using and already had his shirt and slacks on when he faced his fiancé.
“Paige, I can explain.”
“Don’t give me that cliché shit, Ben.” Paige dared a brief glance at Bridge, disgust on her face as he finished getting dressed, his outfit back to resting on his bones once again. She looked back at Ben then. “You’re sleeping with a kid in high school? And he’s underage!”
“I’m so sorry, Paige.” Bridge felt embarrassment and guilttinged tears starting to descend down his face. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” She put out a hand. “I let you into my house. I gave you a roof over your head, fed you, and you’ve been screwing my fiancée the whole time!?”
“Paige.” Ben pleaded with his tone rather than deciding it wise to move. “It’s not...I actually have feelings...it’s not just some fling.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Paige yelled, shaking her head violently, her blonde shoulder length hair following her berserk movements. “This can’t be happening.”
“I’m so—”
There was no chance for Ben to offer up an apology due to Paige issuing a hard, calculated slap across his stubbleslathered face. Even Bridge recoiled at the commotion, feeling like he had almost felt the sting of her hand on his own sizzling skin. Ben didn’t move except for the act of grabbing his cheek and staring back at Paige in raw awe.
“I can’t believe you, Ben.” Paige admitted, vital vigor vibrating her vocal chords. “Here’s your ring.” She ripped it off her finger and tossed it at him, hitting his chest and bouncing off, skidding across the dirty floor of the locker room. “And I was even carrying around this stupid mockup of what our wedding invitations could look like to show you tonight.”
Reaching into her blazer’s inside pocket, Paige pulled out a piece of paper, her own personalized stationary, and crumpled it up before throwing it in Ben’s face as well.
“Good riddance, Benjamin.” Paige concluded, a deadlock stare in her eyes. She looked back over at Bridge, delivering a devilish glare of death his way, her eyes pulsing and saturated with severe, explosive spite. “I hope you don’t think you’re off the hook. You’ll get what’s coming to you, you can be sure of that. Go to hell, the both of you.”
Sobs started to spill out of Ben with ease when Paige stomped out of the locker room and pummeled the hallway with her stilettos, Ben standing in place as sorrow built a fortress within him like some sort of toxic disease, ready to rupture fatality into his bloodstream. Bridge didn’t even look at Ben, not at first. Instead, he picked up the engagement ring and the balledup paper, returning to him and holding them out for him to take.
“Ben, I…” The older man ceased his cries long enough to make eye contact with Bridge, an action the latter was thankful for after their dynamic had just drastically been altered. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s because there’s nothing left to say.” Still somber and visibly distraught, Ben cradled Bridge’s face and planted a finale of a kiss against his lips, pulling away from him and taking the ring from Bridge’s waiting hands. “Nothing but goodbye.”
“Ben—”
“I’m sorry, Bridge. For everything. I just hope you know that…” He had to stop himself from choking on his diction. “That this, us, was the most real thing I’ve ever had.”
Bridge felt his own emotions catching up with him. “What’s going to happen now?”
“You’ll go back to your friends, your life.” Ben laughed in frustration at how he wished he could do the same, even though he knew there was no chance of that happening. “As for me, it’s all over.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I have expectations to fulfill.” he screeched. “My parents expect for me to get married, to a woman, inherit my father’s psych center, sire some biological kids…”
“Ben,” Bridge latched onto his hands like his own were Ben’s gloves, attempting to provide some much needed warmth to the palms opposite him. “You’re your own person, not some dreamtoy mannequin for your parents to manipulate and direct. You have choices.”
“You don’t get it.” He stepped back, away from Bridge’s reach. “We have different destinies, Bridge. We’re both meant for opposing outcomes. Maybe all we were meant to be to each other was a beautiful distraction.”
“How am I supposed to let all of this go, everything that’s happened between us?” Bridge didn’t know how to just let his relationship evaporate into the ether. They’d tried before, and here they still were, still sneaking around.
But even Bridge had to admit that a relationship made up of hushed meetups and secretive sexual encounters couldn’t last forever.
“We’ll see each other around,” Ben tried to smile, but it faltered and looked incredibly forced. “I love you, Bridge. I honestly do.”
Unable to say the same with the devastation around them, Bridge tried to keep from crying and just jutted out his hand that still held the scribbled on stationary. But Ben pushed his palm away.
“Keep it. I don’t need another reminder of what I’ve done.” Bridge finally felt his tears begin their exit from his dark orbs as Ben gripped him closer for one more kiss.
“Goodbye, Ben.”
“Goodbye, Bridge.”
They let their stares linger until Ben turned around and made his exit from the locker room, leaving Bridge there alone with Paige’s paper. But he couldn’t mourn the passing of his relationship for too long, due to the fact that the stationary, which was just an offwhite color with a design in the bottom corner, looked instantly recognizable. Bridge’s eyes flew open, knowing where he’d seen it before. And that’s when the music thumping into the Westbrooke gymnasium ceased as Abram and Alex finished their song, following the cue from Bridge’s heart.
It was written on paper he’d carried between his fingers before. It was the exact same paper that had sent him and his friends to Sumner’s house to retrieve from the room he had stayed at underneath Arclan Asylum.
Paige’s words hissed against his ribcage, a cacophony of anxiety startling his heart. You’ll get what’s coming to you. Bridge was coerced into living with her by Adelaide’s heavy spirited suggestion, but what if it had been a skillfully planned ploy, a scheme of crafted malevolence? What if Paige was their stalker and had been antagonizing them this entire time?
Abram loved the look on Alex’s face when they got on stage as the surprise song began to play. ‘Keep On Loving You’ was another one of their favorite eighties ballads, and it perfectly descr
ibed how they were both feeling. So they sang the song with ease, Alex looking over at him and vice versa while they sang along to the karaoke instrumental.
After it was all over, they were met with wild jeers and a few shouts of encore as they descended from the stage. Thalia Cobbins took to the mic then as Alex and Abram faded into the crowd.
“Alright, everyone, you have five minutes to vote for king and queen before we announce the winners.”
The student body briefly applauded for the principal as the DJ spun the music again, a mindless loopy beat filling the room. Alex and Abram shoved their way out of the now dancing crowd and found a clearing void of their fellow classmates.
“Where is everyone?”
Alex’s openended inquiry was forgotten when Willa and Faith came up to them, the former’s date trailing them expectantly.
“They’re not back yet.” Faith crossed her arms hesitantly. “Shouldn’t they be back?”
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Alex added.
“Stay here.” Abram told his sister, and by extension, Hugo. “We need to see what’s taking them so long.”
Alex and Abram started for the exit of the Homecoming dance, Faith still planning to join them as they went to leave the gymnasium. Abram looked behind them, seeing that Bridge had joined his sister, looking devastatingly forsaken. Unfortunately, neither of them would get the chance to find their friends because right before they approached the main entrance door, it burst open with police officers led by the dangerously intense Detective Alston Dagger.
The teens stopped their trek out of the building, watching as Principal Cobbins marched over to the detective, visually upset at the police department’s sudden intrusion at the high school’s social function.
“What is all this, detective?” Thalia demanded explanation from him.
“This entire building is being put on lockdown.” Dagger nodded, gesturing for the accompanying officers to set up a perimeter around the gym.
“What? Why?”
“Because we have reason to believe that Blanche Baxxen is on the premises.”
As Dagger ordered the DJ to cut off the music and took control of the entire room at Homecoming, the friends shared worried glances, instantly wondering how they were going to explain the fact that their friends, all of which Dagger was already beginning to notice was missing from their collective, were trying to meet with the very fugitive that the police were very keen on capturing.
“This was stupid. We’regonnagetarrested stupid.”
Mercer’s words reflected how every one of them felt as they climbed the stairs that led to the roof of the gymnasium. They had found an access hatch at the back of the gym outside that brought them to an emergency stairwell, which then led to the roof. It had taken them a little while to think to trace the perimeter of the gym for a way up, but luckily they were still making the best of their time. All of them knew that Blanche must be waiting on them beyond the stairwell since the lock to the door of the roof access had been busted and left open for them to enter without issue. The throbbing of the music from within the gym seemed to vibrate against the walls as they made their way up the stairs.
The moment finally came, where they reached the top of the stairs, a closed door keeping them from the breaking ground of the roof.
“Everyone ready?” Straton prompted.
“I want to see Blanche. No more stalling.”
Sterling took charge of their group, pushing the door open with a hard, gruntearning push. Straton quickly followed his sister without hesitation or doubt, but Mercer and Kirby hung back for a couple seconds.
“He already asked, but are you ready?” Kirby was still new to being included into Slayer Society matters, but she knew that this meeting with Blanche was a big deal. Smiling on a miniscule scale, she let out a hand for him, a gesture to try and alleviate his anxiety.
Mercer mimicked her little grin, reaching out and graciously taking her hand with his own. “Ready and willing.”
Hand in hand, Kirby and Mercer walked out onto the roof, catching up to Straton and Sterling, just walking out onto the roof. Once they were all together, they kept looking around, since Blanche was nowhere they could see.
“Blanche?”
Straton nudged his sister. “Really? Calling out into the open night? Do you want this to end like Scream?”
“She should be here.” Sterling scoffed, concern and caution seeping through her scared tone.
“Maybe she’s running late.” Mercer shrugged.
“Then how do you explain the lock, Mercer?”
Without warning, the music from the Homecoming dance below them ceased to pulse at their feet.
“Why did the music stop?” Kirby questioned as they all turned around, facing the door they had just entered through.
And that’s when Sterling started to scream enough for all of them.
Hanging from the top of the roof door’s platform, dripping with fresh slick crimson blood, was the lifeless body of Blanche Baxxen.
17
ONE OF YOU