by Jessica Kapp
“Wednesday? What if it’s too late?” I sit up. “What if Parker doesn’t last that long?”
“He will,” Kenny says. “On Monday he’ll get a mild injection of the drug, right into his bloodstream. Tuesday they’ll increase the dosage and will have him do some minor tests. The third day is when the action happens. That’s when he’ll have enough of the drug in him to really do some damage. I’m going to convince him to break down one of the exit doors, and I’ll chase after him. Adrian, Burk, and Gavin can wait out back in the van.”
I hate how much he seems to salivate about watching the drug’s effects on Parker, but I have to admit, his plan might work.
Adrian sounds wary. “The Flat House will sound an alarm if Parker escapes. They’ll be on high alert. There’s no way the van will get out of the lot without being searched.” He stuffs another marshmallow in his mouth and holds it in his cheek.
All eyes shift back to Kenny. “That’s a good point, Adrian. We’ll need a second vehicle.” He looks around as if he’s waiting for volunteers.
“We can use my car as a decoy,” says Craig. “I’ll squeal my tires and drive in circles to distract them.”
Gavin nods. “With eyes on the car, the van should be able to get away.”
“Ry can ride with me,” Craig adds. “Hell, I might even have him drive.”
“Mary, you stay back and protect the girls,” says Kenny. She giggles when he winks at her. As dangerous as this mission is, I want to be there when Parker gets out. Part of me doesn’t think I deserve to go, but I hate the idea of staying behind. I try to catch Gavin’s eye, but he’s fixated on the fire.
“We’ll need a signal,” says Adrian. “Something that lets us know they’ve surrounded the car so we can leave.”
“Easy. We’ll honk the horn.” Craig says.
“What will they do to Ry and Craig if they’re caught?” I ask.
“They can just say they were messing around. The back lot is for deliveries,” says Gavin. “It’s pretty open, perfect for figure eights. Kids have been caught racing there, so it won’t look too suspicious.”
“What if they stop the van?” Paige asks. She looks petrified. Any Euphorium in her system has metabolized.
“That’s one reason we need to keep anyone from the Center away from the Flat House,” Kenny says. “They’ll be safe here.”
Gavin looks at Sasha and Mary first, then his eyes drift to me. “Kenny has a point,” he says. “Adrian and I have IDs. The worst that can happen is they haul us to jail.” He holds my gaze long enough to make heat rush to my face. “I’m not going to risk losing any of you.”
For a moment it’s just us, but when I look away, I see Kenny staring at me, and my body tenses again.
“It sounds simple enough,” says Sasha. “But Kenny, how are you going to convince Parker to break the door? Tell him it’s a strength test?”
“No. I’ve got a better idea.” He stands, and from my angle, it’s like he’s rising out of the fire. “We’ll tell him she’s waiting for him outside.” He points at me. Gavin looks confused, and Paige and Ry turn to each other. Their bodies seem to shrink into one. Kenny’s grin is devilish. “He won’t be able to resist seeing the love of his life. Will he, Tabitha?”
There’s a pop as one of the logs releases a pocket of trapped air. As much as I don’t want to look up, I do. Gavin’s face is taut. His head stays down as he tosses the stoker in the fire and walks away. Ry and Paige are huddled into one another, avoiding my eyes.
So much for keeping secrets.
It’s too quiet for me to leave without anyone noticing. I feel eyes on my back as I get up to search for Gavin. He’s leaning against one of the horse stalls. The light is dim, but it’s brighter than the campfire. All the questions he’s collected on his walk into the barn show on his face.
I don’t know where to begin. Gavin starts the conversation for me. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I was waiting for the right time, but then…I just…” Guilt needles my insides, and my shoulders sag. “I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier. Parker and I…we were good friends, then there was this kiss.” Gavin’s eyebrow shoots up. “It’s not what you think. He caught me off guard. I don’t think of him like that.”
“But he thinks of you in that way.” I can see he’s not mad, but his body is tight, his arms folded.
“Yeah, but last I checked I was in charge of my emotions.”
He doesn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches like it wants to.
“So we’re not going to save him because he cares about me?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Gavin holds up his hands in defense. “Look, maybe we moved too fast. I don’t want to get in the way of anything.”
“Or maybe you’re overreacting.” Still no smile. “Parker and I are friends. When we lived at the Center, he wanted something more.”
“Did you?”
“Yes and no.” It feels like a lame answer, but it’s the truth.
His eyebrows push together.
“It felt like I didn’t have a choice, that we were only interested in each other because we were both there. I told him when we were on the outside I’d reconsider. If there was anything there, I wanted it to be real, not forced. I wanted to find someone based on compatibility, not circumstance.” Gavin’s guard is down and I seize the opportunity to press my body into his. “And I did, Gavin. I found you.”
He embraces me and lets out a sigh. The air filters through my hair, warming my neck.
“I don’t want to get in the way. Are you sure this is what you want?”
The answer comes out easier than I expected. “I’m sure.”
Chapter 19
That night, my dream is so vivid even the pain feels real. My shins are covered in scratches, and the bush I’m hiding behind claws at me every time I shift. I hear the sprinklers kick on and I try to shield my body with leaves. The spray hits me anyway.
I’m wet and uncomfortable. Even though the SUV is gone, I don’t want to move.
My body tenses when the front door creeks open. I catch a glimpse of a girl skipping down the porch steps. She looks a little older than me, maybe seven. She spots my bike leaning casually next to the stair rail. I wanted it to look like it belonged here.
“Mommy!” she squeals. “Did you buy me a new bike?”
Her mom shouts back a sharp “no” from inside the house, but the girl isn’t deterred. She examines the bike, running her hands along the seat and peering into the basket. She rings the bell, and I want to call out for her to leave it alone, but I’m paralyzed with fear. My mouth opens. Instead of speaking, I start to cry.
“Who’s there?” The girl looks around. Her hair is thick and frizzy, and she wipes a clump away from her eyes.
I shift in my hiding spot and the bush rustles, sending my heart into a panic.
Footsteps approach. “Hello?”
I tuck myself back into the house, but she moves the leaves aside, peering in with big brown eyes.
“What are you doing in our bushes?”
I have no choice but to crawl out. I wipe any remaining tears before I stand, only to realize my hands are dirty, which means now my face is too. My eyes drop to my dress, fiddling with the tear in the hemline from where I snagged it.
Ashamed and embarrassed, I don’t answer her.
“What are you doing in there?” There’s a hint of excitement in her voice. “Playing hide-and-go-seek?” When I look up, she’s smiling and I feel my mouth twitch like it wants to as well.
Our heads turn in unison when her mom comes onto the porch.
“Mommy, look! I found a girl in our bushes.”
“What on earth!” The woman storms down the stairs, grabbing my chin and turning my head from side to side. Her breath smells like sour milk. “Get inside. Both of you.” She pushes me up the stairs when I don’t move fast enough.
She slams the door behind me and I freeze in the middle
of the room. The lock clicks.
“What’s your name?” she says, her voice noticeably calmer than before. My hands tremble as I turn to face her.
“Tabitha. Tabitha Jane Rhodes.”
“Are you lost?”
“N-no. M-my mom. She was taken.”
“Taken?” The woman reaches for my hair, sliding the red strands between her fingers. “Do you know why?”
“A man came out of a car. She told me to run.”
The lines on her forehead stack up like she’s filing information into the creases. Then, her eyes flicker with life, and she smiles. “Would you like something to eat?” She ushers me into the kitchen along with her daughter and rips open the tops of two chocolate puddings. My mouth waters when she drops spoons on the table. “Eat this while I make a few calls.”
“This is the best day ever,” the girl says, taking a gigantic bite. “I made a new friend and I get chocolate.”
We laugh, and I forget my fear for a moment.
Her mom talks excitedly to whoever is on the phone. “How much did you say?” When I glance over, she steps out of the room.
I’m halfway done with my pudding when she reemerges. She grabs something from the cupboard and washes it down with a glass of water. Then she walks over to the table and squeezes my hand. Her fingers are cold.
Our eyes meet. “Did you find my mom?”
“No.” She pushes her lip out apologetically. “But, uh, do you happen to know if your father is home?”
I shake my head. “But my mom says he’ll be back in three weeks.”
“Maybe she can stay with us!” the little girl says, scraping out the last bit of pudding.
“Not tonight, dear. She has somewhere to be.” Her finger runs down my jawline. The nail is sharp, but I force myself to smile. Maybe we’re going to the police station, where they can track down my mother and the mean man who took her.
She hurries us outside and into her car, humming a happy tune while she drives. But when we park in front of a plain gray building, my heart sinks.
There are no police cars in the parking lot and no officers inside.
The mom whispers to someone at the front desk, and a man in a lab coat comes out.
“Per our agreement,” he says to the woman. He gives her an envelope, and she clutches it against her chest like it’s a bandage she’s been waiting for—something to stop the bleeding.
The man extends a hand to me, and I take it. At the same time, the mother grabs her daughter by the wrist. The little girl tries to wave but is yanked out of the room before I can say goodbye. The doctor tugs and I obediently follow. We go through a set of double doors, and he asks me to stick out my finger. He pricks it and sends a drop of blood through a machine. A paper spits out the other side, and he examines it with a smile.
He gets me a glass of water before handing me a pill. “Take this,” he says.
“What for?”
“It’ll help you feel better.”
My mother taught me to respect adults, so I do as he says.
• • •
I don’t wake up afraid, just perplexed.
The dreams come in sequences, and I’m always six. They play out through my eyes, like a recording, or a memory. My head hurts and I press my temples as I sit up in bed. The room is dark, and as my eyes adjust, I see bunk beds and hear the snores of heavy sleepers.
I grab the medication Gavin got me, and head to the kitchen for some water. I take one of the pills, but instead of crawling back into bed, I tuck the bottle in my pocket and sneak out of the room. I’m too alert to sleep, and if my headache progresses, I’m not going to want to be around anyone—not even Gavin.
The cool morning air bleeds through the barn doors, and I walk out to the driveway to breathe it in. The sky has a thin veil of light. It must be dawn.
I find myself walking toward the trail where I can sort out the haunting images from my dreams. Is this my mind’s way of processing everything that’s been going on? The reality of my life? The uncertainty of my future? And if so, what do they mean? Are the bushes symbolic of me hiding from those around me? Am I keeping myself hidden from Gavin?
I pause to answer my own question and realize I’ve made it halfway to the waterfall. I keep going, assured that the movement is helping my mental state, although the headache shows no sign of letting up.
I want to trust Gavin. He hasn’t given me any reason not to. He’s secretive at times, but I’m no better. I didn’t tell him about Parker as soon as I should have.
Thinking about Parker makes my head throb even more. Am I rushing into things with Gavin? Should I give Parker a chance? Refusing to let myself start down another emotional path, I press on. This isn’t about Gavin or Parker. It’s about me. But when I try to look inside myself, it’s like I’m peering through a window with an obstructed view. I just don’t know what’s in the way.
The waterfall booms in the still of the morning. I didn’t intend to swim, but now I want to jump in and wash away the bad dreams.
The water is so cold it burns. My head pulses with pain, but I force myself to stay submerged until I’m too numb to feel much of anything. My arms are pale and my hairs stand on end. I pull myself onto the bank, dressing quickly. Just as I’m about to leave, the chatter of birds stops. I wring out my hair and look up. Wings flap as the birds abandon their branches, either ready for breakfast or spooked by something in the forest.
Then I see a familiar face emerge from behind the waterfall.
Kenny stayed the night at the barn, and he followed me here.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted to apologize.” He comes closer. “For outing you last night.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I rub my arm to erase the gooseflesh.
“About Parker. Ry tells me you two were close.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Water drips from my nose, and Kenny takes off his jacket. It’s thin but dry. I want to put it on, to feel some sense of warmth right now, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of making me feel better.
“I don’t need your coat,” I say with more venom than necessary.
“Yes, you do.” He throws it at my face and I catch it. My hands shake, betraying my words. When I try to get around him, he blocks my way and I zero in on his jaw, imagining the sound of it cracking.
“Just hear me out. Five minutes, that’s all I need,” he says.
I wouldn’t be so cold if I could run back to the barn. If he’s going to make me listen, I might as well be warm. I put on the jacket with disgust on my face. But on the inside, I’m terribly grateful. My shiver slows and I sit on the rock, wishing the sun would hurry up and do its job.
He tries to sit next to me, but I don’t move until it’s obvious he’s going to sit regardless. I slide to the very edge of the rock, as far from Kenny as possible.
His shoulders sag. “Why don’t you like me?”
“I don’t trust you.” My teeth clatter when I speak. “Now what do you want? I’d like to get back to the barn.”
“Is this because I cut your neck?” He tries to lift my hair, and I tuck my head into my body like a turtle. “Look, Tabitha, I’m sorry I followed you. I didn’t know you were going for a swim. I’m not trying to make you feel uneasy.” He sighs. “I know you’ve been through a lot—and I know my dad’s to blame—but don’t hate me because of his choices. I just want to help. Honest.” He stands and my body relaxes. I shift toward the center of the rock. He points in the direction of the barn. “I saw you leave this morning and thought if I got you alone, then maybe you’d hear me out. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
Kenny turns to walk away and part of me feels guilty—a very small part, but enough to make me question my own judgment. Have I been wrong about Kenny? What if he’s the only chance we have to get the rest of my friends out?
“I wasn’t going for a swim.” He stops and looks back at
me. “I came here because of my headache.” The admission feels like a small token. Not worth much, but enough to let him know I’m not full of hatred all the time.
“Headache?” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. I think I see the corner of his mouth twitch, and I look away, ashamed I’m judging him again.
“The headaches started when I ran out of my heart medication.”
“You ran out?” I glance up to read his face. His eyes are lit up with concern. “Why didn’t you say something? I can get you more.”
“Gavin already did…only my headaches aren’t going away.”
Kenny runs his hand under his chin. “Let me guess, he got them from Cherry?”
How did he know that?
“Yes,” I say, my voice small. He chuckles to himself. “What’s so funny?”
“Cherry can be…how should I put it? Conniving.”
Kenny comes back to the rock and extends a hand, and while I don’t like the way my stomach curls in on itself at his touch, I don’t trust Cherry any more. He helps me up and explains while we walk.
“Cherry has one goal in life: to win Gavin back. She’ll stop at nothing to get what she wants. It’s a way of life for her. She wants flawless skin: she takes a pill. She wants her hair to grow: she takes a pill. She can’t take a pill to get Gavin back—but she can give you pills, can’t she?”
I have an urge to throw up, rid myself of whatever it was I took this morning.
“What do you think she gave me?”
“Who knows, but I’m sure it’s not to make you prettier.”
“But Gavin tested them. He made sure the pills were legit.”
“I don’t mean to knock your boyfriend down a notch, but he doesn’t have much of an education. His science skills are limited. I’m sure Cherry has contacts that could get certain things to show up so the pills you’re taking match the ones you really need.”