by Rebel Hart
Is this bad luck? Or a sign…the hint that I’ve been waiting for. No matter where I run to, no matter how hard or fast I go, I can’t get away from them. And now I might die out here with them. I keep pushing forward, preparing myself for the possibilities of whatever I am racing towards.
I think I start to recognize some of the things I’m passing. I’m getting closer to where I started from. Or at least I think I am. But as I approach the spot that I am certain I ran off from before, Theo and Emmett are nowhere in sight. I can tell now that the voice calling out to me is Theo’s. He’s yelling my name over and over, and it sounds like it’s right next to me. But I can’t see him anywhere. I look around in the darkness, unsure of what to do next.
The aches and pains burn through my shivering body and I’m growing delirious. My eyes pound with the need for sleep, but I am so hyped up on adrenaline, I wonder if it will ever be possible to sleep again. My body is just as conflicted as my heart is.
Then I notice a strange splashing up ahead, and I realize it’s coming from just beyond the drop-off. I carefully approach it, praying that the current doesn’t overpower me. I get close enough to see that the splashing is coming from a pair of hands. Two pairs of hands. I drop to my hands and knees and crawl forward, finally getting far enough to see both Emmett and Theo have fallen over. But they’re each clinging to their own shard of debris poking out from the ledge that shrinks underneath the flooding waters.
I really am right back to where I started from. I have no choice but to decide. I look down at their desperate faces, both looking half convinced that they’re about to die. Why did it have to be so dark? Why did I have to get lost? Why couldn’t I have escaped this and stumbled back out onto the road? I would’ve kept running all the way home, never looking back again.
But here I am. With no way out and both of them pleading for me to save them. It occurs to me that even if I am able to choose between them, I still may not be able to help. And I might die out here regardless. I hope that being faced with that will give me some sort of clarity. Some sort of nudge to what I should do. But I know now that I am all the way back here, I can’t run away from this again. I can’t leave them both to die like this.
I look around, thinking I have to make a plan for how to do this before I can do anything else. A clinking noise a few feet away catches my attention. A chain is caught on one of the old cars nearby and is rattling against the rushing, rising waters. I race over to it, unwrapping it from the twisted piece of metal it clings to. I return to the edge and look over and they’re both still miraculously dangling there.
“Help me, Ophelia! Please!” Theo cries, nearly falling as he tries to reach for me.
Emmett is oddly quiet, grappling onto what looks like a bumper sticking out of the mud. I wait for him to join Theo in calling out to me. But he says nothing. He just looks up at me in between his attempts to hold on. The waters rise and I know if I’m going to try and save one of them, it has to be fast. A few seconds more and they’ll both fall to their deaths or get swept up in the rushing flood. And the more time I waste in indecision, the more I risk dying out here with them.
What would my mom do? She and Brendan are the only good, honest people I have left in this world. Who would they want me to save? I think back to what my mom said about something always seeming off about Emmett. She wanted to trust and believe in Theo’s ability to change and give him a second chance. Does that mean that I should too?
You’re out of time, Ophelia. I look over to Emmett. His face softens with acceptance as if he knows what I have to do. And he’s okay with it. Just like when he told me to run to Theo. He just wants me to make it out of here alive.
“Ophelia!” Theo sobs, slipping further down towards the put below.
Without wasting any more time, I swing down the chain. I hear crashing waves all around as he climbs and the moment he claws his way back onto solid ground, I turn to take off running again. This time, I’m smart enough to stop and look around for the bobbing beam coming from Theo’s flashlight. It’s trapped among a cluster of debris. I race over, snatch it up, and take off. Not even caring if he’s following behind me. I did my part. I made my choice. Now I have to survive this and get the hell out of here.
By the time I reach the darkness I got lost in before, I am nearly swallowed up by a gushing stream of water. I manage to grab onto something sticking up and use it to climb to slightly higher ground. The rest of my escape is a blur. All I know is that eventually, I find my way back out onto the road. My feet stomp across the flooding pavement. A few of the dips in the road are so flooded I have to swim through them, using passing sticks and logs to propel me forward.
As the lights of Jameson finally come into view up ahead, the rain stops. The downpour grows silent and all that’s left is the sound of trickling water all around. I never thought I would be so happy to see this fucking town again. I hate it with every ounce of my being, but in this moment, I’ve never been happier to see anything. That is until I finally arrive home. I burst through the door and crash into the arms of my mom, still sopping wet.
I drag her down to the ground, crying the whole way. She holds me and rocks back and forth until I calm down. Not asking any questions or demanding I tell her what happened. She just takes me in and lets me get it all out.
Chapter Thirty
BOOK 3
As the band wails its way through Pomp and Circumstance, I am amazed that I am actually sitting here. I think back on how many times over this last year of school that I was certain I was going to die, and it seems unbelievable that I actually survived every time. Even the bout of pneumonia that I had after the flood couldn’t kill me.
I smile and nod my way through the ceremony, mostly just feeling impatient to get to the pizza party Mom and Brendan have promised me once it’s over. I zone out through the speeches and the assembly line we form to collect our diplomas. The only person I would be anxious to see here would be Bridgett, but I already know she was planning to skip this whole thing. She was too ready to take off to whatever comes next.
As another round of music blares and we all excitedly fling our caps up into the air, I think how funny it is that this seems like such a crucial moment to so many high schoolers. Every teenager laments their way through those four years, convinced they’ll never make it out alive. But none of them can really appreciate this in the same way I and everyone around me can. At WJ Prep, it is a very real fear that we’ll never make it out of the walls of this school. Not everyone has.
The thought makes me all the more eager to bound through those double doors with the crowd of students around me. I flip a bird over my shoulder as I pass through, back out into the fresh, free air. I did it. I actually lived. I survived the Elites of Weis-Jameson Preparatory Academy. And I can honestly say their mission statement is true. Nothing could have better prepared me for whatever life has to throw my way after this.
I make my way out onto the school lawn, watching the groups of hugging and crying friends bid each other farewell. I listen to them congratulate each other and shout out in excitement. I marvel at how shockingly normal it all looks. Like any other high school graduation. Is this all it took for everyone here to become ordinary people? Is it just the status of being a student at WJ Prep that makes them all evil and crazy?
But then I notice the fear lingering in the haunted eyes of the younger students glaring at their older siblings with envy. They know what I had to learn the hard way. Emmett and the rest of the Elites of our graduating class may be gone. Malcolm may be gone. But someone new is waiting in the wings to rise and unleash the fury of the nightmare they’ve been silently living in. It’d be nice to think that with each new death of a round of Elites, the whole hierarchy could just crumble and be gone forever.
But that’s not how human nature works. One soul will be so hurt and twisted from the wrongs done to them that they’ll be waiting for their chance to seek revenge. They’ll claw their way up, doing to others
what has been done to them all along. I do feel sorry for those left behind and everyone that will come after them. But it’s not my problem now. I’m done shouldering the burden of WJ Prep and Jameson.
I scan the crowd, looking for the smiling faces of my parents. I spot my mom and Brendan waiting patiently for me under the shade of a nearby tree. They wrap me up in hugs with the perfect blue sky and vivid green grass all around us.
“Can we please get out of this hell hole now?” I beg in laughter.
“You bet,” my mom winks, scooping me to her side as we walk to their car.
A couple of hours later we’re at home, digging into the boxes of delivery pizza scattered across the dining room table. We ordered way too much, but I think they’re both just so happy I’m okay that they went a little overboard.
“I can’t believe it’s really over,” I say with a content sigh after I’ve polished off another helping.
“I can’t believe any of it,” Brendan grunts.
“I can,” my mom groans. “I’d go back and live through it all in your place in a heartbeat if I could. But I’m not surprised. WJ Prep has always been a living nightmare. I just wanted so badly to believe that it could be different for you.”
I see a look of guilt flash through her eyes, prompting me to take her hand into mine. “You couldn’t have known,” I assure her, squeezing her fingers tight.
“Just promise me if you ever find yourself in that kind of trouble again, that you’ll just tell us right away,” she begs. “I don’t care what you think will happen, or if you think we can handle it. Tell us.”
“Deal,” I nod.
But truthfully, I don’t know that telling them would have helped. The forces at play in this town are so much bigger than them. I learned that quickly. And the scary thing is, I know they would have done anything to protect me. Which is likely what would have ended up getting them killed. Miraculously, that never happened. And now that I’m on the other side of it, I don’t know if I’d change anything.
“No regrets,” I add.
“What?” my mom laughs in disbelief. “I can think of one or two regrets I would have if I were you. None of it was your fault, of course. You were just doing your best, but…what if we had never come here at all?”
It’s the thing I’ve been wishing for so long now. That we had never come to this stupid place. The moment Vivian and Bernadette first came speeding up in their fancy, expensive car, knocking me over and warning me about what was to come, I wished I could go back home. But then who would I be? What kind of person would I be right now if I had made it through high school without everything that’s happened?
My old idea of home is distant and foreign. I realize now that this is all home was all along. Laughing and eating pizza with my parents. With Brendan, who I now refer to as my real dad. My mom happily goes along with it, probably wishing that’s what we had done all alone.
“So, where’s Coach Granger headed to now that he’s retired?” my mom asks with a mouth full of food.
“Florida, I think.”
I never told anyone about what I overheard Coach and Jada talking about. I didn’t even tell them I had heard their accidental confessions of killing Malcolm. He helped me at times when no one else would. I figure I owe him my silence. Anyway, he’s a good man at heart. He’s about to leave here forever, and I don’t imagine he’ll ever commit another murder.
I can’t say the same for Jada who decided to stay here and take over for him, coaching the girls’ track team. That’s the thing about this place. It makes people do all sorts of things they would have never dreamed of or thought they’d be capable of doing. I don’t really care if she becomes some lone vigilante of WJ Prep though. If the Elites and everyone else here can play dirty, why rat out someone who stands a chance at giving them a taste of their own medicine?
Soon, it will all be behind me. And I have never been more ready to get out of this town.
A couple of months later, I have managed to cram all of my essential possessions into a few small boxes that are stacked up next to my door. Mom and Brendan assure me they’re eager to get out of Jameson too now that they know the truth about everything that’s happened here. Whatever I haven’t packed up is donated or sold. And before long the room is empty. Except for one remaining thing that I’m not quite sure what to do with.
Sitting in the middle of the empty room is Marissa’s diary. I smooth my hands across the cover, almost feeling tempted to open it up and start reading again. But I stop myself. I already know how the story ends. Marissa becomes one of them. Not by choice really, but as a means of survival.
I wish she could have seen other ways out. I wish it were just some novel where any number of other endings would be possible. But I know that’s not the story written across the remaining pages, and maybe that’s why Emmett never wanted to read it. Would it have been better for him to read firsthand of how his mother used to be before Thomas and his world changed her? No, probably not. Because that person is long gone, and what’s left was too sad of an ending for him to stomach. I don’t think I can handle it either.
I tuck the diary underneath a loose board in my closet. Maybe one day some scared and lost newbie to Jameson will stumble across it and see it as a warning. I don’t know that there is any right way to respond to the wrath of the Elites, but these words could do something for them. Maybe one day someone will find a way to change things around here. It’s a nice thought. I say a little prayer over the book that it could be a catalyst for such a thing just before closing the loose board back down over top of it.
I take one last look at my room. For all that’s happened within these walls, I don’t feel attached to this place at all. It was a refuge in the hell of Jameson, but really, we only lived here for one year. I’ve learned to look beyond places or things for a sense of security, safety, and belonging. I have found those things deep within myself and in the arms of my parents.
“You ready?” Brendan asks from the doorway with a proud smile.
“More than ever.”
My mom comes up behind him and we each grab a box to carry down to my car. I may have thought the hardest part of all of this would be surviving, but as I hug my parents goodbye, I realize I was wrong. Leaving them behind here is the hardest thing I’ve ever been faced with. The reality of it causes me to break down crying.
“I hope those are happy tears,” my mom says as she smudges her thumbs across my wet cheeks.
“Promise me you’ll leave here as soon as you can,” I beg through my tears.
“We’re going to be fine,” she assures me. “Don’t you worry about us.”
I peel myself away and let out a deep sigh, but it’s harder than I expected to actually get in my car and drive away.
“You’ll call us when you get there?” she asks. I nod and start crying again. “Enough of that. Everything is okay now. And not only do you have your first day of classes to prepare for, you have that new job waiting for you.”
I was determined to make my way to the school in California, my top choice, without Theo’s help. Even though everyone kept saying it would be impossible, I scoured the city’s job boards relentlessly. Nothing feels impossible to me anymore. And my persistence paid off. I managed to find a part-time coaching gig at a community center. They had been wanting to expand their after school athletic programs and had never been able to offer track as an option before.
I completed a couple of phone interviews and a video chat, the whole time trying to hide my desperation for the job, so I didn’t scare them off. Without that job, my chances at making it through my first year in California would have seemed dire. So much so that I might have had to settle for a different school. Which is why it was such a relief when they finally agreed to hire me.
I try to focus on my excitement for everything to come, but I still find it hard to leave my parents. They finally shuffle me off into my car, giving me constant reassurance that they’ll be okay.
&nbs
p; “This is crazy,” I laugh at them through my car window. “I have wanted nothing more than to get out of here, and now I can’t seem to leave.”
My mom smiles in a way that makes me believe that everything really will be okay. I know they’ll make it out of here soon. But if I don’t leave now, I might not. I’ve learned the hard way to never underestimate what this town could throw at you any given second, and I won’t feel safe or convinced that I really am finally free until I am several states away.
With one final push from them, I take off. Once I start driving, I don’t stop. I feel like a scared family fleeing a house full of poltergeists in the middle of the night. I don’t check my rearview mirrors, and I don’t stop for anything. For many miles, I am convinced that some part of Jameson is waiting in my backseat. The moment I glance back, it could jump out and kill me.
But that doesn’t happen. By sunset, I am zooming out of Massachusetts for good. I have already warned my parents that any visits will have to take place somewhere else, or they’ll have to come to me. I am never stepping foot back in that state again, and definitely never getting anywhere near Jameson ever again.
The next day, I am hit with a wall of survivor’s guilt. It haunts me with each passing mile. I wonder why I was the lucky one to make it out and not Lily. What if Malcolm would have decided to leave? Vivian seemed to become a normal, happy person when she made a new life for herself in New York. Would he have managed to do the same if he could have just made it out of Jameson? I have to accept that I’ll never know.
As I drive, it’s impossible not to think of Emmett. My heart breaks in a new way each time the memory of him washes over me. All first loves seem big, important, and magnificent. At least that’s what people say. But I feel certain that what we shared would be considered deep and meaningful by any standard, young or old.
Sometimes I worry that soulmates are real. Because if they are, I’m convinced he is mine and that I will never know that kind of love again. How else could I have loved him after everything that happened? No matter how I doubted him in the end, I continued trying to love him in every way I could well beyond what anyone else would have been capable of.