by Amo Jones
Carter looks to me. “You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah, positive.” He pulls out a piece of paper, squiggles down the directions, and then slips it across the table to me. “It’s about an hour and a half drive inland. The conditions are rough. It’s called The Myriad. It’s a water hole and is literally in the middle of nowhere. You have to park your car and then follow the manmade trail into the forest. You’ll see everyone’s cars, so it should be fine, but you don’t get cell phone service out there, so I’d suggest you take someone with you.”
“Carter, I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know.” Tatum chews her lip. “What about mountain lions?”
“This isn’t my first camping trip. I have my dad’s compass too. I’ll be fine. I’m experienced in the forest like you are at shopping in Barney’s.”
“Okay, fine,” she exhales. “Me and Tillie will meet you there.”
The lunch bell rings and I gather up all my trash, placing it onto my tray.
“Madi!” Bishop yells out to me. I ignore him, but it’s obvious I heard him as the whole cafeteria pretty much stops what they’re doing. Tatum looks at me, but I ignore her too. Walking to the other side of the room, I dump my tray into the garbage and push through the doors.
Fuck him. `
My phone vibrates in my pocket just as I hit my next class.
Tillie – Hey, chica! Are we still on for this weekend? How are we dressing?
Right. Halloween. Between everything else, the drama with Bishop, camping, and wanting to keep reading The Book, I forgot about what we’re dressing as for Halloween.
Me – Still a go! You’ll ride with Tatum. Dress wise, I’m not sure. I’m guessing Tatum will want to go shopping. What’re you doing after school?”
Tillie – Today?
Me – Yes.
Tillie – I can come.
Me – Okay, we’ll pick you up from school.
I haven’t been to Tillie’s school before. Never had a reason to. But suddenly, I want to see it. There’s so much to Tillie I still don’t know, but she fits in with Tatum and me like the missing puzzle we need. The day goes slow, and I pass my science test, even though I didn’t study for it. I’m walking out of class at the end of the day, when Tatum catches up to me, clutching her books and out of breath.
“Shit, bitch, slow down next time.” She huffs.
I giggle. “Maybe we should start exercising.”
We both pause and look at each other, then start laughing. “Maybe not.”
I nudge her. “Hey, we have to pick up Tillie. She wants to go shopping for this weekend.”
“Yes!” Tatum says, rolling her shoulders like she’s gearing up for war.
I stop. “What? Now you want to exercise your shoulders?”
“Of course,” she mutters. “Dad’s black card is about to get a workout.”
Walking out the front of the school, we wait for Sam to pick us up. Sam is my dad’s other driver, but she’s more my driver when Dad is away and takes Harry with him.
Since yesterday, I’ve ignored Nate and his wanting to give me rides to school. I have nothing really to say to them, and I don’t trust any of them, even less since they kidnapped me. Which Tatum still doesn’t know about.
We slide in, and Sam smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “Have a good day?”
I shrug. “Could have been better.”
“But...,” Sam prompts, knowing what I’m like. Sam has been our driver since as long as I can remember. She’s a fifty-two-year-old African American woman who has practically raised me since I was a child. Her and Jimmy both did. Jimmy is almost sixty, and I’ve been trying to get them together for years. If you ask me, I’d say they’ve been sporting a bit of a crush on each other for years now, but neither of them wants to act on it.
Tatum interrupts, “But she has boy trouble.”
“Oh,” Sam quips, pulling out onto the street. “What kind? The kind I’ll need a shovel and an alibi for, or the kind I should make pie and threaten to cut his balls off until he forgives you kind?”
I giggle and Tatum laughs. “No, neither. I don’t want you making pies for any of them.”
“You be careful, baby. I know you think you don’t care and you shut all your feelings out, but one of these days, it could bite you in the ass.”
“What?” I snort, leaning back in my seat. “Like I might start caring too much?”
Sam shakes her head. “No, baby girl, more like you might not be able to ever switch it back on. You’re too young. Live, feel, have sex—don’t tell your father I said that—but don’t ever not feel. That’s what makes you Madison.”
“I feel, Sam,” I whisper, looking out the window. I can see Tatum staring at me out the corner of my eye, no doubt brewing her hundred and one questions she’s going to slam me with. “I just try to choose where I direct my energy and who deserves it.” Sam knows about my past and what happened there. She’s the only person walking this earth who knows, and that’s how I like to keep it. The only reason she knows is because I came home drunk from a party one time and spilled everything to her.
“Hey.” Tatum nudges me. “What’s up with you spending so much time in the library anyway?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always loved books.”
“Nuh-uh,” Tatum says. “There’s something else.”
Sam looks at me with a smile. “Madi has always liked books. We used to read her everything when she was a little girl, and she was reading chapter books when she turned six. Smart girl, in some aspects.”
We pull up to the house and I slide out. “Thanks, Sam. Can you tell Jimmy that me, Tatum, and Tillie will be home for dinner tonight?”
“What about Nate?” Sam asks, just as I’m getting out of the car.
“Fuck Nate.”
“Madison Maree Montgomery!”
“Oh, you did not just triple-M me, Sammy!” I spin back around to face her with a grin on my face as I walk backward toward the house. “You take that back!” Triple-M is my initials. I despise the fact that my name starts with an M all three times. I think it was my mom’s way of punishing me just a little bit more. I used to joke about that when she was still alive, but now that she’s dead, the thought just makes me feel guilty.
“Don’t swear at me, little lady!” Sammy doesn’t like swearing, and her hackles go up anytime someone cusses around her. That’s probably why she and Jimmy never worked, because the Italian has a foul mouth. Which is one of the many reasons why I’ve always loved him. He sometimes swears in Italian, and for a long time when I was younger, we would both swear in Italian around Sam so she didn’t know. “Scopare questa merda!” Sammy wouldn’t know what the hell we were talking about. It was funny.
I walk inside with Tatum on my tail, and head into the kitchen, opening the side cupboard to get out the car keys. I take the GMC keys, and we both walk out to the garage.
“You know...,” Tatum starts, as we both slip into our seats. “How was Bishop in bed?”
I laugh, firing the car up. “I don’t kiss and tell, Tate.”
“Ohh, sure you do.”
I shake my head and laugh, pulling out of the long driveway. “I really don’t.
Pulling up to the curb of Hampton Beach High, Tatum whispers, “I haven’t been here in a while.”
“It’s not that bad. I expected a little more on the rough side.”
Tatum shakes her head. “The people are a lot on the rough side, though.”
Tillie comes walking out of the front gate, clutching her backpack, with another guy walking beside her.
“Hotness at four o’clock,” Tatum announces, eyeing up Tillie’s friend.
I shove her. “Don’t be a gawker.” But then I run my eyes up and down his body. “Totally hot though.” He has a shaved head, tattoos mapping out all over his neck and arms. His dark eyes and olive skin have me thinking that he’s a little Spanish? Maybe? But then again, he has fair features. Sharp nose, a jaw that could match Bisho
p’s.
“You just told me not to gawk, and then you go and drool all over the center console?” Tatum shoves me.
Tillie opens the back door and cranks down her window. “Girls, this is my friend Ridge, who is annoying, by the way,” she announces, evil eyeing him.
Ridge grins, and damn all hot bad boys from the wrong side of the tracks. He flashes his deep dimples and pearly white teeth at Tatum. “Naw, I’m not annoying.” He looks up to Tatum and me. “She just needs to be extra careful.”
Tillie rolls her eyes. “I’m always careful. You’re just overbearing.”
“I’m Tatum.” She waves from the front.
He looks at her and nudges his head. “Sup.”
I smile. “I’m Madison.”
He tips his head at me. “Okay, got to go now.”
“Who is that?” Tatum purrs, as we pull away from the school. “Please tell me you’re hitting it.”
“I am.” Tillie nods. “But it’s completely mutual, and we have no interest in ever going further than great sex with each other.”
I look at her in my rearview mirror. It’s not that I don’t believe her. It’s just that... yeah, I don’t believe her. You don’t become friends with someone who looks like Tillie and then who looks like Ridge, and not want to make babies together.
“Really?” I answer. “How does that work? You know... without becoming attached in some way.” Not that I’m clingy, but even I struggle with separating my feelings with sex. It’s something I’ve always struggled with. I’ve never been able to be one of those girls who could have sex with a guy and not at least feel something for him, even just a little bit. And even without knowing Bishop, I just don’t think it’s in me to do that. Except now I definitely feel something for Bishop. Hate.
“It just does. Ridge and I have known each other since we were kids. We’re probably a little more experienced than most people our age, but that’s because we’ve been sleeping together for a very long time.”
I pull onto our highway and head toward the mall. “And what about when one of you wants to sleep with someone else? Won’t the other get mad?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s seriously just sex. I know it’s hard to understand for most people, and I know girls say they’re cool with this kind of situation and then they get attached, but I really am cool with it. He’s had lots of girlfriends since we started sleeping together.” She shrugs, and I watch her in the rearview mirror, trying to catch her bluff. “Sometimes he cheats with me, or sometimes he doesn’t. Either way, I get laid.” She winks at me.
I shake my head and laugh, pulling into the parking lot. “Well, he’s hot, just saying.”
“You want his number? Certain he would be interested,” Tillie says, shrugging and pushing open her door.
“What?” I scoff, getting out and walking around to the front as we start toward the mall. “I didn’t mean as in I want a taste. I just mean as in he’s hot.”
“Well, I do!” Tatum says, linking her arm with Tillie’s.
Tillie laughs and then stops when she realizes Tatum is serious. “Oh no, no, no, honey.” Tillie taps her hand as we walk into the cool air-conditioned mall. “He would eat you alive.”
It’s funny. At first glance, you would think Tatum is the slut of the group, not me or Tillie. Not saying we’re sluts, but we’re the most sexually active out of the tripod.
I burst out laughing just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Seeing it’s an unknown caller, I shoo them into the closest clothing store and swipe my phone unlocked.
“Hello?” I’m still laughing when the word leaves my mouth.
“Riddle me this,” an automated voice answers on the other end.
“Pardon?” I ask, taking a seat on one of the café chairs. “Who is this?”
“I am neither dead, nor alive, and I’m not something little Madison can hide. But you will be dead by the time this is done. The timer starts now. The games have just begun.”
“Hello? This is not funny—” The line goes dead, and I look down to my phone, my mouth slightly open. What the hell was that about?
“Madi!” Tillie yells out from one of the clothing shops, waving a dress around.
Oh no.
“Coming!” I call out, looking back down to my phone. Who even uses that spooky voice, and who the hell was that? Some stupid kid playing with their parents’ phone.
Yeah, some stupid kid who just so happens to know how to block their caller ID.
Standing to my feet, I walk toward the clothing store and push my phone back into my pocket, along with my feelings about that call.
“What. Is. That?” I ask, pointing toward the outfit Tatum is brushing down in front of the mirror.
“What?” She laughs like a hyena. “This is Harley Quinn!”
“I know it’s Harley Quinn, but why are you wearing it?” I giggle, taking the costume Tillie chose for me from her.
“Because I wanna find me my puddin’.”
“Oh Lord.”
She starts flicking her hair around like the lunatic she is and I shake my head, looking down at the... “I am not wearing this.”
“Whyyy?” Tillie moans. “It’s cute!”
“Yeah, for a girl who wants her cookie hanging out.” I give it back to her and flop down onto the customer chairs. “I can’t even think about what I want to dress as.”
“Well, you have to go as something!” Tatum exasperates, walking back into the changing room and slipping out of her outfit.
“Yeah, well....” I look to the left and see a skeleton-style masquerade mask. “Hold that thought.” I walk toward it, standing on my tippy-toes to unhook it from the mannequin. Running my thumb over the embossed skeletons and lace, I smirk. “This I can work with.”
“That’s a little creepy,” Tatum mutters from over my shoulder.
“Well, duh, it’s Halloween, and I know this may come as a shock to you, but you’re supposed to dress creepy, not like a skank. We save that for the weekends our boyfriends break up with us.” I smile at her; adding that last part was to soften the blow. Tatum isn’t a whore or a slut, but she is a bit of a skank. But aren’t we all? As much as I love jeans, hoodies, and clothes that cover my butt, sometimes I like dressing up too.
Tillie laughs. “Well, I’m going as a cowgirl, Tatum is going as Harley Quinn, and Madi is going as a ballroom zombie! We’re all a match made in hell.”
We start laughing, and I walk away from them, going through the clothes to try and find a dress or something to wear with it. After the fifth failed attempt, I push one of the dresses back onto the hook and spin around. “I can just wear a black dress with this.”
“And suspenders!” Tatum yells as we walk out of the shop.
“No, no suspenders.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Tatum, we’re going to be in the forest. I’m not dressing like a skank in the forest. By the way, who’s going to set up our tents?” I ask, stopping outside a little café and dropping my bag down on the table. Tatum and Tillie take a seat. “Good question. Maybe you should ask Carter since he will be there early.” One of my many problems. But he could set up our tent, and it’s not an invitation or anything. But he is a male, and sometimes they expect something in return.
“I’ll text him.” I take a seat and look through the menu.
“So... Bishop, huh?” Tillie wiggles her eyebrows. I peek up at her from the menu.
“We don’t talk about him,” I reply blandly, before going back to searching between BLT bagels and potato skins with sour cream.
Tatum pours her a glass of water and giggles. “Yeah, he’s a no-go zone as far as conversation starters go with Madi.”
“But I haven’t even had a chance to talk about it!” Tillie scolds like a burned out toddler wanting the last cookie.
“Nothing great.” I drop the menu as the waiter comes to our table. “Can I get the potato skins, chicken tenders, and a Coke?”
“Why?” Till
ie questions, after ordering her food.
“Because it happened, and then I found out it was all some sick fucking....” I pause, looking up at the waiter, who had to be around our age, sporting floppy brown hair and makeup that could give Tatum’s a run for her money.
He notices me watching him and laughs, brushing me off. “Oh, girl, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Yeah, okay.” I smile at him, and he rolls his eyes, scribbling down our orders before leaving.
“Sick, what?” Tatum taunts, taking a drink of her water while smirking around the rim of her glass.
“I don’t know, but it wasn’t real. None of this is real.”
“None of what?” Tatum asks, leaning back in her chair. I really wish she would stop asking so many fucking questions.
“I don’t know, Tatum. I’m lost and confused.”
“They’re dangerous, Madi,” Tatum whispers, leaning forward. Tillie pauses and watches our exchange closely. “Think about it. Khales went missing... no one knows where she is or what happened. All we know is that she dated Bishop.” She leans back into her chair.
“So? That could mean nothing,” I reply smoothly.
“And it could mean everything,” Tatum retorts calmly.
I shrug. “So what? I’m staying away. I don’t even know what happened between us.”
“Nothing,” Tillie announces out of nowhere.
“What?” I whisper. It’s the first time I have heard her say anything since bringing up this conversation to begin with.
“Nothing happened between you. It meant nothing to him.”
“And how do you know that? I mean, I know that, but how do you know that?” I ask, leaning forward and pouring another glass of water as the waiter comes back and places our food on our table.
“Just a guess. I mean... none of those guys had ever had a girlfriend before,” Tillie says casually, taking one of my potato skins. “The only one who ever did was Bishop, and look how that ended.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t mean it in a mean way, just in a real way.”
“It’s fine,” I whisper, picking up some fries and dipping the crispy, deep-fried goodness into the sour cream. “I just wish they would forget about me.”