Jaded

by Tijan

  Tatum must've remembered Braven because he shut up.

  Chet shook his head as he reversed and drove south. "It's the full moon, man. Tatum's weird tonight and I swear—he hasn't done anything tonight, like alcohol or anything else. That's just him."

  "He'll get a beat down if he keeps it up," Bryce muttered under his breath.

  He sounded tense. I shot him a questioning look and asked quietly, "What's up with you?"

  Bryce shrugged, but started to tap his foot against the floor. A nervous movement. Bryce rarely showed any moments of nervousness. I slid over and rested a hand on his knee, stilling his leg.

  "Hey, hey," I murmured, soothingly. "What's wrong?"

  Bryce turned back from the window, glanced at Chet, who was pointedly watching the street ahead, and murmured, "I'll tell you later."

  I searched his face, but sighed, "Okay."

  Bryce cupped my cheek and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, meant for reassurance. It sparked into more and we both pulled away a little breathless.

  "Sorry, man," Bryce drawled to Chet, who shrugged it off and pulled the car over.

  "Here's your stop." Chet turned around. "You both have flashlights?"

  Bryce and I waved them in the air and climbed out of the car.

  As Chet drove back the way we'd just come, I asked again, "What's up with you?"

  "Nothing."

  "You said that you'd tell me. What's going on?"

  "Nothing," he bit out. "I…just don't ever walk in this town, okay?"

  "Huh?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Like ever?"

  "No," he breathed out in irritation. "At night. Don't walk around this town at night, alone, and dressed like that."

  I grinned and asked smoothly, "Did you just call me a slut?"

  "What? No." He shook his head. "It's not even about that. Just…listen to what I said. Call before you do something stupid like these girls."

  Walking over to him, I slid my arms around his waist and looked up. "For one thing, I know what goes bump in the night. I'm not exactly naïve about stuff." Call me jaded. "And two…you know that I'd call."

  Bryce relaxed and wrapped his arms around me. He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Face to face now, I grinned in anticipation and dipped to meet his lips.

  Bryce met me and opened his mouth. I slid my tongue against his and we both groaned.

  He cursed and rested his forehead against mine, "We have to look for Mena."

  I untangled my legs and jumped to my feet. "And Leisha. We're looking for both of 'em."

  Bryce groaned and swore. "Girls." He made it sound like an insult, but I didn't take it as one.

  Bryce led the way into the narrow trail that moved down the steep incline to the river's bank. The trail veered up from the river's edge a few times, but it usually circled back to parallel the river. During the daytime, the trail was gorgeous. At night, it was another scary place. The brush was thick enough to hide someone if desired. We needed to illuminate as much as possible, but our flashlights didn't penetrate some of the thickest stuff.

  When I tried to step towards some particularly dense foliage, Bryce yanked me back.

  "No," he only said to my glance.

  We continued up the trail. We met a few homeless on our path, but they only watched us warily and didn't say anything. They sat off the trail and underneath a tree or brush.

  Bryce asked about Mena and Leisha. No one had seen them.

  Twenty minutes passed before I started, "So…"

  I saw the tension enter Bryce's shoulder as he waited.

  "Can you be nice to Mena?"

  "Why?" he clipped out, uncaring as he swept his flashlight around a rock.

  "Because you said she was weird in front of everyone."

  "So?"

  "So…that's kinda—I like Mena."

  "You shouldn't."

  "I do, so be nice to her. Okay?" I snapped out.

  "Whatever."

  "Bryce."

  "I said whatever. I don't like her," he argued.

  "You don't like her brother and that's just going to Mena."

  "No," Bryce said shortly. Firmly. "I don't like her. She's weird. She looks at you weird. So does her brother."

  "You don't like Steele because I slept with him."

  "No. You screwed him. You didn't sleep with him. There's a difference. And it's not because of that."

  "Right," I snorted in disbelief.

  Bryce stopped and turned to look at me. "I don't like that you were with him, yeah. It's not about that, though. He's off. Can't you see it when you look at him?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Like he's not totally right. He's weird."

  "Can you define weird?" I said tiredly as Bryce started back up the trail.

  Bryce shrugged again.

  "Fine. He's weird. Mena's weird, but I like Mena and I don't have a lot of female friends."

  "You're friends with that Leisha chick."

  "Leisha's like a puppy. She's not a real friend," I retorted.

  Bryce chuckled. "Hope you don't describe me that way."

  I grinned. "Well, some people really love their pets." In gross and totally disgusting ways.

  Bryce snorted.

  I grabbed the back of his pants and stopped him. "Are you going to be nice?"

  "No," he clipped out. "I'm not going to pretend to like someone if I think they're fake. She's fake."

  "You won't even be civil?"

  "No, Sheldon. Drop it. I don't ask you to be nice to my mom."

  "Your mom's a bitch."

  "So is Mena, you just don't see it." Bryce argued, but stopped abruptly.

  I walked into his back, but Bryce snaked an arm around and caught me so I wouldn't fall back.

  I was right behind him, so I couldn't see anything. When I tried to peer around, Bryce shifted to block my view.

  "What are you doing? Why'd you stop?"

  Bryce didn't say anything. He just held me behind him. He had both arms wrapped around me.

  "Seriously, Bryce. Move," I ordered.

  He coughed and it seemed to strangle him.

  "Bryce?" I asked, quietly. "I want to see."

  He wouldn't let me.

  "Bryce, seriously. I need to see." My voice sounded a little panicked now. Slightly shrill.

  Nothing.

  I started to hit his unmoving back. "Bryce." My voice sounded weak now. "Bryce."

  "Let's go back," he whispered, hoarsely, and started to walk backwards.

  Awkwardly, I stumbled backwards. I wanted to see, but he still wouldn't let me.

  "Stop!" I cried out. "What is it?"

  "Sheldon, let's go. Let's go back to the street. Come on." Bryce turned finally and it was enough.

  I sprinted past him, but a leg tripped me and as the ground rushed up to me, a silent scream wrenched from my throat.

  I landed beside the leg and I saw the shoe.

  There was smeared blood on it and the leg was black and blue, bruised.

  "Oh god." My voice was ripped out of me. It was weird, like from another body. I felt weird. I felt…I wasn't really there, but I was there. I was far away, but I was too close to tear my eyes away.

  A body lay in the bushes and I stepped forward.

  Bryce said something behind me, but I couldn't hear him. My back was turned to him, but I saw him speak. I saw his mouth open and close and open again. He was saying a lot of stuff to me, but I didn't hear it. I don't know how I knew he was talking. My back was to him.

  I looked inside the bushes and it was Leisha.

  My hand froze as I lifted one of the branches out of the way, but I saw myself bend down and pick something up.

  It was an envelope.

  I held it in my hands.

  Bryce was talking to me again, he was right beside me. He stopped talking when he saw the envelope, when he saw what was written on it.

  I didn't move again for a very long time.

  Chapter 15


  Bryce and I sat at the end of the ambulance. The police had called the paramedics because I started to shiver uncontrollably. Bryce had hugged me to him, but it hadn't helped. I just kept shivering. One of the paramedics said it was shock and he had checked to make sure Bryce was alright too.

  The flashing lights highlighted the terrain. It was ugly and pretty at the same time.

  We weren't allowed to call anyone so it was another hour before the guys parked beside the police cars and ambulances.

  Corrigan gestured for everyone to stay in the cars while he walked over to us.

  "Hey," he murmured, hands stuffed in his front pockets. His eyes skimmed over me and Bryce. He swore and slumped beside me while Bryce stayed on my other side. "So, who was it?"

  I turned mute again.

  Bryce answered, hoarsely, "Leisha."

  Corrigan swore again. "Is she…? I mean…"

  "Dead," Bryce said flatly.

  Corrigan whipped back to us, but didn't say anything. I didn't think he could say anything.

  "I wanna go…somewhere," I mumbled. We'd already given our statements and had been ordered to give official statements the next day at the station. I was really getting tired of going to that same place.

  Bryce and Corrigan shared a look before Bryce asked, "Where?"

  I shrugged. "Not here."

  Corrigan jumped up and said abruptly, "I'll cut the guys loose. We can crash at my place."

  I thanked him with my eyes and Bryce nodded.

  Corrigan left and returned a second later with keys to Chet's car. "Let's go." He dangled the keys in the air and Bryce placed his hand at the small of my back. Corrigan got behind the wheel with Bryce in the shotgun seat. I huddled in the back in a fetal position.

  Bryce had stuffed the envelope in his pocket. We hadn't discussed it, but Bryce snapped it out of my hands and shoved it inside before he called the cops. I heard the crinkle of the paper and knew he showed Corrigan.

  The envelope was addressed to me. We hadn't opened it yet.

  Suddenly, I bolted upright and grabbed the envelope.

  "Sheldon!" Bryce cried out, startled.

  I ripped it open and found one piece of paper inside. It was a small note and it read,

  Queen of Geneva disregarded her lowly subjects. To the grave they went and more to come.

  I dry-heaved as Corrigan veered the car to the side. Bryce ripped the letter out of my hands and read it. He swore underneath his breath and Corrigan took it from him. He reacted the same.

  I opened the door and took deep breaths from the air.

  No one said anything. We sat there until Corrigan asked quietly, "Are you okay to go? Can you shut the door?"

  Bryce rested his forehead against his window and didn't say anything.

  When I shut the door, Bryce lifted his head up and glanced back at me.

  I huddled back down and hugged my knees to my chest.

  Corrigan pulled back onto the road and the rest of the drive was passed in silence. The radio had been left off.

  The letter was left untouched between the two guys.

  I don't think anyone wanted to touch it.

  At Corrigan's we walked down to the basement and sat on the couches. Corrigan's family had placed three couches around a large screen that fitted against an entire wall. It was their own theater room. The couches matched the grandiose media center. They were plush and large enough to fit two full-length people.

  I stretched out on one. Bryce took another and Corrigan dropped onto the third after he'd left for a bottle of bourbon.

  He passed it around and all three of us took two shots in a row.

  This time, Bryce didn't hiss from the burn.

  We kept passing the bottle until it was empty.

  Corrigan sighed and flung the bottle at the bar. It ricocheted off the corner and bounced into the recycling bin.

  No one commented on the shot.

  "The cops should have that note," Corrigan started.

  "No," I said sharply.

  "Sheldon…"

  "I said no. It had my name on it. It's not going. We need to destroy it."

  "They could check it for prints. We should've given it to them right away," Corrigan argued. "Why'd you guys even have it in the first place?"

  "Sheldon grabbed it off the body."

  I flinched at those words. Leisha was cold now.

  Bryce added, "I didn't really think about it."

  "I don't want the cops to know. I don't want to be…connected to whoever could do something like that," I spat out, feeling my insides gutted out.

  "You should tell them," Corrigan said.

  "Shut up."

  Corrigan didn't say anything.

  Bryce rubbed a hand over his jaw and sat up. He stood and paced. "This is…we should do something. I don't want to sit anymore."

  "Everyone at school is going to know," I said faintly.

  "Let's play basketball or…I don't know. Let's go for a run."