Between Love and Murder

by Chris Bedell

  “You really wanna destroy Mallory over an accident?” I asked.

  “She deserves it. If it’s not this, then it’d be over something else. Look at this way, I’m doing the world a favor.”

  “I still haven’t decided if I wanna help.”

  “I’m a generous person, so I’ll give you some time, but not too much.” Gemma strutted down the block without another word.

  Wow. How nice it must’ve been to be Gemma—I would’ve given my life savings never to have worry about anything again. Most people would’ve danced around their intentions. But no. Gemma made her declaration, and that was that. The only question was if I’d go along with her plan. Never seeing Mallory again offered more appeal than an impromptu trip to Hawaii, yet I still went back to my earlier point no matter how much Mallory sinned against me. A tiny part of me would’ve gone into a fetal position if my friendship with Mallory ended. Losses that didn’t involve death were sometimes the most difficult situations to move on from—at least death provided closure.

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2018

  Mallory and I sat at a table in back of Café Tomorrow.

  She pushed the chipped mug towards me. “I ordered for you because I’d bet my life on you wanting a hot caramel macchiato.”

  “Nothing is worth betting your life for.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree.”

  Her gaze remained on her cup. Wow. She still hadn’t made eye contact with me since I arrived a couple minutes ago, and I could only speculate about what bombshell she’d drop on me.

  “Just tell me whatever is on your mind,” I said. “You know I’ll find out eventually, so save us time.”

  Yeah. Even I could be generous with Mallory after everything she did for me. And my reasoning wasn’t even because she saved my life. Nope. It was still the holiday season, and I could spare some generosity as long as Mallory didn’t take advantage.

  She coughed, then looked upward. “I owe you an apology.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I never dealt with my parents dying and then Tommy’s betrayal was the final push. So, that’s why I’ve been the way I am.”

  “You’re gonna have to elaborate,” I said.

  “Kelly saw a grief counselor after my parents, but I didn’t.” Mallory pouted. “That’s why I’ve used you as a target for my anger—like when you rejected me at the beginning of the school year. It wasn’t because I admired Glenn Close’s character in Fatal Attraction. It was because I’m sick of everything going wrong. But I know I can’t keep acting the same way and expect different results. I’ve had my first few sessions with a therapist, and it’s already doing miracles for me.”

  “I lost a parent as well, but I didn’t turn into a jerk.”

  She exhaled deeply. “I’m not trying to justify my behavior. I just want you to know it didn’t come out of nowhere.”

  “Why be honest now?”

  Mallory patted my hand. “Uniting together is the only way we’re gonna survive the Tommy situation. Especially if Gemma might already be suspicious of us.”

  Gemma. There that name was again. I so loved how Mallory brought her up. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about Gemma 5,000 times. I was fully aware her generosity wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, Gemma would want a decision. And I’d have to figure out if I could live with hurting Mallory like she hurt me.

  “This can’t be easy for you,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter. It was important.”

  I sipped my caramel macchiato. “Perhaps we’ll be able to get along now.”

  “I hope so, because I meant what I said. I’ve got nothing to gain by lying. Not when we could lose everything.”

  How great for me. Mallory’s character change happened at the least opportune time. No matter how much I wanted to believe she wanted to be a better person, I couldn’t shake the memory of her facial expression when she spied on my first conversation with Archie. Or the time she snuck into my bedroom in hopes of me stopping my investigation about the Tommy situation.

  So, yeah. I had a lot to think about now, and I was just thrilled. My life would always get more complicated, not less complicated.

  SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2018

  My head remained on Archie’s chest while he ran his fingers through my hair, stroking it. We were fully clothed and lay on top of my bed comforter. Even if I couldn’t tell Archie about Gemma’s offer, I could still be close to him.

  “Do you believe what Mallory told you?” he asked.

  “Yes. She has no reason to lie.”

  “But do you actually trust her?”

  Just because Archie couldn’t know about my conversation with Gemma didn’t mean I couldn’t tell him about my feelings for Mallory. Like how I could make her mad without realizing it, only for her to scheme against me—even if Mallory might’ve been seeing a therapist and believed she was being a better person.

  Crap. My head spun because of all this thinking. No matter how many times I considered the possibilities, I couldn’t predict the future.

  “No,” I finally said.

  “Then you’ve got your answer.”

  BEFORE

  MONDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2018

  I closed my locker after getting everything I needed for first period, only to be greeted by hands covering my eyes.

  No need for an increased heartbeat, though. The deodorant wafting through the air revealed who stood behind me, so I wouldn’t alert the FBI about a serial striking again.

  “Hi,” Archie said.

  “What’s up?”

  “I thought we could chat before first period.”

  “Sure. Anything on your mind?” I asked.

  “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s nothing bad.”

  I laughed. “Good. You know how I feel about surprises.”

  “I was wondering if you’d want to go out on a date.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  He nudged my shoulder. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  Truthfully, Archie was right. There shouldn’t have been anything complicated about our first date. Yet I couldn’t forget about the universe. Like wondering when the next bad thing would happen. Pushing my pride aside and giving my relationship with Archie a real chance didn’t mean I forgot about Mallory—I hadn’t. I couldn’t. And the small possibility of Mallory doing something bad lurked in my mind.

  “You’re right. A date sounds lovely,” I said.

  He wagged his finger at me. “I hope you know it’s okay to be happy.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

  Archie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d thought we could discuss it—I didn’t wanna be presumptuous about what your favorite food is.”

  Wow. His response indicated we were possibly meant for each other. There was nothing worse than someone making an assumption. Like if he assumed I was okay with spicy food—that wouldn’t be a good way to beginning our relationship.

  “It’s a tie between Chinese and Italian,” I said.

  Archie chuckled, yet didn’t respond. And I couldn’t help raising my eyebrows—I hadn’t said anything funny.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not teasing you. It’s just those are my favorite foods, and I hate when someone makes me choose between the two.”

  The glee radiating from my smile wasn’t an overreaction. Just because the universe always screwed me over, didn’t mean I wished life was difficult. I didn’t. And if that happened from sharing the same taste in food as Archie, then so be it. Sometimes, the little things were what got me through the day.

  “When did you wanna go out?” I asked.

  “That was another thing I wanted to check with you.”

  “I’m free any night this week or we could do the weekend if you wanted.”

  Archie ruffled his hair. “Either works for me.”

  Lilac scented perfume trickled thro
ugh the air, and I craned my neck. Mallory just strutted down the hallway. Her presence didn’t concern me, though. Her attitude is what tingled my spine. Whether intentional or not, Mallory once again sported her hyena grin. The kind of expression that revealed she might’ve been planning something.

  Unless my concern was in my head—that wasn’t impossible. A difference existed between pursuing a guy to spite me and going on a shooting spree. Hmmm. If I wanted to be happy, then maybe I’d have to believe happiness was possible. Like that mantra, mind over matter. Doing so was worth a shot—life couldn’t get any worse.

  “What are you thinking about?” Archie demanded.

  “Nothing important.”

  He folded his arms. “Like I believe you.”

  Good for him. Archie could’ve been a detective. The no bullshit approach would’ve made him perfect for the police academy.

  I looped my arms around his neck, then gazed into his eyes. “I’m thinking about how epic our date will be.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  Yup. No regret necessary for fibbing to Archie. People didn’t want to admit morality was sometimes complicated, but it was. If fudging the truth helped me sleep at night, then so be it. Mallory didn’t need to join this conversation—whether physically or just by name.

  “Let’s change the topic,” Archie continued. “Have you been on a date before?”

  “No,” I said without looking away.

  He winked. “Then that makes you a virgin.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Very funny.”

  WEDNESDAY, OCOTBER 10, 2018

  Archie and I turned the corner in the school hallway, only for him to give me a quick peck on the lips.

  “I’m sorry I can’t have lunch with you, but my English conference awaits,” he said.

  “No worries—I’ll survive. And it’ll be fun to catch up with Rebecca and Dan.”

  “You could pretend to miss me.”

  I tapped his nose. “Very funny. But don’t be late for your meeting. You know Mrs. Bell will kill you if you’re even five seconds late.”

  Archie kissed me one more time, then darted down the hallway. I didn’t move from my current location. Not having my insides filled with dread for once in my life provided more joy than I could’ve ever imagined. Maybe my words from the other day were true: I needed to believe happiness was possible if I wanted to be happy.

  Someone cackled and my back hairs rose. The noise was worse than someone dragging their fingernails across a chalkboard.

  The girl standing by the water fountain trekked over to me.

  “What do you want, Mallory?” I asked.

  “Is that anyway to greet a friend?”

  “We aren’t friends.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Why? Because of a couple conversations you had with Gemma? She isn’t perfect either.”

  “It’s not about that and you know it.”

  “Looks like you got everything you wanted, so you’ve got nothing to complain about.”

  “I don’t report to you and can think or feel whatever I want,” I said.

  The bell rang. Hopefully, Archie made it to his writing conference—I wasn’t joking about Mrs. Bell being more uptight than someone who had been constipated for a month. She once gave someone a detention for an excused absence. Dwelling on Archie and Mrs. Bell might’ve also helped me get rid of Mallory. If she saw I wasn’t interested in chatting—not even about the weather—then she might leave me alone.

  Mallory grabbed a strand of her hair. “You and Archie look happy.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Relax. I’ll give you points for consistency,” she said.

  “There’s something you should know.” I undid the top button of my polo shirt. Somehow, the hallway spun around me and sweat dripped down my back despite how the school hadn’t cranked on the heat yet. “I’m not afraid of you, so give it your best shot.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mallory asked.

  “It doesn’t take a Harvard student to know you’re plotting something big.”

  So much for a positive mental attitude because no matter how nice living in a world without drama would’ve been, I still had to protect myself. Even if doing so entailed inventing problems that didn’t exist yet. Luring someone into a false sense of security was the exact thing someone did right before making a final play for revenge.

  Her lips twitched. “Careful, Chad. Paranoia doesn’t look good on you.”

  “It’s not paranoia if it’s real.”

  “I’m not a threat to your relationship with Archie. But maybe you’d see that if you weren’t so judgmental.”

  Okay. Time for a reality check.

  I snorted. “Have you forgotten what you did?”

  “That’s in the past. Besides, I’ve got other things to focus on.”

  “Maybe I should tell Kelly what you did. I’m sure she won’t be happy to learn people are just dolls to you.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” Mallory snapped, her face turning scarlet.

  Several students flocked down the hallway, and I remained silent. Causing a scene before I graduated high school wasn’t exactly on the top of my priority list.

  I scoffed. “Actions speak louder than words.”

  “Where’d you get that? On the back of a Hallmark card?”

  “And you wonder why I don’t want anything to do with you,” I said.

  She locked her hands together. “You’re right. If I want you to trust me, then I should give you a reason to.”

  “Go on.”

  “I want you to be happy regardless of whether you can ever be friends with me again.”

  “Interesting,” I said.

  Mallory drew in a breath. “I’m serious. Have you forgotten I understand what losing a parent is like?”

  When Mallory was right, she was right. No matter how much I wanted to prove her to wrong, I couldn’t forget about her parents dying. Surely, that caused all her current behavioral problems. Generalizations were sometimes true no matter how much people might’ve fought against them. With Mallory, that meant she might’ve wanted a target for anger. Even if it was her former best friend.

  “It’s not my fault a drunk driver killed your parents,” I said.

  She grumbled. “I never said it was.”

  We continued standing in silence. If Mallory wanted me to consider being friends with her someday in a vague, distant future, then she had to work for it.

  “Have you and Archie gone out on a date yet?” she asked.

  Deep breaths. Maybe I had a third option that didn’t involve forgiving her or never speaking to her again. I could try making small talk—even if it was about Archie. It wasn’t impossible for us to be friends again after enough time passed, or at least we could be friendlier towards each other. No matter how justified the anger pulsing through my body was, life shouldn’t have been so hard.

  I coughed. “Not yet, but we will at some point this week. We’re just trying to decide what to do.”

  “If you wanna bounce ideas off me, I’d be happy to listen.”

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2018

  Waves crashed into the sand while the stench of salty sea water lingered in the air.

  “I hope this wasn’t a dumb idea.” Archie shifted his weight on the beach towel next to me, making eye contact.

  “No need to apologize.” I took several slices of salami from the basket between us. “A picnic is a great idea for a first date.”

  “Even if Crescent Beach is haunted?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s an urban legend.”

  “Don’t be so skeptical.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  He snickered. “A ghost sighting would be quite the first date.”

  I poked his elbow. “Don’t even think it. Ghosts are like Green Eggs and Ham. I don’t want them anywhere.”

  “Really?” Archie sipped his champagne. “A
writer should be more adventurous.”

  “There’s only so much I’m willing to do in the name of art.”

  “Live a little.”

  Interesting. I wouldn’t have expected Archie to be a daredevil. Then again, I was still getting to know him.

  Sunlight continued beaming from the sky, and I squinted. “Damn. I should’ve brought my sunglasses,” I said.

  Archie handed me his shades. “Have mine.”

  How kind of him. He hadn’t even given the issue a second thought. I couldn’t even dream of being so kind. Not when I was never certain of what the universe had planned for me.

  “You need them.” I grabbed the champagne bottle from the picnic basket, poured myself a more than generous serving, then sipped it. This brand of champagne wasn’t too dry or too sweet. However, Archie hadn’t told me how he procured the champagne—so I didn’t know if he took the bottle from his parents’ wine cellar or if he had a fake ID and went to a liquor store that didn’t hassle minors. A little mystery might’ve been okay, though. A first date with Archie felt like a controlled environment compared with other situations where I’d cringe from anticipating what life had planned for me.

  “It’s okay. I want you to have them.”

  Okay. If he really felt that way, I’d take them. Whether Archie realized the point or not, he just provided fodder for a new short story. Giving a jacket to a date was the chivalrous thing to do, but nobody ever considered squinting, so I had a fresh twist to an old trope.

  Archie stretched his feet out on the towel. “Something funny?”

  “No. Everything is good.”

  “Have you thought about forgiving Mallory?” he asked.

  Hold on. Archie couldn’t have just mentioned Mallory. There was no acceptable reason for mentioning her. Especially if Archie and I hadn’t kissed yet.

  “I’m not trying to upset you,” Archie continued. “However, I ran into her in the hallway the other day and she mentioned you had a nice conversation.”

  Funny. I wouldn’t have labeled my conversation with Mallory nice, but that was just me. I’d never stop looking out for myself. We still had a long way to go before I’d consider mending our friendship.

  “I should show you one of my short stories at some point,” I said.