Between Love and Murder

by Chris Bedell

  “Did you forget about Thanksgiving?” I asked.

  “That was only last Thursday and Friday.”

  “And Saturday and Sunday,” I interrupted.

  She pursed her lips. “Don’t get cute.”

  “I’m sorry you’re upset, but I can’t help you.”

  “I’m gonna be watching you. And don’t forget something. If I used Archie as a weapon against you once, then I can do it again.”

  I chuckled. “You wouldn’t do that—not this time.”

  “And why is that?” Mallory demanded.

  “You wouldn’t blow our truce—you’d have nobody if you did.”

  Several students darted by us while Mallory remained silent for a moment.

  Good to know she had some standards, because I so wanted to get into trouble or have the whole school gossip and speculate about fighting with Mallory.

  She wrinkled her nose. “If you didn’t steal the flash drive, then I wanna know who did. I just gotta get that video back.”

  Wow. The video must’ve been important. I never once witnessed someone get so worked up over a flash drive before.

  Wait. Perhaps the video was more serious than I realized. Only one thing made Mallory more worked up then me rejecting her—Tommy and Gemma. More specifically, their affair. I hadn’t forgotten how she wrote in her diary about wishing she could’ve killed them.

  So maybe, just maybe, the video could’ve been of Tommy and Gemma having sex. Although I would’ve liked to know what happened to Tommy and his trust fund. They couldn’t have vanished into thin air.

  WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 2018

  Dan, Rebecca, Archie, and I went to the Spindlewood Diner for dinner—a restaurant a couple of towns away.

  Rebecca shifted her weight in the booth. “This was a great idea—I’m so glad we’re going on a double date.”

  Dan’s eyebrows swung upward. “This was your idea.”

  “It doesn’t mean it was a bad idea,” Rebecca said.

  “No need to toot your own horn,” Dan said.

  “Doesn’t matter. The important thing is we’re here,” I said.

  Archie laughed. “Has anyone told you how you fight like an old married couple?”

  Rebecca gasped. “That’s not true.”

  “It was a compliment,” Archie said.

  “Fine.” Rebecca turned to the menu’s next page. “Anyway, I have no idea what I wanna order.”

  “We can always ask for more time,” Dan said. “I doubt it’ll be a big deal.”

  Dan was right. The echoing of numerous voices was the only hint we needed for realizing how crowded the place was and nobody would take our order for a little while longer. I was pretty sure there wasn’t a free seat in the entire diner. So, yeah. We’d be fine. It wasn’t like Mallory just arrived and accused one of us of stealing the flash drive.

  Damn. Mallory was an issue even when she wasn’t physically present, because I loved cringing from trying to anticipate what her next move would be. It wasn’t like she ever overreacted before.

  Archie eyed me. “Something wrong?”

  “No. I’m just tired,” I said.

  Rebecca closed her menu. “I’m gonna get a salad.”

  “You could make that at home,” Dan said.

  Perhaps Archie had a point.

  Sure. Nothing wrong with debating friends. But I wouldn’t have wanted to be with someone who turned every little thing into a discourse. Life was too short, and there were more important aspects to focus on.

  “I don’t feel like getting anything fancy,” Rebecca said.

  Dan rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

  “Tell me again about how you two don’t resemble an old married couple?” Archie asked.

  “Okay.” Rebecca undid her ponytail, letting her hair free. “You might have a point. But I don’t wanna think about getting old for a long time.”

  “There are worse things in life than old age,” Archie said.

  Rebecca gave a pig-like snort. “Doubtful.”

  If only Rebecca realized how Archie was right. Plenty of things were worse besides old age. Like a backstabbing friend or wondering if said friend was capable of blackmail and murder.

  Deep breaths. I’d figure out how to handle Mallory—eventually, that was. The only problem was wanting to do something about my suspicions and making a plan were two different things.

  Asking Gemma if she thought Mallory was vindictive enough to drive Tommy out of town or maybe even kill him was out of the question. Incest didn’t quite roll off the tongue. Gemma also probably couldn’t tell me anything new. Her hatred of Mallory wasn’t a secret, so I needed another option. Perhaps I could try reading Mallory’s diary again. There might’ve been entries after the one I read from June.

  Damn. If only I kept reading her journal that day. If I had, I might’ve had more concrete answers and wouldn’t have kept tapping my feet in contemplation of what would happen next.

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2018

  Archie approached me in the hallway right when I almost arrived at my locker.

  I didn’t count on him pulling away when I kissed him, though. Archie had never been shy about showing affection before.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s not you—it’s me.”

  “Come again?”

  “I don’t wanna see you anymore,” Archie said.

  “Where’s this coming from?”

  “The threesome opened my eyes. Anything I feel for you doesn’t change my feelings for Mallory. I’ve always been more interested in her.”

  I folded my arms. “What game is she playing? If she’s making you end our relationship, then you need to tell me. Remember what we said? No more secrets.”

  His tongue wet his lips. “There’s nothing to explain. Mallory is who I wanna be with—not you.”

  “What changed between our double date with Dan and Rebecca and this morning?”

  “I wanted to be honest—it’s what we both deserve.”

  Bullshit. I didn’t deserve this random conversation. Threesome aside, Archie and I were enjoying our second chance.

  So, yeah. Something didn’t add up, and I’d discover what that fact was. It was my only option—I wouldn’t be a victim. Not anymore.

  SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2018

  I cried into my pillow while afternoon sunlight beamed into my bedroom.

  No matter how much I wanted to pretend I was okay, I couldn’t. The universe somehow stole Archie from me again.

  Knowing I might’ve lost Archie again before he ended things was the worst part. Surprise was one thing—then I couldn’t blame myself—yet I wasn’t clueless to Mallory’s antics. Archie was the fastest way to hurt me, and I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become too comfortable with him.

  I wouldn’t feel guilty for obsessing too much over a relationship, though. Healthy or not, I always had a soft spot for Bella and Edward’s romance in Twilight. No matter how frivolous the Twilight books and movies were to some, they captured the intensity from experiencing that first teen love.

  Someone knocked on my door.

  “May I come in?” Mom asked.

  “I don’t feel like talking.”

  “You aren’t going to get anywhere if you sulk in your bedroom the entire weekend.”

  When Mom was right, she was right. Mom could be a sympathetic listener even if she couldn’t wave a wand and fix my relationship with Archie. So maybe, just maybe, I’d save my energy for once in my life, and go with the easy solution. Doing so was the least I deserved—life shouldn’t have been this difficult.

  I gasped. “Fine. You can come in.”

  Mom entered my bedroom, then I sat up and she sat down next to me on my bed.

  “I don’t understand why Archie would suddenly end your relationship,” Mom said.

  “Because of that bitch Mallory.”

  “What does Mallory have to do with anything?” Mom asked.

  “S
he wants to make my life hell.”

  Mom flinched. “I’m sure that isn’t true—you two are best friends.”

  “Not anymore,” I interrupted.

  “I don’t understand what changed?” Mom asked. “You’ve known Mallory your entire life.”

  “People put on masks sometimes.”

  “What do customs have to do with anything?”

  No offense to Mom, but she wasn’t helping the conversation. I didn’t know how we’d make any progress if she couldn’t infer the deeper meaning to my comment. It wasn’t like I asked her to solve a math problem.

  I shook my head. “It’s a metaphor.”

  “Oh. Well, no wonder you’re the writer.”

  “Something terrible is going on—I just don’t know what it is.”

  Mom parted a lock of my hair to the side while several tears dripped down my face. “I’ve been meaning to chat with you about Archie.”

  I almost choked. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

  “Relax. You aren’t in trouble.” She remained silent for a second. “However, there’s a few things we should get straight.”

  “Go ahead. My life can’t get any worse.”

  “You’re too serious about Archie,” Mom blurted.

  “What did you just say?”

  “It’s not a criticism—it’s a fact.”

  I sobbed even louder. “I’m entitled to an epic romance like everyone else.”

  “That’s not my point.”

  “Then what?” I said, raising my voice.

  “Enjoying the first love trope in books and television shows is one thing, but that’s not real life. Your first love isn’t usually your last love.”

  Mom should’ve saved her breath. I never once thought that the books or television shows I consumed were realistic—they were only escapism. I also knew what day of the week and year it was in addition to who was currently president of the United States. And if she implied what I thought she did, then we’d have big problems.

  “What? Do you think I’m psychotic?” I asked.

  “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  I rubbed my fingers against the pillow tucked under my left armpit. “Just calling it like I see it.”

  “Forget it.” Mom stood. “I’ve only made things worse. Anyway, we can have whatever you want for dinner—just let me know if that means a home cooked meal or ordering takeout.” Mom left my bedroom without another word, leaving me to myself.

  I smacked my cheek. Mom shouldn’t have been the enemy—she only tried to help—yet she could’ve had more sensitivity. She would’ve been the first person screaming bloody murder if someone told her holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries should’ve gotten easier by now and that any lingering grief over Dad wasted time.

  SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2018

  I left Starbucks sometime in the early part of the afternoon.

  Mom had given me thirty dollars for Starbucks and to treat myself for lunch, and I hadn’t hesitated about accepting money from her. Even if some people might’ve thought getting money from my mother should’ve stopped by a certain age.

  I literally bumped into Kelly several moments later after shuffling down the sidewalk. Then, she almost dropped the white box she was carrying.

  I sighed. “Sorry. I should’ve paid attention to where I was going.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The tiramisu will be fine.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  Kelly giggled. “You don’t need an occasion for tiramisu.”

  “True.”

  Her hair fluttered in the wind. “Are you okay, Chad?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t have to put on a façade for me. Being Mallory’s sister means having my own fair share of baggage with her.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “She told me about how Archie ended things with you and reunited with her.”

  “Interesting,” I mumbled.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I didn’t buy her story—not even for a second.”

  “I don’t know what to do…”

  “Fight for your happiness. Don’t let Archie go.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I’m sorry—I’m being a baby. You’ve got no reason to listen to me purge my feelings.”

  “Not a big deal. Always happy to listen.” Kelly peeked at her gold watch. “I’ve gotta get going but know one thing. My door is always open at school, so don’t hesitate about reaching out if you need a sympathetic ear.”

  “Thanks.”

  I didn’t know if I should smile or scream. Kelly was only an acquaintance at best, yet she was more helpful than Mom. And that fact didn’t comfort me—Mom was supposed to love me unconditionally no matter how neurotic I might’ve been. We were all that we had left in light of Dad no longer being alive.

  “Don’t look so sad,” called out a voice.

  I titled my head. Gemma just exited a nearby shop and was walking towards me. Perfect. Perhaps Gemma would also be more sympathetic than Mom.

  “Why are you so happy?” I asked.

  Gemma adjusted her coat’s belt. “Someone I hate is about to get what’s coming to them.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Some surprises are worth it.”

  “I’m not sure about that anymore,” I said.

  She played with her ponytail. “You can vent about your boy problems if you want.”

  “I’m all talked out at this point.”

  “I’m a good listener.”

  Good to know I still had my intuition—I wasn’t completely certainty about whether Gemma actually wanted to chat. She didn’t owe me anything because we were friends or family. So, yeah. No matter how much my breakup with Archie sucked, I’d find a small amount of delight in my gut instincts remaining accurate. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if I could no longer read situations and people.

  “Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who still hates Mallory,” I touted.

  Gemma snorted. “Her karma is coming.”

  “Mallory was who you were referring to?”

  “Yeah. Who did you think my comment was about?” Gemma asked.

  “You’re right. I should’ve known better.”

  Her lips spread, forming a smile. “Be patient—justice will be worth it.”

  “It better.”

  “Have a good rest of the day.” Gemma trekked down the block, heading towards her Mercedes.

  Yup. Morality once again didn’t matter.

  Gemma provided me with more comfort than she realized. Some people deserved every bad thing headed their way, and I wouldn’t apologize for believing that idea. Not when Mallory wasn’t an innocent victim. Nope. She’d always be a heartless bitch in my mind, and nothing changed that fact. Not even if she saved me from a burning building. Some fractures—like broken friendships—were permanent no matter how nostalgic people were for simpler times.

  AFTER

  MONDAY, MARCH 18, 2019

  I scurried towards Archie—who was chatting with a guy by his locker—before first period.

  Jealousy wasn’t the reason for my increased pulse, though. Even if there was something about Jake’s dimples that anyone would’ve swooned over. I was gonna fight for my relationship with Archie whether he liked it or not. I refused to be miserable when he was making too much of a big deal out of everything.

  “We’ve got a lot to discuss,” I said.

  Archie glanced at Jake. “Mind giving us a moment?”

  Jake nodded. “Sure.”

  Jake walked away, disappearing into an adjacent hallway.

  “That was rude of you,” Archie said.

  “There’s something else you don’t know. I wanted to spare you, but that was a mistake.”

  “What? Did Tommy let you sleep with him twice?”

  “Tommy’s death might’ve been an accident, but Mallory might be a serial killer.”

  Archie snorted. “What drugs are you on?”

  �
��Go ahead—ask Kelly. Mallory’s previous boyfriend, Parker, died in an alleged drowning like a guy named Jordon who also would’ve been in our grade if he was still alive,” I said. “Parker cheated on Mallory and Jordon cheated on his girlfriend, Sami—she’s on the debate team with Mallory.”

  “Let’s say for the sake of argument that you’re telling your truth,” Archie said. “That still doesn’t change how dating me has turned you into a toxic person.”

  I gasped. “Are you in love with Mallory, or something?”

  Yeah. My question had to have been asked no matter how difficult doing so might’ve been. Caring about Mallory as more than a friend was the only reasonable explanation for his vigorous defense of her.

  “No. You just need to be with someone who brings out the best in you.”

  The warning bell rang. Then, students and teachers drifted down the hallway.

  Damn. So much for fixing my relationship, because our conversation couldn’t have gone worse if I tried. And I’d probably never reunite with Archie.

  TUESDAY, MARCH 19, 2019

  I almost opened the library door during one of my free periods when Gemma exited it.

  “How’s the breakup going?” Gemma asked.

  “Don’t pretend you care.”

  She grinned. “I really am sorry things blew up in your face.”

  “Enough about me. How are you doing?”

  “You aren’t the only one being gossiped about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gemma looked away. “The police might’ve preserved my reputation but not revealing my affair with Tommy because I’m a minor. But people can’t stop chatting about my father leaving my mother and I.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be—it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Still going to counseling?”

  “Yeah, and it’s the best decision I ever made. I’ll need tools if I ever hope to recover from all the crap my father put me through.”

  I chuckled. “Look at you. If I didn’t know better, then I’d guess you wanna become a better person.”

  “I do—I’m tired of the anger.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Would you wanna go to the cafeteria and work on homework?” Gemma asked. “There aren’t any free tables in the library.”

  “Sure.”

  Gemma and I trudged farther and farther away from the library. Somehow, I used up all my shock. Anybody watching Gemma and I might’ve thought we were friends. And for a split-second, I would’ve believed the person. If I had to choose between Archie’s scolding, Mallory’s wrath, or hanging with Gemma, then I would’ve chosen Gemma.