“Can I stay here for one more maze?” Lily asks. “Then I’ll drop down.”
Loren nods, and Rose suddenly exits with Connor, both undeterred by the horror element. Connor honestly looks like he just stepped out of his weekly phone conferences with oversea investors. Same casual I own the world confidence radiates off him…and his wife.
The golden crowns make this twice as noticeable.
I glance at Loren, and he looks upset. Like maybe the whole goal was to rattle the unshakeable. Nine mazes are left, and I know Connor well enough as my boss—and I’m pretty sure you could put him in a thousand mazes and he’d still exit each one with assuredness and ease.
Rose narrows her eyes at Loren. Probably understanding his ulterior motive.
Loren cringes. “Stop staring at me. I know you like my face, but my face doesn’t like you.”
Rose’s yellow-green gaze pierces him. “You’re a child, Loren.”
They’re bickering is non-stop whenever I’m around them. At first, I thought it was a fluke. Nope. It happens… All. The. Time. For no other reason than they just seem to not get along.
Loren mimes wiping a tear with his fist to his cheek, surprisingly able to hold Lily with one hand. “Go cry about it in your lair.”
“Go dry hump a bed of nails.” At this, she flips her hair over her shoulder and marches ahead in five-inch heels. Her husband is the only person that follows her, able to keep pace with his wife. Their fingers thread together, holding hands.
Don’t think about Willow.
I’m not…
I’m trying not to.
I swallow a lump in my throat as we all follow the King and Queen—as the internet refers to them. With all the bodyguards trailing us, it’s starting to feel like they’re actually American royalty.
The more we walk, the more my mind circumnavigates back to Willow. Despite the skeleton-painted guys shrieking at the guests and chainsaws revving, I know she’d want to be here. She loves her family, and missing out on a group experience would bum her out.
There are pros and cons to being away, and this right now, is her con. Even if I’m having a decent…pretty good time.
So yeah, I feel kind of shitty about that.
I hate that we’re on two separate continents. We’re stretched thin for time as it is. And I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know what she’s thinking all the time, and especially now that she’s around college guys like Salvatore Amadio, she has to be beginning to understand that I’m not a great person. Bottom barrel. I’m shit, and once she realizes that completely, she’ll want it to be over. And how can I blame her?
I glance back at Ryke and Loren. Her brothers. They talk to her every week, and I wonder if she’s brought me up. I’m not going to ask though.
Should I?
I feel like that’s prying.
They’re her brothers, not mine. They’re not unbiased or anything. Not that I need someone on my side. I think everyone should be on Willow’s.
Swiftly, I look back again. This time not discreet enough.
“If you have something to fucking say, just say it,” Ryke says. His tone is softer than his words. “We don’t bite.”
“I do,” Loren adds with a bitter smile. “But count yourself lucky, I won’t bite you.”
I don’t believe that.
But I do believe that if he lashed out at me, I’d probably deserve it.
I slow down just to walk beside them. Taking a deep breath, I just let it all out. “You both talk to Willow a lot—I’m sure about me—and you can probably gauge her feelings, right? Honestly, I don’t need a ten-page-long synopsis or diagram or anything, but I just want to know the percentage you two think Willow will want to break up with me in the next few years.”
I must be a masochist to want to know. But I do.
Ryke’s brows furrow. “Don’t you two fucking talk to each other?”
“Yeah, but do you even know what it’s like being in a long-distance relationship? I can only say I love you so fucking much. It’s not the same as…” I take off the blinking baseball hat, hot all of a sudden. “It’s just harder.”
I want to hold her. I want to be with her. How do you do that if you’re physically separated from someone? And that physical part of a relationship—she could get it so much easier from a guy like Salvatore.
But even thinking of my girl with another guy—God, stop.
I focus on the question I asked: What percentage do they think Willow will want to break up with me?
“Zero percent,” Loren says, not even really hesitating.
I jerk back. “Zero percent?” I glance at Ryke. “Is he good at math?”
“Am I good at math,” Loren repeats like I’m a toddler. “I can count to ten. One, two, my sister is too good for you, four, five, you both will survive.”
I take that in, focusing on the important part. “You realize you didn’t reach ten, right?”
Loren swings his head to Ryke.
Ryke flips me off. Two middle fingers.
It’s his go-to move, and really, I earned it. I’m nearly smiling. “What percentage?” I ask Ryke.
“Zero,” he says, “but I don’t know what you’ll fucking do.” Wait…what?
I frown. “Why would you think that I’d want to break up with her? I’m worried about her breaking up with me.”
“That broken heart fucking thing,” Ryke says.
Shiiiiiit.
My mouth falls in realization. I filled out that questionnaire months ago, but maybe it’s been in the back of their minds. “You saw my Tumblr questionnaire?” Frustration surges. “How? You don’t even use Tumblr. You’re internet inept!”
“Fuck you.”
Loren interjects, “It’s true.”
Ryke glowers at Lo. “I know how to use Facebook.”
“Facebook is stupid, man,” I say. “It’s like the ugly stepchild of Tumblr.” But right now, I’m not feeling great things about Tumblr either. It’s easier liking the internet when it isn’t cruel to you, and I’ve seen Willow and her family pressed underneath the weight of it. Like everything, I just think maybe there are good and bad parts of it.
Ryke wears a confused I don’t know what you’re talking about expression like I just spoke an intergalactic language. Loren laughs.
“Honestly,” I say, “did you stumble on it or something?”
“Or something,” Loren replies. Fuuuuck. That could only mean one thing.
I glare at the sky. “Daisy showed you?”
Ryke scowls. “Leave her fucking out of it.”
“Whatever,” I say into a big breath. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I don’t feel great about where I left things with Willow when she was in Philly.”
Loren drills me with one of his iconic glares, a hell of a lot sharper than Ryke’s. Which only confirms my suspicions.
“Great. She told you.” That we had sex.
“Yep,” Loren says.
Ryke adds, “And don’t you dare fucking yell at her about it. We’re her brothers.”
That hurts. “I’d never…I wouldn’t yell at Willow for anything…” I’m not that guy.
Ryke’s eyes soften.
Loren is still glaring.
“If you’re that fucking worried,” Ryke says, “there’s a solution right in front of your face.”
“What?” I ask.
“Visit Willow,” Ryke suggests. “Go to London. You don’t have to fucking move there. Just see her for a week or two weeks.”
Loren nods. “You’ll both feel better.”
They must not know that Willow and I have an agreement that I won’t visit her until next semester. I worry about being the needy boyfriend, the one that doesn’t give her space to succeed on her own. Anyway, she’ll be back in Philly for Winter Break, so if I fly out before then, I will, one-hundred-percent, seem like the overbearing one.
So the best I can say is something noncommittal. Because that’s how I feel right now.
&nb
sp; “Yeah. Maybe.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, we’re headed towards the second maze, up on a steep hill. The entrance arch is decorated with flashing bulbs like a carnival. Creepy music that I recognize echoes. It’s American Horror Story themed. I’m not sure the others understand the references or if they’ve even seen season four, but excitement surges as we approach.
Suddenly, a rumble of chainsaws revs from the hill, and an abrupt wave of clowns rush towards us. But that’s not the immediate threat. I turn around to see a taller, thinner clown with makeup stretching from cheek-to-cheek, gripping a fake sword, and approaching Ryke.
It’s even faster than the chainsaws.
The clown screeches in Ryke’s ear.
Ryke whips around, without even thinking or pausing or assessing the situation, he slams a fist into the clown’s jaw.
Holy shit.
“Fuck,” Ryke curses, realizing what he just did. He raises his hands like he comes in peace. But, kid you not, the clown stumbles back and falls on his ass.
Note to self: do not get accidentally sucker punched by Ryke Meadows.
I take out my phone. This needs to be recorded.
For Willow. Not for anyone else. Definitely not for the internet.
Connor and Rose start nearing us, probably to do damage control, but the damage is seriously already done. There is a rule about touching the actors. Don’t.
A few clowns on the hill yell, “Security!” like their friend is dying on the cement. Another heavier-set clown charges Ryke for vengeance.
I’m near laughter.
I probably should be helping, but I consider my presence here helpful towards one person. Willow. She’s not going to miss this.
Lily clutches onto Loren’s back, and Connor increases his pace and sprints to Ryke.
Connor extends a hand to the heavier clown. “It was an accident,” he says in a calm business-tone. “My friend reacts before he thinks.”
The clown suddenly stops but his lip still curls, pissed at Ryke.
“The clowns look mad,” Lily whispers to Lo, but I’m close enough to hear. “Like real anger.”
Connor must hear, too, because he replies, “That’s generally the sentiment that appears after someone is punched.”
Ryke doesn’t hear, since he’s busy apologizing profusely. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
The bodyguards surround us, and they take over, trying to deescalate the situation with the clowns. Creating barriers between us and them. Bystanders have their phones out like me.
Loren spins around like he’s trying to count heads.
His eyes land on mine.
I nod. I’m here. I’m alive. Willow gets to see this. Tonight isn’t so bad. Rose even holds a can of pepper spray, aimed like she’s about to douse any clown that approaches her. Classic Rose. I make sure to get a video of that for Willow.
The security team talks with the park staff, and within minutes the verdict comes in.
Ryke is being banned from the entire park. Not just the scare zones and mazes. It’s actually kind of hilarious.
A minute later, the clowns disperse, and Loren sets Lily on her feet. We all huddle together. I pull the strings on my hoodie.
Ryke removes his flower crown, just to run a hand through his hair. “I’ll go wait in the fucking car. You all just go on without me.” He sets his flower crown back.
It’s tilted to the side. Off-center like it might fall.
Connor, standing closest to Ryke, is the one who straightens the crown for him. It’s weird. Sometimes it seems like those two despise each other, and then there are moments like this. It confuses the hell out of me.
“No,” Loren tells his brother. “You’re not waiting in the car like you were cast out.”
“It’s fine, Lo.”
“The park did technically banish him,” Connor cuts in.
“Then the park banished all of us.” Loren touches his chest theatrically. “I’m not leaving Ryke behind.” Ryke opens his mouth to protest, but Loren says strongly, “It’s Halloween. I call the shots, and I say we go to Queen Rose’s place and watch Poltergeist on surround sound.”
“Can we order pizza?” I ask suddenly, catching myself by surprise. I want this. To spend time with these people. They make me feel good.
“And there’ll be pizza,” Loren says certainly, his gaze latching onto Ryke, trying harder to convince him. Guilt crests Ryke’s eyes, not wanting to crash Loren’s birthday.
“And ding-dongs,” Lily adds.
Lo tries not to smile. “And ding-dongs. And surly-faced brothers named Ryke Meadows. Yeah?”
Ryke hesitates. We’ve only been through one maze, but it was fun while it lasted, and the clown-fight might go down in history. I can’t wait to show Willow the video. Hopefully, it won’t make her miss home even more. But maybe she’ll be glad I’m here to record it for her.
I hold onto that.
With a nod, Ryke concedes. “Okay.”
I’m going to spend a night watching Poltergeist and eating pizza with Willow’s family, and I’m finally starting not to feel guilty about it. Maybe it’s because I want to be happy, even if I don’t deserve it. Just enjoy it. I think I will.
Just today.
17 BACK THEN – September
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
WILLOW MOORE
Age 17
I tuck my white blouse into my navy-blue skirt, the Dalton Academy uniform as uncomfortable as I feel. I check the clock on my wooden desk. 7:23 a.m.
Garrison said he’d be outside my apartment complex at 7:30, and since we didn’t exchange numbers, I should probably just go now and wait for him.
I grab my tattered backpack, wondering if this will be violation of some dress code. I’ve never attended private school before, and I would’ve gone to public school but Lo refused.
He said, I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry about it. It’s one of the best schools in the city.
I told Loren that I’d pay him back. Every cent, and that was that.
In the elevator, I update ryumastersxx’s blog, restraining a smile at his username. Ken Masters is one of the most popular Street Fighter characters, and his rival and best friend is named Ryu. Every time I’ve refreshed his page, gifs and edits are the only new content.
This time though…it’s different.
Rules: Complete the form by answering each section truthfully. Once you’ve finished, tag other users to complete the task. Begin by sourcing the person who tagged you.
He did it. “Oh my God,” I whisper, so caught off-guard that I forget to push the lobby button. I do and then eagerly and yet tentatively read his answers.
What was your…
Last drink: lightning bolt! + vodka
I’m suddenly scared to read the rest, but like a fiend or junkie, I just can’t stop. I have to know more.
Last phone call: can’t remember. Everyone just texts now
Last text message: “Fuck you.” – sent to my middle brother. He’s a dick.
Have you ever…
Been cheated on: not yet. Give it time and I’m sure it’ll happen
Kissed someone and regretted it: I don’t regret kissing
Drank hard liquor: no *sarcasm*
Been drunk and thrown up: only when drinking hunch punch that has too much fucking punch
Met someone who changed you: I guess one person. He’s famous—so very few people would believe me if I said his name. He kind of gave me a hand when no one else did
Fallen out of love: I’ve fallen out of love with dill pickles. Fucking gross.
Found out who your true friends are: I think I just did
Lost glasses: don’t wear them, but they look cute on this girl I just met.
I touch my cheeks that hurt from a smile that won’t go away, but it disappears at the sight of the next topic.
Sex on the first date: do I really have to answer this? [w, if this makes you nervous, please skip over this]
W. I take a breath, wondering if I should glaze over his typed words, but if he’s telling me to skip it, then maybe he knows the answer won’t sit well with me. Or maybe he doesn’t want to “come on strong”—it’s not like he’s hitting on me or anything.
This is just the start of a friendship, right?
I decide to look.
Already did it. It wasn’t her first time either.
Either. Meaning he’s had sex multiple times too.
And I haven’t even been kissed…but it shouldn’t matter. Just the start of a friendship.
Been arrested: not yet
Turned someone down: I don’t know what this is implying. Turned someone down for a ride? For a smoke? What is this?
Fallen for a friend: sort of
Sort of. I don’t know what that is implying!
More questions…
Do you have any pets: turtle named Abracadabra—it used to be my brother Mitchell’s before he left for college.
What did you do for your last birthday party: smoked and watched Evil Dead with my friends – it was actually horrible (I had the spins all night and threw up)
Name something you cannot wait for: the end of senior year
What irritates you: being told what to do, what to wear, how to act
Nickname(s): Abbey
Relationship status: hiatus
Favorite TV show: Supernatural and American Horror Story
High School: sucks
College: probably sucks more
Hair Color + Length: brown, short but not that short idk
Whatever It Takes Page 17
