by Hart, Rebel
“Gross!” I squeal out in laughter, pushing him away.
We both freeze as we catch a glimpse of Malcolm and the others glaring at us, as if any momentary sign of happiness from us is an affront to them. We reign in the display a little, but the closer we get to freedom, the less daunting the new Elites seem.
“Soon we’ll be far away from that kind of bull shit,” I grumble, nodding slightly towards them.
“How do we know there won’t be a new version of the Elites waiting for you at college?” Emmett asks grimly.
I cut my eyes over to him, saddened by how little perspective he has. He’s never known anything outside the fucked-up bubble of Jameson. He’s plagued with a very real inability to imagine any other kind of life.
“Movies,” I quip. “There’s plenty of stories of college and life that don’t involve corrupt millionaires or death threats or hostages or any of the crazy scenarios that are so common around here.”
“There’s plenty that do have those things though,” he defends himself as if it all really could be so normal.
I want to remind him that those are usually things people dream up for excitement or entertainment and that the average person doesn’t experience them firsthand, especially before the age of twenty. But I don’t want to steal away any weird sense of normalcy he has left to cling to. More than that, I’m ready to talk and think about anything but the Elites.
“I don’t have practice today,” I tell him, grabbing his hand under the table as I raise my eyebrows suggestively. “Want to go back to your place?”
We’ve both been busy with the start of school, and I’m eager to get him into bed to blow off some steam.
“I have something to take care of after school,” he replies, looking disappointed. But he quickly recovers and leans in close to my ear with the hum of his deep voice that drives me mad. “But soon enough I’ll get you alone and make up for lost time.”
His hand snakes up my thigh, teasing dangerously close between my legs, causing me to tense up with desire. My cheeks blush as I look around to see if anyone is watching. But truthfully, I want him so bad I’m tempted to drag him off to a closet before next period.
We run out of time before I have a chance to suggest sneaking away and before I know it, we’re both rushing off to our next classes. The Elites are gathered in their usual huddle in the hall, taking up more space than they need as a show of dominance.
“Who’s that girl?” Emmett asks, nodding to the brunette.
“Bridgett,” I reply. “She’s in track. Do you know anything about her?”
He shakes his head no and we quickly look away before they catch us staring. I’m still puzzled over the fact that she didn’t freak out on me at practice the other day. Whatever the new Elites are busying themselves with these days, it seems to have been enough to distract them. I expected some sort of backlash for my show of power in the hall the other week, but it has yet to happen.
“I’ll see you after school,” Emmett says, leaning in to kiss me. I notice him shooting one last look over to the Elites before he walks away.
I can tell he’s just as confused by the silence as I am. We expected them to come back with force. Malcolm has to prove himself as their new ringleader after all. Especially after I acted so defiantly on two occasions, even if one was only an accident. But things have been chillingly calm. It almost has us more on edge than we would be if they were attacking like we expected.
The rest of the school day is lost in a haze of taking notes and preparing for exams. With the Elites mostly staying out of our way, I can focus my energy where it's needed. My transcripts may be good enough leading up to now, but it’s all worthless if anything happens to screw up my last few months of high school.
After my last class, Emmett and I meet up in our usual spot near the lockers. He sweeps me up in a slow, deep kiss that only makes me more impatient for some alone time with him. We’re interrupted by a bouncy girl who bounds passed us to put a flyer up on the wall. She tells other students around us that tickets for prom go on sale tomorrow but intentionally ignores us. Likely something she’s been instructed to do by Malcolm and the others.
Senior Prom. Another totally normal high school experience that I haven’t had time to think about since coming here. I immediately push down any urge to go. If the Elites would even allow us to attend, I doubt it’d be something Emmett would want to bother with.
“I’ll get our tickets during lunch tomorrow,” he announces casually, catching me by surprise.
“What?” I gape. “We’re going?”
He looks down at me and wrinkles his brows. “Of course, we’re going,” he answers. “Why do you look so shocked?”
“I…I don’t know…,” I stammer. “I guess I just thought…that you wouldn’t want to. Or…that we couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?” he asks in confusion.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t sell you tickets,” I explain. “Do you really think Malcolm and the others will let us go?” My face drops as a scarier thought pops into my head. “And if they do, you don’t think they’ll try to do something to ruin it for us?”
I shudder, thinking back to Lily’s story about what they did to her at the dance years ago. Only that time, Emmett was one of the Elites. I don’t like to think of him as one of them, but at least it gives us the advantage of him having a pretty good guess at what they may or may not try to pull off.
“Knowing how conceited Bernadette and Malcolm are, they’ll probably be so wrapped up in it for themselves they won’t even have time to care about us,” he insists, not seeming worried.
I want to give in and feel a little excited, but I’m not entirely convinced. “You really think so?”
“A chance to get dressed up in expensive shit and parade around in front of the whole school? They wouldn’t pass that up for anything,” he scoffs. “I’m not going to go try to win prom king or anything, but they’ll let us go. I know that much at least.”
I catch the slightest glimmer of something in his eyes, even through his optimism. Up until a few months ago, he was on track to be prom king with Vivian as his queen. It may be silly, meaningless high school stuff that we’ll forget about by this time next year, but it’s just another reminder of how everything has changed for him.
“So?” he asks expectantly, snapping me back to attention.
“So…what?”
He smirks, looking somewhat shy. “Will you be my date?” he clarifies. “Will go with me to prom?”
It may be a moment that I had entirely forgotten to dream about ever since I started at WJ Prep, but all at once I remember that before this, I was a normal teenage girl with a typical life. Starting high school brought on giddy anticipation for a slew of milestone moments just like this. My hot, dreamy boyfriend asking me to prom.
I can feel the hormones and excitement surge through me as I look into his piercing eyes filled with the promises of a night to remember. Briefly, we get to be just two regular high school students feeling giddy over something as ordinary as prom.
“Of course I’ll go with you,” I snicker, wondering if he could ever really think I’d say no.
He swiftly slides his hand to the small of my back, yanking me in for an earnest kiss as if he really was surprised by my answer. I lose myself there for a moment, once again being reminded of how long its been since we’ve been able to sneak off to be alone.
“I’m going to make it perfect for you,” he promises with a smile the moment his lips part from mine. “The whole works. A fancy dinner and limo and all.”
I chew my lip with worry as he brightly announces his plans while we walk hand in hand down the hall. “Wait,” I stop suddenly, cutting him off. “Emmett…,” All at once, I shrink, realizing I don’t know how to express my concerns without offending him. But he’s wide-eyed and waiting. It’s too late now. “Well, it’s just,” I continue hesitantly, almost in a whisper. “Money…How will you afford all of that?
”
A look of astonishment washes over him as if he had momentarily forgotten about the loss of his fortune. He is still pretty new to living like the rest of us, after all. But he’s quick to recover. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures me, stiffening with a wounded sort of defensiveness. “You just get all dolled up the way you want and let me take care of the rest. I wouldn’t promise you the perfect night if I wasn’t prepared to follow through with it.” His voice darkens some. “Anyway, after everything...you deserve this.”
“Any night with you is perfect,” I insist, hating how corny it sounds, even if it is how I feel. “We could show up in rags after eating McDonalds for all I care. I’m just excited to be going with you.”
He smiles slightly but doesn’t look amused or relieved by my modesty at all. Emmett has had four years of his own dreams and expectations for these last few months of high school. I can only imagine what kind of expensive splendor he always assumed he’d have on his prom night. But suddenly it seems that affording even a fraction of that is some new mission for him to prove he can make it just fine without his family’s fortune.
While he drifts off into a distant, worried stare, likely scheming over ways to make money, I try to force myself to do as he asked. I do my best to forget about how it will all happen and just fantasize about showing up that night on Emmett’s arm, both of us looking better than ever, as I rest my head on his shoulder and dance the night away. Even when I did have time to think about these things, I didn’t think I cared this much. But now that it’s actually happening, I feel like I could burst with excitement.
We’re lost in our separate thoughts as we walk hand in hand out of the school. He stops at the edge of the parking lot and pulls me in for another kiss.
“I’ve got to go,” he says reluctantly. “Remember, I told you I had something to take care of.”
“Oh yeah,” I nod, yanking him back down for one more kiss. “I’ll talk to you later,” I smile, wishing I didn’t have to let him go.
I still have a big grin plastered on my face as I dig my keys out of my purse and walk to my car. But all of that fades as it comes into view. I see what should be my car, but it’s almost disfigured beyond recognition. I even look around for a minute, thinking I’ve made a mistake.
“Fuck,” I murmur to myself, as a tight lump forms in my throat.
The red paint is keyed and chipped down to a patchy gray mess, and over that every foul word you could think of is spray painted in layers. Cunt, whore, slut, bitch, and so on and so on. Any insult you could dream up. A couple of the windows are even cracked in with big circles, as if someone took a baseball bat to them. The only thing that isn’t completely fucked-up about it are the tires. By some miracle, they neglected to flatten them.
I look around cluelessly as if someone would help or tell me how this happened. But even the security camera hanging from the nearby streetlight means nothing. I know exactly who did this, and whether there’s footage or not, no one is going to do anything about it. I knew the Elites had been too quiet. I should have figured they were waiting to strike just when I let my guard down.
With a heavy sigh, I look around one more time, confirming my assumption that no one is going to help or offer me a ride. Emmett is nowhere to be seen, probably already gone.
“Well, I guess it’s still drivable,” I shrug as I unlock the doors. “Even if it’s fucked-up in every other way.”
But my heart sinks even more as I realize the doors aren’t locked. They got inside somehow, and the seats are shredded as proof. As I open the driver’s side door, I quickly realize cutting into the seats is the least of what they did to the interior. An awful ammonia smell slaps me in the face, causing me to gag and turn away as my hand rushes to cover my mouth and nose.
Urine. They’ve managed to drench the seats in urine. I immediately think I should call for someone to come and pick me up, but then I realize one way or another my car will have to make it home for clean up and repairs. And the cost of a tow truck is the last thing any of us need right now. I have prom to save up for after all.
I reluctantly press my fingers to the seat, trying to determine if it’s still wet. There’s a lingering dampness that makes me want to puke, but I force myself to accept that I have to get in this thing and drive it home. I brace myself and pull my sweater over my head to lay it across any part of the seat that will have to touch my body. As I get in and start it up, I’m quickly close to vomiting again as my fingers clutch the gearshift and land in something wet and sticky.
“Chewing gum,” I groan as I pull my fingers back to look. “Disgusting…But I guess not the worst thing they could have stuck under there.”
The longer I sit in the car, the worse the smell gets, and I’m terrified to find out what other kinds of surprises are waiting for me in here. I have to talk myself out of calling someone all over again. Sticking to my guns, I flick away the chewed-up gum, using the passenger seat to wipe any lingering bits of it away. The interior is already fucked anyway. I check a few other spots where nasty things could be planted and finally put the car into reverse.
It’s disgusting, and maybe I’m being too stubborn, but driving this car home is almost like another act of defiance. Once again, they tried to stop me, but they won’t. I refuse to let them, even if it means driving home sitting in urine-soaked seats. Knowing them, they’re hiding somewhere nearby just to watch my mortified reaction. I can’t resist flipping my middle finger out the window as I speed off.
6
Chapter Six
I’m feeling pretty smug in my determination to drive my destroyed, urine-soaked car home. Nothing can stop me. I’ll show those Elites they can’t bring me down. I turn my stereo up full blast and speed off down the winding roads away from the school.
I get a little overzealous and hit a curvy hill too quickly, shrinking my feeling of invincibility. The car handles around it fine, but I decide to bring it down a notch and press my foot to the brakes to slow down a little before the next sharp turn.
I’m startled by the give of the pedal. It sinks straight to the floor with no reaction in the car. Without thinking I raise my foot and lower it again, but to my horror, it drops in empty motions over and over and my car doesn’t even slow down a little. My heart pounds as the realization sets in that I have no way of slowing down and I am flying downhill, quickly approaching a series of sharp turns that I’ll never make at this speed.
Panic brings tears to my eyes, blurring my vision, as my foot slams to the brake as hard as it can. Each time, there’s just an empty push of air. The breath in my lungs becomes just as empty as I fully accept that the brakes are useless, and I hit another abrupt bend in the road. I barely manage to navigate around it before there is another one. The car is going way too fast and starts to shake with a frightening rattle.
With a loud bang that vibrates through my entire body, it flies off the edge of the road, shredding against rocks and trees. It comes to such a sudden stop that my head slams into the steering wheel just before the airbags go off.
The airbag slams my body back against the seat with a stinging force that leaves me completely disoriented. I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest and my head is dizzy and aching. I blink through my blurry vision and try to look around, realizing that at least the car is stopped. But the hood is smoking and squealing, and I can hear the drips and pops coming from underneath, letting me know that it’s completely fucked.
I lean forward to try and get out, but the entire car creaks and moans, wobbling in the air with the shifting weight of my body. My vision quickly grows sharp as I look straight ahead with wide, terrified eyes. The car is wedged over the side of the cliff so far that the front two tires are hanging in the air. I try to move again, more slowly this time, and the whole thing see-saws, threatening to go flying off the edge.
My hands are shaking as I sob to myself for a second, still in shock. I have to get out of here. Being more careful this time, I try to sit
up enough to get a grip on my seat belt, but the car groans and shifts forward again, this time creaking forward even more. I barely hear my own scream as it lunges toward the cliffside with a steep drop down over giant rocks and trees.
There’s a loud crack as the car barely catches on something underneath, maybe a tree. Whatever it is, it momentarily stops it from rolling any further. But the car is at a full downward tilt now and wobbling more with every tiny movement I make. Even the faint weight of my labored breaths seem to be pushing it closer to the edge.
I slowly and carefully inch my hand toward the seat belt buckle, but like the brakes, nothing happens when I push down. The belt is still pulled tight across me from the crash, but the release button does nothing no matter how hard I frantically push it. My urgency causes me to get sloppy, not being careful enough about how much I’m moving, and the car screeches forward another few inches. I freeze in terror.
Now without me moving at all, the car continues giving into gravity an inch at a time, as I accept that the seat belt isn’t going to unbuckle. I take the risk of trying to wiggle out of it, but it’s too tight across my lap and I only make the car teeter even more. A loud snap echoes around me, causing me to take a deep breath as if I’m about to crash into water. But there’s no water below. There’s just a steep drop to certain death.
Still deaf to my own screams and cries, even though I feel them burning through my chest, I try to come to terms with the fact that I am about to die.
A gush of air from my left snaps me out of it just as a pair of hands fly into the car around me and make desperate attempts to loosen the belt enough to rip me out. With a sharp tug to my arms, I feel the seat leave the bottom of my thighs. I go flying through the air, tightly wrapped in someone’s arms, while the sound of whining, twisting metal cries out from a few feet away.
When we hit the ground, I shoot straight up, not fully aware of what’s just happened. The cracking leaves beneath me give the assurance that I’m back on solid ground again, but I look up just in time to see the car slide over the edge and crash down below with a terrible sound.
