by Hart, Rebel
“And what would you do in SoCal, Emmett?” Theo shoots out abruptly, intentionally stirring the pot. “I know you didn’t want to come work for me so that you’d be free to follow Ophelia.”
Emmett stabs back into his food bitterly. “I don’t know,” he sulks. “I obviously haven’t had any time to think about it.”
“I really haven’t decided anything yet,” I defend with an awkward laugh, looking around the table, begging for someone to diffuse this.
“Work for you?” My mom questions, staring Theo down.
Theo looks smug as ever as he prepares to tell her all about his big eco-friendly car plans, but he freezes suddenly and cuts his eyes over to Bridgett. “Where did you say you were from…uh…what was your name?”
“Bridgett,” she replies with an innocent smile. “Bridgett Henderson. We’re from California actually.”
“Uh-huh,” Theo straightens, rolling his tongue across his teeth. “Henderson. That wouldn’t be any relation to…Liam Henderson?”
“He’s my uncle,” she nods, studying my reaction as if she’s asking for my permission to admit it.
A heavy tension falls over the table. Everyone looks deep in thought except Brendan who looks like he’s a million miles away. Most likely just trying to survive another dinner with my mom’s ex until he can finally relax in front of the game with a beer. My mom looks puzzled, probably trying to figure out what kind of new thing Theo is starting now and why he’d try to rope Emmett into it.
Bridgett looks apologetic, like she’s worried she has said something wrong. Or that she’s wrong simply for being related to the Henderson’s at all. Theo keeps his mouth shut, eyeing her every so often like she’s a traitor over enemy lines.
And Emmett is silently stewing, still stabbing away at his food, and is probably getting more salt in his wounds from this dinner than anyone. He hates the Henderson’s for stealing everything from him, yet he’s sitting right next to one of them, even if she’s only related by blood. With her family’s ownership of Jameson Automobiles and Theo’s big plans to start his own thing, I can see how he’d feel like the only one without a piece of the pie. Even though it was his birthright.
“Well, this has been pleasant as always,” I scoff under my breath.
“What was that dear?” my mom asks with a naïve sweetness.
I shake my head and practically hold my breath, impatiently waiting for this whole thing to finally be over.
“Spring will be here soon,” Brendan announces randomly in his deep, gruff voice. “I’m already seeing termites all over the poles around town. We’ve had to treat everything. They’ll be bad this year. Which reminds me, honey. We need to go ahead and treat the house too.”
Theo darts his eyes between them, looking oddly jealous. “That’s right, Brendan. You’re an electrician, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” he grunts, not looking up from his plate.
“Maybe you could teach Emmett your line of work,” he suggests snidely. “He’ll need something to do to take care of our Ophelia. Since she won’t take any help from me.”
There’s a loud clanking noise, and it takes me a second to realize it’s my own fork crashing to my plate. “I’m driving the car you gave me and using the phone. Isn’t that enough?” I bark, throwing my napkin over what’s left of my food. My appetite is completely gone now. “And Emmett doesn’t have to take care of me. I’m not his responsibility.” I pull my chair out from the table and turn to Bridgett. “Hey, do you want to see my room while you’re here?”
“Ophelia!” my mom scolds. “She’s not even done eating yet. Let the poor girl finish.”
“No, it’s okay!” Bridgett says quickly. “I’m full. Thank you, though. It was delicious.” She pushes out of her chair and jumps up to follow me.
“You coming?” I ask Emmett.
“I’ll be up in a little bit,” he answers, looking stiff and rigid.
I shrug and lead Bridgett to the stairs. It feels weird to abandon Emmett down there, but I can’t stand sitting across Theo for another second.
“Phew, and I thought my family’s dinners were tense,” Bridgett exclaims when we’re finally in the privacy of my room.
“I’m so sorry,” my cheeks blush. “You probably would have been better off going to Liam’s, huh? If I had known Theo would be here…”
“No, it’s okay,” she assures me. “I understand. Trust me. You don’t have to apologize for the crazy shit your family does.” She looks around my somewhat messy room. “Hey, what’s that?” she asks suddenly, reaching toward the old journal on my bed. “Do you keep a diary?”
I panic and snatch the book up, quickly throwing it into my dresser. When I turn back around, Bridgett is frozen with a stunned sort of look.
“If I tell you what that is, you have to promise not to tell anyone,” I sigh, figuring I’ve told her all my other secrets just about. Why stop now? She nods and agrees. “It’s one of Marissa Jameson’s old diaries. They gave it to Emmett for some reason, but he didn’t want it. So…I took it. But he doesn’t know,” my voice drops to a whisper, realizing he could walk in at any time.
“Whoa, I bet that’s quite a read,” she gapes. “Marissa scares me.”
“She always did me too,” I agree as we both sit on the edge of the bed. “But…reading that diary…I don’t know. It’s from when she was about our age. And she doesn’t seem so bad. It’s almost scarier to think she used to be just a normal girl. But then Thomas and the life of the Elites…something about it must have broken her along the way.”
She gets a distant look in her eye as if she understands all too well. We go back to talk about normal things, and by the time Emmett joins us it actually seems perfect that she’s here. Of course, I would’ve preferred my mom not telling Theo about SoCal or him not announcing it at the dinner table. But if all that had to happen, Bridgett turned out to be the perfect buffer. I can tell he is itching to talk about it, but after a while, he has to offer to drive Bridgett home instead. I just stay hidden in my room, hoping Theo left in peace without doing any more damage.
15
Chapter Fifteen
Emmett and I sit in awkward silence with nothing but the sounds of us quietly chewing our food, which seems louder with the absence of words. Beyond our little bubble sits the rest of the high school cafeteria, filled with laughter and everyone trying to talk over each other.
In the middle of it all is the Elite table. I have started a daily habit of studying Bridgett as she sits with them, but she’s smart enough to know not to stare back at me. She always sits, eating quietly, seeming completely detached from whatever the rest of them are talking about around her. She wasn’t kidding about preferring to keep her head down and stay out of their business the best she can.
I turn back to Emmett who seems determined not to look at me. “You okay?” I ask finally. He nods with a grunt, not saying anything. “I’m sorry Theo blurted that out about California,” I add. “I was going to talk to you about it, but I’ve been stressed and nervous about it all. Coach is putting a lot of pressure on me to make a decision…not to mention all the money stuff with my parents.”
“So, it’s true then?” he perks up. “That’s your top choice so far?”
“I…I don’t know yet,” I reply, feeling frustrated. “You know…I just said I was under a lot of pressure. It’s not exactly the response I was hoping for…For you to add to that feeling.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“What the fuck?” I mutter, wondering where the attitude is coming from.
“Hey, I’m leaving early today, so I won’t see you after school,” he states casually, still seeming irritated with me.
“Oh…okay…well…what for?” I ask in confusion.
He barely lifts his head, scrunching up his face. “Huh?”
“What are you leaving early for?”
Commotion rises from the corner of the room, distracting both
of us. Our heads whip around to see that Malcolm has left his lunch table and is pummeling some guy against the wall. Everyone watches in discomfort, but we all know better than to try and interfere. Their fight dissipates after a few minutes and everyone goes back to pretending everything is fine and normal. Who knows what that guy did to bring on Malcolm’s wrath.
I look back to Emmett, always feeling uncomfortable with any reminder that those are the kinds of things he used to do. Then I’m eager to hear why he’s leaving early, but before I can ask again he quickly stands and starts gathering his things.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he blurts coldly before walking away with his tray.
He’s too far away for me to yell after him, and with Malcolm already riled up, I don’t want to draw any attention to us. I’m not done eating yet, but I can’t just let Emmett walk away and leave things so tense. I leave my food and go chasing after him.
“Hey!” I call out just as he’s rounding the corner in the hall. “Wait up!” He stops and turns towards me, but his eyes dart all around, still avoiding me. “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean? Nothing,” he shrugs.
“You’re acting so weird,” I point out, annoyed that he seems to think I’m too stupid to notice. Or that I would let him get away with it.
“Just a lot on my mind,” he says quietly. “I have to go, okay?” He kisses my forehead and takes off again, leaving me with a nagging feeling in my gut.
It doesn’t seem like it’d do any good to chase after him again, so not knowing what else to do, I slowly turn and begin making my way back into the lunchroom. I walk with my brows furrowed and my head down, muttering under my breath the whole way. I hate it when I know something is going on with him, but he refuses to tell me what it is.
I can’t ignore how guilty I feel. I should have talked to him about California rather than treating him like some pity case who wouldn’t be able to work it out with me. Who am I to say he wouldn’t be able to find some kind of job there? Furthermore, what kind of job am I going to find there? I’m not ready to give up on the possibility just yet, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to take Theo’s money if it comes down to that.
As I get closer to the cafeteria, I see Bridgett coming through the double doors. She’s making her early escape to class, like she always does, avoiding whatever new drama could erupt in the hallways between periods.
“Hey!” I smile, knowing no one else is around.
But she breezes right past me like I don’t exist, ignoring me completely. It scares me at first, bringing back memories of the times Lily turned on me, but then the doors behind her swing open again as Malcolm and a few of his other cronies come filing out. They’re pumping fists, likely congratulating each other on their little show of dominance in the cafeteria. Malcolm doesn’t see me standing there at first and bumps straight into my shoulder.
“Watch where you’re going, whore,” he sneers, shooting me a look of pure hatred and disgust.
I ignore him and go through the doors, feeling relieved to know Bridgett probably ignored me because she knew they were right behind her. I sit back down at my tray with a heavy sigh, knowing my food is probably cold now.
I take a sip of my water, thinking it tastes a little weird. Then just as I am about to take a bite of my burger, I notice it has some kind of weird powdery substance on it that wasn’t there before. I throw it back down to the tray. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but it definitely seems like somebody tampered with my food. Not wanting to take any risks, I decide to just throw it all out.
Great, first they tried to kill me in my car, now they try to poison me. I think to myself as I return to the hall, still feeling hungry. It’s almost time for my next period now and the rest of the students are beginning to spill out to the lockers. I stop at my own to switch out the textbooks in my backpack, but I immediately notice that the lock is undone.
I look around over my shoulders, trying to determine if anyone is watching me. If there is something gross in my locker or anything that could jump out or spill over me, the Elites would likely be waiting nearby to watch it happen. But they’re nowhere in sight as far as I can tell. I consider not opening it at all just to be safe, but we’re studying for an exam in my next class and I need the book.
Bracing myself, I pull open the metal door. I jump slightly at the sight of a barbie doll hanging there by a noose. There’s a note dangling beside her. I yank them both down and quickly grab my book, not wanting anyone to see me freak out over the sight. I don’t want to give whoever did this that kind of satisfaction. I march off towards my next class, tossing the doll and noose into the garbage on the way.
I stash the note away in my backpack, refusing to let myself read it until after school. I just want to forget it even happened so I can focus on my schoolwork. Through some extreme form of dissociation, I manage to block the letter’s existence out of my head. By the time I’m walking to practice I think, I’ve made it this far without knowing what it says. Why not go a little longer?
The mystery of the letter is the perfect fuel for practice, spurring me on to run faster and harder. Once practice is over, I figure I’ve waited long enough. Brendan’s prediction about Spring coming soon was spot on, and the evening air is less chilly than usual. I sit on the bleachers alone after everyone else has gone inside to shower up and pull the folded note out of my backpack.
“What’s that?” Bridgett asks suddenly from over my shoulder, causing me to jump.
“It was in my locker today,” I reply. “Along with a doll on a noose. Do you know anything about it?”
“No,” she scoffs, looks offended. “Why would you think I’d know about it?”
“I didn’t mean to…accuse you or anything like that. I just didn’t know if you had overheard any of the Elites talking about leaving something like this for me,” I explain.
“I would’ve tried to warn you if I had,” she says, sitting down next to me. “What does it say?”
I hand the note over to her, more than ready to get it out of my hands. She reads over the cut and collaged letters spelling out a warning for me to watch my back and that I might not be so lucky next time.
“What the hell does that mean?” she winces.
“It has to be from whoever fucked with my car and almost killed me,” I tell her. “We can both take a pretty good guess at who might have done that.”
“Can we?”
“Oh, come on,” I huff. “You know Malcolm and the Elites are behind this. No offense, I know you’re technically one of them. But they’re not like you. They’re cruel and heartless, and they hate me.”
She nods and looks thoughtfully out over the track field. I wish I knew what she’s thinking, but it definitely doesn’t seem like she’s hiding anything. I believe her when she says she didn’t know anything about it.
“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “Uncle Liam has been keeping Malcolm so busy with Jameson Automobiles and their software company. I can’t imagine him taking time away from all that to send you death threats. Not saying he wouldn’t do something like that. It just doesn’t make sense right now…timing-wise.”
“What about Bernadette or one of the others?” I suggest. “I mean, Malcolm had time to beat that guy up in the cafeteria today. I can’t totally rule it out.” We sit, quietly contemplating everything for a moment, when suddenly I remember my food being tampered with after I chased Emmett down. “Hey, did you see anyone near my tray before you left the lunchroom today?”
“No, why?”
“It looked like there was something on it. Something that wasn’t there before,” I divulge, thinking I must sound crazy and paranoid.
“Holy shit,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “Someone’s really out to get you, Ophelia. Are you scared?”
I consider the question carefully. I feel on edge and nervous. But scared? When I think of scared, I think of Emmett holding me while his father groped me or having a gun
shoved in my face. Recording a hostage video pleading for my life. Maybe my perception is too skewed now, but it takes a lot for me to feel afraid these days.
“At least they warned me this time,” I laugh darkly. “Now I know to be on the lookout for someone trying to kill me. It’s considerate really…if you think about it.”
“Girl, that’s fucked-up,” she smirks. “That’s what I like to call Jameson humor.”
“Ha! I’m sure Emmett would appreciate that term,” I cry out, thinking it feels good to laugh. No matter how fucked-up the situation might be.
“Hey, I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” Bridgett says cautiously. “You don’t think…well…Emmett. He wouldn’t…would he?”
I stare at her blankly, not knowing what she means at first. She nudges the letter in my hands and then it clicks. “Leave me death threats!?” I shriek. “No, no way!”
“Oh, okay. Good,” she answers quickly. “I just…I don’t know. The way you described him before…I know he’s changed and everything, but…If you don’t think he could do something like that, I believe you.”
“Of course, he couldn’t!” I proclaim confidently, but a seed of doubt bounces around inside. The memory of all the torture and humiliation from before doesn’t just disappear, even if it does seem like it came from an entirely different person than the Emmett I have come to know and love. It’s hard to replay those images in my mind without thinking he could be capable of something like this. But why?
“Huh,” I blurt suddenly, panicking as I think it over more. “He was being so weird today. And he left early. The day of my accident…he left early then too.” I look over to Bridgett who is shooting me a sympathetic look, seeming to say: that doesn’t sound good.
“I’m sure you’re right though,” she offers. “He wouldn’t do something like that. He loves you. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just know how fucked-up people in Jameson can be. Sometimes it’s hard to know who you can trust.”
