The Wicked Truth

by Pru Schuyler

  I make it to school early today. Not too bad of a start.

  Cal, Marty, and I have to wait until tonight for the next step in our plan. Brady and his family are going out of town to visit some relatives today. Thank God Mrs. Carver said Brooke couldn’t go. I would have had to throw the entire plan out the window and tell her everything if she tried to go with him.

  We need to get him to admit it. We need his undying confession, and then he’s done. Brooke will be free from him forever. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me, but I’m miserable without her, my partner in crime, by my side.

  Her and Cade’s birthday is Friday. I heard they’re throwing a party. But as expected, I didn’t get an invite.

  I miss him so much. The pain has radiated deep in my bones. Not a second of the day goes by that I don’t wish I were with him, in his embrace. I miss the warm, woodsy smell of him, my sense of home.

  But this is bigger than him, bigger than us. Even if they never speak to me again, it will be worth putting Brady behind bars. That scumbag is dating his victim, and no one knows but Cal, Marty, and me. If all goes well, Brooke will get her truth soon. She’ll be able to get away from him, heal, and one day move past this.

  The day seems to fly by, and I’m ready to get out of here. When I walk out of Bio, my seventh period, Cade is waiting by my car. His feet are kicked out in front of him, and he’s wearing that damn leather jacket I love. My heart contracts, and wrenching pain throbs through my body.

  His eyes find mine before I get near him, like we are always aware where the other is. I have to stop myself from running into his arms, from claiming his lips with mine. Flashes of our night together rush through my mind, drowning me in my own love. My body is hyperaware of his movements as I approach him. I want nothing more than to run to him. But I can’t. Not yet.

  “Hey. Can we talk?” Cade’s familiar deep voice cuts into my soul.

  I keep my eyes locked on the small paint chip on my car. “I don’t know, Cade. I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.” I can’t meet his eyes. Tears are already threatening my resolve.

  He steps out to me, and his fingers graze my arm, sending those damn fireworks burning through my skin. He lowers his broken, cracking voice. “Stella, please talk to me. I don’t care about my sister’s damn journal anymore, okay? I miss you. I need you back, Stels. I’m dying without you.”

  His fingers caress my arm. My soul calls out to him. But my body keeps me in place.

  My heart cracks open. “Cade.” His name barely comes out as a whisper. I pull my arm out of his grasp and step around him to my car door. “I just can’t right now. Please understand.” My control is slipping fast. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  He turns and takes a couple steps away from me.

  But he doesn’t give up. “Why? Why won’t you just talk to me? Goddammit, Stella!” He smacks his hand on my car.

  He rushes toward me and takes my cheeks in his hands, tilting my head up to him. His emerald-green eyes grab control of my being, locking me into his gaze. “Fuck. Stella, I love you. I have for a while now, and I can’t fucking sleep anymore. I can’t breathe without thinking about you, without wanting to touch you again.” He tucks the strand of stray hair behind my ear. “I love you, and you won’t even explain what’s going on. Now, you’re hanging out with Callum Jones? I want to understand. Stella, I want to be with you. I want to scream to the world that Stella Sullivan is mine. That you have my heart and always will. I love you, and that is never going to change. Just let me in, please.” He leans his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, his tears falling onto my cheeks.

  I lose my control. The world fades, and all that remains is the face of the boy I love. But unfortunately, this isn’t our time. When this is said and done, I hope he can forgive me. I hope he will still feel the same way.

  My willpower fails me. Tears stream down my cheeks, mixing with his. I can’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Cade. I have to go.”

  He wipes my tears away before releasing me, watching the girl he loves walk away from him. Pain I’ve never known takes the form of a dagger and strikes me through the heart.

  The drive home is blurry. I can’t remember a single turn. And when I pull into Cal’s, my brain is empty of thought, like without Cade, I can’t even function. I throw my car in park next to Marty’s.

  Marty and Brady have been friends since the fifth grade. He knows Brady’s house like the back of his hand. He also knows their security system is fake, made to scare intruders while not costing any real money.

  Marty planned our path in and out—Brady’s bedroom window. This is our one shot to try and find Brooke’s necklace. It’s the only piece of evidence that will nail him to the wall.

  Cal’s front door opens before I can knock.

  “Hey, Stella. You ready?” Cal asks as Marty walks up behind him, dressed in all black.

  A distant chuckle escapes my lips. He looks like he’s about to rob a bank. But my mind still lingers on my conversation with Cade earlier. I’m lost in pain and misery, but I need to focus.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” I shake my hands in hopes that my agony will fall off my fingers.

  Cal’s brow furrows. “Are you okay? You seem out of it.”

  They both step outside, and Cal has his gran’s keys in hand. We decided to take Gran’s car because it’s unrecognizable compared to his cherry-red Charger.

  I push Cade out of my brain as best I can. “Yeah, sorry. I’m here, I promise.”

  We all get into the car as Cal says, “All right, let’s do this.” He runs his fingers through his wavy brown hair and then starts the engine.

  No biggie, just a little breaking and entering. My anxiety has been up the wall since this morning. Knowing that this is either going to make or break our plan is terrifying. All of this is relying on us being able to get ahold of her necklace.

  We drive most of the way in silence. Cal runs us through our course one more time before we drive onto Brady’s street. When he pulls the car to a stop and cuts the engine, the adrenaline starts kicking through me. I’ve never broken into someone’s house before to take something.

  Well, without a key to the front door.

  Dark clouds cover the night sky. We exit the car and keep in the shadows as we walk the perimeter to his back fence. Marty leads the way; his steps are natural. It’s a path he’s taken hundreds of times as a kid with Brady. My heart aches for the friendship they are all losing.

  Marty reaches the gate to the fence first and easily maneuvers the lock Brady and he used to pick to sneak in and out of at night. He opens the gate and lets Cal and me go through first before closing it behind him. Marty takes the lead once again and walks straight to Brady’s window. He lifts it open, and we all take a deep breath before entering Brady’s pitch-black bedroom.

  Marty fumbles around in the darkness. A switch flips, and light floods the room. It looks normal. It looks like a normal teenage boy’s room. But we all know this is really a monster’s lair.

  We look around at the strewn clothes on the floor, the dark blue comforter messed up on the bed, all the shoes stacked in the corner, and the closet door open to hangers full of clothes.

  Without a word, we stick to our plan—search the room for the necklace or any clues we can find. Marty heads into the en suite, and Cal starts digging in the closet and shelves above.

  I head to the mattress and flip it up. My eyes widen. “Eww.” I drop the mattress back down to cover the dirty magazines.

  I crawl down on the floor to check around the bed and underneath. He can’t be stupid enough to have left the necklace out or in an easy hiding space. Especially when the owner of the necklace is his current girlfriend.

  Has she been here? Has she slept here? Thoughts and images race through my mind, twisting my stomach.

  Marty comes out of the en suite. “Nothing.” He sighs.

  Cal steps out of the closet. “I got nothing too, Stella.” He frowns.


  I slap my palm on the bed, pent-up anger ready to explode. “It has to be here. It doesn’t make any sense. We should recheck each other’s spaces.”

  “Good idea.” Marty steps to take over the closet, and Cal shifts to my spot.

  I head into the bathroom and begin my search. I throw open all the doors, careful not to make any obvious changes, as I don’t want to raise any suspicion. “Toothpaste, Q-tips, towels, deodorant,” I mumble off.

  I freeze when I pass over the box of condoms. The condoms he might be using with Brooke. Every part of my body is disgusted with him; it’s a hatred I have never felt before. He truly is a monster, a psychopath. I want to hurt him. I will make him pay.

  After successfully combing through every inch of the bathroom, I head out, feeling even more defeated.

  “Anything?” I beg.

  They both look up to me with sadness in their eyes and shake their heads. We switch places one last time.

  I walk into the closet, and instead of digging, I look at the big picture. I look for anything out of place. I start at the far-right corner and start scanning left. Everything is normal—no floorboards out of place, no wonky pieces in the wall. I push all the clothes out of the way to one side to look at the back wall. Empty. There’s no painting or safe or anything that could conceal her necklace.

  I work the rest of the way across until my body shakes from defeat, from the horror that he might get away with this. I don’t know how he could’ve hidden this side of himself from everyone for so long. I mean, they all grew up together. Little did anyone know, Brady has been someone else this whole time, hiding the monster behind the mask of the friendliest guy.

  When I finally reach the left side of his closet with no leads or finds, I collapse to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.

  Sobs burst out of me—from fear of losing, from the anger boiling over. He can’t win. It isn’t fair. My best friend is dating her fucking rapist, and I can’t prove it’s him. It’d be his word against mine, and right now, she wouldn’t believe a word I said.

  I find my feet and let some of my frustration out, kicking the duffel bag on the floor. It slides all the way across the hardwood, stopping in the corner underneath some hanging clothes. I sulk over to it. I have to put it back; nothing can look out of place.

  Bending down, I squint my eyes to find the bag. I hook the strap in my hand and yank, but it doesn’t budge. It’s caught on something. I scoot all the way under the clothes, and my heart kicks up. The handle is caught on a slightly bent floorboard piece. I take a deep breath to steady the hope beaming in my chest.

  I drop to the floor once more and slip under his clothes to the corner, near the loose floorboard. I hook my finger under the bent corner and lift. It comes up immediately. The piece of wood was sawed to create a perfect little hiding hole. I set the loose piece next to me and close my eyes as I drop my hand down into it.

  My heart is pounding out of my chest. I lower my hand another inch, and it smacks into something hard. I slowly curl my fingers around it and pull out a small wooden box with the initials BS—Brady Sommers.

  I fumble to my feet and burst into the main room of his bedroom, my heart smacking into my ribs. “Guys, I got it. I think I got it!” I hustle over to them and show them the closed box.

  “Open it!” Marty shoots out.

  I slide the silver-plated hook out of the loop and slowly lift the lid.

  Nothing … nothing will ever be the same.

  Sometimes, the truth is better left buried.

  My stomach twists sharp, and bile rises. “Oh God.” I rush to the toilet, dropping to my knees. I let my dinner contents spew out.

  Cal rushes in behind me, patting me on the back. “Are you okay?”

  My stomach is still writhing. I lift my head from the toilet bowl and bring the box around for them to see.

  Their eyes widen in horror, color draining from their bodies. This is so much worse than we could have ever imagined.

  Inside the box lies Brooke’s B necklace.

  Next to it lies a second necklace with a B initial and a silver diamond bracelet.

  When I get back home, I’m numb. I feel so much, but it’s far away, like my brain has been severed from my heart.

  Luckily, my mom’s working late again, so I don’t have to put a mask on right now to hide everything. I mindlessly float to my bedroom and crash down to my bed.

  Cal, Marty, and I barely spoke after we left Brady’s house. We couldn’t find any words. After we covered up the broken floorboard again, Cal took the wooden box with him. We decided to meet up tomorrow to figure out what we are going to do with it. I roll over, nausea still twisting my insides, and I take my journal from my nightstand.

  Without thinking, I put pen to paper, and I let it flow. I start with a letter to Cade, spilling my love onto the page. Then I turn to my journal. And I pour everything into it, every single thought of hate and anger and sorrow I’ve experienced. I write everything—how we found out it was Brady, how I came to discover he has three victims. I don’t stop until I’m empty and my hand has blisters bleeding down my fingers from my grip on the pen.

  I lay my journal back on my nightstand and crash into the all-familiar darkness. Maybe my demons can help me feel tonight.

  TWENTY-ONE

  I dread going to school today. Knowing for a fact that my best friend is dating her rapist makes me want to kill him. But tonight, she will know who he truly is. This will all end tonight.

  I tucked my journal into my bag this morning, like a crutch I very much need today. I open the door to the school and head to my locker. Hopefully, Cade is already in the classroom, so I won’t have to face him this morning.

  As I turn the corner, I’m out of luck—shocking. Cade is digging in his locker, shoving notebooks into his bag. When I approach, he turns to me, dark bags under his eyes. It’s his birthday today. Well, both his and Brooke’s. I wrote him a letter last night, telling him everything—confessing my love for him and why I did what I had to.

  “Good morning.” He won’t meet my eyes, his gaze locked on the blue metal.

  I force a smile that cuts me. He will understand soon enough; he’ll get it. He has to.

  “Um, this is for you. Please don’t, um …” I hand him the envelope. “Please don’t open it till midnight. Okay?” I search for his eyes, begging him to meet my gaze, craving the feel of his eyes on me again.

  He takes the envelope but keeps his eyes on his locker or the floor—anywhere but on me. “Okay, thanks,” he mumbles. He slams his locker and stalks away.

  I know he’s hurt, and he has no idea how much keeping my distance from him kills me. I love him, and he won’t even look at me right now. But the letter will explain everything, and I’m just praying he will forgive me.

  Tears well in my eyes as I find my seat in class. I push them down when I see Brady talking to Brooke. His presence alone makes me rage, and I swear, I am going to burn him, burn him to the ground.

  Tonight, everything will change.

  The rest of the day goes by excruciatingly slow. Brooke is latching on to Brady even more in the absence of our friendship. I just want to scream it to her. But I can’t. And I won’t. I spend the rest of my classes running tonight’s plan over and over in my head.

  When I get home, I collect the mail from the mailbox since Mom isn’t here yet. When I pull my hand out of it, I almost scream. In my hand lies two big letters, addressed to me. One from the University of Colorado and one from the University of Denver. I rush into the house, throw my backpack to the ground, and head to the table.

  The University of Colorado is my number one choice. It’s private, it has a beautiful campus, and it’s semi-close to home. I grab the envelope and tear the top clear off. I empty the contents onto the table and grab the typed letter.

  I read aloud to myself, “Stella Sullivan, we are pleased to announce your acceptance into the University of Colorado. Ahh!” I jump up and down.


  I reach for my phone to share my news, only to be smacked down by the hand of reality. I have no one to call. My mom’s at work, and Brooke and Cade definitely don’t want me shoving my good news in their faces on their birthday.

  My knees go weak, and I sink to the floor, clutching my letter tight to my chest. The familiar knife of loneliness slices through.

  Was this all worth it—pushing everyone I love away to solve my best friend’s darkest secret? What if she doesn’t want to know? What if this just pushes them further and further away? What if I lose Cade forever?

  My throat goes dry, and the lump tries to burst through my chest.

  But it’s too late. I can’t go back. I can’t change any step I’ve taken. In the end, if I lose everyone, at least I will have given them everything I could.

  When I head downstairs for dinner, I’m stopped by low-speaking voices. I didn’t know we were having company tonight. I close my eyes to try to heighten my hearing. But I don’t recognize the man’s voice. The only other voice is my mom’s. Weird. I walk into the kitchen, and they both stop talking and turn to me.

  My mom steps to me and nods to the unknown man in the middle of my house. He is about a foot taller than her, and she has at least a few inches on me. He has combed-back dark brown hair and brown eyes.

  “This is James. I thought it was time for you guys to finally meet.” Her hand shakes slightly as she gestures to him.

  Oh, right! She has been going on those dates lately. How could I have completely forgotten?

  Oh yeah, maybe because I’ve been spending all my free time breaking into people’s houses.

  My mom seems super nervous. She must really like him.

  I stride forward and shake his outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, James.”

  He shakes it and softly smiles. He tries to pull his hand away, but instead, I yank him forward. He lets me pull him down to my level.

  I lean in and whisper in his ear, “You hurt her, and I’ll kill you, plain and simple.” My tone is level and completely serious.