by Nicole Deese
The other Sasha.
I’d never been great with math story problems, but in my mind, there was only one of two solutions here. Either Monica was the best actress I’d ever encountered, or Sasha’s ever-increasing defiance was directly linked to a stockpile of stolen property and inappropriate relations in the garden shed.
As the girls burst through the front door of the cottage, full of giggly energy and excited chatter, I willed the tumultuous rollercoaster in my gut to halt. I had one chance to check my theory, and if I was correct, then maybe, possibly, it might be enough for Sasha to finally let me in. After all, she’d never needed an ally more than she did tonight.
“Wow! Is this for real?” Jasmine and Amy squealed as they entered the living room, noting the dining room table I’d dragged in there earlier and set up like a makeup counter kiosk.
“You brought all this makeup for us? Oh my gosh! Look at these cute pink washcloths and hair clips! I’ve never seen so many products in one place.”
Immediately, the girls found their sparkly name tags marking their individual stations. Each was equipped with a mirror, skincare set, and full-size makeup and hair products.
A chorus of thank-yous rang out around the room, and I worked to match their enthusiasm.
“I hope you all have so much fun tonight. Feel free to play and experiment as you’d like, and I’ll make my rounds to help anyone who may want some extra pointers. I recommend starting with the skincare. Just follow the tips I’ve printed on the card there.”
I’d been looking forward to their reactions for weeks, only now, in light of my recent discovery, my joy felt muted at best. I glanced at Sasha’s empty station, and again my stomach roiled. What would be worth giving all this up for? A guy? Surely that couldn’t be all of it.
“I’ll start taking before and after pics when the rest of the girls get here,” Amy said, slipping her phone from her pocket. “I don’t have the best camera on here or anything, but they’ll be fun to look at later. Jas, maybe we can make a collage for the bulletin board in the fireside room.”
“Great idea,” I said, moving to the open doorway to scan for Sasha’s arrival. But instead of seeing her faded pink hair and sharp features, I saw a giant popcorn machine being shoved down the cobblestone path and into the cottage by a tiny woman I’d come to adore. Clara was on a mission.
“On the count of three,” she instructed Monica and Wren from somewhere behind the red and white mass. “One, two, three!”
A collective grunt followed as the popcorn machine was pushed over the threshold and into the kitchen, leaving me no place to go but out the back door, into the grassy common area. Though it was dusk, it took me only a second to register a nearby silhouette. Standing alone, backlit by a moody skyline of swirling grays, blues, and fuchsias, was Sasha.
“Sasha, hey,” I said, my pulse galloping as I approached. “I’ve been looking for you. How’s your day been?”
She gave a half twist of her hips at my words, enough to indicate she’d heard me, seen me, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.
“Don’t make it personal, Molly.” Clara’s peppy voice circled in my brain, and I continued without missing a beat. “Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to have a minute of quiet, especially after you’ve been surrounded by lots of people all day. Sunsets are a great time to do that.” Squaring up to her, I almost missed the way her gaze shifted to the corner of her eye. It was a minuscule reaction, but one I’d roll with anyway. “I was actually out on a quiet walk earlier today myself. Didn’t go anywhere too far, just kind of stayed around the west garden. Such a pretty area. I especially love those wild teacup roses. I think that’s what they’re called; I’m not very good with flower species. Glo’s constantly pointing new greenery out to me, and it seems like no matter how many times I walk that path, there’s always something new to discover. Some bush or plant or tiny bird’s nest that I didn’t take note of the time before.”
Though her eye roll and sigh were clearly meant for me, I was too far in to back out now. My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, so much so that I wondered if she could hear it, too.
“In fact, just this afternoon I saw something new. Something I would have missed completely if the door to that cute little garden shed hadn’t been cracked open.” I casually slipped the stolen sunglasses off my head and onto my face, shading the amber glare of the setting sun from my eyes as Sasha’s ever-cool façade was replaced by an expression I’d never seen her wear. Her body went rigid beside mine, a visible panic flashing in her eyes.
I remembered then how Silas had responded once when I’d asked him about confessions, as if the very idea of a resident admitting wrongdoing prior to getting caught was ludicrous. And perhaps he was right.
Then again, perhaps he didn’t have to be.
“You can’t prove anything.” Her words were clipped, icy.
“You’re right. I can’t yet, and to be honest with you, Sasha, I don’t want to have to prove anything. Because I’m hoping you’ll let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
Which was exactly what I’d figured she’d say. “That’s probably true, but I think you need it.”
Sasha twisted her body to face me head on. “And so what? If I play nice with you, tell you all my dirty secrets, then you’ll keep my sins hidden from your boyfriend?”
I hadn’t expected that. Not even a little bit. Glo and Clara knew about Silas and me—we’d told them, of course—but we had been so careful while on campus. We didn’t touch, we didn’t flirt, and we definitely didn’t discuss the status of our personal relationship with the residents.
Her laugh was nothing more than a weakened rush of air. “Secrets don’t keep long here. Obviously.”
I willed myself to dig deeper. In all my time at the house, this was the most Sasha had ever spoken to me. Times three. “I would imagine that carrying around such a heavy secret would start to weigh on a person. That at some point, even if they wanted to come clean, they might feel like it was already too late. Like there was no hope left for them even if they wanted to change.”
This time, she had no response.
I lifted the glasses away from my eyes and folded them into my hand. “But there is hope. We all make mistakes. We all choose the wrong path at times. Nobody has to stay there, though. You don’t have to stay there, either.” I took a breath and silently prayed she would accept my next words. “I can’t promise you there won’t be consequences, but I can promise that if you’re willing to come clean and confess, those consequences will be less.”
Her jaw ticked back and forth, an inner battle raging behind her veiled expression.
“I bet if I were Wren, all I’d have to do is bat my pretty little eyelashes and all my sins would be forgiven.”
Deflection. I recognized the tactic immediately. “We’re not talking about Wren. We’re talking about you.”
“But maybe we should be talking about Wren.” She glared me down. “It’s her fault.”
Though I felt an instant defensiveness flare up in my spirit, I worked hard to keep my voice in check. “How so?”
Sasha shook her head, and I knew she was calculating how much she could say. “Forget it. It’s not like someone like you could ever understand.”
“Someone like me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Like you. Pretty. Rich. Gets everything she’s ever wanted just by matching her lipstick to her designer handbag. Your life is like a freaking fairy tale, only worse. More pathetic.”
It was getting more and more difficult to channel my inner Clara as I breathed through my nose. “My life hasn’t been a fairy tale—”
“Whatever. Just . . . do whatever you need to do. I don’t care anymore.” She started to turn, and I reached out for her arm, just above her elbow.
“I don’t believe that for a minute. I think you do care, Sasha. I think you’re angry because of how much you care.”
She ripped her arm away
from me as if I’d burned her. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Then tell me.” The internal fire stoked in my gut matched her intensity. “Tell me what you think somebody like me can’t possibly understand about someone like you.”
Fury erupted from her throat. “How ’bout how it feels to lose your only friend? Let’s start there!”
Her words knocked the breath from my lungs as the image of Val’s face swam just out of reach. Unfortunately, I did understand that. Too well. It took me a minute to recover, to push the sting down the way I always did when the guilt of losing Val over my own stupidity slipped back into my subconscious. “I understand more than you know, actually. It’s horrible. A pain I wouldn’t wish on anybody. I’m so sorry.”
She sniffed and glanced away.
In her silence, I took another stab in the dark. “Am I right to assume you’re talking about Monica?”
“She’s a traitor.”
“What happened between you two?” Because maybe if I could understand what went wrong between them, I might understand how she got to the place she was in now.
“We had a plan. And she ruined it.” She sharpened her glare. “Life sucks.”
Though her explanation brought more confusion than it did clarity, I could tell she was closing off to me again. Pulling down an iron gate I likely wouldn’t be able to get through again, even if it meant her walking to the gallows alone.
Timidly, I touched her shoulder. “Sasha, I want to help you, but I can’t keep what I found this afternoon a secret from Silas. I do want to give you an opportunity to tell him yourself, and you wouldn’t have to do it alone. I would go with you.”
The back door to the cottage opened behind us. “Ah, there you two are. Everything okay out here?”
As I turned to answer Glo, Sasha’s unblinking gaze focused on me. Like a dare.
Like a test.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” I said.
“All right. Well, Silas is waiting for you out front, Molly. Oh, and Clara’s made each of you a bowl of popcorn. The girls just started The Proposal a few minutes ago. They have their clay masks on. Looks like a Halloween party in there.”
“Great. Thanks for the update,” I said as casually as possible while a nineteen-year-old stared at me like she could sift through my soul. “We’ll be right in.”
Glo closed the door once more, and I mentally prepared for the conversation I’d need to have with Silas in a matter of minutes, wondering if his protocol would mean Sasha would be forced to leave tonight or—
“Can you at least wait until tomorrow?” The defensive edge in her voice was as off-putting as her body language, but I didn’t immediately dismiss her request.
“Why?”
“Because I know as soon as I tell him, I’m gone. Even if the consequences are less, I’m still gone. I know the rules. We all do. But I want one more night here. Just one. So if I promise to do as you say and confess everything to him in the morning, can you promise not to say anything to him or the others until then?”
It was a hard bargain to make, one I wasn’t entirely sure I should agree to. But then again, wasn’t Silas always saying that trauma didn’t play by the rules? Hadn’t Sasha had enough hard breaks in her life? Yes. Undoubtedly so.
“Okay,” I said. “We can wait until the morning.”
There was no thank-you as she steered her svelte frame back to the house, just a lonely resolve that caused my heart to ache with such unexpected sadness I suddenly wished she was wrong about the consequences. Because though I could understand the pain of losing a best friend, that was hardly the only pain Sasha carried inside her tonight.
As I ventured into the dark field to meet Silas, midway between Lavender Cottage and the guys’ Bunkhouse, I worked to shake the unsettledness in my gut over the bargain I’d just made. But the moment I saw Silas up close, my promise to Sasha faded into the background. He looked exhausted. No, he looked weary. Even in the darkness, I could see the half-moon indents under his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Diego didn’t pass his exam.”
“Oh no, not again.” Sympathy filled me for the young man with such a sensitive nature. This was his second time around at the trade school. “I’m so sorry. So what does that mean for him?” But I already knew what it meant. Silas had told me yesterday that this test was the make-or-break determination of Diego’s place at The Bridge. If a resident wasn’t actively enrolled in an internship, job, or education program of some kind, then his eligibility to stay in the program and have a place on campus would be over. The waiting list was too long, and the stipend he received from the government had already paid for two rounds of his trade school and exams.
“I’m not sure yet.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, a gesture that worried me more than his words. “I’ve been on the phone since we got back, trying to figure something out for him, but it doesn’t look good. And he knows it. Worst case, he’ll have two weeks left here. Max.”
“Oh, Silas.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty upset. It didn’t help that Alex aced his exam on his first shot.”
I sighed. “Not the night you’d planned.” At least on that point, we were on the same page.
He blew out a hard breath. “Devon’s still pushing for a group poker game, but I’m not sure he’s gonna get his wish. It’s pretty tense in the house right now. I might just rent a couple movies for us to watch instead. We could all use an evening off. It’s been a long, draining day.”
“Is there anything I can do? We have lots of mini cupcakes we can share. I ordered way more than we needed.”
“Imagine that.” He chuckled softly. “Jerry bought a few snacks, but they’re almost gone. Some cupcakes might be nice.”
“Okay, I’ll send a couple of the girls over to deliver a tray.”
A beat of silence passed between us, and his hand reached out. Midway to me, he withdrew it and shoved it deep into his pocket instead. Though we were in the middle of a darkened field, there were dozens of illuminated windows all around us. It was why I stood four feet away from him even now, barely able to detect the scent of his aftershave. And even still, there were some residents who’d apparently figured out that we’d become more than friendly colleagues.
“I need to apologize to you, Molly. For earlier,” he said. “I was short with you over text. But my responses had nothing to do with you. I was stressed about Diego. I’m sorry I didn’t handle that better.”
Though I now had context for his curt responses, there was a dull burn in the pit of my stomach that hadn’t been fully extinguished by his apology. “I was only trying to help.”
“I realize that. But that’s a difficult matter to deal with over text.”
And he didn’t even know half of it yet.
“The good news is,” he continued, “nothing more can happen with that tonight. Not with all the extra staff on campus, and not after I had Jerry switch out the padlock after you texted me. Nobody’s getting in there tonight. Unfortunately, he confirmed that the security camera aimed at the west garden has been offline for over a month. My guess is that our offenders knew that.” He sighed. “It’s likely why they left the evidence in there. They figured they were a long way off from getting caught.”
Yet the box of condoms wasn’t the only piece of evidence I’d found. I opened my mouth to tell him about the deal I’d made, about how I knew one of the offenders involved and that I’d promised her we could talk to him in the morning together, when Jasmine hollered across the field for me. She wanted help with her eye makeup.
I glanced back at him, my hesitation dying in light of his exhaustion. Silas wasn’t even going to start the official investigation until tomorrow anyway, which meant I could honor Sasha’s request and allow him to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Hadn’t he earned that much?
“We should both probably get back to our people.” I pointed at the cottage behind me and slowly retreated. “I’ll see you tom
orrow at the pancake breakfast.”
“I certainly hope so. Good night, Molly. Sleep well.”
“You too, Silas.”
As I neared the cottage, I glanced over my shoulder to find his gaze waiting for me there, offering me a quiet strength, despite his own weary state.
I gave a little wave, and he waved back.
It was incredible how such a short interaction with Silas could have such a profound effect on my psyche. In just a few moments, he’d managed to restore the balance I’d lost, that tipsy uncertain feeling all but gone now. At least, until I reached the front door and heard the unmistakable sound of a chair knocking to the ground and an impossibly high curse word screeched over the rom-com movie soundtrack.
I threw open the door and pushed inside, stunned at the sight of Wren braced in what could only be described as a Warrior One yoga pose, her frail body blocking Monica from a seething Sasha. A palette of makeup and a broken mirror lay on the floor between the two ex–best friends.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sasha hissed through her teeth.
Monica tilted her chin higher in the air, clearly unafraid. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done. You should know, you’ve been involved in most of them.”
“Okay, that’s enough, girls,” said Glo, rounding the giant popcorn machine and heading straight for the trio. “Clean up this mess and meet me on the porch. No need disrupting everybody’s evening because you three are struggling to keep your manners intact.”
“What’s the point?” Sasha snapped back. “It won’t matter soon anyway.”
Visibly stunned by her outward defiance, Glo’s eyes ticked back to her. “The point, Sasha, is that I’ve given you a direct instruction, so unless you’d like to add another round of chores to your list for disrespect, you’ll do what I’ve asked without further argument. That goes for you two, as well.”
But Sasha didn’t move. Not even a single bat of her eyelash.
“Sasha,” I pressed softly. “Come on, let’s just get this cleaned up so we can go outside and talk.”
