by Betsy Flak
Your heart pounds. “Shall we?”
“Yes, we shall.” With a fang-filled smile, Paige gestures toward her PJs, then to your own ripped and dirt-covered ensemble. “Let’s start with some new clothes.”
“Sounds good.” Arm in arm, you and Paige walk off into the darkness, ready to start your brand new life.
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Your eyelids scrape against your eyes. Although everything is blurry, you recognize the familiar nightstand, the window, the dresser. You’re in your own room, in your own bed.
The memory of last night rears its ugly head. You squeeze your eyes shut, but the vision of blood-covered Magda sprawled over that stretcher is tattooed across your brain. You inhale, then exhale, over and over again. When your breaths stop their shaking, you crack your bleary eyes open. This time, your fingers rush to your phone resting on the wooden nightstand.
There’s not one message about Magda, just a couple from Paige asking if you’re all right. You dismiss them.
You shower, turning the heat so high that it sears your skin. Scolding yourself for abandoning Magda back in that alley, you lean into the pain. When you get out of the shower, you dress in your oldest, grungiest T-shirt and shorts. You don’t style your hair nor do you tend to your bloodshot eyes. Today, you’ll be the ugliest person in NFHS. It’s a lighter punishment than you deserve.
You stumble down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, both your parents wait for you.
Your mom steps up to bat first. “Honey, your father and I discussed it and we both think you should skip school for the day.”
You shake your head. If you skip school, you’ll never find out what happened to Magda.
Your dad’s dark eyes crinkle with concern. “Are you sure?”
You gulp, not trusting your voice. Your chin dips into a tight nod.
Beep-beep! Beep!
Your mom interlaces her fingers with your dad’s. Her forehead tilts toward the front door. “We thought you might feel this way, so we called Paige. We thought with your bike…unavailable, she might be able to give you a ride to school today.”
Beep! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
“Oh, um, I better go then.” You grab your limp backpack off the coat rack, then hug both your parents goodbye. “See you later.”
Your mom’s smile wavers. “Be careful.”
“Be safe,” your dad chimes in.
“I will. Bye.”
You close the front door behind you, then stop short. You expected Mrs. Torres’s station wagon. Instead, Paige and Julia sit in an ancient black Corvette with the top down. You hop into the red leather back seat before the impatient Paige can initiate a third round of honking.
Paige tightens the handkerchief protecting her hair from the wind. Her hazel eyes sparkle, far too joyous for the situation. “You ready?” Not waiting for your answer, Paige slams down the gas pedal. The tires peel out as she whips around the corner.
You suck in a breath. Your fingertips dig into the leather cushion beneath your thighs. Paige is not a careful driver. “W-where’d you get the car, Paige?”
“From a friend.” Paige flashes a grin. Balancing the wheel between her knees, she unwraps a lollipop.
“You’re in a good mood,” you grumble. You shove your spine into the padded seat, bracing yourself against the twists and turns of Paige’s erratic driving.
“And why wouldn’t I be? It’s a gorgeous day, I’m driving a gorgeous car, and I’ve got a gorgeous lollipop.” Paige swivels around to show off said lollipop. Her gaze finds yours instead of the road.
The car veers to the side. Julia catches the wheel before it crosses into opposing traffic.
“Oops.” Only after a mischievous smile does Paige return to driving.
You scowl at her. “How can you be so happy after last night?”
“After last night?” Paige tilts her head. Her brows furrow in confusion.
Julia’s fleshy shoulder knocks against Paige’s. “Don’t play dumb, Paige. If I know, you know.” Julia’s brown eyes find yours in the rear view mirror. “You mean after that new girl got hurt last night, right?”
“Hurt? Magda’s only hurt?” Your heart lifts a smidge.
Julia nods. “Yup. My dad says she’s still in the hospital. Apparently, she lost a lot of blood.”
Your nails scrape against the red leather of your seat. “Paige, can we go? To the hospital? Now?” Nothing is more important than apologizing to Magda.
Through the rear view mirror, Paige’s lined, mascaraed eyes widen with sorrow. “I’m sorry, hun, but no. Last I heard no visitors other than family until tomorrow at the earliest. But I promise if you still wanna go tomorrow and they’re letting friends in, I’ll take you myself, okay?”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you slump down in your seat. “Okay.”
Paige and Julia exchange a look of concern in the front. You ignore it.
Shifting to sit sideways in the front passenger seat, Julia changes the subject, “So, Paige, you never returned my call last night. Doin’ anythin’ fun?” Julia winks at you.
You struggle to muster even a weak smile.
“I don’t kiss and tell, silly.” Paige bops Julia’s button nose with her lollipop.
Confusion wrinkles your forehead. Paige always kisses and tells.
Not that Julia notices the discrepancy. “What about earlier, then? Did I miss anythin’ back at Corner Coffee?”
“Back at Corner Coffee?” Your frown deepens. They already know about last night, so what is Julia talking about?
“Yeah, last night. When you and Paige were hangin’ out in Corner Coffee after my dad kicked her out. Y’ know, before all the drama with Magda.”
In the rear view mirror, Paige’s gaze locks with yours. She shakes her head.
Curiosity supplants your anxiety. What was Paige doing last night? Guess I’ll cover for her now and ask later. “Yeah, no. I mean, nothing of interest happened. Just the usual, you know.”
“Gotcha.”
Paige pulls into the student parking lot with the passenger-side wheels bouncing over the curb. The moment she parks, her phone buzzes. She wriggles it out of her pocket. As Paige reads the screen, her glossy lips press into a thin line. “Hey, guys, I’m sorry, but I gotta take this.” She glances at you. “Cover for me in Chem?”
“Um, sure.”
With her phone pressed to her ear, Paige peels away. She weaves through the parked cars, heading in the opposite direction from NFHS. Her steps are rapid, hurried. Whatever this call is about, Paige wants to be as far away as possible.
Something’s off with her. You’d like to know what it is, if only to distract yourself from your own problems.
If you follow Paige, intending to listen to her phone call, click here.
If you mind your own business and follow Julia into NFHS, click here.
It hasn’t been that long, so you take a chance and turn left. In a haze, you race back to Corner Coffee, dodging the couples on their romantic strolls and the hurried loners alike. All hurl disgruntled, confused, or concerned looks at you. A few yell at you to slow down.
You don’t register any of it. All you know is that you have to escape, that you have to make it back to the safe haven of Corner Coffee. When at last you arrive in front of the familiar glass door, you tug on the handle.
The door doesn’t budge.
Horror surges within you like a tsunami. You shake the door against its frame, then peek over your shoulder, back toward the alleyway. The Fruitvale citizens walking by give you weird looks. You start banging on the glass.
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” Sammy emerges from the back room, dragging his Corner Coffee T-shirt over his six-pack. His straight brows collapse into a scowl. When he sees you at the door, it deepens, but he unlocks the door and lets you in with a grumble. “You know I have to make things up to Bryce right now.”
Your hand wraps around his muscled forearm. “I know, but listen. There’s�
�” Like a slap to the face, it hits you. You left Davey alone in an alley with some creep attacking him! He told you to do so, but you shouldn’t have listened! Two against one is better than one against one.
But three against one is even better. You tug Sammy toward the door. “C’mon, c’mon, we gotta go help Davey!”
Sammy’s free hand squeezes your clenched shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Some creep attacked Davey! C’mon, we gotta go!” You fight against Sammy’s hold, but it’s no use. He pushes you down into a chair. Your knees buckle beneath the pressure.
Leaving his hand planted on your shoulder—pinning you into place—Sammy whips out his cell phone. He taps three numbers on the screen: 9-1-1. “Yeah, hi, I need to report a possible assault in progress… Yes, Fruitvale. Downtown… Do you know where exactly?”
Visions of Davey dying in that alley alone play in your mind, looping around and around and around.
Sammy snaps his fingers in front of your unseeing eyes. “Where did it happen?”
You startle. “Oh, um, out in one of the alleys off State Ave. The one by the library.”
Sammy repeats your directions into the phone, then strides to one of the windows by the door. Bryce squats in front of you. When did he get here?
“Are you okay?” Bryce’s voice is soft, more gentle than you thought possible.
“Yeah, but I need to go. I need to get to Davey.” You push yourself off the chair. Your legs wobble.
Bryce presses you back down. “No. The police are on their way. Until we know what’s going on—”
“But that could be too late!” The heels of your hands swipe at your teary eyes.
Tucking his phone into his pocket, Sammy joins you and Bryce. He ducks down to capture your gaze. “They said they had a squad in the vicinity and that it wouldn’t take them long to get here. Do you wanna walk down together?”
Bryce glowers at Sammy, but you ignore his disapproval and nod. With Bryce on one side and Sammy on the other, you retrace your flee. Bryce and Sammy force you to take measured steps. My Grandma walks faster than this.
A siren screams into the night.
Your breath catches in your throat. An ambulance pulls up to the alley behind the library, still more than half a block away from you. Uniformed police rope off the sidewalk on either side. As you approach the alleyway, you search for a gap, for a way to sneak past that barrier, for a way to get to Davey.
Sammy’s heavy hand lands on your shoulder. You glance askance. Sammy shakes his head at you.
At last you reach the alley, only one of the crowd gathered around the spectacle. Your fingers wind around the yellow police tape. You stare into the pitch-black alley with only flickering lights at the entrance. After a thousand—a million—anxious breaths, a stretcher exits the alleyway. Black Converses with Dracula laces peek over the end of the stretcher. Davey.
Your stomach plummets past your shoes. A medic presses both hands over Davey’s neck. Blood stains Davey’s clothes. Too much blood.
Your legs give out. You collapse onto the cement.
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Not daring to slow down even a hair, you swing right. Julia’s house isn’t too far away. Plus, Sammy and Bryce probably locked up Corner Coffee the second you were out that door. If they are still there, they’re likely in the back room “assessing inventory” anyway. No, heading to Julia’s house is a much better option.
Your feet pound against the cement as you dash down State Ave. You dodge the few people in your path, ignoring their curious glances.
A little over half a block away, your heels dig into the sidewalk. You skid to a halt.
Paige rushes toward you with her palms raised. “Stop, stop! What is it? What’s wrong?”
You exhale a sigh of relief. The sight of Paige—sweet, normal Paige—brings it all home. What are you doing? Running away from some random person in an alleyway? What are you, a toddler afraid of the dark? No, you are not. An idiot maybe, but not a scared child. “Nothing, Paige, I…I guess I just thought I saw something.” You glance down at her. A smile plays over your lips. “I am glad to see you though.”
“Mmhmm.” Paige’s finger slips a strand of your hair back in place, then she laces her arm through yours. “Why don’t we go get our bikes?”
You smother the spike of fear. You were just being stupid earlier. “Yeah, of course.”
Paige leads you back toward the alley. When you reach it, the lamps closest to the entrance still flicker. Inky blackness shrouds the middle.
Your heart speeds. Your feet refuse to move forward.
Paige peeks back at you. Her fingers trail down your bare forearm and intertwine with yours. They tug you forward, into the alleyway.
With a tight hold on Paige, you follow her to the bike rack. A couple of feet away from it, she stops. You stumble to avoid running into her.
Paige turns around to face you. She’s so close that you can smell the coffee on her breath. Her fingertips skim down your cheek.
You can’t breathe.
“I’m just sorry it had to be you.”
Confusion furrows your brows. “Paige?”
With a sad smile, she backs away from you.
A body slams into your side. You crash onto the rocky asphalt. Talons slash your abdomen, tracing your ribs. Daggers of pain stab through your torso, then radiate through your body. Every breath is agony. Tears spring to your eyes.
Rough hands flip you onto your back. Your skull bounces off the unyielding ground. Stars in the night sky swirl above the brick walls looming over you.
A man with greasy locks blocks them out. His pitch-black eyes swallow the lamp light. Canines almost an inch long poke through his lips. His fangs shine so white it hurts your eyes.
He leers at you, then darts to your neck. The movement is nothing but a blur. Twin knives puncture your throat.
Your life drains away.
Oops, I forgot to scream.
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“Oh, um, actually, it’s my dinner break.” You accept Davey’s cup, then hand it to Sammy. While you untie your apron, your heart thunders in your ears. What if Magda missed your hint? Or maybe she’s not interested in you at all? Your fingers riffling through your hair, you peek at the door.
Magda leans against the doorframe. Her midnight curls reflect the fire of the setting sun. Her fingers scroll through her phone. Dawdling, she’s definitely dawdling. Gulping around the lump in your throat, you grab your backpack from the back room, just in case.
Your breath stalls in your chest as you approach her. You gather every last speck of courage, then raise your eyes to Magda’s chestnut ones. “You want company for dinner?” Before she can say “no,” you shove your hands into your pockets and rush through an explanation, “I mean, it’s my break and I was going to read, but—”
A light hand on your forearm arrests your tangled tongue.
Magda grins. “I’d love some company.”
Your stomach somersaults, but you recover enough to push the door open with one arm. You gesture for Magda to pass through first and use the pause to collect your thoughts. Magda is new in town. You can use that.
“So, have you explored our tiny downtown yet?” Outside of Corner Coffee, you wave your arms toward the nestled shops, cafés, and restaurants, most with brick or painted brick exteriors.
Magda shakes her head. “Nope, not really.”
“Well, I’ve lived here all my life, so I can show you anything you want.” You extend an elbow toward Magda. Your guts clench at your audacity.
Magda laces her slender hand through the crook of your arm.
Your cheeks throb from grinning, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “So…what are you in the mood for?”
Magda scans either side of busy State Ave. “Maybe…a sandwich?” Her free fingers tug at a wild curl. “I’m sorry, that’s boring, I should—”
“No! A sandwich is a great idea. We actually have t
he perfect little shop up ahead.” You point at a beige storefront half a block away. A wooden sub almost as long as you are tall hangs above it. “The outside’s corny I know, but trust me, the Vale ’Wich Café is the way to go.”
Magda squeezes your arm. “I’m sure it’ll be great. Besides, I like corny.”
“Me too.”
You and Magda walk beneath the giant sandwich and reach the glass door marked “Vale ’Wich Café.” This time, Magda holds it open for you. After a thorough perusal of the plastic-coated menu, you and Magda order your sandwiches, then settle into a table for two by the window.
Magda places her elbows on the gleaming tabletop. Her pointy chin drops into her palms. “So, tell me everything I need to know about North Fruitvale.”
“Well, first, you need to know about Fruitvale as a whole. Then we can get into all the specifics of North Fruitvale.”
“See, I’m already learning!” Her mouth cocks into a wry smile.
You return it. Starting with your favorite haunts, you explain everything there is to know about Fruitvale to Magda. She asks all the right questions, prompting you for more and more details. By the time you finish dinner and meander back to Corner Coffee together, Magda knows almost as much about Fruitvale as you do.
You’re finishing your lecture on the complicated politics of NFHS when the two of you stroll through the bell-tinkling doorway of Corner Coffee.
Sammy looks up from the beat-up textbook spread over the polished counter. “Hey there.” His dark gaze flits to Magda. “You’re Magda, right?”
“Yup.”
“Davey told me to tell you that he went home but that you have the car for the night. In case you wanna stay late.” Sammy winks at you and Magda.
Your insides plummet past your feet. Why does Sammy have to go and make things all obvious?
“Oh, okay. Um…yeah, okay, thanks.” Magda’s front teeth worry her lower lip. Her eyes flick to yours.
Your brain sputters like an ancient, needs-to-be-replaced engine.
Sammy hops off his stool and to your rescue. “Now that you’re back, I think Bryce and I are gonna take our dinner break.” His hand lands on your shoulder and squeezes. His thin lips twitch toward a smirk. “Think you can handle the shop?”
