Bad Girl Gone

by Temple Mathews

  Dougie nodded. “Totally amazing breakfast entertainment. First rate,” he said.

  Apparently he found himself immeasurably amusing, because he started goose-honk laughing. I plastered on a good-girl prom queen smile.

  “Thanks so much. You certainly know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

  “Relax. Nobody takes stuff too personal around here. It’s how we cope. You’ll learn,” said Dougie. “Man, is it just me or is it, like, sweltering in here?”

  Dougie was becoming agitated, slapping his bare shoulders forcefully. “Damn, I shouldn’t have hit him—it was just a slap was all, but he cried so hard. He just cried so damn hard,” said Dougie.

  “Let it go, man,” Cole said.

  But Dougie was pissed.

  “Don’t you think I would have by now if I could?”

  I looked at Cole, who indicated it was time to leave, which was good because Dougie was stripping down to his plaid boxers to endure the “heat.” This guy was clearly not right in the head.

  Out in the hallway, I stopped Cole and spoke softly.

  “What was up with him?”

  “His little brother was bugging him, you know how that goes, and he hauled off and smacked him, and the kid cried bloody murder.”

  “So he can make it up to him, get another chance to be good to him, right?”

  “Anything’s possible,” said Cole. His look told me to drop the subject and I did.

  We moved on to room two, where we dumped off laundry for a petite young blonde, Beth, who was reading a book, the edges of which were charred, as though she’d rescued it from a fireplace. A dozen or so candles lit the room, which smelled of lavender. Beth looked up at me.

  “Hey, newbie.”

  “Hi.”

  “Welcome to Middle House.”

  “Thanks.”

  I meant it. It felt good to have another human be civil to me. Beth’s roommate was Marsha, closer to my age, maybe fourteen. She had curly hair, and by the looks of her acne and body, she was blasting her way through puberty. She was also a reader and gave me a perfunctory sneer, too cool to speak to me, apparently. “Nice to meet you, too,” I said through a sarcastic smile. Marsha clenched her teeth and shot a quick glare at me.

  A thick book fell off the shelf and thumped loudly onto the floor. I flinched as half the candles went out. I looked down and saw that the book was entitled History of the Occult. And then the candles were suddenly burning again. The falling book and weird flames didn’t faze Marsha or Beth in the least. I shuddered for about the hundredth time since I’d woken up.

  Cole and I moved on, and he introduced me to Cameron, gangly and dark-skinned, who had sweet, searching eyes. He wore big, black round glasses and snapped his fingers to a silent beat as he stared at a couple of goldfish he had in a big glass tank. The fish seemed to be swimming against some kind of current, but I couldn’t see a pump anywhere. Another quirk of Middle House, no doubt. I sent a quiet prayer to the heavens: please don’t let me be losing my mind! I didn’t want to end up like one of these bizarre residents.

  “Nice fish.” What a conversationalist I was.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice sounding oddly aquatic, as though he were gargling water or something. “One is a comet, the other a fantail. Carassius auratus. They’re members of the carp family.”

  Cameron smiled at me. Apparently he really loved those fish. I smiled back, and for a moment we connected as he peered into my eyes.

  “Nice meeting you,” he said. “Happy hunting.”

  My heart jerked in my chest a little.

  “What do you mean? Hunting what?”

  “You’ll find out,” he said.

  Then he closed his eyes, leaned closer to the fish tank, and grooved once again to the beatbox in his brain. More mystery. Great. Just what I needed.

  * * *

  Cole and I moved back out into the hall.

  “This place is tremendously weird—you do know that, don’t you?” I said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I sighed. Just get through this, Echo, somehow get through this.

  “It’s nice of you to introduce me, but it’s kind of pointless, because I’m not staying here, you know?”

  He gave me another one of his thoughtful looks.

  “Whatever you say.”

  * * *

  He didn’t get it. I was already gone. For the next several minutes we distributed laundry to various rooms, running into one circus sideshow after another. Then we headed to our final destination, my room, way at the end of the hall. I caught a glimpse of the breakfast cat dashing into it. When we entered, there was a girl, about twelve, sitting on the bed next to mine. She was beautiful, with slightly slanted eyes, which made me think maybe one of her parents was Asian. Her face was round as the moon and her hair was super long and full of highlights. She was painting her toenails.

  “Lucy, this is Echo,” said Cole.

  “I saw you in the dining room,” she said.

  “Really? I don’t think I saw you.”

  “I was there. I just wasn’t one of the ones making fun of you.”

  “Oh. Well, thanks,” I said.

  I tried out a smile on her. She yawned and stretched, arching her back, and gave me a polite smile back. Words of kindness and a smile? I could hardly believe it. There was no sign of the cat, which I figured was under the bed or had scurried out.

  “Is the cat yours?” I asked.

  Ignoring my question, Lucy got up and started making her bed, moving quickly and efficiently. I started to do the same, and Cole helped me. This felt oddly domestic, and I immediately thought of Andy. I doubted he’d be cool with some guy helping me make my bed.

  “I got it, thanks.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “I said I got it.”

  Cole backed off, stung. His sudden sadness stunned me. Before I could say anything else, he headed out into the hallway.

  “I’ll catch you later.”

  Lucy got up and opened a drawer and pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to me.

  “Here. In case you want to get cleaned up.”

  “What’s this?”

  Lucy flopped down on her bed and wrapped her arms around her pillow.

  “It belonged to Tawny. It’s yours now.”

  “Tawny? Who’s that? Where did she go?”

  “She was my old roommate. She moved on.”

  I looked in the bag. Inside were shampoo, conditioner, a brush, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.

  “Moved on where? You mean like to some foster home or something?”

  But Lucy had already closed her eyes and didn’t say another word.

  “Lucy?”

  She was dead asleep. I felt beat-up and scummy. I looked at the shampoo. Maybe a shower was just what I needed.

  SHOWER

  I grabbed a towel and wandered the cold hallways until I found the girls’ showers. It was a creepy green-tile room with thick rusty pipes running overhead. Thankfully, I was alone. I peeled off my clothes quickly and turned on the water. The old pipes shuddered and rattled in a crush of noise and steam. The water was cold, but I wasn’t about to stand around buck naked waiting for it to heat up, so I took the plunge. In seconds my teeth were chattering. I turned up the hot water. The pipes groaned in protest, but finally the spray transformed from freezing to merely chilly to warm to lukewarm and finally, nice and hot.

  I soaped up and took care of business as fast as I could. The warm water soaked into my sore bones, but my hair was a disaster. I worked the shampoo Lucy’d given me into my scalp and was feeling almost normal when the water turned scalding hot.

  “Ahhhhh!”

  My skin was on fire and I had soap in my eyes.

  “Dammit!” I yelled.

  I reached for my towel but it was gone, along with my clothes. And then I heard it. Laughter. I stood with my eyes closed, stinging, covered in soap. I felt something on my toes. With the heels of my palms I wiped the
soap from my eyes and looked down. I wanted to jump out of my body because slimy black leeches were wriggling up out of the drain and latching onto my feet. My body convulsed as an ungodly scream burst out of my throat.

  I ran from the shower, certain I was going to slip on the slick floor and fall on my ass. But somehow I managed to remain upright, and when I looked down at my feet, the leeches were gone. I’d imagined the whole thing.

  I looked over and saw a half-dozen girls laughing as they repeatedly flushed the toilets. Hence the scalding water. I stood there naked, too angry and way too proud to even bother covering myself up.

  “Give me back my goddamn clothes!” I roared.

  A couple of them flinched. A heavyset girl in pigtails—a truly regrettable choice for her—clomped forward and pointed an accusing finger at me. She was the bulky girl who’d grunted in my room before. I noticed her fingers were short and thick, her nails chewed close. The jumper she was wearing was too tight, and her breath was like a weapon. Ugh!

  “‘I don’t belong here!’” she said, mocking my breakfast outburst.

  “What do you want?” I said

  “You think you’re better than us? Well, let me clarify something for you, newbie. In Middle House, you’re nothing. Just like the rest of us. And for your information, you ain’t going nowhere.”

  “‘I don’t belong here!’” said another.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. I was trying to sound calm, but my voice was shaky. I spotted my clothes and towel stuffed in a wastebasket and rushed over to get them. My speed surprised me, because I beat two other girls who tried to intercept me. One of them made a grab for my towel and I pushed her hard against the wall.

  “Ow!” she yelped.

  Pigtails pointed her finger at me again and her eyes narrowed into angry slits and she got right in my face.

  “You know what you are? Stupid. You’re so stupid you don’t even know you’re stupid. If you know what’s good for you, you better learn to fit in.”

  “And how do I do that? By torturing people, like you? I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t have to ‘fit in,’ because I’m not staying here!”

  Pigtails pulled her fist back like she was going to hit me. She made a punching motion but stopped just short of clobbering me. I jerked my head back anyway, so fast I fell backwards. Pigtails cut loose with a horselaugh. I’d had it.

  “Please just leave me alone. I won’t be here long enough to bother you,” I said.

  Pigtails shook her head and looked at the other girls.

  “What’d I tell you? She’s an airhead. She’s still in denial.”

  One of the girls looked like she was going to make a move on me, so I scrabbled up and clenched my fingers into fists. Pigtails sneered at me.

  “Oh, look at you, the badass bitch!”

  She laughed, her belly jiggling. The other girls laughed along, then when Pigtails waddled out, they left, too, casting spiteful glances over their shoulders. I quickly rinsed off and toweled dry, and in a minute flat I was dressed and hurrying back to my room. Not exactly a spa day.

  The remainder of the morning passed without incident. At lunchtime—an orgy of food not dissimilar to breakfast—I again sat with Cole and Dougie. Dougie politely poured me water from a pitcher. It was so cold it hurt my teeth. Lunch fare was cheeseburgers, curly fries, shakes, six kinds of pizza, root beer floats, hot dogs, fried chicken, Tater Tots, and caramel bars. There wasn’t a salad or vegetable in sight.

  I felt guilty but I told myself I had no other choice and dug in, piling my plate with two bacon cheeseburgers, an apple fritter, and a handful of fries. I opted for a strawberry shake to drink—god, my mom would ground me if she saw me eating like this. Nonetheless, I proceeded to eat like the world was coming to an end, munching and slurping and burping like every other freak in the dining hall. Across the room, Pigtails was eyeing me. I stared hard at her and she flipped me the double bird.

  “I see you’ve met Darby,” Cole said.

  “Yeah, we bonded in the showers.”

  “I hope you’ll eventually become friends with her. She can be a powerful ally,” he said.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Believe me, I don’t need friends like that. I think she’s the pushiest bitch I’ve ever met. After the shit she pulled, I could have killed her.”

  Cole touched my hand. Tingles. Again, it was a wow thing.

  “You shouldn’t be so pissed at the world.”

  “I’m not pissed at the world!” I knew when I said it it sounded exactly like I was pissed at the whole world. I felt like an idiot.

  “You might be surprised what you need and don’t need in Middle House,” said Cole.

  I calmed down and ate. Just like at breakfast, my appetite was endless. I kept at it until some kids on the lunch detail started clearing the tables. Weirdly, I didn’t feel sated. I knew it was because adrenaline had been pumping through my body like gangbusters, but still, all this gorging felt bizarre. I spotted Miss Torvous out in the hallway. I got up and rushed out to her. When she saw me coming, she hastened her pace. She couldn’t wait to get away from me. I wondered why she disliked me so much. I raced out in front of her and blocked her path.

  “Excuse me, um … I really need to talk to you. I know this is some kind of orphanage, and it seems very nice,” I lied, “but I really do not belong here.”

  “Are you finished?” she said.

  “No. I know for a fact that my parents are alive. I can prove it. Just let me go see them and we can clear this all up.”

  Cole had come out into the hallway and she signaled to him. He came right over.

  “Cole, Miss Stone obviously needs a guide. Will you please handle that? Make certain she’s processed, that she fulfills her learning.”

  “Yes, Miss Torvous.”

  “Good. I don’t want any mistakes. Make certain it goes smoothly.”

  Miss Torvous turned on her heels and departed quickly.

  “Processed?” What the hell did she mean by that?

  “Echo, listen…”

  “Oh, for god’s sake, leave me alone!”

  I’d freakin’ had it. I ran down the hallway looking for an exit. I was so gone! I had to get out of there before my head exploded. I searched frantically for an exit but all I found were more doors leading to more hallways, like this place was some kind of insane maze. I raced upstairs to the third floor and yanked open a set of heavy drapes. Sunlight blasted me in the face. I could see trees and a lake. Which, in the Pacific Northwest, meant I could be just about anywhere. The window was painted shut. Going farther up didn’t seem like a great strategy. So I backtracked, then found a stairwell and tore down it past the first floor into another part of the basement, praying that I could find some kind of subterranean getaway. I heard a voice behind me.

  “Echo! Wait! Please stop running away from me.”

  Screw him. I kept running and reached a door, yanked it open, and slammed it behind me, locking it. I was in a long corridor, with a light flickering on and off at the end. I sprinted down the corridor so fast I nearly ran into the window, which was open. I could smell the fresh air, could almost taste my freedom. There was only one problem. The window had bars on it. Cole was at the door, knocking.

  “Echo, open up. Please? You don’t have to do this.”

  To hell with him. I was going to do whatever I had to do to get out of this godforsaken prison. The bars were wrought iron and spaced about four inches apart. For a second, I had this vision that I could somehow squeeze through them, even though I knew my head would never fit. I was seriously about to try this madness when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around. It was Cole. He’d either had a key or was a lock picker.

  “How the hell did you get in here?”

  He ignored my question and opted instead to slowly shake his head as if I were a little kid asking a stupid question.

  “This isn’t necessary.”

  “C
ole, I have to get out of here. I have to.”

  “You’re going to.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll show you. Tonight.”

  I could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it. I almost hugged him.

  “Thank you.”

  He grinned, kind of sheepishly. I had no time for this petty flirting.

  I thought of Andy. I couldn’t wait to see him. And Mom and Dad. They must be worried sick. Tonight. Finally. Tonight was the night.

  ESCAPE

  I scarfed my way through dinner, another absurdly unhealthy, salty, fried, fat-laced but delicious meal. I was getting more than my share of looks, but no one was giving me the finger and nothing was freezing or catching fire, and the pastries had apparently decided to show mercy and not attack. Zipperhead actually smiled at me. In his own way, he was kind of cute and I wondered what had happened to the poor guy. My guess was he’d gotten hurt in a car accident. By the scars on his head, it looked like he’d gone through the front windshield. He was lucky to be alive.

  I got back to eating. Every time I glanced up from my food, I saw someone else looking at me. I could feel the weight of their eyes on me and even though everything was tasty, I forced myself to quit eating and left.

  After dinner, I went to brush my teeth—I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by showing up with food stuck between my incisors—and then I withdrew to my room where I sat on my bed talking with Lucy. She had an annoying habit of licking her fingers every time she turned a page of the magazine she was reading. I noticed that she licked her lips a lot, too, and once or twice her knuckles as well. Ick. But I warmed up to her when she talked about her parents.

  “My mom’s an esthetician, and my dad drives a truck. It’s not that easy, you know, maneuvering those big rigs around corners and stuff.”

  What I liked about her was that even though she was an orphan, she talked about her parents in the present tense. I imagined it made her feel somehow closer to them. I wondered how they’d died, but it felt rude to just come out and ask. She’d tell me when she felt like sharing, and I was okay with that.

  Later, I changed back into my clean jeans and T-shirt. Lucy loaned me a hoodie and Cole came to get me. We were ready to go.