SKYLAR
“Dad, I brought food,” I yelled through the quiet house as I hauled Italian take-out to the kitchen. The aroma of garlic and red sauce made my stomach growl, and I felt sorry my dad was stuck with the gluten-free, whole-grain, vegan whatever pasta he had to eat. “Sorry I’m late. Zoe sucked me into a marathon trip to the mall and then we found this fabric store—”
I froze. Aunt Josephine was in our kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a shopping list in her hand. The first item likely a reminder to make my life miserable.
I dropped my bags on the counter. “What are you doing here?” My tone sharpened to an edge that could slice through our invisible wall of hate. “Where’s Dad?”
She turned her beady, judgmental eyes on me and glanced at my shoes. “You spent three hours shopping in those?”
I compared my three-inch, peep-toe boots to her drab, black flats. “You’re seriously giving me fashion advice?” I cringed at my own words. My dad would have a fit if he heard me being so disrespectful.
Aunt Josephine barely flinched, as if she expected my snotty reply, and continued taking inventory. “Your father is resting at my house. The cleaning crew was here, and I didn’t want a cover story on tomorrow’s Enquirer.”
Like she’d know anything about that. I was the one who had spent seventeen years dodging the media, not her. “Well, they’re gone now, so why don’t you go on home? I can take care of Daddy the rest of the night.”
She turned and straightened in her stiff black blazer. She was a lawyer at a prestigious law firm in Asheville. A major partner, my dad had said, and she looked every bit the part. Hair too tight, posture too straight, heart too cold.
She folded her arms as if I were on the witness stand. “Skylar, this chemo is vicious. It’s time you start adjusting your expectations.”
“Because you’re now the cancer expert? You’ve only been around for two months. I’m the one who nursed him through his last round of treatment.” Me and the guys from the band. I still couldn’t figure out why Daddy hadn’t just us let stay in Germany where we belonged.
She pushed back an invisible lock of hair. “Things are different this time. It’s far more advanced. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to start preparing yourself for the possibility that he might not—”
“Just bring him home.” I fought back the tears, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And for once, keep your opinions to yourself.”
I spun around and ran to my room. Daddy would be fine. I knew it. He knew it. We had faith. We prayed.
God would spare my father. He had to.
CODY
Chugger’s house was jammed with kids from school. His parents traveled a lot and let him do whatever, as long as no one ended up in jail.
The bump of music rattled my chest the minute I stepped from my truck. Blake parked a few spots over. I was losing his trust, which meant my loyalty would soon have to be proven. Madison was like the Mafia. You were in or you were targeted. There was no middle ground.
Groups huddled in the front yard, most hanging out on the back of truck beds. Since Chugger lived on ten acres of land outside the city limits, the scene mirrored a tailgate party, complete with two kegs and a portable shelter.
Blake walked beside me as we headed to a mob of football players and their groupies. “Time to mingle.” He loved these parties. The music, the energy, the unending attention. Two girls pushed toward him, offered hugs that implied they heard he was now single. They were both juniors and wore hip hugging jeans and halter-tops low enough to be lingerie. I recognized the blond from the lake. She’d been sitting on Chugger’s lap last time I saw her.
Blake slipped an arm around each of their waists and pulled them close. He took turns nudging their necks with his nose while they giggled. Someone tossed him a beer, which he caught to the disappointment of the brunette who lost his embrace.
“Cody?”
I knew it wasn’t really a question. “Sure.”
A cold can slid into my hand, and I took my obligatory first swig. It tasted bitter and cheap like most of the alcohol brought to these parties. Someone laughed at a punch line I didn’t hear, and I faked a response.
After two more beers for Blake while we talked about sports, we made our way into the house. I tossed my nearly full can in the trash by the door and followed Blake to the living room. Chugger sat fixated on the TV, engaged in his latest video game saga. The crowd was much lighter inside; only a few couples scattered throughout watching the sixty-inch screen.
Everyone knew the house rules. Alcohol stayed outside. Food stayed in kitchen. Back bedrooms were off limits, unless you were on the wrestling team, of course.
“Hey, you made it! Dang Blake, how’d you get Cody to crawl out of his hole?” Chugger asked, turning from his game long enough to notice.
Blake wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pushed my head forward and knuckle-rubbed my scalp. “Had to sweet talk his Mommy.” His voice was ripe with sarcasm.
I detangled myself from Blake’s arm and pushed him back.
Through the large windows, I saw various couples dancing, some grinding as if the back bedrooms had been moved to the patio. Jill Spencer was front and center, her hands moving down the length of her body when she caught me looking. She hooked her index finger back and forth and pointed a come-and-get-me smile right at me. I turned away.
“Looks like we found your way to relax.” Blake’s eyes were riveted even though he’d never been one for random hookups. Well, until this year anyway.
“Not interested.”
A loud whoop from the surrounding chairs started a round of smack talk and challenges. Blake took a seat next to Chugger and stole a drink from his red Dixie cup that I doubted was alcohol-free. The two wrestled for the controller while I found an empty spot against the wall. I’d been to this house dozens of times, but tonight even the air made my skin crawl.
I spotted my sixth period nemesis moving through the crowd like a medieval messenger. He wore fancy jeans and a watch that cost more than my car and had spent most of the summer kissing up to Blake. Joey was too weak for the wrestling team, which is why he’d always be just shy of the prize.
He crouched down, whispered something in Blake’s ear that made him bolt out of his chair. “Where? She bring someone?”
The fury in his voice had Joey’s face twisting. “I-I don’t know. I saw her and came to tell you.”
Blake pushed Joey forward until they disappeared from the room. I banged my head against the wall, my heart thumping with an adrenaline I couldn’t hide.
“Cody, come play.” Chugger lifted a controller without taking his eyes off the screen. I forced my legs to move toward the couch, even while my heart demanded to know if my rock star princess had come.
I sat and haphazardly moved the levers.
“I remember the first time you walked into the gym last year,” Chugger said, eerily absent of his usual humor. “All wide-eyed and eager. Nervous. I couldn’t believe it was Fatty James.”
The name made my chest burn while my knuckles around the controller faded to white. No one had uttered that name in years. Not since I pinned Blake in tryouts.
I stood slowly. I should have known Blake would use Chugger to do his dirty work. “Your point?”
Chugger lifted the controller, tapped wildly until a tank exploded. “I just find it amazing how far you’ve come. Captain, girls like Jill begging to get into your pants, planning senior skip day, jumping Henry. It’s been quite a year, and the season hasn’t even started. Would hate to see all that hard work wasted.”
His threat rang loud and clear: stay away from Skylar or we’ll nail you for all our crimes. Blake could get the whole school to confess I was a monster, and Henry wouldn’t dare speak up and tell the truth now that he was at the head table.
Gunfire snapped from the TV while Chugger’s fingers moved seamlessly over the controls. An enemy in black fell dead. He’d managed to
kill us both simultaneously.
“So, we’re on the same page here?” His eyes locked on the soldiers blasting their targets.
“Your message is crystal clear.”
Ignoring the simmering fury in my stare, Chugger turned his head and offered an innocent smile. “Perfect. Now, get a drink and relax.”
The blinds vibrated when I slammed the back door. Past the dancing drunks, a large trampoline and a swimming pool was a path to the line of parked cars. I pushed through the groups clustered around a keg, including Jill who was too drunk to even speak coherently.
Madison’s rules were simple. I knew them. Hell, I’d memorized them. I fisted the keys in my pocket. Blake wanted me here to deliver a message. I got it. Now I was leaving.
But since my luck was up there with lottery losers and stranded drivers, the “she” who had Blake in a fury stood between my escape and me. I tried to slip by, but Lindsay’s soft hello caught me mid-stride.
“Hey, Cody.” She wiped her face, her hands trembling. On closer inspection, her entire body trembled, and her eyes were red.
Crap. I was so screwed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She wore a pair of tight jeans, boots that went up past her knees and a long sleeved green sweater that she pulled at endlessly.
She wasn’t fine. Not even close. Even her voice was raspy. “Lindsay, you’re shaking.”
“I just needed some air. You know me.” She waved it off and swayed. “An emotional breakdown waiting to happen.”
Her self-deprecating laugh didn’t make me feel any better. I reached out, feeling the need to steady her, but she flinched when my hand made contact. Okay. She didn’t want to be touched. Fine by me.
Self-preservation said to walk away, but a voice inside my head screamed to do something. It was Matt demanding I be more than some puppet on a string. I followed her line of sight and moved in front of it, forcing eye contact. “Did someone hurt you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” There was a hitch in her breath and those hands would not stop tugging and tugging at her sleeves.
“Well, isn’t this sweet.”
The slur cut across the yard before I could answer.
Fear flashed in Lindsay’s eyes, and I spun around to see Blake a couple of feet from us, his fists clenched.
I approached Blake slowly and watched his shoulders in case he decided to use that closed hand on my face. “I was just walking by.”
The fire in his eyes could have set off a massive explosion. He pushed me aside and turned his accusing gaze to Lindsay. “I told you to leave. You gave up your right to come here the minute you asked for space.” The hatred in his tone drained all the color from Lindsay’s face. “You don’t look at my friends. You don’t talk to them. You wanted out. You’re out.”
She wrapped her arms around her torso as if she could shield herself from the world. She didn’t turn away or respond. It was as if invisible chains held her stationary. Chains that only Blake seemed to hold the keys to.
“Let’s just go.” I grabbed his arm and attempted to pull him away from her.
His anger swung from Lindsay to me. He grabbed my shirt, and the smell of alcohol stung my nostrils. “You better stop trying to take everything that’s mine.”
I pushed at his iron grip. “You’re crazy.”
“Am I? You’re supposed to be my teammate. My friend.”
My insides boiled, while my face stayed a mask of steel, refusing to justify Blake’s jealous tirade with a reaction. People around us whispered, their stares darts of accusation. Blake’s performance was Oscar worthy.
He dropped his hands, and I backed away. With a quick look to my right, I saw that Lindsay had left. Now, I could too. “You’re drunk, Blake. I’ll talk to you when you can walk a straight line.”
“Don’t you walk away from me!” he hissed, but I did, pushing through the sea of bodies surrounding us. “I made you! You hear me? You’re nothing without me!”
My feet sped up. I needed to escape before I did or said something stupid. He didn’t make me. I made me. I buried Fatty James!
My truck was sandwiched between an Acadia and a two-ton Ford, so I didn’t see Lindsay leaning against my driver’s side door until I rounded the corner. The urge to punch the side panel and scream, “Why me?” was consuming.
“I’m so sorry, Cody. I didn’t mean to put you in that situation. No wonder everyone hates me now.” Her voice was a mixture of exhaustion and sadness.
“Stop apologizing. I’m not mad at you.” I was mad at the world. I was mad that my easy senior year was turning into a nightmare. I’d been here before. Tom’s ex. That day in the locker room. It all happened because I couldn’t walk away.
“Do you have a ride?” Even as I asked the question, I knew it meant trouble. This wasn’t allowed, being alone with Blake’s girl—former or not.
“I came with Jill.”
Jill wasn’t getting anywhere near a car. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” I could almost see the rope being tied for my inevitable hanging.
She eyed the crowd watching our conversation like people staring at the scene of an accident. They wouldn’t be too far off base. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
“No, it’s not, but I’m doing it anyway.”
I opened the truck door for her and slammed it hard after she was seated. Looking back at the house once more, I slid into the driver’s seat. I wouldn’t allow myself to consider tomorrow. At least not until I could fully breathe.
Rounding the final curve out of Chugger’s yard, I turned on the radio, hoping it would drown out the heavy roar of unanswered questions. My truck blazed a good fifteen miles above the speed limit with the glow of the full moon the only light besides my brights. I needed the speed, and cops wouldn’t be a factor until I hit the highway back into town.
“I’m not a slut,” Lindsay said out of nowhere. “I know that’s what people are saying, but I’m not. Blake’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me.” Please don’t explain it to me.
“I shouldn’t have come. I knew it was a mistake and did it anyway. I just thought, with Skylar and him dating…” She squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her teeth like she was delivering a punishment to herself. “He’s been telling people I cheated on him. I didn’t.”
“Okay.” I prayed she’d end the conversation there. The hole I stumbled into was already twelve feet deep, and each word heaped another bucketful of dirt on top of me.
“You probably think I’m a coward for not saying anything. For not standing up for myself.”
I felt her waiting gaze even though my eyes were locked on the road ahead. I had no intention of ridiculing her for doing the same thing I was doing. “I’m not here to judge. I just want to get you home.”
“This summer we had a scare.” Her voice cracked. “I was two weeks late.”
“Lindsay, you don’t have to tell me this.”
She continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “All I could think of was that I was trapped. And the idea of being with him for the rest of my life scared me more than walking away. When the test was negative, I knew I had to separate myself from him somehow.”
She exhaled slowly. “The scare affected him too, so he was okay when I said I needed some time to myself. After a week of distance, I grew stronger. Soon a week turned into a month, and I thought for a few glorious days, I might really be free.”
“And that’s what you want isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. He still watches me. Calls me. Demands to know where I am and who I’m with.” She hung her head and whispered, “He still controls me.” With those words, she finally quit talking and stared out the window.
Her two-story brick house came into view, and I pulled into her driveway before the silence grew any more awkward. She opened the door and slipped out. “Thanks for listening, Cody. I know I dumped the world on you. I guess I just needed a fri
end tonight.”
I dipped my chin, and seconds later she was safely inside, but the chaos inside lingered.
He still controls me.
The streets were quiet as I drove home, but the song Skylar sent me blared through my speakers. I pictured Lindsay standing in the field, refusing to fight Blake’s words.
He still controls me.
I’d played the game for years. Was willing to sacrifice my reputation, my pride and my conviction just to stay in line. To stand there like Lindsay while Blake called all the shots. But maybe freedom was possible. Maybe I just needed to be smarter than the king of Madison.
He still controls me.
I hit repeat on the song.
Not anymore.
SKYLAR
I woke up to my cell phone ringing with a number I’d added only a week ago.
“Blake?” My voice was hoarse with sleep and surprise. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I know. Sooo sorry. I just…I just needed to talk.”
I recognized the slur in his soft murmur. Ricky would come to our house sounding just like that after a long night of drinking. My father would make him coffee and listen to all his sad stories. I’d listen, too, through my cracked bedroom door. The stories always seemed to revolve around a woman.
“Is something wrong?” I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“Yes. I feeeel…lost.” He sounded barely coherent. “You go…sleep. Bad to call.”
“No, it’s fine. Really.” I switched on the side lamp and let my vision adjust to the light. “Did something happen?”
“You’re sooooo pretty. Especially your lips. I like your lips.” A long silence followed. “But I don’t like Cody looking at them.”
His name brought a familiar twisting in my stomach. I swallowed.
Blake muttered a curse. “He takes everything.”
I was about to ask for more details when he cut me off, his voice suddenly deep and thoughtful. “Nobody really cares about me. They just want to use me. They take…take…take.”
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