by Allen, Dylan
My daydreams about Duke were delusions.
He’ll never want me. For the same reasons a princess wouldn’t want him. He thinks I’m not good enough for him. He just wants to fuck me tonight. If I say no, he’ll probably completely ignore me altogether.
I snap the mirror shut and pull out my phone. My finger hovers over James’s name; my stomach swirls with indecision and humiliation as I contemplate asking him to make his way to the lake now.
I couldn’t ask Duke to take me back home. That would just make things even more awkward. But I could have James arrive thirty minutes after we do and say he needed me for something.
Just then, Duke’s hand comes to lay on my knee, and I jump and almost drop my phone.
“Stop thinking so much. Relax, the party will be fun,” he says and then lifts the center console up.
“Here, drink this.” He thrusts a silver flask at me.
“What is it?” I take it, but only eye it with suspicion.
I really planned on not drinking tonight.
“Just some tequila. Take a shot and then relax. We’re gonna swim and jet ski and eat burgers and watch fireworks. You can’t show up looking like you sucked on a lemon the whole way there.”
I laugh at his characterization and realize that my face did feel tight. I considered the bottle. When would I have a chance for a night like this again?
“Fine, I guess you’re right.”
I take a small sip and then open my Instagram app and try to relax while I scroll.
It’s an endless stream of flawless women, washing their makeup off to reveal the beautiful skin underneath. I watch one for the same makeup I’m wearing now.
“These are hideous,” a perky blonde exclaims. Her eyes are wide with exaggerated distress, and she pouts prettily while pointing to the dark circles under her eyes. If she thinks those faint, temporary smudges are hideous, what would she think of me?
“Hey, we’re here,” Duke says and breaks me out of my tortured thoughts.
He rolls the windows down, and the warm summer breeze floods the car. It carries with it the smells and sounds of summer—water splashing and meat charring over charcoal.
I look out the window and watch the people frolicking by the lake.
I sit up straighter, looking around trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
There’s a huge granite cliff face that rises out of one side of the lake, and rather than the grassy knolls of West Winsome’s lake, this one has a sandy shore.
My nerves skitter, and I scramble out of the car and rush to catch up with Duke, who is already halfway across the massive parking lot.
“Where are we?” I ask, winded and flushed from my sprint. I glance around nervously at the crowd of people ringing the lake. There’s not just one party, but several happening. And I don’t see a single familiar face.
“This is Devil’s Mountain. East Winsome. Come on.” He turns to walk away.
I grab his arm and yank him to a stop.
“Wait!” I hiss.
“What the hell, Lizzie?” he whines.
“This is where that cult lived, Duke. We’ve never been allowed here.”
“Quit clutching your pearls. The cult has been gone for years. There’s only a town now, and these people didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve got the same stupid small-town mentality as everyone else in West Winsome,” he says with disgust before he yanks his arm free of my hold and strides away.
His words hit me square in the chest.
Am I guilty of the very thing I’ve been a victim of? The thought makes my stomach hurt. I would never want to make anyone feel as excluded and out of place as I do. That’s not who I am.
Duke’s willingness to mingle with these people though, surprises me. His father is just as elitist as mine. As far as I’ve known, so is he.
I hurry after him. I call his name, but he’s too far away, and I lose him a few times in the throng of revelers that crowd the lakeshore.
When I finally catch up to him, I’m sweating under my wig and trying desperately to wipe it away before it runs down my cheeks.
“Duke, maybe we should just go.” I grab his arm and he looks down at me, his expression makes his annoyance with my request clear. He shakes my arm off and glowers down at me.
“Don’t be crazy, we just—"
“Dukeeeey, baby!” The loud cry reaches us before the owner of the voice is visible.
A young woman appears from behind a group of people and breaks into a run. Her grin is bright and wide and her corn silk blonde hair streaks behind her like a sail on a boat.
Unlike mine, there’s no doubt that hers is growing from her scalp. Her perfect body—all ample, perky breasts and slim, but rounded hips—is on full display in a tiny white bikini. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, and I jump to get of out her way as she leaps into Duke’s open arms.
I watch, stupefied, as she shrieks in delight and he spins her around, his face full of the same excitement as hers.
He puts her down and she lands on her docksider clad feet with a vivacious and exaggerated bounce.
Then, like the girl he invited isn’t standing right next to him, he leans down and kisses her.
The crowd of people who followed her over hoot and whistle while they kiss like they’re trying to eat each other’s tongues.
I’m not sure what I’m feeling, only that it’s not anything good. My heart is a frantic fist slamming repeatedly against the inside of my chest begging me to help.
I need to get out of here.
As I fumble in my bag for my phone, fear pulls away from the cluster of emotions I couldn’t name a second ago and asserts itself fully. It acts like warm water under a passing hurricane and escalates the churning in my gut.
My equilibrium is rubble.
But, I’m not really sure why.
I’ve got nothing to be afraid of.
I know this.
Yet, my fear only intensifies, rising up my chest, into my throat, and morphing into a scream that I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to contain.
I try to focus on unlocking my phone. I regret the tequila shots I took when my vision blurs for a minute.
I try to calm myself with deep, slow breaths and proactive thoughts.
I’ll call James.
He’ll come for me.
My fingers finally close around my phone. I hold it tight to counteract their trembling.
“You must be Liz.” The girl’s high-pitched, friendly voice startles me, and I drop my phone on the ground.
I jerk my head to see who’s talking to me and feel the blood drain from my face when I see it’s her.
She’s wearing a broad smile, but it’s unabashedly false. Her brown eyes are as hard and unforgiving as the granite wall that looms over the lake. I’m used to indifference from the folks in Winsome, but this level of disdain from a total stranger is disconcerting. I glance at Duke, but he’s busy doing something on his phone.
I look back at the woman. She’s older than me. Closer to Duke’s age and very pretty. But, the worst she can do is make me uncomfortable. She’s just like all the other girls in Winsome who look down on me from the perches of perfect looks.
I’m not scared of them, and I’m not scared of her.
I lift my chin a little and smile stiffly. “I’m Elisabeth. And, who are you?”
“I’m Etta. Duke’s girlfriend.” She drapes around Duke’s waist and pulls him close.
I look sharply back at Duke.
He’s smiling, but his eyes are full of warning that say I better keep my mouth shut.
Oh, he doesn’t have to worry about that.
I’m not afraid of a fight, but I would be outnumbered here and right now, all I can think of is how I’m going to get home.
“Nice-nice to meet you, too.” I want to kick myself for the slight stammer in my voice.
“I didn’t say it was nice to meet you.”
She looks me up and down, her satisfied smir
k still firmly in place. I struggle not to fidget.
“Your dress is a little fancy for our lake party, and your wig is on crooked.” She eyes the pink dress I threw on in hopes that Duke would tell me I looked pretty in it. She looks up at Duke. Her eyes widen as they share a smile, like they’re sharing an inside joke.
And it’s clearly at my expense.
I am such a fool.
“I had something else before this, today. It was a costume party.” I flush hot at the giggles that bounce around the group gathered around.
“I’ve got my suit on underneath,” I add, and they laugh even louder.
She sweeps a quelling glare over the little crowd of people and the laughter dies down immediately.
“Guys, we’re being so rude. Stop. She’s new,” she drawls with a saccharine sweet insincerity before she turns her attention back to me. “You should take it off if you have your suit on, we were just getting ready to go for a swim.”
My gut twists like it’s caught in a vice.
No way in the world am I taking my dress off in front of these people. It’s damn hot and the lake would feel great, but I don’t plan on staying long enough to find out.
There’s something sinister in the air here. Something more than just pranks and teasing. I can feel it.
“Actually, I think I’m just going to go home. My brother will come get me.” I hate how meek I sound, but I can’t help it.
She laughs, but I’m not sure at what. Her teeth glint in the sunlight, and there’s something vicious about her that turns her from beauty queen to villain for an instant.
I know I’ll draw her. At some point. And I know that when I can’t get her quite right on paper, I’ll wish I’d been able to capture it with my camera.
“You should relax. Have a drink.” She holds out an open beer bottle.
I look from the bottle to her face and find the beauty queen smile back in place.
I look at Duke and find him watching me. He smiles but not quickly enough to hide the look of annoyance that was there before it.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask him, and want to die when he nods at my drink.
“Don’t be a drag, Liz. Have that drink…you look like you need it!” he snaps.
I glance around, and their little group is watching me—some suspiciously, some wearing that look of fake friendliness.
I don’t understand it. I don’t know any of them, and yet, they all seem to dislike me.
“Go on,” she sneers.
“Yeah, come on and then we can get back partying.”
I eye the bottle warily as I consider my next move. It’s just a tiny sip. The sooner I do this, the sooner I can get away from them.
I put the bottle to my lips and take a sip.
I choke as soon as a bitter, metallic tasting liquid hits my tongue. It shoots out of my mouth in a spray of showers on the front of my dress in pin-prick-sized splatters.
I cough, as some slides down my throat.
I hack and spit, desperate to get the terrible taste out of my mouth.
My eyes burn, my nose runs, and I drop the bottle to the ground. It lands with a thud, and the rest of the noxious liquid seeps out and into the dirt, pooling under my sandals. I jump back, and it splashes on my legs.
I look up at them in horror.
“What is that?” I gasp and sputter still trying to get it out of my mouth.
“Oops, wrong bottle,” Etta says, her eyes wide with apology, but her voice drips with glee.
Everyone else watches me as if in frozen animation. And then Etta claps her hands together and lets out a huge howl like a wolf, and she and the rest of her friends burst into loud, raucous laughter.
They double over, holding their knees, and I stand there with the foul liquid drying on my lips and my stomach churning as I place the smell.
“It smells like burned hair,” I gasp so quietly I’m sure no one’s heard me. There’s a fire in my gut, and I remember Dina telling me that some drug tasted like burned hair. I remember then saying I had no idea what burnt hair tastes like. But clearly I was wrong because the taste is distinctive and calls to mind how my hair dryer used to overheat when I had long hair.
“Did you give me drugs?”
Etta shrieks in laughter.
“Drugs!” She doubles over laughing with two of the other women beside her. As abruptly as it started, her laughter stops. In a voice loud enough to carry over the crowd, she says, “such a princess.”
Dread makes my head swim. I remember how out of it I was that night with Duke. I can’t afford to lose my wits again like that out here. Not with these people.
“What does it do?”
“You’ll thank me later. Hopefully, it will help remove that stick you’ve got up your ass.”
I ignore her and turn back to Duke.
“I want to go home.”
His face is aimed at the ground, but the tips of his ears are tinged red.
I don’t know where to look, my gaze won’t settle…maybe because I can’t find a single familiar thing to land on.
“Why did you bring me here?” I ask no one in particular. My humiliation is on full display. I brush a hand over my face, angrily wiping away the traitorous tears that are falling. I wrap my arms around myself.
“Why? What’s wrong with here?” she asks, her eyes hard again.
“Nothing,” I say and start digging for my phone again.
“What? Wasn’t our welcome nice enough for you? You want us to lick your feet because you’re a Wolfe?” She sneers.
A few seconds of rifling jogs my memory.
With no thought for my dignity, and desperate to get out of here, I drop to my knees and start running my hand over the patches of grass where we’re standing trying to find my phone.
“What the hell are you doing?” Duke asks.
“Looking for my phone. I dropped it!” I snap without looking at him.
“Oh, you mean this?” I look up and find Etta waving it in my face. I stand and reach for it, and she tosses it behind her. One of her friends catches it, and I march toward her.
She tosses it and it sails over my head. I whip around to see a big, brutish-looking redheaded guy holding it. I march over to him.
“Give me my phone,” I demand. He holds it over my head, and when I make a leap for it and miss, his friends laugh.
I whirl around to face Duke. “Get it from him!” I snap, my inhibitions and fears melting away.
He looks up sharply, his expression unreadable before he looks down at Etta as if I should direct the question at her.
She nestles even closer to him, but doesn’t take her eyes off me.
Her eyes burn with a contempt I don’t understand, but can feel as surely as I feel the sweat rolling down my back.
“Duke!” I turn to plead with him. My voice shakes. There is an ache in the back of my throat and dread fills my gut like a pile of rocks when neither one of them say anything.
He won’t even look at me.
Etta speaks up. “You wanna go home? You’ll wait until we’re done. You’re not going to ruin our party by calling your brother, so he can call your daddy.”
I turn back to the guy who’s still holding my phone.
The sun is blazing down on us, and cold prickles in my chest, but I still manage to croak. “Give that back, please.” My hands curl into fists at my helplessness.
Etta groans and wrinkles her nose in disgust.
“Ugh. Give her the stupid phone before she cries. It’s dead anyway.” She plucks my phone from her friend’s hand and drops it on the ground.
“We’re leaving. Have a fun time. Try not to drown,” she says with a false sweetness and a vengeful curve of her lips. She snaps her fingers, actually snaps her fingers, as she turns, and her little entourage—Duke included—turns and follows her.
I pick up my phone and find that it is indeed dead. I stand there, trying not to panic, but the effort is draining, and I’m deflated. My humiliation
is only outdone by my feelings of powerlessness and self-loathing.
Get ahold of yourself, Clover.
I cringe at my unintentional use of that name. It’s what my mother called me. Thinking of her now feels like rubbing salt in that wound. Somehow, all of this feels like her fault.
How am I to know how to be a woman and handle things like this when I didn’t have anyone to show me?
I go through the breathing exercises James taught me to help calm down after I started having nightmares. He was away at college, and Phil had just done his first act.
In the middle of this crowd, I force myself to focus on my breathing and heartbeat until both start to steady.
Once I’m relaxed, I open my eyes and assess my surroundings.
There are groups of people congregating at mini campsites set up all along the sandy bank. Music blares from speakers, and curls of smoke slither up from grills and campfires carrying the smell of burning wood and charred meat into the air.
There’s a volleyball net set up at the far end of the shore, and people are swimming, canoeing, or out on paddle boats in the middle of the huge lake. My senses are sharper. Everything is clearer, brighter, louder, more colorful suddenly, and I have a passing thought about the liquid I swallowed.
Surrounded by all of these people, in their happy bubbles of friendship and carefree enjoyment, I’ve never felt more alone in all my life.
I can’t believe my phone died.
What if Duke won’t take me home? I push back that flare of worry.
Duke isn’t going to leave me out here or do anything that would draw the ire of my father or brother.
He’ll take me home whenever he gets tired of this game he’s playing. I just have to wait them out.
I look over to where they’re lounging on beach chairs and decide to get as far away from them as possible until it’s time to go. I also need water and to get out of this dress.
I look around and notice a large group on the other side of the lake. It looks like a children’s birthday party. Bright balloons are tied to the trees, and a dozen kids are gathered around a pinata that one of them is swinging a stick at.
They may not notice someone sneaking up and grabbing a bottle of water. I decide to take my chances and head over there. As I walk, a man crossing the dock ahead of me, catches my eyes. He’s carrying a pair of water skis on his shoulder down the pier toward where the boats are docked.
