She had gone out with him because she had seen no other means of escape. Now it seemed like he was her cross to bear for all eternity.
You're not supposed to think about that. Not tonight. There was a drink in her hand. She couldn't remember how it had gotten there and looked at it with some surprise. Beer. I don't drink beer.
Had somebody given it to her?
She tossed the can aside, cautionary tales about date rape ringing in her ears, and heard it splash. Someone cursed, and Val quickly made herself scarce.
Then she remembered that she had been on her way to use the bathroom, but then she had found the empty can in the sink and planned to dispose of it when—when what? She couldn't remember.
God , thought Val, What's wrong with me? A heartbeat later she smiled bitterly. What wasn't?
But sane people didn't stand off to one side of the room, smiling to themselves after hurling half-empty beer cans, and Val checked around to make sure nobody was watching her.
I'm losing my mind. The Otoño residents had outdone themselves on such a minimal budget. Even Val had to admit this. Each dorm room was a miniature party in and of itself, with the exception of a few abstainers.
Val wasn't brave enough to venture into the dorms down the hall where things sounded more than a little noisy and wild, but somebody had set up a strobe here, in her and Mary's common room. She could see the shadowy figures bobbing in the light, changing poses with the stupefyingly jerky motions of a phantasmagoria.
All around her, music blared. Hard rock, dubstep, rap, and pop all came together to form a discordant roar that soon had Val's ears ringing.
Beneath the dimmed lights she felt blind, deaf, raw and exposed: a tenuously connected bundle of nerve endings capable of flying apart at any moment.
The whole scene had a surreal nightmarish quality. As she poured herself some punch from an orange keg, she half-expected to see him standing there, watching her from the shadows.
It was with a scream that she dropped her cup of punch—at least, she hoped it was just punch—when some drunken boy brushed past her on his way to the bathroom, startling both of them and eliciting a curse.
“The fuck is your problem?” he muttered, already in the process of unbuckling his pants as he slammed the bathroom door behind him.
Val leaned against the wall to steady herself. The lights blurred before her eyes. Her chest hurt. Her head hurt. There was a ringing in her ears that wouldn't go away. You're acting crazy.
Everyone seemed to be looking back at her, watching her like some sort of communal Eye. Nobody's watching you. It's all in your head. She had told herself the same thing at Gavin's party—and look where that had gotten her. How does that saying go? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?
She let out her breath and stumbled to the buffet. The food was about what she had expected on a college salary. Chips and sodas of all brands and varieties, store-bought cookies on clearance, cheap pizza from a local greasy spoon. There was a cooler she didn't recognize, which one of Mary's friends must have brought, and when she opened the lid she found it stuffed full of ice and beer. Val let the lid fall closed just as a burly athlete shoved past her to grab two Heinekens.
Val looked longingly at her bed. She could say she drank too much and got tipsy—that was normal, right? Needing to lie down after a long night?
Except it hasn't been a long night. It's not even 10 p.m. And she was pretty sure Mary knew she didn't drink because Mary had spent most of the night with one eye fixed on her like a hawk.
Somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around to see a smiling red-haired guy looking down at her. Mary's friend, James.
No, not James.
The color drained from Val's face as the room tilted and rocked in the unsteady light of the strobe, and the ringing in her ears grew to a pulsing roar. Oh James, oh God, oh God oh God oh God. Jade—that was his name, not Jude or James or any other derivation, but Jade like the stone—moved his lips silently. It took her a moment to realize he was speaking. Not that she could hear him over the throbbing baseline of Mary's mix CD.
“What?” He cupped his hand over his mouth like a megaphone and presumably repeated whatever it was that he had said before. Val shook her head and watched, amused in spite of the grief threatening to overtake her heart, as he pantomimed dancing with one hand and made his other hand dance alongside it.
Jade bowed, with theatrical flair, and extended one hand to her, palm upturned. The gesture made her blood run cold because, well, he had also done that. He had also had a penchant for the theater, he had said so himself; he was a monster who played at being human: an animal masquerading as a man.
Dancing sounded like a really bad idea. Val felt as if she might faint at any moment. On the other hand, dancing with Jade meant that she wouldn't have to wear a mask of indifference as she pretended she didn't care that nobody else was coming up to talk to her.
After an awkward pause, Val took his hand. The song playing was slow, with a slight swing to it. Val couldn't place the name offhand. It was the ballad of a hard rock band that had peaked in popularity a few years before.
How things can change in just a few years…. Val closed her eyes and let her body sway to the beat. This was…surprisingly nice. Normal. God, how she missed being normal. Not being the girl everyone stared at, whispered about, obsessed over.
He had been the last man to hold her like this. It had been right before he tried to kill her.
Don't think about that. Too late. Her limbs had stiffened as her body recognized the vulnerability of the possession she was currently in.
And there was that waltz in the dark. He had reigned in his strength, but had wielded it like a whip; he had no compunctions about letting her fall. No, he had made that quite clear.
Painfully so. The slow rock song ended. Val pulled away as a fast techno song came on, prompting the other freshmen to swarm the dance floor for a rave. Jade's mouth opened again and he tilted his head towards the hall indicating that she should follow.
A feeling of apprehension bubbled up in her gut like nausea. Why on earth did he want to get her alone?
Hesitantly, she followed Jade into the hallway. It was a lot quieter there—more so when he shut the door behind them. The click of the latch mimicked her skipping heartbeat. Through the ringing in her ears she could still make out the loud music emanating from the other rooms.
At least it wasn't as deafening as Alex's amp. She cleared her throat nervously, smoothing down the skirt of the dress that Mary had forced on her.
“What?”
“I was saying it didn't look like you were having much fun.”
No wonder Mary had been staring at her. She looked at the floor. “Parties really aren't my thing.”
“Or ice-breakers?”
“Those, too.”
He smiled. “What is your thing, then?” “Going for walks, reading, art, animals.” She paused. “I really like working with animals. I worked at a shelter once. Back home. I sort of have a way with them, I guess.”
Then she froze, bracing herself for that inevitable question. Where's home? But he surprised her. “Are you feeling okay? I felt you stumble. You know. Back there.” The tips of his ears turned a little pink. “You looked like you were having a panic attack.”
“I…just get a little dizzy sometimes.” She smiled, weakly, and tried not to think about why.
“Can I get you something to drink? To eat?”
“A drink would be nice. Anything without alcohol.”
“Two bottled waters, then. Got it.”
Exhausted, Val sank to the floor, carefully arranging her skirt so it demurely covered her thighs. He's not coming back. Could she blame him? Frowning, she tugged at the neckline of her dress—Mary's dress—wondering how she had failed to notice just how much cleavage it showed.
Damaged goods. “Here's your water.” Jade handed her one of the bottles. “Sorry it took
so long.”
She toyed with the cap. It was sealed, just as she thought it would be. But she had to be sure. “Thanks.”
“Cheers.”
They touched water bottles. The gesture was silly, but it made her smile a little.
Maybe for tonight at least, I can pretend to be somebody else.
▪▫▪▫▪▫▪ Val's abrupt departure hadn't gotten noticed. Mary seemed inordinately pleased about the whole matter. “You and Jade looked so cute together,” she kept saying the next morning, as they were picking up soda and beer cans from the floor. Someone had brought along a bottle of Grey Goose, and Val wondered who that belonged to.
“We just had one dance,” she said, dropping the liquor bottle into the plastic bag.
“But you left with him. I saw you.” “Just into the hall. I got a little dizzy from all the loud noises, I guess. We drank water and talked.” “What did you two talk about? Did you kiss?” “What? No! No—I just met him.”
“These things can happen pretty fast if you let them. You're keeping those? Yuck.” Val had picked up some plastic bracelets flung from the ravers' flailing wrists the night before. The kandi were handmade with brightly colored pony beads and plastic charms. Val kind of liked them. They were too pretty to throw her away, and reminded her of the friendship bracelets she and her friends had made back in grade school.
“I'll wash them off,” she said, shrugging. “And anyway, I don't move fast.”
I made that mistake before.
“Okay, whatever,” Mary said. “But you're making a big stink over something that was nothing.” “So you were watching me?” The garbage bag in Mary's hands dropped a few inches as her shoulders sank. “Well, not, like, stalking you or anything, but yeah, I was keeping an eye out. Making sure you were okay. You seemed a little depressed, is all.”
That word again. “I'm fine. I'm just surprised. I didn't see you around much.” “I was in and out. Alex wanted me to stop by his dorm and, well—” she smiled as if to say, you know how these things go. But she didn't. She'd never had the chance “—at least you had fun, right?”
“I guess.” Had she had fun? It had been a long while since she had attributed that word to herself. She had enjoyed talking with Jade. He was so calm and down to earth, and very grounding. “How well do you know Jade?”
“A little, I guess. He's friends with Alex—sort of. As friends as you can be with Alex. Don't pretend otherwise,” she said, as Val adopted an innocent expression. “I know he can be an ass. But he's not too bad once you get to know him—anyway, yeah, Jade was in my campus tour group, same as Meredith, and I talked with him some at the ice-breaker.”
“Hmm,” said Val.
“He seems like a real nice guy.”
That was my impression, too.
Val's eyes landed on Mary's old alarm clock, then skittered back in shock. “Oh shit, is that the right time?”
“Pretty sure. Why?” “Shit.” Val dropped her trash bag and tossed the paper towel roll aside. “I have a class at three-fifteen. I'm late.” She raced into the bathroom to brush the scum from her teeth, then poked her head out again. “I'm sorry. I'm not flaking. I'll clean as soon as I get back, I—”
“Chill, Val. I'll probably be done by then.” She smiled a little as if to soften her words and Val wondered if Mary was as cool with this as she was pretending to be. “If it's an issue, I'll call Alex to come over and help. He owes me.”
Val shuddered internally, not wanting to think about what sorts of activities the two of them might get up to in her absence. She hoped Alex wasn't so sleazy that he might consider having sex in her bed.
You've been reading too many roommate horror stories on the internet. Hopefully most of them were just that, stories. Urban legends. Not, say, real.
“Sounds like a plan,” she called from the bathroom. Her face was pale, with a few splotches of breakouts from too much makeup and too little sleep. She touched up her eyebrows with the black pencil and applied more mascara. Then she slid her contacts back into place—did Mary notice?—and pulled on a green Henley buttoned up to her throat and a pair of jeans that had been worn clear through the knees.
She grabbed her black coat from the top of her hamper and thrust her arms through the sleeves as she walked back into the bedroom. As she did, she noticed a slip of paper on their shoe mat with her name on it.
“What's this?” she asked, puzzled.
“Hmm?”
It was a mail pick-up form. “Did somebody leave something for me last night?” “Must have come this morning, I guess.” Mary frowned. “I think it's from the front desk in the main office. Looks like somebody send you a care package or something. Lucky you.”
Her parents?
They must have. Nobody else has my address.
The main office was on her walk to class and she was already doomed to tardiness anyway. She wondered what her parents had sent her, whether it was from her parents at all.
A cool autumnal breeze lifted her hair, tinged with the smell of petrichor from the rain a few days before. A feeling of déjà vu swamped her, nearly sending Val reeling back from the sheer force of it.
I've been through this before. Exactly a year ago. When I picked up that letter from the office of DHS.
The letter, which was from Gavin.
The invitation to his horrible game, and the start of this whole entire nightmare. The police had never found him.
Don't think about that.
He was still out there somewhere.
If he knew that I was still alive….
He would kill her; of that, she was certain. Gavin was both proud and vicious. He was not one to leave loose ends dangling.
(I feel I could kill. I feel that I might like it.) She pushed open the door. A bell tinkled overhead and the sound made her jump. The reception desk was manned by a college student. She was sitting behind the fake oak counter, chatting with another girl in the swivel chair next to hers. Both of them looked up at the sound and the one closest to the desk smiled.
“Hi there! Can I help you with something?” “I, um.” Val held up the slip. “I got one of these today.”
“You got a package?” The girl stood up. “Okay, let me check. Just one sec. Last name?” “Ki—Klein.”
“Klein with a C or a K?”
“K.”
“Valerie?”
“Yes.” Relief colored her voice. Why, exactly, she wasn't sure. “I'm just going to have to see some student ID— good,” she said, when Val held up her plastic card. “And sign here. Okay, great. Thanks. Have a nice day!”
The two girls were chatting again before Val was even out the door. Whether intentional or not, the slight went unnoticed as Val ripped open the outer envelope from her parents to reveal a second one within. She stared hard at the address.
It was one she knew by heart.
Why is Lisa writing to me? And then, more worryingly, How did she get my address? A quick glance at the first envelope dispelled the latter concern. Her parents had forwarded the letter. Simple. As for the former….
Val tore open the letter from Lisa without further pretense. The faint but unmistakable smell of perfume rose up from the folds as a flurry of pink-white petals fluttered to the ground at her feet.
No. not perfume. Aftershave.
His aftershave.
No, she thought. No, no, no, no, no.
Sandalwood and rose. She would recognize it anywhere. And the flowers were valerian blossoms. But the letter was from Lisa.
Forwarded by her parents.
It can't be from him. It can't be.
Her eyes fell to the gleaming writing on the creamy white paper inside. Just three simple words, but the hand in which they were written drove a splinter of ice deep inside her heart.
Are you frightened?
Lisa's handwriting—
His words.
Chapter Six
Iris “In the psychodynamic model of behavior, there are three basic com
ponents that you must remember.”
The small classroom was stifling. Val tried to pay attention to the lecture knowing that it was in poor taste to drift off so early on in the semester but her brain was refusing to comply.
Are you frightened?
(Do I frighten you?)
“Do you remember what they are? Anyone? I just discussed this.”
Somebody at the back raised their hand and delivered the right answer. “Well, at least one person is getting something out of this lecture,” the professor said, eying them all with disapproval. “This does not bode well for your test scores.”
Midterms seemed eons away, though. This fear, this was real. In the now.
“This might refresh your memory.” Professor Hendricks clicked his remote and a splash panel of clip-art appeared on the projection screen. It detailed the finer points of the psychodynamic model.
Id was a sloppily dressed man holding a beer in one hand and a pornographic magazine in the other. A smelly cigar was clamped between his fleshy lips.
Very subtle . Val felt a dull pang of what might have been amusement had she been in a more receptive mood.
Superego was an elegant man in a three-piece suit and a monocle. He was staring at Id with obvious disgust. The words, “Well, I never!” were encapsulated in a large thought bubble over his neatly combed hair. He looked, in Val's opinion, more like the Monopoly Guy than the paragon of virtue.
Ego was a harassed-looking man with a combover. He was dressed like a crossing guard, replete with a hand-held stop sign.
“For those of you who didn't do the reading, the id is focused on getting its needs met straight away. This is called instant gratification.
“These needs are with us at birth, and highly primal, fueled by basic biological drives for food, sex, and various other pleasure-driven activities necessary for survival. Part of maturity is learning to put these needs on hold in favor of more abstract priorities, such as laws and personal obligations. This is the job of the superego.
“The superego is the voice of reason. It consists of our morals, and our ability to differentiate between what is right—and what is wrong. For example: you might desperately crave a doughnut from the Student Union at 6 A.M. when you know they are fresh from the oven—” several students giggled and high-fived “—but alas, you then remember that you are supposed to be on a diet. Your superego would remind you of this, and discourage you from purchasing from one of those delicious mango jelly doughnuts it knows you love so much.
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