by Amy Crandall
There were two messages: one from Jules, and one from Mike. At the sight of Mike’s number on her lock screen, Abigale’s heart sped up. Was he okay? When he hadn’t answered her repeated calls and texts, she had curled up in a ball and cried until she was too exhausted to cry anymore.
She checked the message from Mike first. It was sent at three-thirty in the morning, much later than when she discovered the video. Her stiff muscles relaxed as she read the message.
Mike: Hey, Abby. I saw you called. I hope everything is okay. I know you’re probably asleep right now, but I figured I’d text you anyway. I had a great time tonight. I hope you did too. Love, Mike xx
Memories of the previous night rushed back to her. The feeling of his fingers intertwined with hers, the sensation of his lips brushing over her own. She felt giddy, a feeling she rarely had.
Then she checked the message from Jules, and the feeling immediately melted away.
Jules: Hey, Abby! How did the date go? I hope you didn’t hurt him too badly…
The true weight of what she had done hit her. She did the exact opposite of what she was supposed to do. Instead of defusing his feelings for her, Abigale had fueled them.
She typed a quick reply, letting Jules know that the date went better than it should have. Guilt overtook her as she sent the message. She had promised Jules she would end it, and instead had ended up falling a little bit farther for the boy with the deep green eyes and boyish charm.
Jules replied instantly, and Abigale opened up the message, anxious about what she was going to say.
Jules: I thought we talked about this, Abby. You agreed it would be better if you ended it with him. Call me.
Abigale weighed her options. She could either call Jules and risk being scolded or ignore the message and get on with her day.
She dialed Jules’ number, holding the phone up to her ear.
“Abby,” Jules greeted after the third ring.
“I know what you’re going to say, Jules, I—”
“Do you want to be with him?” Jules cut in, her voice surprisingly cold.
Abigale’s mouth felt dry. “I don’t know, Jules.”
Jules was silent for a moment. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea, Abby, but I can’t order you around. If you want to be with him, you can be.”
Abigale was surprised by her comment. She figured she’d have to plead with Jules for her to be okay with the pairing. “I have to think about it,” Abigale replied, sitting up on her bed. She eyed the rose, and swallowed back a wave of fear, focusing her attention on the conversation at hand. “I don’t know if I should pursue things out not.”
“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure,” Jules said, her voice distant.
“What is it?”
“I just got invited to a party tonight,” replied Jules.
“Oh? Cool,” Abigale said.
“Yeah. Did you want to be my plus one?”
Abigale was taken aback by the offer. “Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Jules laughed. “It’ll be fun. You need a break from all the stress you’ve been under lately.”
“I guess,” Abigale said, laughing with her. “Thanks for the offer, Jules. Where is it?”
The other end of the line was silent for a moment. “Um, it’s at Donny’s place. The whole grade’s been invited.”
Abigale shook her head in disappointment. “Jules, are you sure you should be going?” She didn’t have any problem going to Donny’s, but she was worried about her friend, who’d been abused by him for what might have been a long time. It wasn’t smart of Jules at all.
“Yeah,” Jules said, her voice wavering. “I’ll be fine. I swear I won’t be alone with him at any time tonight.”
“Okay,” Abigale replied reluctantly. "What time should I go over there?”
“Oh! Just be ready by seven. I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay, sounds great! See you then!”
After exchanging farewells, Abigale turned to the current task: ridding her room of the unwanted gifts. She trashed the rose but stuffed the note and USB drive in her drawer. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever need it, but she didn’t want to chance it in case she needed it as evidence.
A notification rang on her phone a few minutes later, and the blood drained from her face. Abigale walked over to her bed where her phone lay, scooped it up and saw a notification from Messenger that had been sent to her five minutes before, almost as soon as Jules hung up with her.
You have a new message from DarkHeart434.
She whipped around to the bedroom window, where the curtains were pulled wide open, revealing the street below. She raced over, gripped the fabric, and yanked her curtains shut. Once the outside world had been cut off, Abigale checked the message.
It was short, but it instilled more fear in her than any other text DarkHeart434 had sent so far. Feeling dizzy, she fell back on her mattress, squeezing her eyes shut. The words bounced around inside of her head, taunting her.
DarkHeart434: See you tonight, dearest Abigale.
Abigale sat up and set her jaw. She wasn’t going to let this random person intimidate her any longer. He was all talk. She typed the message with nimble fingers, pressing send without thinking twice about it. Maybe they’d stop bothering her now. At least, she hoped they’d stop. She stared at the message for a long time that morning, waiting for a reply that never came.
Abigale: Stay away from me. I know who you are. If you touch any of the people I love, I’ll kill you. I swear I will.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
The odds worked out in Abigale’s favor. She didn’t have to ask her mother if she could attend the party, because her mother already “had plans”. Abigale knew this was code for I’m going to sneak around with a man I’m interested in. Don’t worry about me if I’m not home until the wee hours of the morning.
Abigale didn’t complain, knowing her mother would have said no to the party if she’d asked. This way, they both got to do what they wanted without the other knowing.
Abigale sat in the living room, waiting for Jules to arrive. Her mother had left the house a half hour earlier, so she’d had just enough time to slip into some skinny jeans and a top that Jules herself had picked out for her. It showed a little too much cleavage for Abigale’s liking, but she pulled on a tank top underneath so she was still somewhat modest.
Headlights shone through the windows on either side of the door, and seconds later, her phone rang. It was a text from Jules, saying she was waiting in the car.
Abigale raced out of the house, her flats clacking across the pavement. She jumped into the passenger’s side of Jules’ truck and she giggled in excitement.
So this is what it’s like to not do as you’re told, Abigale thought, a wide grin spreading across her mouth.
“You look great,” Jules complimented, glancing at her after they pulled out of the driveway and started down the road.
Abigale raised an eyebrow, looking over her friend. Jules was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were painted on her legs and a low-cut top that would have given Abigale’s mother a heart attack. Her makeup was darker than usual, making her appear to be more like twenty-five than seventeen. However, the ensemble suited her, and Abigale felt a pang of jealousy. She wished she was that confident.
“So do you,” Abigale said. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Jules’ lighthearted smile darkened. She bit her lip so hard it looked like it drew blood. “You’re the only one who knows about Donny. I just needed someone tonight who understands, you know? Besides, you’re pretty fun when you let yourself loose.”
At the mention of Donny, Abigale tensed. Was this why Jules was dressed this way? To make an impression on him?
Jules seemed to read her mind, because she said, “I didn’t dress like this for him. I did it for myself.”
Abigale eyed the bruise peeking out of Jules’ top and sighed. “Good. My mission is to keep you away from him tonight. I hope that
’s okay.”
Jules laughed. “That’s exactly why I brought you, Abby.”
***
They pulled up to Donny’s house ten minutes later, parking on the side of the street. There were at least thirty other cars lined up in front of them.
“Big party?” Abigale asked.
“They always are,” replied Jules, rolling her eyes.
The two climbed out of the truck. While Abigale adjusted her top, Jules came around to the passenger’s side. “So, how was that date? You didn’t talk much about it.”
Snapshots rolled through her mind like the camera roll on her phone: Markus, Damien, the hand-holding, the kissing. “It was…interesting. That’s for sure.”
“Interesting?” Jules said. “Well, how was that kiss?”
“Kiss? How do you know about that? I never told you…”
For a moment, Jules’ eyes widened in alarm. But the look vanished as quickly as it appeared, covered up by a confused smile. “No, I’m pretty sure you mentioned it. You were in his truck. You told me on the phone this morning.”
Abigale thought back to their conversation. “No, I don’t think I did tell you, Jules.”
Jules laughed loudly, punching her in the shoulder. “You so did, Abby. Don’t be ridiculous.”
A horrible feeling settled in her stomach. Abigale wasn’t being ridiculous. The texts from DarkHeart434 came back to her. What if Jules was the one who’d taped that video? What if she was…no, she couldn’t be.
Or could she? Abigale had never received a text or handwritten note while they were together. She had been downstairs getting an icepack when she received that text. Jules could have easily sent it from her phone.
“Abby? Hello?”
Abigale shook her head. “Sorry, what?”
“You seem really tired, Abby. Did you get any sleep last night? Or were you too busy thinking about—”
“Not everyone needs to know about my date!” Abigale interjected in mock outrage.
They were inside the house now. Teenagers carrying red solo cups were either socializing with their friends or grinding on a possible one-night stand. Abigale realized immediately that this was not her type of crowd.
“I was just teasing,” Jules said, giving her a playful nudge with her hip. “C’mon, let’s go get something to drink.”
Abigale was about to protest when she caught sight of someone standing a few feet away from her, a cup in his hand. His eyes, the color of fresh buds in spring, met hers. They widened in surprise.
“Abigale?” he yelled over the crowd of people.
“Did you know he was going to be here?” Abigale asked, whipping around to face Jules.
“No,” Jules answered, “I didn’t.”
A hand settled on her shoulder and spun around. Her muscles relaxed when her eyes met Mike’s intoxicating ones.
“You never mentioned you were going to be here tonight,” he murmured, his fingers curling around her chin, gently pulling her closer. She smelled the alcohol on his breath and immediately wrinkled her nose.
“I could say the same to you, Mike.”
He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Well, I would’ve invited you, but I thought it wasn’t your type of crowd. Guess I was mistaken.”
She shot a pointed look to Jules, who seemed a little uncomfortable by their closeness. “She dragged me here,” Abigale laughed.
“That would explain it.” Mike chuckled. “You always have been very persuasive, Jules.”
Jules flashed him a ghost of a smile then said to Abigale, “I’m going to go get a drink. Want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good for now.”
“Suit yourself,” Jules replied, strolling off.
When she disappeared behind the crowd of drunken teenagers, Abigale turned her focus back to Mike, who gave her another, passion-driven kiss, causing her heart to beat faster. When he pulled away, he took another sip from his cup. “You look great, Abby.”
She blushed at the compliment, but the way his eyes looked over her made her want to cover up. She felt exposed, and she didn’t like it. “Thanks.”
Then she noticed who he’d been talking to. The girl standing a few feet away stared at them, her chocolate brown eyes reflecting hurt. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and she wore a green summer dress that hugged her many curves.
Jealously and guilt brewed in her gut. “Are you sure you didn’t invite me because you figured it wasn’t my crowd, Mike?”
He winced, looking back at his ex with a slight frown. “She just showed up here, Abby. Nothing happened, I swear.”
She merely nodded. “Hi, Bethany,” she said when Bethany walked over, cup in hand.
Abigale could tell that she was already drunk. She eyed her nervously, wondering if she’d end up saying something off color.
Much to Abigale’s surprise, however, Bethany gave her a dopey grin. She slung an arm around Mike and laughed loudly. Her drink sloshed around the cup, and she dumped some of it on herself. Bethany looked down, shrugged, and laughed again. “Oops!”
Abigale glared at Mike. “And I see you got her drunk.”
“No,” he said quickly, appearing equally unnerved. He removed Bethany’s hand from his shoulder.
When he did so, Bethany fell flat on the floor in an ungraceful manner. She got up again and muttered, “I’m good!” before giggling again and sauntering off. Abigale wasn’t sure if she should be surprised at Bethany’s drunken manner, or horrified.
“Then what happened? She’s your date, isn’t she?” she asked Mike over the pop music blaring through the speakers.
“She isn’t!” Mike replied defensively, raising his cup. “I came alone. She was already drunk as hell when she came over to me. All I did was made sure she didn’t fall on her face.”
Abigale looked over to the spot where Bethany disappeared, her lips pursing together in worry. “We did that to her, you know.”
Mike stepped toward Abigale, embracing her in a comforting hug. Burying his face in her shoulder, he mumbled, “I know.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
The first part of the night dragged along like it would be the last day of Abigale’s short, miserable life. She sat on the staircase, a full cup of beer in her hands, eyeing the dark liquid with disgust. She’d seen the effects that the drink could inflict on a person. In fact, she was seeing real, breathing examples stumble around her. Jules had brought her the cup earlier in the evening after Mike disappeared into the crowd. She wasn’t sure where either of them went off to, but she didn’t think she wanted to know.
Her mind betrayed her when she envisioned Mike kissing the drunken Bethany in one of the many rooms of the house. Nervousness stirred in her gut. Surely Mike wouldn’t do that to her, right?
As for Jules, she was probably wasted by then, most likely getting cozy with Donny. The thought made her disgust blossom. She was scowling deeply, her mind messing with her uncertain feelings. Why had she even come? She should have told Jules no, but here she was, watching drunk teenagers stagger up the steps, kicking her accidentally each time, dragging their one-night-stands with them.
Abigale stood up, still holding the red solo cup. She slipped past two couples getting carried away on the lower steps of the staircase and went off to find Jules or Mike, whomever she found first. It was hard to ignore the sinful acts being displayed all over the house, but Abigale tried her best to do so. She thought about her mother, and how she’d have a heart attack if she’d ever seen the company Abigale was keeping on a dreary Saturday night. The thought made her rebellious streak flare.
She took a sip of her drink. The bitter taste flowed down her throat, causing her to gag a little. She grimaced, trying to erase the awful taste from her memory.
She spotted Jules then. She was leaning on a wall as another guy leaned in close, his large hand right by Jules’ head. Abigale took another swig of the disgusting beer when she recognized who it was. Even though
the boy was facing away from her, she’d distinguish the stocky build and blond hair anywhere. Utter disappointment in Jules filled her gut, and Abigale questioned whether or not she should swoop in or let them be. She decided on the first choice, stomping up to Jules with a fierce expression.
“What are you doing with him, Julia?”
She stepped in between Donny and Jules, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder to steer her away. Jules slapped Abigale away, her eyes bloodshot and droopy. She stumbled forward, a clear liquid sloshing around in her cup. Realization hit Abigale as she stared between the cup and her friend. Jules was drunk.
“What’re you…doing here, Abby?” Jules slurred, putting her palm against her forehead. “My head kind of hurts.”
Abigale looked back at Donny for a moment, frowning. He seemed happy, like he enjoyed watching the girl who loved him wasted. Disgust filled her. She was three seconds away from slapping him across the face when someone retched on the floor near her. With a groan, she realized that it was Jules. She’d thrown up all over the floor, speckles of vomit painting Abigale’s dark shoes.
“I’m fine,” Jules said, wobbling on her feet. “Sorry ‘bout your shoes. I’ll get them dry-cleaned.” She giggled hysterically when Abigale raised an eyebrow.
Dry clean my shoes? Is she serious?
Jules squinted at Abigale, her grin disappearing. “I can’t believe Mike kissed you. When he told me—”
She vomited again, and Abigale took two steps back. “What do you mean? Who told you?”
“Huh?” Jules said, her legs wobbling under her weight. “M-Mike did. Who else do you think it w-was?”
So she wasn’t the one who sent the flash drive.
Before Abigale could question her further, Donny wrapped an arm around Jules to keep her from falling into her own vomit. “I’ve got her. Go enjoy the party,” he told Abigale.
She looked at him, alarm bells ringing. “Make sure she gets home safely?”
