by S. Massery
I shake my head. “Work until six.”
She nods, and her eyes skitter around the room like she’s seeing it for the first time. Hell, maybe she is. My gut clenches. Did I manage to redo my entire room without her noticing?
“Do you have a game tonight?” she asks me.
I swallow. “There’s one tomorrow.”
“Your father should be home…”
“It’s fine.” I force a smile. “Noah will be there.”
Margo’s eyes are bouncing back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match.
“I’ll try to make it,” she says. She knocks on the door—trying not to jinx it, maybe—and backs out of my room.
“Whoa,” Margo whispers. “Riley.”
I smooth the comforter. “She’s fine. We’re fine.”
“What team does she think you’re on, exactly?”
She won’t drop it. She’s stubborn like that.
I can’t meet her gaze when I say, “I was a cheerleader my sophomore year, and I think she forgot how that ended.”
She settles on my chair. “You never really said what happened.”
“A party gone wrong,” I mutter. “I thought it was Eli’s fault, so I iced him out. It was nicely timed… and then of course he rekindled things the following year.”
Understanding dawns on her face. “You two were a thing before he even kissed you at the mall.”
I nod sharply. “Yep. We pretended to be enemies… it was stupid. I’m the only one who ended up getting hurt.”
She scoffs. “I think he’s hurting plenty.”
“Because of what I did to him,” I respond. “But before that? I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who was secretly messing with me the entire time.”
Her jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah.” I kept it a secret because I was ashamed of myself. And… I had lied to Margo. Eli wasn’t a big, bad bully who forced his way past my guard. He already resided there. “I, um, knew that people wouldn’t take it well. When we actually started dating. We did it for the rush, because otherwise…”
I would probably look something like my mother at this point.
We both needed a distraction from our lives.
I rub my eyes. “Our public arguments, the banter. We both lived for it. He was sweet in private. Charming. He made me think he cared.”
“What happened?”
I can’t talk about it—not without breaking down. Puffy eyes from crying isn’t a good look on me, and it’s one I sported for too many years while Mom was sick.
I shrug and glance away. “He lied.”
We get ready for the party. It’s the recharge my body needed, because no one understands me quite like Margo. I watched what she went through and what she overcame. We synced immediately at the beginning of school last year, even though I’m a year younger.
The doorbell rings, and I automatically set down my eyeliner and move to answer it. It’s only when my fingertips graze the doorknob that my fear suddenly spikes.
There are two narrow panes of glass, one on either side of the door, and I peek through one. Part of me expects a boogeyman-like person. But instead, it’s just Parker.
I open the door and raise my eyebrows. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She shifts. “Um, Skylar said I should meet you here if I wanted to crash the dinner.”
I almost ask why she’d even want to go—it’s just a dinner for the cross-country team. The goal is to carb up before race day, and we have to be at the school at the crack of dawn to get to the meet for start time. Yet, I know in the back of my mind that Margo is going, which means Caleb, Liam, and Theo will be accompanying Eli.
I can use all the backup I can get.
I step back to let her in.
She holds up an envelope as she comes toward me. “This was on your car.”
“Oh.” I take it from her and flip it over. It has an “R” written on it, but that’s it.
Shoving it into my pocket, I lead her upstairs.
“Margo, this is Parker. Parker, Margo.”
Margo sets down the dress she had pulled from my closet. I recognize it as the black one from the masquerade ball last year. The mask is tied to the top of the hanger.
“Nice to finally meet you,” Margo says. She shakes Parker’s hand. “I’m glad Riley’s had someone to keep her company when I couldn’t be here.”
Parker smiles carefully. The underlying message is clear: She’s my friend.
I filled Parker in on everything that happened in the years since I last saw her, including my friendship with Margo. And likewise, Margo is familiar with Parker’s and Skylar’s names. She never really met Skylar last year, though.
We avoided each other.
And now we’re… friends?
Better than enemies, I guess.
But I didn’t expect Margo to seem like she wants to tuck me behind her.
She knows she’s always going to be my number one, right?
Maybe not.
I eye the black fabric now lying on the back of my chair. “Why were you looking at my old dress?”
The one that my mother nearly had a heart attack over when she saw the price. We aren’t exactly rich—although we sure do fake it well.
“I was thinking about prom,” she says. “And how last year—”
“I skipped it on purpose,” I mutter. “And I’m definitely not going this year.”
“What?” Parker almost shouts. “We have to go to prom. You can take Margo!”
Margo perks up. “Exactly. There are so many dances that will be fun now that you’re a senior. The masquerade ball, for one.”
“Well, I can’t wear that dress, and…” I force a smile. “I don’t really feel like dancing.”
“This is going to totally suck, then.” Margo grabs her bag and zips it all the way closed.
“What?”
“I had a present for you, but now you’re not getting it.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s cruel.”
She smiles.
Ugh. I grab for the bag, but she holds it out of my reach. I really hate surprises. I hate secrets—says the girl with an armful of them herself.
I sag, half turning away. Margo relaxes, and that’s when I lunge for her. She squeaks, but I get my fingers around the strap of the bag and tug it away from her.
“Am I going to hate what’s in here?” I ask, clutching it to my chest.
“Probably. Ignore my change of clothes. The white box is for you.”
Parker presses in closer. “Okay, now I’m curious.”
I pull out a slender box and toss the bag back to my bed. There is gold ribbon around the box holding it closed. Gently, I untie the bow. My muscles are clenched too hard.
I need to relax.
I lift the lid and gasp.
The mask is like butterfly wings. Brilliant gold and orange, black around the edges.
“A Monarch butterfly,” Margo says quietly. “Because no one should make you feel like you aren’t a queen.”
Tears burn my eyes. It’s the meaning more than anything that brings the lump back to my throat. God, am I going to really cry over a mask?
It’s not the mask, dummy. It’s the meaning.
“I don’t feel like a queen,” I say.
Margo presses her lips together and comes forward, wrapping me in a hug. “You will.”
In her ear, I whisper, “I can’t afford a dress.”
Her fingers grip my back, squeezing then softening.
It must be such a contrast from a year ago—the Riley who didn’t really give a fuck about the price of that black dress, because the experience was worth it. It was worth it for a while, and things had been good at home a year ago.
Mom was in remission; Dad was getting his footing in his office.
There was a lot of pressure coming at our family from a lot of different directions, and I don’t think he even minded. But then Noah had to be sent away, the bills started coming in, and Mom couldn�
��t leave her room. Suddenly we were drowning.
Noah.
I haven’t seen him in a while.
And no one knows his secret, either. It’s just another that I carry.
I retrieve my phone from my pocket, and the envelope Parker had given me earlier falls out.
Margo picks it up, raising her eyebrows, but I can’t focus on that right now.
I dial Noah’s number…
It goes straight to voicemail. It doesn’t ring more than once.
My stomach does that swooping sensation again, the same it did when I was in the fog on my run. The same feeling I keep getting when I’m outside.
“Are you okay?” Parker asks.
I set down the mask, still in its box, and frown. It’s after six, which means Noah should be home.
He always comes straight home.
It’s a ritual, it’s safety, it’s—
“Riley, breathe,” Margo orders.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can—
She slaps me. Not hard enough to hurt me, but the sting across my cheek whips my head to the side. I suck in a deep, shuddering breath.
“Oh my god.” Margo grabs my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure you were having a panic attack—are having a panic—your face was so pale. I don’t—”
“It’s okay.” I grip her hand. “I need to find my brother.”
Parker’s eyes widen. “Noah? But we’ll be late—”
“I don’t fucking care about a pasta dinner.” My voice comes out raspy and low.
I burst out into the hallway. His room is empty, the door open and bed messily made. At the opposite end of the hall, my parents’ bedroom door is closed, as usual. The guest room door is open, though. It usually is. I think Dad’s taken to sleeping there—he’s given up control of the master bedroom.
I don’t blame him.
Our annoyance with Mom runs deep. It’s more like extreme fatigue to her antics. We’ve dealt with it for too long, but there’s no way we can’t. I suppose we all have our solutions. I run. Dad works. Noah…
Noah does drugs.
Margo and Parker come out of my bedroom. They’re witnessing my body swaying back and forth, being blown by an invisible wind. The internal debate is trying to get an answer from my mother, whether it’s worth it.
I raise my phone to my ear, re-calling Noah, but it rings once and clicks, his choppy, almost robotic voice telling me he’s not there. To leave a message, or not.
I don’t.
“Can you come here?” Margo says quietly.
She’s on her phone, too.
No.
No, no, no.
“Margo, hang up.”
She glares at me. “You said you need to find him, right? More bodies means more area can be covered faster.”
I wince. “Fine.”
She hangs up and takes my hand. “It’ll be okay.”
I don’t think it will be.
And if he is hiding out in a drug den? Or if we find him high?
What’s the choice? His rehabilitation or the rest of my college fund?
Even a scholarship wouldn’t cover everything I need.
They lead me downstairs. I almost expect Noah to be there, but he’s not.
I tug at the ripped black jeans and black tank top I put on earlier. I was going for a dark and edgy look, but now I just feel a bit hopeless. Parker tosses an Emery-Rose Elite sweatshirt at me. It’s black with the silver emblem across it, and I slide it on gratefully, the warmth circling me.
Late September evenings and nights are getting colder.
We don’t have to wait long before headlights swing into my driveway, and my breath immediately catches. A second later, another car pulls in, and another stops at the curb. Eli’s truck. My heart skips, and I hate it.
I hate the way he makes me feel—that I can feel at all through the panic.
And that panic attack seems to be lingering, waiting to spring out and suffocate me again. It mixes with adrenaline.
“He brought all of them,” I accuse.
I call Noah again, and this time, I leave a message.
“Call me back,” I snap, then end the call.
Margo opens the door, and I keep my face blank as Caleb strides inside. He’s followed by Liam and Theo, then Jake… and Eli.
I move away. I need water.
Someone screams.
I race to the stairs, where Parker stands. She holds the envelope.
“I’m sorry, Riley,” she says. “I thought maybe it was from Noah, and you kept ignoring it…”
She holds out the contents for me: a small USB drive, flatter than ones I’ve seen before, and a photograph.
I reach through the railing for the items. The photo is perfectly timed: Noah’s fist arcing through the air toward Eli’s face. I flip it over and shudder. The handwriting is definitely male, sharp and jagged. They wrote in red ink, and the question mark is smeared a little.
Who’s next?
Noah told me Eli visited him at work. It was how Noah knew Eli was back in town—and what had Noah said? That Eli provoked him, and he handled it.
This is not handling it.
And now Eli wants to blackmail me.
I put the USB in my pocket and stalk toward Eli. His eyes widen, but he doesn’t retreat. He’s been hovering by the door this whole time, staying in the background.
How unlike him.
I shove the photograph at him. “Happy?”
He takes it and squints, then flips it over. Reads the note. “Um…”
I push at his chest. “I don’t know why you’re even here!”
He lets me batter him, withstanding my storm, and it just makes me angrier. “What did you do to him?” I yell. “Where is he? This stupid fucking blackmail—”
He grabs my wrists and spins me around, slamming me against the door. The room is completely silent.
“Stop. Hitting. Me.”
I spit at him.
Immediately, horror takes over. I’ve never been angry enough to want to strangle someone, but I felt it. And now it goes out, a drain being unplugged. Worse, a balloon popping. Bang, empty.
Blown apart.
He wipes at his cheek.
It wasn’t a glob of spit. More like a spray. But even still.
“I—”
“Save it,” he says softly. “Did it help?”
Did it?
I suck in a deep breath. “Yeah.”
He nods once and releases me. “I didn’t do this, and I don’t know where your brother is.”
The strange part is… I believe him.
19
Riley
Fourteen Months Ago
I climb into the car before Dad can stop me.
He eyes me, lips pursing for a second. In the end, he doesn’t say anything. He reverses out of the driveway and hands me his phone.
“Use that Find Friends app first,” Dad says.
I squash down the fear. Noah was gone all night, all morning, and now it’s evening again. The afternoon flew by while my parents called the whole soccer team Noah used to run with. Some moved away for college, but a few are still around.
They didn’t have anything substantial to say.
A few more didn’t answer.
“Nothing,” I report. There’s me, a tiny blue dot on the map. It updates periodically, moving down the road. Dad’s dot is almost on top of mine. “Where are we going?”
He grunts. “You should’ve stayed with your mother.”
I set down his phone and cross my arms. “And let you handle this alone? Not a chance.”
“I knew you’d say that, daughter of mine.” He spares me one tight-lipped smile before returning his attention to the road. “There are some places in Stone Ridge that… he might be.”
My stomach flip-flops.
My brother has been… erratic. It’s the only way to describe his behavior. We got a call from his school a few weeks ago, and
they said he wasn’t welcome back. So we dealt with it. Went up and loaded the car with his things, apologized, and left.
Noah didn’t go with us. He was supposed to, but an hour before we were set to leave, he disappeared.
My junior year is starting soon, but I don’t think Mom or Dad even realize how close we are to summer being over.
I shiver and run through the list of… behaviors.
Dear god, I almost called them symptoms.
Erratic.
Angry.
Fidgety.
I’ve caught him in a lie a few times.
And his friend…
“Kaiden might know where he is,” I suggest.
“I called him. No answer.” Dad turns onto the two-lane highway, the fastest way to Stone Ridge.
“Maybe he’ll answer mine.” I hit his number and hold my breath. It rings twice.
“Little Appleton,” Kaiden answers.
“Hey.” I clear my throat. “Um, do you happen to know where my brother is?”
He sighs. “Nope. We were at a party up in the state forest last night.”
“You were partying in the woods?” I narrow my eyes and put it on speakerphone. “Did you leave with him? Or see if he even left?”
“He left.” Kaiden pauses. “I think he was with a girl. Maybe he shacked up with her?”
I wince. “Lovely. You’re a big help.”
“Wait,” he says.
It’s like he could sense that I was about to hang up on him.
“His phone is probably dead. The girl lives in Stone Ridge.”
Dad grimaces.
I can imagine the type of girls he’s been hanging out with—either they’re his age, lowlifes stuck in one spot forever without a future, or younger.
And I seriously pray he hasn’t been partying with high school girls.
“Text me the address,” I tell him.
I hang up and look at Dad. “You were right.”
“I didn’t want to be right, honey. But he’s been going through a lot since we moved here. He fell into the wrong crowd, and we just didn’t have enough time to deal with it. I thought he might make better choices…”
My phone beeps, and I set the GPS. Fifteen minutes later, we’re parked outside a run-down house. It’s set so close to two other homes, if it felt the need to lean on one, it wouldn’t have far to go. There must be only a few feet between them—enough for some brown grass and broken glass.
