The Longest Night

Home > Other > The Longest Night > Page 3
The Longest Night Page 3

by Lindsey Pogue


  “Oh, that’s right. Bailey’s there, visiting her grandma.” Katie tilted her head with understanding. “I can see why you’d be so worried. I’m sure she’s fine. Her parents will keep her safe.”

  I forced another smile as I clipped my bag closed. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”

  Katie smiled encouragingly and rubbed my shoulder. “Maybe you can give her a call during lunch and see how she’s doing. She could probably use a friend.” Katie headed back toward the front of the class.

  I tried to steady a deep inhale as I praised myself on the quickest save ever. If Katie looked too closely, she’d know I was lying. That’s what happened when your teacher was your neighbor, your friends were your building mates, and everyone knew your parents.

  My half-ass plan to buy a pregnancy test at lunch would not go unnoticed either. I scanned the hallway and first-floor layout in my memory, mapping out the building to estimate how long it would take me to get from the store to the restroom, then maybe to Jesse’s to tell him off, and back again—all before lunch break ended. Jesse might’ve been sick with a cold, but he wasn’t dying. He could at least text me back.

  But who was I kidding? There was no way I could buy a test without anyone knowing, not unless I was going to steal it, and getting caught . . . That was an entirely new problem I hadn’t considered.

  I combed my fingers through my hair. The tension in my shoulders was so tight, I was surprised I could move my neck. Pulling my bag over my shoulder, I glanced at Katie. “I’m going to grab lunch and call Bailey. I’ll be back in thirty or so.”

  Katie waved me away, mid-gulp from her thermos, and I headed out the door without looking back. The clomp of my Ugg boots echoed in the hallway between school and the apartment complex.

  The air in the hallway was suddenly too warm and thick as I walked toward the main floor. I fanned my face, praying it was a wave of anxiety and not a heat flash or some other unwanted symptom.

  Or maybe the blaze of hell is inching closer to me with each step. That’s where my mom would condemn me, and not because she was religious, just really strict and severe when she wanted to be. I had to swallow down the impending wave of nausea that bubbled up with every step.

  Would she make me get rid of the baby? The thought suddenly dawned on me. Did I want to get rid of it? I was in the exact situation my mom told me never to get myself into. It was one of two things she’d always lectured me about—my posture and pregnancy at the age of eighteen. This wasn’t something she could lecture away with a severely disappointed finger wag though. In fact, she would probably kill me when she found out, and she of all people could get away with it too. As the mayor, she knew the coroner and was close with the doctor. She had the police in her pocket, and she could bury my body out in the snow. No one would be any the wiser.

  But hysterical thoughts aside, another scandal after my dad’s infidelity would ruin her, and it wasn’t her career I was concerned about. Mentally and emotionally, she would be wrecked.

  Biting my lip, I followed the signs to the mercantile area, though I didn’t need them to know where I was going. I was going to have to buy a pregnancy test from the market, and I prayed for Carlyle or Henry to be behind the counter when I got there; they’d be so incredibly awkward they would pretend they didn’t see the pink and white box entirely—unlike Evelyn or Jonesy.

  Murmurs met my ears as I came to the split in the hallway; straight ahead for the managerial offices, the market, and video store; left for the indoor pool with cracked tiling and the fitness room with dangerously old equipment.

  I continued straight; toward Mr. Han, one of the yacht captains; my classmate Sarah Michaels, who I’d only just realized wasn’t in class today; her mom; and crap—Henry. I needed him to be working at the market, and there he was standing alongside the others—each of them with masks over their faces—outside Dr. Harwick’s clinic. It was a clinic large enough for only one hospital bed and an examination table, and given the number of residents in the building, a waiting area hadn’t really been necessary, until now, at least.

  A shiver ran down my spine when I saw the red in Sarah’s eyes. Suddenly, I grew more worried about Bailey, and then for Jesse. The news covered the flu outbreak, and we knew it was really bad in some areas, but this was Alaska, there was nothing here. There were cities and towns, but they were few and far between, and hundreds—in some cases thousands—of miles of snow stretched out in between.

  But I knew better than that. Viruses didn’t care about the cold. They thrived in live, warm bodies, and there were plenty of them coming in and out of Alaska every day.

  “Are you okay, Sarah?” I asked, nearly breathless.

  Sarah’s eyes met mine with a slow blink. “I—”

  “She just needs the flu shot,” her mother said quickly. “She gets sick every year. This is nothing new.” Though Mrs. Michaels’ voice was flippant, I hadn’t seen Sarah sick before, at least not like this. She was in her wrinkled pajamas, and her skin was almost green. Her wavy brown hair was nappy around her face, and her eyes—I couldn’t stop staring at them.

  “Carol,” Dr. Harwick called from inside the clinic, and Mrs. Michaels tugged on Sarah’s hand as she strode inside. I wasn’t sure if Jesse was that sick, but if he felt as bad as Sarah looked, I almost felt bad for being annoyed with him.

  Then my stomach churned and I remembered the severity of the problem at hand. I could only pray I was sick at this point. But even though I felt like crap, it wasn’t like any flu I’d ever had before. I could feel something inside of me changing. Was that what a mother’s intuition felt like? Was pregnancy something I could feel in my bones—a warmth just beneath the surface of my skin, pushing the blood through my veins with more ferocity than anything I’d ever felt before, like it was preparing for something?

  Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I decided to call Bailey and continued down the hallway toward the market. I passed the elevators and hurried by the managerial offices, specifically my mom’s door—grateful it was closed, then I dialed my best friend. I needed to make sure she was okay.

  “Please pick up. Please pick up . . .” But I had no idea what time it was in Connecticut or if she was at the hospital with her grandma. When she didn’t answer, I whimpered and shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.

  Swallowing thickly, I stopped outside the market, just shy of the window. Since Henry was at the clinic, Carlyle was my only saving grace, and I willed him to be behind the checkout counter. But when I leaned forward, I was instantly more depressed.

  Evelyn was working the counter, eyes wide and worried as she talked to my mom at the register. Sucking in a breath, I turned to run back down the hall before my mom could see me and collided with a warm, firm body that smelled shower-fresh.

  “Shit,” I hissed, stumbling backward.

  Alex reached out to grab my arm and steady me. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I spat, and tucked my hair behind my ears. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting lunch,” he said wryly. “What about you? Did you change your mind?”

  I glowered at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You were about to go in.” He nodded to the store.

  Crap. “Yes.” And my mom was still inside. I hurried down an offshoot of the hallway, toward the maintenance room and the public bathrooms.

  “Hey—are you okay?” Alex’s footsteps were heavy and right behind me.

  “Yes, just—leave me alone, okay?” I wasn’t sure exactly where my legs were taking me, just that it needed to be somewhere my mom couldn’t see the guilt on my face. I could never lie to her. She would know the moment I did, and I wasn’t ready to talk to her about it.

  Alex followed me to the maintenance closet and stopped outside the open door.

  “What are you doing?” I bit out, prepared to pull the door shut.

  “What are you doing?” He stood in the doorway for everyone to see.

  I glan
ced down the hall, worried my mom would see, and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.

  Turning around, I stumbled into a mop bucket, sending it clanging onto its side. The closet was small and the space between Alex and I was . . . tight, which I hadn’t thought through.

  I flicked on the light.

  Alex’s smile spread the width of his face, and I hated to admit I liked it—especially seeing he was clearly entertained by all of this. “Do you always hide in the broom closet?”

  “Of course not.”

  He took a deep breath, his dark features more like ebony in the sharp shadows cast by the swinging light.

  “Why did you follow me? Now you’ve made it weird,” I told him, and turned to crack the door open.

  “I’m making it weird? You just pulled me into a dark room and locked us inside.”

  I didn’t justify his question with an answer as I peered down the hall, watching my mom cross the corridor. She had her cellphone to her ear and about a dozen water bottles in her arms, which I thought was strange, then she disappeared from view. I didn’t care what she was doing, as long as she was gone.

  As my heart slid from my throat down into my chest, and settled back into a less frenzied pace, I stepped out into the hallway.

  Alex walked out behind me.

  I glanced at him, though he said nothing. He didn’t have to. I knew he was waiting for an explanation, but I hurried back down the hallway. I could feel his expectant stare boring into the back of my skull as his footsteps followed.

  I whipped around. “What, Alex?”

  His eyebrow rose, and he tilted his head with a shrug. “I’m going to the market,” he drawled. “To get food, for lunch . . .” He said it like he had to remind me, like I didn’t know the minutes were counting down. I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do before I ran out of time. “Yeah, me too,” I said quickly.

  With a huff, I turned on my heel, too distressed about my predicament to worry about him. But the instant I got to the market, I froze in the doorway. I still didn’t have a plan.

  Alex stepped inside, the chime dinging, and Evelyn looked up from her crossword, eyeing him closely. She liked gossip, which meant she was more intrigued than most to see a new face.

  I took a step backward out of Evelyn’s view. She was one of my mom’s close friends. There was no way I could do this with her here. I would wait; I had no other choice. I would make Jesse take me to the store when he was feeling better, or I would wait for Henry’s shift— whenever that was. I didn’t have to know at this very moment, it wouldn’t change anything.

  My heartbeat thudded harder, my chest heaving up and down as I glanced from the doorway to the pregnancy tests I could see in the far aisle from where I stood. It was so close; I could walk in and take one and hope for the best, if I only had the courage to do it.

  “Are you on meds or something?”

  “What?” My eyes darted to Alex as he stepped out of the store; a paper bag and a Pepsi in his hand.

  “Or do you need money?” He lifted an incredulous shoulder. “You know, to buy the lunch you said you were getting.” His eyes narrowed on me, like I was crazy—I was crazy, for today at least. “But you were lying about that, weren’t you,” he realized.

  I swallowed. “Yes, I was lying. What’s it matter to you?”

  Alex shrugged again and made a move to walk past me.

  “Wait, Alex—” I licked my lips, unable to look him in the eye and feeling sicker by the minute. “Sorry. I’m having a really, really bad day. Now’s not exactly a good time to get to know each other.” I gripped my bag strap tighter.

  “What do you mean, this isn’t the time?” he said, and when I looked at him, his mouth curved into a smile. “We just spent half of our lunch break in the broom closet together. I’d say we know each other well enough.” His eyebrows danced, and my chest rose with a quick laugh.

  I couldn’t help but smile in return. I appreciated the joke, even if it was ridiculous.

  Satisfied, Alex nodded and continued past me. He had an easy stride about him, which I found almost as fascinating as his smile. How was it he was so calm and confident? I envied him in that moment and my smile quickly faded.

  My gaze landed on a stack of off-brand pregnancy tests directly beside a few boxes of Trojan condoms, at the end of the farthest of the store’s five aisles. Oh, the irony.

  I did a double take as Alex stepped up beside me. His brow crinkled with concern. “Are you okay? Seriously.” He didn’t hedge and his voice didn’t waver. It was thick and low with concern.

  I tried to smile for both of our sakes, but I couldn’t force it. My mom had brushed off my being sick like I was making the whole thing up, and while I might’ve stretched the truth a little, I was definitely not fine, and she didn’t even care. Yet Alex, a complete stranger a few hours ago, was looking at me like he actually, truly cared what my answer would be, and I nearly lost it.

  “No,” I admitted. “Not really. I’m freaking out.” I inhaled a deep breath, trying to hold it together a little longer. Then I exhaled and cleared my throat. “But I’ll survive.” I glanced into the store a final time.

  “Oh,” he said, staring in the same direction. “I see . . .”

  A swirl of heat traveled through my chest and up my neck to my cheeks. I was somewhere between cherry and sunburn red; I could feel shame emanating through the skin on my face. “Yeah, like I said, you can’t help me.”

  “You don’t want the cashier to know?”

  “Ha. No. Evelyn is one of the chattiest old women in this place. I might as well put a scarlet P on my stomach now so that everyone knows.”

  Alex handed me his Pepsi and the paper bag in his hand. “Take this.”

  I did so automatically, then he turned for the store. “Wait—Alex—” I reached for his arm, but it was too late. He walked back into the market without hesitation, beelining for the pharmacy aisle.

  4

  Sophie

  December 7

  Frantic, I glanced around to make sure no one was watching and retreated a few more steps back into the corridor that led to the broom closet.

  Evelyn hadn’t seen me. She won’t know it’s for me. There was no way she could.

  I pulled out my phone to make it look as though I was waiting for someone without a care in the world. But inside, my heart was a battering ram, and I thought I might hyperventilate if Alex didn’t return soon.

  I waited like that, scrolling through Facebook posts on my phone, not registering any of them as the minutes ticked by. My face grew hotter and my heart raced in my ears more loudly with every passing minute. It felt like an eternity before Alex finally appeared in the mouth of the hallway. He continued past me, toward the elevator, with another brown paper bag in his hand.

  I glanced at the market to make sure no one was watching and walked as casually as I could behind him, peering down at the blank screen on my phone shaking in my hands. When we were both inside the elevator, just the two of us, he hit the button for the eighth floor. The instant the door closed, he handed me the bag and took his lunch and Pepsi back.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” I hissed, adrenaline zipping through me. My heart had never raced so fast—never felt like it was going to pop out of my chest like aliens did in the movies.

  “You’re welcome,” he grumbled, and took a long pull from his soda bottle. It was like it was whiskey to a drunk. He was nervous too—or maybe embarrassed.

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” I said, still shocked that he had, and his unexpected kindness brought the threat of more tears to my eyes.

  “I didn’t? You were hyperventilating in the hallway, so I think I did. Besides,” he said with a shrug, and I wondered if he wasn’t as calm as his exterior let on, “everyone already knows I’m a screwup, they probably think I already got a girl pregnant.”

  I snorted. “You’ve barely been here a few days, that seems like a stretch.”


  Alex shrugged. “Trust me, no one will be surprised if Mrs. Chatterbox decides to say something.”

  “But,” I shook my head, “You don’t even know me.”

  “Yeah, well, I did it anyway. Now you’re just making it weird,” he said, staring at the door. I eyed him in the metal reflection, while he watched the numbers on the screen ticking higher. His thoughtful silence was strangely unwanted.

  “I’m not a slut,” I blurted, feeling the need to explain. “Jesse and I—he’s been my boyfriend for almost a year. I just—we screwed up.”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he said holding up his palm.

  But I felt like I did. “It’s just—”

  “Seriously.” It was more of a plea than a courtesy. “I really don’t want to know.”

  I nodded, dazed as I licked my lips, and turned to face my reflection in the elevator door again. I knew nothing about Alex other than he was taller than me, maybe even six-feet tall, with broad shoulders and a charismatic smile. More than anything, I knew that Alex was compassionate, even if he was a troublemaker or whatever he’d been labeled in his life before he came to Whitely. And I’d never appreciated a stranger more.

  “I just hope he’s not a douchebag,” he said in a low voice. “For your sake.”

  I blinked at him.

  The doors dinged open as we arrived on the eighth floor, and Alex stepped out without another word or look in my direction.

  “Where are you going?” I asked. I glanced down the hall toward Jesse’s apartment.

  He held up his lunch bag. “I’ve gotta heat my burrito up somehow.”

  I’d forgotten all about Jimmy and that he lived on the same floor.

  Without thought, I stepped out of the elevator and reached for Alex’s arm as he turned to leave. My grip was more desperate than I’d meant, and the moment he turned around, staring at my hand on his bicep, I took a spacious step back, though I could still see the luminescent golden honey in Alex’s eyes from the overhead lights.

 

‹ Prev