"Seems like your pain reliever has been reliving some pains," he adds, still backing me. Whatever he seems to be doing over that shelf seems to be important, which means it might as well be dangerous.
"That's not what Zack is," I reply and fling the bra away. I can't believe I'm talking to him. I can't even believe I'm in the same room as him, alone.
"Hmmm." His voice comes out thick, like a grown man. "Do you know what happened to this picture?" He turns around, showing me the picture of Zack's mom in her twenties, carrying a baby whose face has been torn out. You can tell it's a loving picture by the way Cassandra, Zack's mother is smiling so widely, which gets me curious 'cause the picture seems like it hasn't been long since it was destroyed because the torn line is freshly white.
"No," I shake my head slightly. Then I get back to my senses. "What are you doing here anyways?" My voice comes out a bit grumpy.
He brings down the picture and turns back to the shelf. I see his hand tucking something in the pocket of his front faded gray jeans. "Treasure hunting. What else?" He says and turns to face me again, then he smiles. The way his smile appears pure and cute makes me think he's a sociopath.
I keep quiet for a second, trying to inspect him. He's a murderer after all, you don't expect me to trust him. "In his room?" I say as I look at him with squinted eyes.
"What? He didn't say his room was an exception." He looks into my eyes too deeply which scares the hell out of me. This has been the longest conversation we've both had in the past five years, and it's not going well, not that I was expecting it would.
"Well, now I'm saying it. Get out." All of a sudden I feel rage.
His cheek twitches, like an attempted smile. "You scared of me?" He asks as he takes a step closer to me. His voice is small. "Mmmm?" He mumbles.
"Should I be?" I take another step closer. Looking at him fearlessly in the eye.
He smirks. "I bet you can't look into my eyes for ten seconds," he says like it's a challenge, a challenge I don't want to lose. I take another step closer, staring into those blue eyes of his so deeply that I can see my reflection in it like a clean mirror.
1…2…3…4…5…I keep counting in my head, but I get distracted as I recall the number of times I looked into his eyes this deep. The first is when I was five, and we had just moved into the house. Charity and I were playing with a baseball when it got thrown off across the street. I ran to get it, and there he stood, handing it over to me. I can still remember how wide he smiled, showing his pulled front teeth. But yet, I thought he was still cute. And the last was when he murdered Mikaela. His face was dripping with blood. His blue shirt has been stained with it. And I remember his tight grip on the spike knife. I pull back, and I feel the tears rolling down my cheek. I bring my face down and sadly accept my defeat. "On second thought, you can stay. I'll leave." My face is down as I speak to him. After I'm done, I march out. As soon as I'm out of the room, I make sure the door is closed before I can wipe the bitter tears off my face. While sniffing out bad memories, I overheard some low gigglings. I raise my head and see Zack and Alisyn smiling together down the hallway. Alisyn's hands are over Zack's shoulders, while Zack's hands are in his pocket. I feel something burning in me. I recognize that feeling, it's the same feeling I felt whenever I see Mikaela and Jeremy together. Argh! I swear, it hurts. I take the left staircase, so they won't see me. I walk straight to the bar. "Three shots of tequila please," I say as I sit in front of the bar counter.
"Finally, there's someone who isn't so interested in finding some treasure," he says as he pulls off a bottle of tequila from the back bar, then walks over to the counter and picks up three shot glasses below the counter. He opens the bottle and fills the first one. I Swill it.
"Again," I tell him, stretching out the glass.
"O…Kay." He pours another, and I gulp at once.
"Again." I stretch the glass to him.
"You okay?" He asks.
"I'm fine. Again." I knock the glass on the counter. I feel his eyes on me for a few seconds before he pours another into the glass.
"A–"
"That's enough," he cuts me off.
"Again!" I yell and break out the tears I've been holding in.
"Arianna?" He brings his face closer to mine, but I look away. "Arianna, are you…are you crying?" He asks.
"No. I just got something in my eyes," I say, wiping the under of my eyes. "Just pour me another glass, please." Look at me, I've got balls. Trying to get home drunk when coming to the party in the first place was a miracle. If Mr. Langford finds me drunk, God…I'm dead meat.
"I'm sorry, but I can't," he says.
"Isn't that your job?" Someone says. That's obviously Jeremy's voice. He takes the seat by my right.
"Excuse me?" Matthew says, his palms placed on the counter. What's he doing? Following me around?
"I was told you got paid handsomely to serve everyone." He rests his hands on the counter and locks his fingers together. "I'm beginning to think you don't deserve the five thousand dollars considering your poor services." Wow, does everyone know about the money? "Or maybe you do other services apart from bartending?" Jeremy adds. I see Matthew's eyes grow wide, and his forehead is beginning to farrow.
Matthew licks his bottom lips. "I swear, one more word from you, and I promise you a fallen tooth." Things seem to be getting tense. Matthew is the only person I know who hates Jeremy more than I do.
Jeremy smirks and cracks his locked fingers together. "Does she know about your side hustles?" Jeremy jerks his hand at me.
Matthew's fingers curve into his palm, and his knuckles tighten. Yes, I'm a little interested…No, I'm very interested to know what's going on here, but I'm also scared that this won't end well for the both of them.
"I'm warning you," Matthew growls.
"Fine," Jeremy raises his hands. "I won't tell her what you've been up to lately." Jeremy looks at me. "Besides, it's just a matter of time before everyone finds out that you're…"
"JEREMY!" Matthew drags him by the shirt. I can not only see his rage, I can hear it. But his anger does not disguise his fear. "Don't push it," Matthew warns Jeremy, who is not moved by fear. Alisyn and Zack find us.
"What's going on here?" Zack asks.
"Matthew," Alisyn mutters.
"The only reason why you still have your complete fingers on me right now is because I'm on probation. Try this in the next 3 months, you won't have hands," Jeremy threatens. Matthew stares at him for a few seconds then lets go of his shirt. We maintain decorum. Just to calm down the tension of what just happened.
"How about we play a quick game," Zack says, and we all look at him like he has gone nuts. A game? At a time like this? Why can't he just be serious for one second? It's not every time you get lucky playing with sharp objects.
"Jeremy?" Zack utters, and Jeremy looks at him.
"Truth or Dare?" Zack asks. I scoff. What? Seriously.
"Truth," Jeremy replies after a few seconds of silence. I'm quite surprised Jeremy is going with it.
"Do you regret killing Mikaela?" Zack asks.
I exhale. Every one of us is staring at Jeremy like a museum, waiting for his reply.
He takes a deep breath. "No…" he says. My lashes flutter, and I hear Matthew scoff. How can he say that? How can he be so cruel? It's like I never knew him. I watch him pour himself a shot of tequila.
"Truth or Dare?" I ask him. It's a game, and I get to play. He puts down the shot he was about to drink and looks at me curiously.
"Truth," he replies. Luckily for me, that's exactly what I want him to pick.
"Why did you do it? Why did you kill her?" My voice is small. This is the second time I've seen him with a sullen face.
He looks away, then picks up his drink and sips from it."I think I'll do Dare," he says.
Okay, Okay. I suck my teeth. "I dare you to tell me the truth. Why did you kill Mikaela?" I ask. He lets out a breath and stays quiet, looking like he has run out of options.
"Game over," he says and walks away. Damn! It's like I'm gnawing in anguish.
"That was quick," Alisyn says and walks
away.
"Found it!" Someone yells in the crowd, and everyone gathers around him.
"That's impossible," Zack mutters as he walks to them.
"A, It's not…"
"It's fine. You don't have to tell me anything," I cut Matthew off and walk away. I spend the rest of the evening seated on the porch, while other teenagers whoops and dance in merriments. Little by little, people who have strict parents like mine start to leave. I sit still, waiting for Charity. I turn on my phone and glance at the time, it's only a few minutes past ten. Mr Langford might have not given us a specific time, but when he said we shouldn't stay out too late, he means he wants to see that we are back before eleven. Some seconds later, Charity finally comes out, looking all happy. I'm the one who is supposed to be happy. I'm his best friend, not Charity, or any of the invited teens.
Charity drives us back home, gushing all about the party like I wasn't there. "You could have seen his face when Zack told him that wasn't the treasure. I mean, who would consider a bucket as a treasure? Stupid right?"
"mmhmm," I mutter.
When we get home, Charity parks her car at the curb, and I see Jeremy's bike that's parked in front of his house from inside the car. I guess he left the party early. We get inside, but everywhere is quiet, like nobody's at home or like both my parents are asleep. But that's impossible, Mr. Lanford would never shut his eyes knowing his daughters aren't home yet.
"God, I'm so tired, " Charity says wearily with one palm placed on her forehead, traipsing up the stairs, and I follow behind her, step after step. How Can she not be tired? After whooping, shouting, dancing, and sassing, of course, she is tired. "I'm off to bed." She bursts into her room and shuts the door, and I hear her bounce on her bed. I proceed to mine, but then I take a pause. I need to make sure my parents are still alive. I turn around and go to their room. I place my ears on the door to make sure I don't burst in on them while arguing or doing stuff. Ok. No sound. I twist the knob open and look inside the room. I smile as I see my mom sound asleep with a blanket covering her up to her chest. I gently close the door. Now where is that strict dude? I decide to look for him at the only place I know he could be. His study. Before I get close enough to the door, I see that it's open. I stand beside the door and watch him go through some bunch of files held in his hands. It relieves me to see him in glasses. He looks less dangerous. As I decide to step out, "Future," he calls me by my middle name, which only proves he's chilled out, and that's the reason I hate the name so fucking much. It's like a sign that I don't have to be scared of my so-called father. I turn around and find him still glancing through the files. "Come in," he says and raises his scalding tea from the desk and sips from it. I guess the middle name signal isn't working that much, cause my heart rate just increased. I reluctantly walk inside, making sure I'm not too close to him.
"How was the party?" He asks as he flips a file under another.
"It was…fun," ish. It would have been a fun time if Jeremy wasn't there. I see Mr. Langford's lips spread. Oh my God, did he just smile?
What is going on? Is the world about to end?
"Isn't that on your not-to-do list ?" He asks.
I don't have a not-to-do list, but if I had, I'm sure that would be number one. "Maybe, but it was Zack's birthday party, so I had to."
He finally looks up at me. And for the first time in a long time, I am not scared. "I hope this doesn't turn out to be part of the things you regret," he says.
"What things?" I ask curiously.
"Having best friends," he says.
No. Mr. Langford has never for once felt guilty about my childhood experience. Instead, he blamed me, and that was why he decided to punish me in the most painful way. Just after Mikaela's death, he had locked me inside my room for two days and only opened it when Mom begged to feed me. It wasn't as painful as it should be, because I needed time to understand what had happened with Mikeala. It gave me enough time to think about death, at age eleven. It gave me enough time to be depressed. I don't blame Mr Langford for anything, If only I had listened to him when he asked me to go home. But no, I insisted on staying, I insisted on fighting Mikaela just because of a book. I remember running back inside the house. I can still hear how he yelled at me not to go back inside, it was like he knew something bad was going to happen, or like he knew something bad was happening.
"Good night sir." That is all I can say. I find my way to my room and fall on my bed, too lazy to change my dress or take a bath. There, I'm tinted in the dark. Sound asleep.
I can't get enough of the buzzing sound around my ears, it's like that of a mosquito, and even after covering my head with a pillow, it keeps going. Argh! I finally open my eyes to darkness, or almost. Thank God my phone screen is turned on. I stretch my hand to it on the bed, but just as I get a hold of it, the screen turns off, as it has been on for quite some time. I put it back on. Surprised to see, 2…no, wait…I look closer, 20 missed calls from Zack and 3 texts. What the… Knowing that it's only five minutes past twelve and that he's been calling me nonstop for 20 minutes makes me start to freak out. Around 11:30 to 11:50 p.m. was the time of the first one. However, why did he decide it was necessary to leave me with 20 missed calls and why did he call me at such a late hour. I tap on the texts.
The first one reads: Can you please pick up my calls?
This one was sent at 11:43 p.m.
The second reads: please! I need to talk to you.
This was sent at 11:46 p.m.
And it scares me. I can tell how badly he wants to speak to me.
But the Other texts are not as troubling as the third one:
Come on, come on Arianna. I need you here right now. It's freaking urgent. And this was sent five minutes ago. I don't think twice before bouncing out of my bed and scampering out of my room. But…I pause. It's late, and Zack's house is a 40-minute walk, and hell, I can't do that in the middle of the night. But he needs me, I have to go. I decide to take Charity's car key by sneaking into her room. It's not that much of a stress seeing that the key is lying on the floor next to her bed. As I creep out of her room, "Greeee!" I startle, and slowly turn around and see my dear sister snoring like a pig. I roll my eyes. And instead of creeping, I sashay out of her room, but I don't forget to lock the door gently behind me. I make sure to be careful, so Mr. Langford doesn't find me creeping out of the house in the middle of the night. When I finally come out, I take a reliving breath, then proceed to Charity's car. I'm not a good driver, that's why I know I'd be arriving at Zack's house in 30 minutes.
Fortunately, Mr. Langford bought his daughter a BMW X6 that doesn't make a loud noise when I turn the key. I maintain a steady speed while I'm driving. It's cold outside, so I wind up, not just because of the cold, but also because everywhere is creepy, dark, and scary, not to mention the Freeman's Lane. It feels like there are monsters behind the trees. Finally, I reach the front gate, but it's open. My body shivers as I drive in. Then I hear a vrooming sound, like that of a motorcycle. It keeps increasing like it's coming for me. Just as I park in the driveway, a golden light blasters at me through the closed window. I hold up my hand to protect myself from it. Its light keeps coming forward with an intense sound, but suddenly it turns off. I put down my hand and see someone on a motorcycle that is parked two meters from me. I wait for the person to take off the helmet. Lo and behold, it's the most famous murderer. Jeremy? I lower my head to get a proper view. He lowers his head, looking into the car.
What is he doing here by this time of the night? I speed out of the car. I March to him as he does to me.
"What are…"
"What are you doing here," He cuts me short.
I can't see his face clearly, but I can tell he is freaked out. "What? I should be asking you that."
"No. No, you shouldn't be here," he says as he takes me by my arm, dragging me to the car.
"Stop! Let go." I haul my hand from his grip. "What's with you?" I ask frantically.
He rakes his fingers through his hair. I don't think I have ever seen Jeremy like this. Scared.
"Jeremy?" I take a step closer to him, but I break loose the moment I hear the loudest scream of my life. We both look at the direction it came from. Inside the house. My heart sinks, and I scamper inside the house. It is dark, quiet, and scary. I hear Jeremy step in behind me. I quickly turn on my phone flashlight. My heart sinks again as I see a shapely figure ahead of me. Before I realize that it's Alisyn, I move in closer by two steps. She is still, like a sculpture that has been carefully crafted. Thankfully, Jeremy turns on the lights, making everything brighter, but that only serves to highlight how filthy and worn out the house is.
"Alisyn," I place a hand on her shoulder, and I hear her sobbing. I turn to face her. Tears are pouring out of her eyes.
She sobs, and sobs."Is he dead?" She asks with a small voice, looking past me. I can't believe the word 'dead' can still shake me. I feel my body vibrate. I slowly turn around. For a second I try hard to understand what's going on. What the hell am I seeing? Someone is lying flat on the floor, his eyes are open, and red fluid is flowing around his face. Before him is Matthew, staring at me with wide eyes.
What's going on? The question keeps popping up in my brain. What's going on? That's the little question my brain still can not catch. He has coffee eyes, his hair is dark and now wet with red fluid. Oh, wait. That's blood. I force my legs to move. One step, then another. He's wearing a gray T-shirt with which blood has begun to stain. The wrist…My heart raises. The Wristwatch is exactly the one Zack was wearing during his birthday party. Wait…he's not breathing. My heart raises again.He's pale, he looks cold. I take another step closer.My heart raises again. The necklace…My heart starts pounding fast. "Zack," I let out. My voice comes out small and fragile.