Chapter 11 Lacey
LACEY
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
Ithought spring was supposed to be warmer. Sunnyvale is the most misleading town name. It’s never sunny here. It’s starting to get cold out tonight, and my breath leaves my lips in short little white clouds as I exit the mall.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Jessica asks, which is nice and all but there’s no way I’m getting in the car with her pervy stepdad Steve. I’m legal now, and everyone in this town knows that creeper Steve likes to stare at the barely legals a little too long.
“No thanks,” I holler at her and give her a small wave. “Sam is coming to get me.”
Something flashes across her face, a look of guilt perhaps.
She shouldn’t be feeling sorry for me, I’ll be cruising with my boyfriend while she’s stuck with Steve.
I should be the one feeling bad for her.
It must be hard being new your senior year, but she could try a little harder. A little makeup wouldn’t kill her.
I watch as her station wagon lights disappear into the last fading embers of the day. A small breeze whips across the parking lot, sending a shiver running through me right as all the streetlights flick on.
“Damn it, Sam. Where are you?” I mutter to myself more than to anyone.
I uncross my arms and adjust the bag in my arms to twist my wrist and look at my watch. Fifteen after seven. He was supposed to be here at quarter to. All the other girls are long gone, and it’s starting to get dark. And cold.
“You have five more minutes and I’m walking,” I mumble to imaginary Sam.
A mother walks out of the doors to my right, holding the hand of her daughter who looks to be about eight or nine.
She gives me a look of mild concern but I smile and nod reassuringly.
She looks like she might say something but finally turns and hurries her dark-haired daughter off to their station wagon.
I really don’t need random moms to be pitying my lonely ass at the mall, so I’m out.
Pushing off the brick wall, I navigate the sidewalk around the edge of the parking lot and towards the back entrance.
If I’m going to walk home, I’m going to take the side streets.
I always feel far too exposed walking along the main road.
The night is getting deeper and darker by the minute, and my baby blue mini sweater is totally not keeping me warm enough.
I would have worn a coat if I knew I’d be walking.
“Damn it, Sam,” I grumble as I walk, readjusting the dress bag in my arms.
I was finally able to get a prom dress tonight.
Not the one I originally wanted though. No, Stacey said that one was too formal.
She said it looked like a bridesmaid’s dress.
I guess I get what she was saying. We all ended up getting the same dress but in different colors.
It’s sequined with a tight bodice and huge skirt with tons of tulle.
The entire prom queen nominee lineup will be matching.
It’s going to look totally dope in photos!
Stacey got pink, of course—her signature color.
Whitney, Stacey’s newest and favorite lackey now that Nicole is gone, got purple.
I got teal, which I have to admit looks fabulous with my new tan and my blonde hair.
Jessica was the most difficult to get to agree, but finally she relented and grabbed a sapphire blue one which will look stunning on her. Maybe she’ll let me do her hair for—
A noise behind me pulls me from my thoughts.
“Hello?” I ask, spinning to turn around.
The swiftly darkening street is empty. There’s not a living creature in sight. And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not alone. A pit begins to form in my stomach, a gnawing ache of growing anxiety. I swallow down the lump beginning to form in my throat.
“Sam? Is that you?” I ask, louder this time.
I readjust the bag in my arms. The crinkle of the plastic dress bag is loud across the empty silence surrounding me. I wait another moment, nothing.
Maybe it was all in my head.
Turning, I continue walking down the side street, towards the busier road ahead. This time, my steps are swifter. If I can just get to Hoover Street, which is just ahead of me, then I’ll be in a neighborhood, surrounded by houses and families. Safety. Close. So close.
Then I hear it again—footsteps.
Someone’s following me. Stalking me.
“What the hell?!” I shout as I spin around again, expecting to find the street empty behind me. But I’m wrong.
Standing behind me is a figure cloaked in blackness and shadows. They’re dressed in all black, and their face is covered by a mask—a grotesque pig mask. The pink plastic is wrinkled and mottled. Red and brown rims each of blackened eye holes.
“Wh—who are you?” I mutter as I take a step away.
They take a silent step towards me. In the last straining light of dusk, I notice something in their hand—something metallic. A knife. My stomach drops and fear clenches my core.
“This—this isn’t funny,” I yell, trying my best to mask the terror in my tone.
They chuckle, a low, slow sound full of sinister intent. It sends shivers skittering across my skin. When they speak, their voice is strange and distorted as if sent through some type of device.
“Scream for me, Prom Queen,” they command.
And I do.
I shriek and spin. Running as fast as I can towards the main road, I scream again and again for help.
My footfalls echo off the brick walls around us as I desperately attempt to escape.
I’m close, so close, when they grab me. Their fingers clasp around my sweater, pulling me backwards.
I panic, flailing and fighting for freedom.
“Stay still, bitch,” they growl in my ear, their voice definitely distorted by some type of machine.
“Fuck you!” I growl as I throw my elbow backwards into their stomach. They let out a huff of pain and their grip loosens enough for me to slip away.
I step back just in time to see them rise back up to their full height. They raise the knife up and point it straight at me.
“I’m gonna carve that pretty face up, Scream Queen. Stain that fake-ass, white smile red with blood.”
They lunge at me, the knife gleaming in the low light of the quickly rising moon. I shriek, throwing up my hands. The knife pierces straight through the plastic of the dress bag I’m still holding, slicing my dress apart.
“What the fuck?!” I shout. “That was my prom dress, you psycho!”
They literally only had one single dress in this style, color, and size.
I’ll never be able to find another. How fucking dare, they?
Fury courses through me, replacing the fear from a moment before.
I twist my hands, trapping the knife and their arm in a mess of tulle and plastic and sequins.
And then I kick out. I shove the toe of my black chunky boots into their shin as hard as I can.
“Fuck!” they scream out in pain, releasing the knife and folding in half in agony.
I take the opportunity to turn and run.
“Help! Help!” I scream as I race to the road. I see a car ahead—a red sports car. I know that car, it’s Sam’s car. “Sam! Sam!” I scream as loudly as I can, praying he’ll hear me.
“Get back here, Prom Queen!” the monster behind me roars. “I’m not done with you!”
My lungs are on fire, my side aches, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I run as fast as my feet can carry me.
“Sam!” I yell again as I get closer and closer to the opening at the end of this back side street and out to the main road. “Sam, help me!”
Twenty more feet. Ten more feet. Five. So close. So close.
“I’m going to slice you open and gut you like a pig, you fucking bitch,” they yell from behind me. They sound close, too close. I just need to get to Sam, to safety.
My feet fall on the sidewalk of the main road and I spin, turning the corner. Immediately, I run straight into a wall of muscle. My body crumbles and I collapse as I’ve run head-on into Sam’s waiting arms.
“Lacey,” he says as he wraps me tightly up, placing one hand in my hair and one on my back. “What’s wrong?”
“Sam,” I choke out between panting sobs and strangled breaths. “There’s someone there. They tried to kill me. They have a knife.”
I feel Sam immediately stiffen, before shoving me behind him protectively. “Are you hurt?” he asks as he takes a cautious step towards the corner to the side street.
“No,” I reassure him. “I managed to get away. But we need to get out of here, Sam. Please!”
He takes another step forward and my heart rate ratchets up. Panic threatens to pull me under, and I prepare to run again as Sam peeks around the corner which I just came around.
“Lace,” he says to me as he stares down the side street. “There’s no one here.”
He turns back to look at me, his eyebrows shooting up. I glare at him in confusion.
“They were just there,” I shriek, stepping up to where he’s standing. “They tried to kill me. They were wearing a mask and—”
I turn and stare down the darkened street with Sam. He’s right—there’s no one here. It’s completely empty except for the tattered remains of my prom dress. The sequins scattered along the ground are the only remaining evidence of my attack.
“I think you’re gonna need a new dress, Lacey,” Sam says with a chuckle before turning and heading back to his car. “Come on, let’s grab some dinner.”
He can laugh it off, but I know what I saw. There’s someone out there, someone with evil intent. Someone is hunting down potential Sunnyvale High prom queens. And they want me dead.