6. Juliet
JULIET
S ilverwood Public looks different as Lex pulls into the student lot earlier than usual on Monday morning and parks the SUV towards the back.
I know it’s not. The faded redbrick building is the same, as are the few dingy-ass cars poorly parked across the cracked black pavement.
There aren’t many this early in the morning, but enough to know the building isn’t unoccupied.
All of that is normal. My perspective is the only thing that’s changed.
I scan the lot and mentally mark where Lex’s SUV had been parked on Friday night, only a few aisles over from the new spot. I can see the top of the stadium from here and though I try not to think about it, the image of what it looked like the night I’d been taken pops into my mind.
Dark and empty save for rows upon rows of cars.
Burned-out bulbs in the safety lights at the back of the lot and a soft glow above the stadium.
The sounds of people cheering, of the announcer’s voice above everything else.
The scent of popcorn and frost in the air.
None of it had been on my mind as I’d walked to the SUV.
I’d hardly noticed all of those tiny little details.
I’d been focused on getting away, on breathing through the rise of bile in my throat as I thought about why someone had attacked Gio because of me. Now, I know.
Morpheus might feel safe because I haven’t told anyone about his crimes, but I’m no longer in his sphere and I won’t let myself be again. One secret shame is more than enough for me.
“At least you don’t need to worry about rushing off to work after class,” Gio says as he hops out of the opposite side of the back seat. “You can stick around and watch us get our asses handed to us by Coach after school.”
I shoot Nolan a look and before Gio can see it coming, he smacks him in the back of the head.
“Hey! What the hell was that for?” Gio grumbles.
“For being a dick,” I say. I feel no remorse.
“But I didn’t say anything wrong.”
This time, I don’t even have to give Nolan a look for him to get the memo. A second slap is delivered, harder than the first.
“Stop it!” Gio dodges a third one and jogs a few steps ahead, his own bag banging against his back before he turns around and walks backwards, flipping the remaining three of us the bird. “I’m not a dick if I don’t know what was wrong with what I said!” he calls out.
“Yes, you are,” I reply. “It just means you’re a dense dickhead.”
Nolan chuckles, but it doesn’t last long. Gio seems to be the only one able to hold his smile—not that I’ve been one much for smiling in the last few months. Around the three of them, though, that has started to change and I almost lost it all.
“We’ve got to head to Coach’s office,” Nolan says as we walk the length of the lot towards the double doors leading inside. “Are you going to be okay on your own?”
“What?” I ask, casting him a sidelong glance. “Do you think more kidnappers are going to appear and drag me out of the building?”
He goes silent and Lex’s hand touches the small of my back. “I can hang with her and meet with Coach later,” he offers.
“For fuck’s sake.” I jolt away from Lex and glare in his direction. “You’re not going to be able to follow me around every second of every day for the rest of my life.”
“Not for the rest of your life,” Nolan corrects. “Just until Morpheus Calloway isn’t a threat anymore.”
“Speak for yourself.” Lex’s quiet mutter earns him a reproachful look, but he stares silently ahead and doesn’t even acknowledge my annoyance.
“Stalker,” I hiss.
His lips twitch. “Only for you, baby.”
I must be sick in the head, because… I think I’m starting to like it.
Gio is already at the doors, holding them open for us when we catch up to him. The four of us file into the nearly empty front hall and as they linger, I realize that Nolan was serious about me not being left alone.
“I’ll go find Mads,” I say as a concession. “She’s probably in the newspaper room right now. I can hang with her until first bell.”
The three of them exchange glances, and that’s it for me. I’m done. Flipping on my heel, I offer them all a one-fingered salute and start walking. “Have fun with Coach!”
Gio’s groan of dismay is all the response I get, but when I turn the corner, I peer back to see that not a single one of them have left their places.
They watch me until they literally can’t anymore and the dead thing inside of my chest that I thought couldn’t give a shit about anyone anymore shudders with some unnamed emotion.
Thankfully, I do find Mads in the newspaper room and even better, she’s the only one there. As soon as the door opens, her messy blonde bun pops over the screen of one of the dozen or so computer station cubicles.
“Juliet?” The sound of a chair scraping tile shrieks as she gets fully to her feet and hurries towards me. “What happened to you Friday night? I was so worried!”
The door swings shut behind me as she stops in front of me and grabs my hands. “It’s complicated,” I say, gripping her back.
Her brows crease, causing shadows to cast over her eyes, and I realize it’s not just shadows that are darkening her expression. The skin beneath her eyes is nearly purple.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I reach up, releasing one of her hands, and brush the tip of a finger over her upper cheek. “You look tired.”
She lets go and takes a step back, chuckling drily as she shifts on her feet. “It’s nothing,” she says. “I’ve just been taking a few extra Bible study classes my parents wanted me to pick up and it’s been difficult to find the time to study for school too.”
Mads walks back towards her station, grips her chair, and flips it around before all but collapsing into it. With a determined look my way, she points to the chair next to hers. “Sit.”
Surprised by the authoritative tone and a little impressed by the show of spine, I march towards her and take a seat in the chair she indicated.
“Now, the truth, please,” she says.
I arch a brow. “You first.”
“I did tell you the truth,” she shoots back. “All you said was that ‘it’s complicated’.” The last two words are accompanied by finger air quotes and a scoff. “That’s as much of an answer as ‘I don’t know’ is.”
Rocking forward, I spread my legs and grip the front bottom of the chair and twist my head from side to side, taking in the rest of the room.
The only time I’ve ever actually been here was during Roquel’s tour on my first day.
Back then, school hadn’t even really started.
There’d been no pictures posted on the walls, no newspaper articles, as there are now.
I spot a few of them with Mads’ name beneath the titles.
“I can sit here in silence all day, Jules,” Madison states.
“No, you can’t,” I say, calling the obvious bluff without looking at her. “You have a perfect attendance record and you won’t fuck that up. Not even for me.”
“Try me.”
I blink and face her once more. She reclines in the plastic seat and crosses her arms, lifting one leg and hooking it over her knee as if she’s ready to settle in for the long haul. Maybe she is. Even so, I can’t drag her into the mess that is my life. I’d do the same for Roquel, flighty as she is.
If there’s one thing losing everything has taught me, it’s that the people who lift you up when you have nothing to offer them deserve more than respect. They deserve my loyalty, and that means not getting them hurt or killed.
As I open my mouth, Mads lifts a hand and holds it up to me, palm out. “If you’re going to lie, don’t bother.” She blows out a breath, sending one of the loose strands hanging over her forehead flying up and then back down. “Just tell me you can’t tell me and let that be it.”
I frown. “That’s enough?” Surely, she can’t be serious.
Mads’ shoulders lift and fall. “I’d rather you say that than lie to my face.”
“What if I can never tell you?”
Again, she shrugs. “Then you can’t ever tell me, but I’ll know that when you can you will.”
I eye her, taking in all of the details that I’ve seen every time we’ve met up, but the ones that are like background noise.
From her plain, unpainted nails to the bruises under her eyes and even the slight shape of a scar half hidden under the sleeve of her sweater.
I’ve considered Madison Torres a friend for months, but today, it feels like I’m seeing her in a new light.
Is that the truth or have I just been so adamant that everyone around me is out to get me?
Instead of letting myself get absorbed in that question or realization, I give her an honest answer. “You’re right,” I say. “There’s something going on, but I can’t tell you.”
Mads slumps in her seat and uncrosses her legs. “Just tell me you’re safe,” she insists, leaning forward. “You’re still staying with Nolan, right?”
“Actually…” I grimace. “Sort of, but I’ve moved in with Lex for the time being—he’s got a bit more freedom on his aunt’s farm.”
“But you’re still with them?” I nod, and she lets out a breath, collapsing against the back of her chair.
“You seem relieved,” I comment.
Reaching up, Mads pulls her bun free. The cascade of white blonde hair flutters around her heart-shaped face like a swan’s feathers, but just as quickly, she yanks it all back and reties it in a ponytail that keeps most of it out of her face the way the bun hadn’t.
“I am,” she admits, scooting her chair closer to her desk and turning to face her computer screen.
“I figured something must have happened to you Friday night when they took off the way they did. It was right in the middle of the game.” Her eyes slant back to me.
“The whole school is going to be talking about it today.”
She’s right. There’s no avoiding the wagging tongues.
Silverwood runs on gossip and scandal. Small towns are like that and if there’s money involved, it’s even worse.
If I stay here, I’ll never escape my name or my background.
Funny. I’ve been on both sides of Silverwood and after some consideration, they’re really not much different.
“Let them talk,” I finally say. “I can’t stop them, and trying will only give them more ammunition.” Mads eyes me and her lips quirk upwards once more. If anyone can understand those words, it’s definitely her.
There are hierarchies wherever you go. There are liars. Deceivers. Cheaters. The devils are among us, and they always have been. None of us are innocent.