Chapter 7. Tessa #2
I glance at the glass ballroom doors again, and the promise of freedom outside.
Why am I taking Reed’s word for it? Just because he’s too afraid to leave doesn’t mean I have to stay.
I’ll go home to my dad—even if I am dead, at least I’ll be somewhere safe, somewhere I know I’m loved.
Even if it’s hard, it’ll still be far better than having to deal with Reed’s self-important, spoiled attitude.
“You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving after all.
If you’re too scared of sandworms or whatever, then be my guest and hide out here.
You can have your pick of dusty bedrooms.” I cruise up to the exit, reaching out to grasp the handle of the closest door, but although I can feel the cold metal of the knob, I can’t compel it to move.
I check, but the bolt is clearly in the unlocked position.
That stops me in my tracks. Why won’t it open? I rattle the handle to no avail. It refuses to slide open or closed.
Reed watches me warily as I try the handle of the other door. Then the windows beside them. One. Two. Three. Nothing will budge. I race to other windows along the outer wall. No lock will shift, no window will crack open.
No, no, no, no, no.
How is it I can feel things but not move them? What is this nightmare?
“Well, look at that. I guess you’re stuck with me after all.” He shrugs one shoulder, lips pursed, but there’s something behind his eyes that his flippancy is masking. Fear? He must be as freaked out as I am that we seem to be trapped.
I start pacing again. If we really are stuck here, then we need to avoid each other, that’s all.
That’s the only way we’re getting through this.
I step forward, hands on my hips, and size him up.
“We obviously don’t want to be here together, so let’s not.
We divide up the house and forget about each other.
You stay on your side; I’ll stay on my side, and we can just, I don’t know, rest in peace and all that. ”
“Deal. You can have the second floor.”
“Always the gentleman.” I cross my arms, shaking my head. “I’m not going anywhere near there, and you know it. I’ll take the third floor, and you can have down here.”
“Fine.” He doesn’t even argue, which makes me wonder if I should have chosen the first floor, but it’s too late now.
I blow past him toward the main ballroom exit, heading to the foyer and the grand staircase beyond. When I get to the door, I reach out to slam it behind me, forgetting for a moment I can’t move things.
“Ha.” His voice is closer than I expected, his laugh jeering. I didn’t realize he’d followed me over. “Bet you wish you could slam that door in my face so badly right now.”
This time the tears well hot and determined in my eyes, threatening to reveal exactly how scared and alone I feel, how much he gets to me.
But I blink them back. He will not make me cry …
he will not make me cry. “You’re a shitty person, Reed, and the last guy on earth I’d ever choose to be here with. ”
He flinches and I feel a flash of victory, knowing I can hurt him, too.
I whip around to march down the hall.
“Well, you’re a shitty person and a shitty ghost,” he hollers in my wake.
After dodging police all the way to the third floor, I make my way to the largest bedroom overlooking the back garden. I stagger a few feet forward before falling onto the floor in a heap of self-pity, sobbing into my knees.
How could I have gotten myself into this situation?
Why didn’t I leave with Tilly? I don’t want to be in this sad, isolated, creepy mansion.
I want my home and my bed. I want my dad to tuck me in and tell me it’s all going to be okay.
The tears keep coming as I smack my hands hard against the sides of my legs, thinking about the pain I’m causing the people I love.
This can’t be how my story ends. A cautionary tale wrapped around a bundle of terrible choices and tied off with a giant bow of remorse.
When night falls, I crawl on top of the sprawling bed, but I never sleep.
I drift along tossing and turning in a sea of regrets, wondering at which exact point I should have made a different choice—like those signs you see that say LAST EXIT BEFORE THE brIDGE.
Where was my last off-ramp? And why didn’t I take it?
It was probably letting Reed dare me to come here.
I should have ignored him like usual, but no, I had to go and prove myself to him.
I shake my head, wanting to focus on anything else.
I don’t want to consider why I care about his opinion.
Or what the challenge in his eyes did to me as he held my gaze in Principal Evans’s office yesterday.
I hate him. Now more than ever. I bet he’s not fretting, or tossing, or crying.
I bet he’s downstairs sleeping like a baby.
No. That’s not fair. He was obviously freaked out, too. But clearly not upset enough to search out my company. Though a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I’m the one who came up with this plan. I’m the one who said I’d rather avoid him for eternity. If that’s what this even is.
Eternity.
Are Reed and I stuck here nagging and snapping at each other forever?
I start tossing all over again.