Chapter 14
ELLA
I’ve been hiding in the shadows of the apartment corridor for nearly forty-five minutes now. I’ve texted and called Dakota, Catie, and Hannah over the past several days, ever since I found out the truth from Caleb, telling them that I need to speak with them. They keep putting me off.
No more. That ends today. Whoever comes home first is the lucky winner.
Five minutes later, Catie walks up the stairs. Her keys jingle in the lock and she smacks the gum in her mouth. Walking into the apartment, she flicks the door closed behind her, but not before I slam it open with my fist. It bounces off the wall with a loud bang.
Catie spins around, her hand covering her heart. She heaves a sigh of relief when she realizes it’s me. “What the hell, Ella? You scared the shit out of me.”
“Well, I could say the idea of you propositioning my sister’s boyfriend with sex to get drugs scared the crap out of me too.”
Her mouth falls open and her face burns bright red. Tossing her purse, backpack, and shopping bag on the kitchen counter, she starts shuffling through the mail, avoiding my gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie, Catie. I know Carrie was using. And selling to you. My sister was obviously doing some bad things with some bad people and now she’s missing. How could none of you think that is important information to give to the detectives? If just one of you had told the truth, maybe she would be here now, instead of who knows where?” I toss my hand around the room, mimicking the vast unknown.
She doesn’t turn around, but I do hear her sniffle. She mumbles her response, “I don’t know what Caleb has been telling you…”
“The truth. But only after I searched and found most of the answers myself. What if this drug business got her into trouble?”
She turns around, sniffling again. Strange how she can sniffle, but her eyes are bone dry. Is she fake crying? Is this bitch seriously fake crying right now.
“Are you going to the police? Are you gonna tell them we were all doing drugs?”
“Are you kidding me right now? That’s what you’re worried about? People finding out you’re a junkie? You’re more worried about your stupid reputation than my sister’s well-being?”
Now tears do stream down her face. Selfish fear has her trembling in her fur-lined boots. Her cell phone starts to ring in her purse, but we both ignore it. “Please, Ella, you don’t understand. No one can know. I’m not an addict or anything. I just do it occasionally to take the edge off. If my parents find out, they’ll make me come home, leave school. What about graduating? I already have some companies looking at me.”
I stand straight, breathing deeply through my nose, trying to calm my raging thoughts. I press my palms to my eyelids, pushing until my vision turns black with purple and yellow spots. Finally, I put my hands down and ask the question that’s the root of it all. “If I tell Detective Marcum about the drugs, about Carrie, about you, about everything, will you come clean? Will you admit the truth and help me find my sister?”
She wipes the tears with the back of her manicured hand. “No. I’ll never admit to drug use. I’ll deny everything. Tell them I have no idea what you’re talking about. So will the other girls. It will be you and Caleb against us. And I’ll tell everyone that Caleb made a pass at me and I turned him down. That’s why he’s making up this story now.”
So, that’s it. That’s how it’s gonna be.
Caleb is right. The girls will never tell the truth. They are more interested in their reputation. And their future. Which does nothing but pulverize Carrie’s chance of a future if she’s even still alive.
And Ry is right, the people involved with the gas station will never tell the truth, either. They are more concerned with their next high and protecting that Trey person. And whoever his supplier is.
I’m defeated. I feel like I’ve been trampled by a herd of stampeding rhinos. My weakened voice stretches the distance between us. “I just don’t get it. How did you even get started in all this? I know Carrie had the bike accident, but what happened to you? To Hannah? To Dakota? Why on earth would you start using drugs?”
Catie scoffs, folding her arms across her chest. Seeing she’s won this battle, she wants to drive the sword through my heart even more. “It’s all Carrie’s fault. She brought that shit into this apartment. Begged us to use with her. Told us how good we would feel. How we could all escape from reality. There’s no one to blame but her.”
I lose my mind. Literally.
I’m a wild heathen trapped in the body of a southern debutante.
I race across the room, shoving her out of the way. I blindly flail my arms, pushing mail and bags to the tile floor. A drinking glass flies off the counter and shatters. My fingers wrap around the strap of her purse, and Catie screams at me, trying to rip it from my hands.
I’m tall. Really tall. And Catie isn’t. I use that to my advantage, shoving her and bumping her with my hips. She stumbles back and falls over the loveseat. I quickly turn her purse over, dumping all of the contents around me.
Her shout echoes in my ears, but I choose to ignore it. “What are you doing? Stop! What are you looking for?”
And then I see it.
It tumbled under the strap of her backpack. It’s hiding from me. But I see it nonetheless. The small tin breath mint container. It’s so offensive, it makes me want to throw up.
Carrie always has a tin of breath mints in her purse. Always. And she knows I’ll never open it. I hate them. I hate the aftertaste. I hate the texture.
Gum. She always carries gum for me in her purse. Even though she hates gum.
I grab the container and turn to the kitchen sink. This makes Catie scream absolute bloody murder. It could be the loudest noise I’ve ever heard. “Stop!” She’s standing now and races to the kitchen to stop me.
I flick open the lid and five little pills stare at me. Three white, one pink, and one blue. Her stash. I found her stash. She grabs me by the waist trying to pull me back, but I’ve already turned on the faucet and disposal. My hips bump across the handles of the cabinet drawers, bouncing one open. She reaches around to smack the tin from my hand, but I turn my shoulder, blocking her access. With one fluid flick of my wrist, I chop her little dreams into powered dust and wash them out to sea.
Or at least to the water treatment plant.
She immediately freezes in shock and we both watch the water swirl around and around in the stainless-steel sink. Eventually, I flip the switch to the disposal and turn off the faucet, covering the apartment in a deathly silence.
That is, until Ry’s words leave my mouth. “You shouldn’t need an escape from reality. Reality reminds you where you belong.”
She turns to me with a look of pure evil etched on her face. “Fuck you, Ella.”
I’m not prepared for her retaliation, not prepared for her shove. That’s why I fall, why I stumble. My hand knocks into the side of the open drawer, right where the unfinished wood meets the finished wood, and my knuckles scrape. I fall on my butt, but make the mistake of grabbing the open drawer when trying to clamber back to my feet. That’s when she slams my hand in the drawer.
Hard. Not as hard as it could have been. But still hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, making me bite my tongue in pain. The back of my hand bruises instantaneously.
Catie races to her bedroom, locking the door. Leaving me flopping on the kitchen floor like a dying fish.
And still no closer to finding out where my sister is than before I confronted Catie.