Chapter 20
Kiki and Carla have made the most out of their shared room in the short time we’ve been here.
Sequined mini dresses with matching heels in the closet and stacks of glittery eyeshadow palettes worth nearly three figures beside a pouch full of concealers, foundations, and moisturizers that must be worth twice that.
It’s a glimpse into the type of girlhood I never had.
“Sorry for the mess,” Kiki says casually as she scoops up a pile of jeans and crop tops beside the entryway and tosses them onto the lavender comforter.
“Drink?” Carla offers as she pours one for herself from the makeshift bar they’ve set up on top of the dresser. Dozens of bottles of liquors, sodas, and juices are lined up between crumpled receipts and half-melted candles bathing the room in a soft orange glow.
The normalcy of it all makes the back of my neck prickle. They’re acting as if Kiki didn’t threaten me less than an hour ago. Like we’re not stuck in this cabin in the dark in the middle of the storm. Like we’re not strangers.
“Sure,” I say before I can regret it. Going along with whatever they want is the safer bet, and maybe a few careful sips will at least make playing along come more naturally.
“Pick your poison.” Carla gestures to the array of options.
My stomach tightens, and I quickly cross my arms across my middle. “Not tequila.”
Carla nods before picking up a clear bottle from the end of the lineup. “Gin it is.”
While Kiki finishes tidying up the room and Carla works on my drink, the storm rages on.
Flashes of lightning make us all jump, followed by rumbles of thunder that seem three times as loud as they had been earlier in the night.
The rain is coming down hard enough to even drown out the steady badum of my heart echoing in my ears.
“That asshole better be back soon,” Carla mutters as she pulls aside the lace curtain covering the window beside the bed.
“Timothy’s still not back?” I ask.
I’d assumed Timothy would’ve shown up while Kai and I were in my room.
It would’ve been difficult to find his way to the cabin before the storm started, but now getting back would be nearly impossible.
Between the wind and the mud covering his tracks, if he’s not lost by now, he will be if he doesn’t get back ASAP.
As much as I don’t want to be locked in the same space with him, I’d never wish for someone to be stranded in the woods in this kind of storm.
Not to mention that him getting back means me getting out of here. And with Kiki subtly pushing the door to the room closed, I hear Mikey’s voice echoing in my ears again. You’re not safe there.
“Not yet,” Carla says without looking away from the window. From the way she chews on her glossy lower lip and her fingers tap a rapid beat against her arm, I can tell she’s as uneasy as I am.
“Should we go looking for him?” I suggest, unsure why we haven’t already.
“In the pouring rain? No thank you,” Kiki says as casually as if we were talking about going out to find a lost lip gloss instead of a person. She softens when she catches sight of Carla, though. “He’s probably hiding out somewhere until the storm passes.”
“Right…” But Carla doesn’t seem convinced, still gazing out the window.
Kiki wraps an arm around Carla’s shoulders, squeezing her to her side. “He’ll be fine,” she whispers as she gently pulls Carla away from the window.
Carla’s gaze lingers on the woods until Kiki sits her down on the edge of the bed and hands her the drink she’d been making me. While Carla chugs her half-finished concoction, Kiki does the honors of pouring me a new drink, handing it over with a smirk.
“Face mask or lip mask?” Kiki asks as I take my first sip.
The abrupt change in topic nearly makes me choke on my drink. “W-what?” I croak out between coughs, the alcohol stinging its way down my already-dry throat.
“What do you want to start with?” Kiki holds up a variety of pastel-colored packages, each of them with an over-the-top illustration. Rapunzel-like hair and lips so plump they look like sausages.
“Uh, lip mask,” I reply, my chest aching from the combined burn of another round of coughs and alcohol.
“Great choice,” she praises before guiding me toward the freshly cleared-off vanity.
She sets down the array of products in her arms, busying herself with tearing open the lip mask package.
In the vanity mirror’s reflection, I watch as Carla finishes off her drink with a wince, wiping the corner of her mouth and shaking herself slightly.
The chug seems to have done the trick, her eyes alight with a new kind of fire instead of the concern that kept her glued to the window.
All thoughts of Timothy seem to be abandoned as she slinks toward the vanity and perches herself over my shoulder.
Meanwhile, I find myself wishing to whatever deity is listening that he’ll get back soon. That I get to leave soon.
Unlike Kai, their smiles are harder to believe. Their sincerity is laced with hints of who they really are—the cruel mean girls who rule the student body on their perfectly crafted campaign of fear.
“You have such nice lips,” Carla praises, running her fingertips along her own. “Mine were basically nonexistent until I begged my mom for lip filler for my sixteenth.”
I can’t help but examine my own lips in the mirror, cheeks flushing as I realize they’re still swollen from earlier.
Pink and chapped from being occupied with Kai’s for so long.
I glance quickly over at Kiki as she opens up a light pink tube of clear gel and taps a bit onto her wrist before turning to me, wondering if she can tell the difference. What has changed about me.
Kiki leans toward me, a glob of the thick clear cream on her fingertip.
I hold my breath as she dabs the cream across my lips, so close I can smell the tequila lingering on her breath.
I follow orders when she instructs me to rub my lips together.
I’d watched her pump out the cream from a standard labeled tube.
If they’re planning something like Mikey warned, it probably isn’t this.
Not unless they managed to sneak something into a fully sealed tube.
Small beads mixed into the cream scrape my dry lips, making them feel more raw than they did when we started.
When I catch sight of myself in the mirror I almost laugh at the absurdity of my reflection—my lips plumped and swollen like a dead fish.
Out of context, I must look like I got stung by a bee, or had a serious allergic reaction to something.
If this is what they’re up to—making me look like a monster just to make fun of me, or take pictures and spread it around the school, so be it.
I’ve been through worse. And at least I’ll be able to breathe a little easier knowing the worst is over.
That I can still make it home unscathed.
Carla drags a beanbag from the opposite end of the room toward the vanity, collapsing onto it and spilling some of her drink down the front of the deep red tube dress she’s pulled on over her swimsuit.
The drink doesn’t stain though, the front of her chest already wet from the outline of her bikini top.
“So, Kai really likes you,” she says with a mischievous grin, arching an eyebrow at me as she takes another sip.
I resist the urge to take a sip of my own drink and risk ruining the lip mask, tapping my finger against the side of the cup instead. “We’re just friends,” I mumble, thankful that the lip mask makes it tough to talk clearly.
“Friends who make out with each other?” Carla teases while Kiki pointedly ignores us, her face as unreadable as stone. She doesn’t even look over, too busy pulling open a packet of undereye patches.
I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to remind Carla that she and Kiki are also just friends. They didn’t seem to have any issue making out with each other, even though one of them has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that’s currently stranded outside in the middle of a storm.
A deep clap of thunder saves me from having to reply, drowning out the quiet music playing from the wireless speaker on the dresser.
“So, spill. What’s going on between you two?” Carla pries again, nudging her fist against my knee.
The lip mask suddenly feels like it’s burning when Kiki returns to my side, a set of gold comma-shaped patches beneath her eyes.
She grips my chin so unexpectedly I almost jolt off the edge of my seat, but Kiki’s grip is firm enough to keep me in place.
The patches she applies beneath my own eyes are so cold they send instant chills down my spine.
Wet and slimy and making my skin crawl. I dare a glance up at her, unable to keep my gaze averted for long with her this close to me, but there’s no hint in her deep brown eyes about how she feels about Carla’s prying.
It’s almost as if she’s looking right through me.
“Nothing,” I finally reply once Kiki has let go of me to wipe her damp fingers off on her sweatpants.
“We’re just…” I hesitate, unsure how to describe what exactly we’re doing, and how much to reveal.
Based on everyone’s reaction to my presence tonight, no one had any idea that Kai and I were…
whatever it is that we are. I’m not sure how much he’s told them, or whether he prefers to keep that side of his life to himself.
“We’re getting to know each other,” I finally settle on, a vague enough answer.
“Clearly,” Carla says with a snort. Suddenly, I’m grateful for the eyepatches. At least they cover up most of the color spreading across my cheeks.
Kiki still doesn’t say anything as she pulls up a fluffy pink stool and sits down beside me.
Coming in here, I’d been terrified of what she might say once she had me alone.
But the silence is even more unnerving. We’re only a few rooms down from Kai—assuming he didn’t head downstairs.
Even if he did, he’s close enough that they wouldn’t try anything… would they?