5. Leni
5
LENI
“Hey, are you okay?”
Piper’s whispered question pulls me back to the present moment, where she is staring at me while a couple picks a fight with each other on the screen in front of us. The rest of the audience laughs along with the jokes—it’s one of those snarky, cleverly written romantic comedies that I would probably enjoy much more if I could concentrate on it. The girl picks up a balled-up pair of socks from under the bed and hurls them at the guy’s head after spending most of the movie asking him to pick up after himself. Everybody bursts out laughing.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, forcing a smile before reaching for the popcorn. She doesn’t buy it, obviously, and I can see her shaking her head from the corner of my eye. Yeah, it would be really nice if I felt like I could tell her what’s going on, that I keep getting these messages from whoever is trying to get into my head—and how they keep getting worse.
But what could she do about it? It would just be letting whoever is behind this win, and I’m not going to let them win. They don’t deserve it. They’re not going to ruin my life.
What I really need to do is enjoy a night out with my friend. This is supposed to be my chance to leave all the stress and drama behind for a little while. As happy as I am to be with Colt, as much as I love him, the air in the apartment can sometimes get so thick it’s hard to breathe. Sometimes he gets in these moods where I’m afraid to move too much, like it might set him off.
I know it’s not about me, and that he wouldn’t take his anger out on me. He just can’t accept the truth, is all. He’s hurting, even if he would never say those words out loud. He misses Nix. He is sure Nix is alive, and the rest of us are crazy for thinking otherwise. He’s carrying a lot of anger and other feelings inside him that he doesn’t know how to express. I doubt James was exactly the kind of father who encouraged sharing and talking.
He was too busy being a sick bastard.
As usual, my stomach churns when I think of him, meaning I should stop thinking about him. He’s already taken up enough space in my life and doesn’t deserve another inch.
Besides, there’s already so much going on in my head. Who am I to worry about Colt and what he’s going through when I’m sitting here with the feeling that I’m being watched?
I have to be imagining it. I mean, I’m sitting here in a theater full of people—of course, there’s bound to be somebody looking at me at some point, right? There are rows and rows of seats behind me. I need to get out more if just going out to a movie with my best friend has me this freaked out.
Grabbing a handful of popcorn, I decide to focus on the movie and ignore the way my skin keeps crawling. I have everything in life, don’t I? I have a boyfriend who loves me. I live in a beautiful apartment. I go to school, and even if I don’t have a ton of friends, I have Piper. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s quality over quantity every time. I could have a hundred shitty friends who make my life miserable and keep me guessing whether or not they actually like me, or I could have one good friend who I know wants the best for me. I have it better than a lot of people do when I look at my life that way.
So why the hell am I sitting here wishing I could run out of the theater because I can’t shake the feeling of being studied? Not just watched, but actually studied, like I’m a science project. Who am I to wonder whether Colt needs to talk to somebody about his inability to face the truth when I’m making up an entire story in my head?
A story that makes me look over my shoulder as casually as I can, scanning the seats behind me. What do I expect to find? The Grim Reaper? Somebody holding a scythe? Somebody dragging their thumb across their throat before pointing at me? Maybe a big old sign: “I am going to kill Leni Peterson.”
At least my snickering is covered by the laughter of the audience, who are actually paying attention to the movie.
I’m almost kind of sad when the credits start to roll and the lights come up. Once again, I let my inner thoughts get in the way of the present moment. “That was fun. Sometimes you just need something that doesn’t make you think, you know?”
“Yeah, you just need to turn off your brain for a little while. Really, I should’ve stayed home and studied for physics.” She groans while gathering up the leftovers of our snacks. “But I literally could not take another second of it. The words were starting to switch places on the page.”
“Just don’t blame me if you don’t get a good grade on the exam.” I’m teasing, laughing, while at the same time looking around to see if I can figure out who might have been watching me from one of the back rows now that the lights are up. There are so many people—I didn’t think the theater would be this crowded so late on a weeknight. I guess I’m not the only person who wanted to escape reality for a little while.
“You know me,” she jokes, waving a hand. “I’ll take a nap when I get back to my room and cram a little more until the second before class starts, and I’ll end up getting an A.”
“I would call that humble bragging, but you’re not even being humble about it.” We’re both laughing as we walk out of the theater with only a few people behind us at this point.
The hallway and lobby are completely choked with people. I guess all the movies got out around the same time, all of the theaters emptying out at once. “Glad I don’t have to pee,” I mutter, eyeing the number of women heading for the bathrooms.
Piper only groans. “I knew that large Diet Coke would be a bad idea.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, grimacing.
“Go ahead, I’ll wait,” I offer, even though I’m pretty sure I’ll end up waiting forever at this rate. There’s a bench near the hallway leading to the restrooms, so I plop down and pull out my phone to text Colt and let him know I’m going to be home soon.
“I thought something smelled like shit around here. Now I know why.”
I look up before I can think twice, more curious than anything else. But I know before I’ve even made eye contact with the person that nasty voice belongs to who I’m going to find. There’s only one person I’ve ever met who manages to sound so disgusted.
Deborah changed her hair color recently. Now it’s a vibrant, almost platinum blonde that shimmers when she shakes her head disapprovingly. “I’m surprised Colt lets you out without a leash.”
“Maybe he hopes she won’t be able to find her way home.” That charming little quip comes from the guy she’s standing next to, who I realize after a few confused seconds is Bradley’s brother, Dennis. He looks me up and down, just as hateful and smug as the girl he drapes an arm around. “He might as well leave her in town with a sign that says free to a good home .”
Of course, Deborah laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. That’s how she is. It doesn’t matter who she’s with. She’ll treat them like they’re the funniest, most interesting person who ever lived, so long as they pretend to like her. I would feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a disgusting person.
Of all times for Piper to need a bathroom break. I have to sit here while they laugh at me, while the people still leaving the different theaters glance our way in curiosity as they walk past. A few of them look sorry for me, which only makes it worse.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. There’s only so long I can pretend not to be bothered. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” I ask, and I’m not faking how tired I sound. I’m exhausted by all of this. Why can’t she move on?
“Just now? No, I don’t. Because I don’t like it when people leave trash lying around,” she retorts, hands on her hips. “And you are most definitely trash.”
“Sorry you feel that way.” Because if there’s one thing I know she hates, it’s when I don’t react. That’s how bullies function. Taking away the reaction they’re looking for is like taking away their oxygen. With a sigh, I turn back to my phone, trembling a little but pretending not to care.
“Everybody knows what you did.”
Those are the exact words my online bullies used the last time they sent a message. It takes every ounce of self-control to not react when, really, I want to scream. I want to jump off this bench and pull every strand of fake platinum hair out of her scalp. I might shove it down her throat while I’m at it.
“And exactly what did I do? Since you seem to know so much about me,” I reply without looking up. It’s actually a shame Piper isn’t here to see this. She would be proud of how casual I’m acting.
“Don’t be cute,” Deborah warns. “It doesn’t work for you. And you know exactly what I’m talking about, you little cunt. Where is Bradley?”
Is that what this is all about? Curiosity and surprise make me lift my gaze away from the phone and look at her for the first time. “How would I know where Bradley is? Seriously, why would I know that?”
“For starters, my brother was supposed to be hanging out with Nix the day of that so-called accident at your house.” Dennis drops his arm from around Deborah’s waist so he can fold both of them over his chest. I wish I could say I wasn’t intimidated.
“I heard he went away for the weekend and didn’t come back,” I reply with a shrug. What the hell is taking her so long in there? Knowing Piper, she’s making friends with at least three other women, talking about the movie while they wait in line, complimenting somebody’s lip gloss while they’re washing their hands.
“Yeah, that’s what everybody seems to think, and isn’t that convenient for you?” Dennis lifts his lip in a sneer that, no matter how I fight against it, makes my blood run cold. “Just like it’s convenient that the explosion was ruled an accident.”
“What the hell do you think you’re getting at?” I have to ask. “What, you think I’m some psycho mastermind who started an explosion in my own house while my mom and stepdad were in there? Or do you think I’m a stupid piece of trash?” I continue, glaring at Deborah. “Maybe you should make up your minds.”
“Maybe you should watch who you’re mouthing off to,” Dennis warns. His dark eyes are blank, empty as they stare holes into me. “There are all kinds of ways to get a person to admit the truth. Do you really want me to demonstrate them for you?”
It’s enough to make my blood run cold. Now I really wish I had gotten in line to go to the bathroom because my bladder suddenly feels too heavy. “Right here?” I ask, faking innocence. “With an audience?”
“Wherever and whenever the hell I want,” he replies, and his tone is chilling. Lowering his brow, he sneers, “You just wait and see. You’ll never know when it’s coming, but it is coming. So enjoy your life while you can.”
There’s no pretending that’s anything less than a threat. Standing slowly on trembling legs, I force myself to look him in the eye. Really, what I want to do is run away and hide, but then that’s what he wants, too. “You know, you really shouldn’t make threats like that, especially in public. People might get the wrong idea and think you’re serious, which I know you can’t be.”
“Is that what you think? Well, maybe it’s what you need to believe,” he replies. “And that’s fine. Doubt me all you want. I’m going to find out what the hell happened to my brother, what you and Colt did to him—I’m going to make you pay. Wait and see.”
“And there I was, thinking the only drama I’d see tonight was on the movie screen.” Piper couldn’t have picked a better time to show up, draping an arm around my shoulders before snorting. “You sound like a cheesy villain from an ’80s movie. Maybe you should start wearing polo shirts so you can pop the collar and really complete the look.”
“Fuck off,” Deborah sneers.
“What, your man can’t speak for himself?” Without waiting for a reply, Piper steers us away from them. “I would tell you to have a good night, but I really hope you don’t,” she calls out over her shoulder as we walk away while the two of them mutter under their breath.
“They’re insane,” I whisper as we cross the lobby, now much quieter than before since most people have left.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. But they’re just assholes, acting like assholes,” she decides with her usual confidence. “Trust me, Deborah is so full of shit, I’m surprised her eyes aren’t brown.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. It feels good, releasing the pent-up energy like this. “I just don’t know why he thinks Bradley has anything to do with me.”
“Oh, you know how it is. I guess he doesn’t know who to blame or even if there’s anybody to blame,” she reasons as we cross the lot that has now emptied, for the most part, heading for her car. It’s a little chilly, making me wrap my arms around myself before I shiver. “So, what do you do? You lash out. And if you’re already an asshole like the two of them, you act like a real dick about it.”
She’s right, though it doesn’t help. They’re not just going to magically give this up, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I start getting even more messages than I did before. The threats, the warnings, they’ll all probably ramp up after what just went down.
And I can’t tell Colt about it. I can’t. All it would do is give him an excuse to vent what I know is building in him—his frustration when nobody but he believes Nix is still alive. He would take it out on the two of them, and it would get extremely ugly.
Not that I care about them. They could smash up their car on the way from the theater, and I wouldn’t shed a tear. I’m more worried about him. I wouldn’t want him to get in trouble. No, I can’t tell him about what happened tonight or any of it. Because I love him, and I know it would only hurt him in the end.
“Do you feel all right?” Piper sounds concerned as she starts the car, frowning at me.
“I feel fine,” I lie, because the truth is, even though I have so many good things in my life, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone.