Chapter 66
Maple
Hey, do any of you guys know where Maybe Maple gets her clothes? She always looks so cool. They’re probably gifted though, right? What kind of numbers do you need for free clothes?
‘Mall closes in five minutes, so if you could head for the exit, miss.’
I nod at the security guard, then walk toward the semicircle of glass doors that will take me outside.
He doesn’t need to know I’ve got nowhere to go.
Mom and Dad have both messaged me, but only to ask where I am.
It means the twins can’t have said anything – either out of loyalty to me, or because their brains haven’t processed it yet – but that doesn’t change the truth.
I’ve sent a few words back – I’m fine, I’ll be back later – and they’ve left it at that.
More proof that they don’t care. That I’m just there to pay the bills.
I push open the door and stare at the dimming sky. It’s not night quite yet, only eight o’clock, but I know it’s coming. Darkness.
When I left home over seven hours ago, I walked around my block for a while, trying to get my head straight. But then I saw on Snap Maps that Milly was back from Montana. I messaged her, suddenly desperate for some normality, and she invited me over to her house.
Milly’s an only child, which is rare around here, and her house is always super quiet.
I thought I’d like that, some calm, but it just made the noises in my head louder.
Milly poured us lemonade and talked about her cousins’ amazing ranch, and going horse riding, and how bright the stars are in Montana.
And I thought about how I don’t know who my dad is, and that my face is on porn sites, and my mom is an even bigger liar than Selena Hart.
And I still haven’t found Ella.
God, I want to go to Vegas. Do something risky and stupid that just might turn out to be the bravest and most important thing I’ve ever done. And Brandon could be a stand-up guy who just wants to help me save a girl in trouble.
But he could also be one of those men who fires up the Tor browser every night and looks for naked pictures of me.
And then what? He gets to go one better?
Acid surges in my belly, and I reach out for the barrier at the parking lot exit to steady myself.
But then it lifts, a car driving through, and my hand slips off.
The mall parking lot is almost empty now, the last few cars heading out, back to their families maybe, or cozy apartments, or student houses. Somewhere.
I left Milly’s around four, when I couldn’t stand her not knowing what was in my head, but also couldn’t find the words to tell her. I walked south, downtown. I hoped I’d get that same sense of freedom I felt when I escaped the baby contest. But that was before my life turned into a car wreck.
I was tired and thirsty when I reached the mall, so I went straight up to the food court and ordered a thirty-two-ounce soda.
I messaged Coco from there. It was always going to be Coco I told; I don’t know why I left it so long.
My phone battery was in the red by then, and anyway, I didn’t want to say it out loud, so I just typed, snap after snap, all too fast for her to respond to until I was done.
My parents’ argument. The look on Ash’s face and wobble in Aspen’s voice.
How I’ve been lied to my entire life. And how I now have no one.
Of course that’s when Coco told me that I had her.
‘Hey, you got somewhere to be?’ a voice calls out, making me jerk at the sound. ‘Because this parking lot closes soon. You can’t be hanging around here.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ I mumble. ‘Yeah, I’m just leaving.’
The security guard nods, but slowly, like he hasn’t decided whether to believe me yet. ‘Someone picking you up?’
‘I’m getting an Uber,’ I improvise.
‘Okay, well I’ll wait with you until it shows. Not a great idea, you being out here on your own.’
I can tell he’s not going to leave until a cab arrives, so I open the app. I don’t want to go home yet, but I can’t think of another destination, not with the security guard staring at me. So I tap on my address and hate myself for it. How my resolve seems as firm as Jell-O.
Five minutes later, a black sedan draws up next to me.
I give the security guard a half-smile, then slide quickly into the back seat.
But when the driver swivels round to check I’m in okay, our eyes catch.
And hold; a few seconds too long. Eventually he turns back, starts pulling out of the parking lot, some woman singing raspy love songs through the speakers.
But I’m frozen. My breath caught in my chest.
Because in that moment, I saw it.
Recognition. The slimy kind.