Chapter 75
Maple
I told you that Ella was dead. What did Maple expect if she was willing to play with fire?
Why did the Uber driver look at me like that? Like he knows me, all of me. I feel sick. Slutty. Even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
When that weirdo shoved chocolates at me, and that sweaty man in Vegas looked at me grossly, and the handsy guy at the baby contest put his arm around me, I assumed they recognized me from YouTube.
But maybe that was wrong. I mean, why would grown men watch a kid’s YouTube channel anyway? Especially when they can see me, all of me, at least a body they think belongs to me, someplace else.
‘Hey, actually could you drop me here?’ I blurt out, suddenly desperate to get away from this dirty old man in his Toyota Prius who thinks he’s seen me naked.
He looks at me in the rearview mirror. ‘You don’t want to complete the journey?’ he asks. ‘It won’t change the charge.’
‘Please. Now. Please stop the car.’
He taps the steering wheel a few times, then brakes and pulls over. ‘I know who you are, you know.’
I fumble with the door handle.
‘I’m not sure it’s safe for you out there. A girl like you on her own at night.’
A girl like you.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I stutter. I step out onto the sidewalk.
He waits for a few seconds, then accelerates off, and I feel like I’ve both escaped a monster and been abandoned by an adult.
I’m next to the highway, so it’s not quiet or remote, but it is almost dark now.
Cars rush past, but their headlights face forward, no one noticing the kid hovering with nowhere to go.
Except of course I do have somewhere to go, if I choose to.
A bedroom with its own en-suite in a plush house in one of Provo’s nicest neighborhoods.
I’m lucky compared to so many girls my age.
Girls exploited by disgusting men for real, like whoever’s body is being used with my face on the dark web.
Because those photos come from somewhere. Even if they’re AI generated now, the technology only works because someone took a picture of a naked child and made it public. And not one, but thousands. Children exploited by vile men all over the world.
Fucking, skanky, disgusting pedophiles.
Well, maybe I’m done with it. With feeling ashamed, and scared, and guilty, when it’s not my fault.
None of our faults. And I’m done with my parents too, for lying to me for fourteen years, then shouting the news out from the poolside because they’ve got some points to score. Like my feelings don’t count.
Fuck them all.
And fuck risk too, because I’m going to Vegas.
I’m going to find Ella and tell her that I know exactly how she feels, about all of it.
Being sexually abused by thousands of men without even knowing about it, having parents who never put you first, trying to be the girl everyone else wants you to be, and feeling bad for hating it.
And I’ll tell her how badly I need her. That I won’t be able to get through all this without her.
I open TikTok. Shit, I’ve only got two percent battery left on my phone. I quickly find Brandoninthesky and send him a message while I still can.
I’m coming to find Ella. I’ll be on the first bus out of Provo tomorrow morning. Meet me at that bus station, like you said.
I press send and watch my phone die.
I stare at the dead, black screen. But instead of feeling scared of having no way to communicate, I feel free. Because no one can make demands on me now. No ‘get ready with me’ videos to record, or comments to respond to, or Mom making me feel guilty for never being enough.
It’s just me, and a tiny glimmer of hope in Vegas.
I know the next bus is a Greyhound leaving Provo tomorrow morning at 7.
50 a.m. because I checked the schedule after Brandon messaged me earlier.
Before Mom and Dad sent me spiraling. It means I’ll have to spend the night at Provo Central Station, which isn’t ideal, especially without a working phone.
But I’m not doing this because it’s easy.
I turn in the direction of the main bus station and start walking.