“Forget the note and be ready for me tonight. I’m coming to see you,” I call after her as she walks away from me without an acknowledgment.
I watch her disappear around the corner, still holding the note in my hand. I look down, reading it over again. This has to be a joke. No one actually wants to kill her. At least that’s what I tell myself.
Chapter 21
Wren
“Isn’t this stupid?”Letting out a shaky laugh, I finish going through the dresser drawers to make sure nothing is left behind. “It’s not like I ever really liked living here, but I’m sort of sad to leave.”
“Then don’t leave.” Maya zips up the suitcase she loaned me to help with the move. I brought everything here in trash bags and don’t want to show up at the dorm the same way. People already think I’m enough of a joke.
“I really don’t have a choice.” I hate the way that sounds, but it’s true. And it’s a waste of time for me to think otherwise. Every time I tell myself I’m going to get out of this somehow, or that Briggs can’t possibly want anything else to do with me, he finds a way to prove me wrong. All I am doing is breaking my heart. He’s already determined enough to do that for me. I don’t need to help him.
“This is all wrong,” she insists. “What aren’t you telling me? You know you can talk to me, right? You can trust me, no matter what it is.”
“I know. It’s not easy to talk about.” When she won’t stop staring at me with all sorts of expectations, I confess, “It’s Briggs. He’s behind all of it. This is his idea.”
“What? I thought you told me everything. All about what he’s doing to you, how cruel he is. I get it,” she adds in a dark tone that is so unlike her usual bright, sunny voice. “I know what those guys are like. But why would he force you to do something like this?”
I’m so weary all of a sudden. Maybe I have been all this time, but I’ve been forcing myself to ignore it. Her questions are innocent and friendly, but they have the power to break down some of the resolve I’ve built up around myself. I sink to the bed, now stripped and bare, resting my hands in my lap with a defeated sigh. “He wants me there so he can do whatever he wants to me, whenever he wants to.”
“What are you talking about? What haven’t you told me?” There’s fear in hervoice, and I hate to hear it. She sits next to me, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears with trembling hands. “You can tell me.”
So I do. What’s the point of pride? Secrets don’t help anybody, anyway.
I tell her everything. The things he forces me to do. What happened at the party. In the classroom, with his asshole friends, all the humiliation, all the fear, it all comes out of me at once. On one hand, it sort of feels good to open up.
On the other, I feel like shit when I see how horrified Maya is by the time I’m finished. Her face is pale when she asks, “How have you been going through this without… I don’t know, totally losing your shit?”
“I don’t know.” Staring down at my folded hands, I whisper, “So long as you don’t think I’m, you know. Not worth being friends with because of this.”
“I would never think that!” She throws her arms around me in a tight hug. “Not ever, so don’t even think that. I won’t accept it.”
“Okay.” I pull myself together once she lets me go, rolling my shoulders back, taking a deep breath and blowing it out all at once. “Well, now you know.”
“You don’t have to accept this.”
I almost want to laugh, but I stop myself because I know how it feels to be laughed at. Even though I wouldn’t mean it in that way, it could come off all wrong. She’s the last person who would ever deserve that. “I don’t think I have a choice,” I remind her instead. “Every time I tell myself I have some control over my life, he finds a way to prove me wrong.”
“There has to be something. I refuse to believe there’s nothing you can do.” She jumps to her feet, biting her thumbnail as she starts to pace. “What if you change the locks on the door to the room?”
“I don’t think I can do that. It’s not really my property, right? I would have to clear it with the administration, at least, and I really doubt they would be cool with the idea.”
“You’re right.” She continues pacing and muttering to herself before snapping her fingers. “Fine. Then we just install another lock on the door. Like a deadbolt. It’s not that hard,” she insists when my mouth falls open. “I’ve seen my dad do it, and he is not what you’d call a handy sort of guy.”
This time, I have to laugh at the bizarre idea. “I’ve never used a power tool in my life, and I’m pretty sure you need them to do something like that.”
“Which is why YouTube videos exist,” she counters. “You can learn anything on the Internet. We’ll buy some tools, we’ll buy the lock, and we’ll install it on the door ourselves.”
The next thing I know, we’re at the hardware store, with all of my belongings in the back of my car while Maya and I walk up and down the aisles, looking for the items listed in the tutorial she found. “I’ve never bought tools before,” I muse, looking around, a little overwhelmed by all the choices. Who knew there were so many types of screwdrivers?
“Me, neither. There’s a first time for everything, right?” I swear, the girl is unshakable. Determined, too, almost marching from aisle to aisle, asking employees where she can find this or that. I’m fine with hanging back and letting her take thereins. She’s someone I trust, and I’m so tired of having to be on guard all the time. It’s exhausting.
Almost as exhausting as unloading the car and unpacking the suitcase and boxes once we arrive in my dorm room. Unpacking what was left of my things doesn’t take long—for once, I’m glad I don’t have very much. Soon we are standing in front of the door, playing and replaying the video, giving step-by-step instructions on how to install a deadbolt.
It’s confusing at first, but soon we get the hang of it, using a drill to make a new hole, installing the face plate, screwing the deadbolt on. At least it’s quiet on the floor. There aren’t many people hanging around to give us any shit over this. Right now, I’m not sure I would care if anyone did.
By the time we’re finished, we’re both a little sweaty and there’s sawdust all over the place. But we did it. The lock works and, for the first time in a while, I feel secure. “Let’s see you get a key for this lock, you dick,” I mutter to myself as we clean up.
