I turn and stare down the darkened street with Sam. He’s right—there’s no one here. It’s completely empty except for the tattered remains of my prom dress. The sequins scattered along the ground are the only remaining evidence of my attack.
“I think you’re gonna need a new dress, Lacey,” Sam says with a chuckle before turning and heading back to his car. “Come on, let’s grab some dinner.”
He can laugh it off, but I know what I saw. There’s someone out there, someone with evil intent. Someone is hunting down potential Sunnyvale High prom queens. And they want me dead.
JESSICA
Call Me by Blondie
Ilook at the pile of dishes left inside the sink wondering how we accumulate so many. It’s not like my mother is constantly cooking, we practically live off TV dinners. Which reminds me I need to warm up the last one for Tommy.
My stomach growls in disapproval. I’m hungry too, but he’s a growing boy and needs to eat. He also needs an adult that actually puts time into being a parent, instead of being someone’s girl.
However, that train has long left the station, our mother is who she is and there’s no changing that, unfortunately. I turn away from the mess and clutter on the sink and counters. Moving towards the stained yellow fridge, and opening it, I grab the last TV dinner—Salisbury steak, mash, and a some sad attemptat chocolate brownie.
I can hear Tommy fuss about being hungry and wondering where’s mom off to again. I don’t reply. Instead, I rip open the packaging and place the container inside the microwave, taking mental notes to clean it again. There’s thick, greasy chunks coating the inside, and the tray is as dirty as every crevice in this house.
After waiting for a few minutes, the microwave finally beeps. The sound pulls me from my dissociation as I stare at the empty and overgrown backyard. The weather is so fucking shitty out. Just as I press the button that opens the door, a high pitch rings startles me. “Fuck,” I mutter, unsure as to why I’m so jumpy today.
I mean, it could have to do with the fact that some prom nominees have been killed, while the rest wait, wondering who’s next. The phone continues to ring until I pick it up from the base and place it to my ear. The sound of loud uneven breathing fills my ear, making the hair in the back of my neck rise with each exhale. “Hello,” I finally muster the courage to say, but nothing, just more breathing.
It honestly creeps me out. Quickly, I slam the phone back into its base. “Is dinner ready yet?” Tommy asks from somewhere in the living room. Just as I open my mouth to respond, the phone rings again. This time I don’t answer until it rings again right after ending. Fear turns into frustration, and I snatch the phone back up, placing it to my ear. “Play with your mother, not with me. Fuck off…”
“Jeez, this is how you greet people. You could just say hello.” Trish's familiar voice instantly relaxes me. My body slumps into the wall. “Hey, how did you get this number?”
She chuckles. “It’s not that hard to find Steve’s number. The guy gives it to practically anyone.”
My finger curls around the curly phone cord. “Yeah, I guess… So, what’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking we should hang out.” The way she says it makes heat bloom through me, causing my pussy to instantly throb with need. It’s been days since my hook up with Sam and that was a mistake. He has a girlfriend and a weird twin sister that clings too close. Why couldn’t I have a little fun?
I deserve something that doesn't feel like I’m stealing.
“Sure, but I’m currently on babysitting duty,” I breathe out, hearing her laugh on the other end. “How old is he again?”
“Fifteen. As long as he’s fed and in his room, I’m all yours.”
“I can work with that.” Her voice deepens into a seductive purr. “See you in thirty.” With that, the call ends, just in time for Tommy to poke his head into the kitchen and shoot me a death glare.
“Food?”
Shit…
Placing the phone back on the base, I quickly turn, only to find my brother already zeroing on his food. The smell has my stomach churning painfully from hunger, and scanning the kitchen, I find a loaf of bread and a sigh escapes my lips.
Tommy begins to dig into his food. “It’s still so cold,” he complains.
I shrug. “Take it up with the microwave, kiddo.”
He doesn’t, instead he rolls his eyes and carries onstuffing his face, while I attempt to make bread and butter. After grabbing the butter from the fridge, the phone rings again. One time, then it stops. I shoot a look at Tommy who looks to me like deer caught in headlights when the phone rings again. “You gonna get that?”
No, I want to respond… But instead, I nod. “Sure thing,” I say with fake enthusiasm even though my pulse spikes and I can hear it hammer in my ears.
“Jess, are you sick?” Tommy's muffled question has me looking at him.
With a shake of my head, I respond, “No, I'm just tired of answering the phone.” He hums in agreement as he scarfs down the remaining mash and gravy. Begrudgingly, I take a bite of my butter sandwich, hating the chewy texture of the bread and the clunky, uneven bits of butter, before bringing the phone back into my ear. “Trish?”
Nothing…
