Page 55 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter thirty-nine

Payton

Itried college today. I went to practice, did most of my missing assignments. I step out of the Uber and walk up the porch steps to the trashy trailer I moved back into. I say nothing. Mum tells me to stay in the dorms but there is no way I’m staying there.

Clearly the videos and pictures Brody posted are still trending on his stupid dirty laundry website.

My phone won’t stop blowing up. Every five minutes, someone else is calling me from an unknown number.

I’m mortified. I’m going to have to live with being an easy S-L-U-T, even though I’m a virgin.

If I change my number I’ll have to start spilling the tea to Mum, and I don’t want to fess up to a damned thing.

The disappointment in her eyes is the last thing I need.

Rey lounges on the couch. He’s wearing one of his cutoff shirts and a black pair of shorts that were popular for maybe thirty seconds in the 80s.

He’s smoking and watching whatever show he likes best out of the thirteen channels they get for free from the old satellite on the roof.

It usually went to Judge Judy, and at some point, the Local News will be on.

Rey doesn’t say anything to me. He just takes in a long drag of his cigarette, and I scurry down the narrow hallway to my room.

I tidy up, make my bed, and wash a hundred pounds of laundry.

Scrambling through my bathroom, I flip on the light thinking there is no logical way my life has become this bad.

I put my toiletries in pleasant spots on the counter with the pit of my stomach falling on the floor knowing I don’t want to go back to that campus.

At the dining table, I spend some time on the computer working on assignments and the math program that guides me through the algebra questions. Ryder helped me so much before, and helped me bring up my grade, but now it’s slipping again.

After a good hour, Mum pulls up in the driveway in her Mustang, pissed off with her day.

The purse is tossed onto the counter. A lighter snaps over a cigarette wedged between her index and middle finger.

A glass of wine is filled to the brim in her other hand and she twirls it around, smelling its potency.

She grew up in the 80s, with voluminous curls teased and sprayed into place.

Her attitude and annoyance still resonate with the time frame.

So does her metallic lip gloss and the blue eyeshadow melting off her face from a horrid day at work.

“You’re still here?” She scrunches her lips inhaling a drag of her cigarette and blowing out a puff of smoke. Her threatening eyes tell me she’ll find a belt in less than two seconds, and beat the demons out of me if she needs to. “Payt... you’re eighteen.”

“I know.” I stare at the bright computer screen, thinking the little fan humming will dull out the inevitable.

“You can’t stay here forever. Most kids your age wouldn’t be coming back to Mum’s.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a lot going on.”

“Well, Rey and I were talking. Dodie is selling her beetle, and we think maybe getting a car would encourage you to leave the house.”

“The old cat ladies car?”

“Yes, she legally can’t drive anymore – she’s going blind.

We’ll have the title ready for you tomorrow.

Now excuse me, I’ve had an atrocious day.

” Mum disappears to the patio in one of the old white lawn chairs, drinking her wine and inhaling her cigarettes.

She flicks the ash off and keeps blackening her lungs. Rey follows and sits next to her.

My phone flashes on the table, and when I slide it over. It’s my long lost cousin's name flashing on the screen.. I swipe right, seeing the three little dots on the bottom of the screen showing me she’s typing.

Phoebe: Hey girl!

Phoebe: How’s it going?

Payton: I dunno... I left college and I’m back in my bat cave.

Phoebe: You’ll be whiter than a ghost if you keep hiding in there.

Payton: Yeah...

Phoebe: What’s going on? Why are you back in that damn trailer, it smells.

Payton: I fucked up.

Phoebe: How?

Payton: I dunno...

Phoebe: You’re kidding me. You’re not going to tell me?

Payton: It’s a long story, and I don’t feel like typing it all out.

Phoebe: Have you watched any TV or looked at the news?

Payton: No

Phoebe: Don’t freak out. Your friend hit the local news. If you haven’t read the news you probably shouldn’t.

I dismiss her warning about looking at the news and immediately scroll through my news feed.

It’s lost and embedded in my everyday notifications, but finally I see it – a young female at GCU has gone missing.

Charlie's senior year picture stares at me through the screen.

Her curls, the grey eyes she shares with her brother, the dimples.

The only girl in the universe that can be a complete “mean girl”– but still make sure I comb my hair before leaving the house – has the official “missing” label.

CHARLOTTE HENDERSON MISSING

Charlotte Henderson was last seen after an assault at a local concert venue. Her whereabouts are unknown at this time. Law enforcement is asking the community to call the police department if anyone has any information about the incident.

Phoebe: Payton...

Payton: She’s missing???? Oh my god!

Phoebe: Don’t freak out. She’ll turn up.

Payton: I fucked up. It’s all my fault. I lied to Charlie!

Phoebe: You lied?

Payton: I was sleeping with Ryder...

Phoebe: O.M.G he took your virginity?

Payton: This is all my fault. None of this would have happened if I just told her the truth to begin with.

Phoebe: It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t be moving back in with your Mum. Pack your bags, bitch, you’re staying here.

Within an hour, Phoebe rolls up into the driveway with her headlights beaming through the windows.

The night is dark, and she’s a shadow walking up the steps and breaking into the trailer.

I’m a pure replica of her. If we were sisters we’d be twins, but born five years apart.

The long brown hair, the freckles on the nose, and big-big blue eyes.

It’s grandad’s genes. We grab my duffle bag and pack it in the trunk before she kidnaps me.

On the drive to her house, she tells me to spill and everything comes up.

Dirty Roulette, stealing booze from Mr. Clorox, and landing on Ryder the moment he walked in.

Kissing him, then it turned into us messing around, how he made every atom of my body come alive, and catching feelings like it’s the flu.

When it comes down to the concert, all of it seems to click into Phoebe’s head. The second I mention the two football players harassing me in the hallways, and the photos of me getting posted online. She loses it.

“You realize Brody is breaking the law. Hazing is illegal, and that’s exactly what he did. He hazed you guys.” She peels into the driveway, fighting with the gears and putting her car in park.

“Yeah...” I say and unbuckle myself. Phoebe shuts off the engine, and it winds down and there is nothing but the sound of crickets and still air.

“Why didn’t you just tell Charlie you were dating her brother? Lying never gets you anywhere.”

“I dunno... it was stupid. I figured she would hate me entirely if I had a thing for him.”

“It’s so common for best friends to fall for the older brother. That’s such a cliché in society.” She huffs and flashes me a pitiful smile. “You really liked Ryder, didn’t you?” she asks, shuffling around to grab her purse she threw in the back seat.

“I still do...”

“Well, let’s make tea. We have leftovers you can eat. A shower and sleep will do you some good. I can drive you to the campus tomorrow.” She opens the car door before climbing out.

***

The next morning, I plop down on the dining room table. Dried food is caked on the scraped wood, and half-eaten mushy cereal is left unattended by the two toddlers running the house like a mob boss.

Phoebe sits hunched over, scrolling through her phone with disheveled hair and the droopy eyes of pure motherhood exhaustion. She nurtures her coffee, sipping on it.

“How did you sleep?” she asks.

“Rolled over on some legos, but otherwise okay, I guess. Definitely better than at my Mum’s.”

She smiles slightly, “I’ll never get over that New York State accent of yours.” She puckers her lips and nods her head. “Fair enough though...” She slurps on her coffee, as the twin girls argue over some toy car. “I don’t think you should quit college.”

“Kinda hard not to...”

“But then you let this Brody asshole win. Do you realize how many celebs have leaked sex tapes?”

“Yeah, but they are famous. They still make money and profit from it. I had to turn off my phone last night. Guys are disgusting. I had some voicemail of some sicko jerking his shit.”

“Lovely.” Phoebe lifts a brow.

How do I put my feet back on the ground? Cops can’t do shit when it comes to the internet. Once it’s posted, it’s like the needle and ink of a tattoo. It’s permanent. I can scrub it and tear my flesh off, but it’s not going away.

“At some point, it will catch up with that asshole. He’s gonna mess with the wrong person and they’re gonna tear him to pieces.”

“Yeah... Well. I guess I’ll go shower. Do you mind driving me back in a little bit?”

“Yeah. I’ll take you.” She smiles.

We leave within forty-five minutes. I keep a low profile and stay in the vicinity of people and security. Cops are still all over campus. No matter where I went, one was talking to students, holding a photograph of Charlie.

I try to focus, but my brain refuses to think straight. Nothing can remove the knife lodged in my chest. Nothing feels normal or the same. It’s all backwards. I try to figure out when I died and was put into another reality to finish my mission on this stupid planet I’ve been cursed to.