Page 48

The comedown always made the regret worse.

At first, Nell had kept the promise to herself that it was a one-time-only thing, but Tina was persistent.

Once Nell had four drinks in her, overheard one of the guys talking about their potential record deal again, and Barrett was pulled away to be introduced to some people, Tina slid in at the right moment and had the cure to that darkness swirling inside of Nell.

And it was so nice. Everything was so nice. It was so nice to have a new friend, someone who she could giggle with and gossip with and spin around in her high with.

Plus, when she thought about having a new girlfriend, it didn’t hurt for about thirty minutes. And when the guilt started to creep its way back, all she had to do was follow Tina into the restroom and do it all over again.

But at the end of every night, every weekend, she’d fall into bed in Barrett’s arms, and the vivid dreams would wreak havoc on her until the morning.

Sometimes, her nose would ache, and she’d get a nosebleed at random times in the day, which made Barrett worry.

Or at night, which left stains on her pillow.

On the drive back Monday morning, while squeezing Barrett’s hand and having only his reassuring smile to comfort her during the difficult hour, her other hand would be in her pocket, curled around a small baggie Tina brought her as a “gift” after every show for the past few weekends.

It was fine if Barrett didn’t know. He didn’t seem to mind when she was happy, watching him play and dancing and making a new friend.

He even commented, as he pulled her onto his chest one night, on how well she was fitting in, how happy he was that she was really opening up, and how much better she was doing lately.

So if it made him happy and it made her feel normal for thirty minutes at a time, then it wasn’t a bad thing.

Plus, she didn’t want to ruin moments like these with just the two of them sitting in the booth at the diner on a Tuesday afternoon, his foot tapping against hers to the beat of the retro tune playing over the speaker. He studied the menu while she studied him over the top of hers.

“You’re in a good mood today,” she commented, noting his smile.

“I’m always in a good mood with you.” He looked up at her, grinning. “And I have a perfect view from here.”

Aside from music, Barrett’s other major talent was flirting. It didn’t matter how much time she spent with him; she never got used to how easily the smooth-talking came. She was once a force at flirting herself, but it’d been a while.

“Really?” She casually flipped the menu over, pretending she was reading through her options. “I was thinking you’re too far away.”

She tried to keep a straight face, avoiding his eyes, as she wondered how he would respond to her attempt to flirt better than he could.

There was a soft shifting, and when she finally looked up, she found him leaning against the table, face inches from her. Her eyes went wide.

“How’s that?” he asked, his gaze shifting between her eyes before dropping to her mouth. “Close enough for you?”

Nell’s heart jumped in her chest. “Not yet.” She finished off the few extra inches and pressed her mouth to his for a short moment before leaning back out of his reach and grinning. “Much better.”

He sat back down, his mouth crooked as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. His foot tapped against hers again, and before he could respond, the waitress appeared to take their order.

* * *

Nell walked into the house, smiling to herself as she tried to close the door soft enough not to alert her parents of her arrival.

Nothing had been the same since that day in the restaurant almost a month ago.

Their conversations were dead. Nell couldn’t stand to look at them, no matter how much they tried to get her to pretend everything was normal.

The little life that had returned to the house had been blown out like a candle. Nell could smell the liquid wax and hazy smoke still lingering when she was in there, as fresh as the day it happened.

She just couldn’t let it go. No matter how much they wanted her to.

But today, it smelled like fresh flame, burning and angry.

She walked around the corner to pass the living room and found her parents standing there, staring.

Anger and disbelief and fear and accusation crossed their expressions. Nell’s stomach sank.

“How long has this been happening?”

Like that, she knew.

Just by the redness of her father’s face and the placid pallor of her mother, she knew her little secrets had come to light.

It smacked her in the face, and she knew. Just like that. Part of her had expected it to happen eventually.

The clock on the wall ticked the seconds by, oblivious to the storm festering around it in the silence.

She didn’t know what to say. But, at the same time, she didn’t feel she had to. She swallowed hard.

“Mrs. Dubois said she saw you in the window at the diner with one of those boys. She said . . . she said you . . . kissed him.” Her mother’s hands wrung together nervously, and she laughed weakly like it was a joke. When no one else laughed, the painful attempt slid away. “It isn’t true, right?”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“It’s none of your business,” Nell said, wishing it came out confident. It was difficult to hear herself over the rush in her ears.

Her dad flinched, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into confirmed rage. “I didn’t want to believe it. Devil worshipers, Janelle. Satanists .” His face twisted like the word was sour as he spit it in her face. “No daughter of mine will ever associate with them.”

She shook her head, her own temper rising to mirror his. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re wrong—”

It was like he couldn’t hear her. He continued on without pause, talking through her. “I should have known. You’ve been falling away from us, hiding away for days at a time. Leaving us worried sick. What are they doing to you?”

“They’re not—”

“You’ve been tainted by him. What has he done?”

“You aren’t even—”

“He’s destroyed you.”

“He saved me!” Nell’s scream seemed to shake the house, then settle it into an unnatural pause. Even the clock held its breath.

No one would interrupt her now.

Her breaths were ragged, her hands shaking.

“They saved me. They saw me when no one else could. You have no right to speak about him like that. You think I’m destroyed?

He fixed me. I can get in a car now. Did Mrs. Dubois tell you that?

Did she tell you that I can sit in a car and drive for hours at a time now?

Did she tell you that he holds my hand and helps me through it?

Did she? Or how about the fact that they are the only ones in this entire fucked-up place who look at me like I’m sane?

If that is what it means to worship the Devil or stray from God, then I would rather be in Hell than this home. ”

Nell was laughing. And crying.

Her voice was high-pitched and hoarse. Tears streamed through her delirious grin, and the salt sliding into her mouth kept her grounded against the threatening escape of her mind.

Her right hand slid into her coat pocket, wrapping around the baggie inside for comfort.

Her mother sobbed into her hands.

“Well then.” Her father’s voice was dangerously calm, low and steady, his face as pale as her mother’s. “If that is the case, you have no place here anymore.”

Nell blinked.

“George.” Her mother gasped, halting her wails in shock.

“Right.” Nell had no reason to argue. Her childhood room had long since felt like a stranger, the hallways an ever-changing maze. “That’s something we can agree on.”

Nell pushed past them into her room, taking only minutes to stuff the necessities into the weekend bag she already had.

Her mother weakly objected but couldn’t stop crying long enough to get anything useful out. Her father said nothing as he watched from her doorway like a warden assigned to escort her away for trespassing.

She did so without complaint, or objection, or force. She walked out, got on her bike, and left.