Page 6

The ceiling always looked a bit fuzzy when she stared at it for long periods.

The outer corners felt like they were closing in when she focused on one designated spot of the popcorn ceiling, and when the space was close to being consumed by some invisible darkness, Nell would blink, and it would start over.

She could go like that for hours. She had gone like that for hours.

Her parents would knock every now and then and ask if she wanted lunch, or to go shopping with her mother since that used to be her favorite thing, but after a couple of minutes of prodding and that darkness filling the corners, they would give up and leave her to her staring.

Her mom came in an hour—or a few—ago and opened the curtains, hoping the summer sunlight would get Nell up and moving.

It did not.

Summer used to be her favorite season, filled with escaping school and driving around with friends late at night.

Back then, the sun didn’t make her wince.

Now, she’d rather stay at home, curled up in bed.

Leaving the house, even her bedroom, had become a challenge.

Surviving those final months to graduation had been a miracle, aided by her parents’ influence.

Her anxiety, however, remained unrelenting. Even her staring wasn’t as calming as it usually was. A try at napping failed, and anxious waves pummeled her.

One second, she was staring blankly above; the next, she was caught in the burst of short-of-breath panic that red and blue flashing lights were going to appear outside her window.

Because of Scott Barrett.

In the couple of days or so since their encounter—she’d lost track of time—he still hadn’t called the cops on her.

Worried, she’d blown through all the cigarettes, and without any more, her fingers fidgeted at her side and her tongue felt heavy. Her mind was weak—weaker than usual. The cigarettes were helping less than they normally did.

The fear crept up on her every few moments, and she needed relief.

She didn’t know Barrett well enough to understand what his reaction to catching someone shoplifting would be. She had just assumed he would call the cops. But maybe he wasn’t that kind of person.

Not knowing made it all that much worse.

The corners of the ceiling crept in once again, but before they could reach the center, she sat up quickly.

She winced against the sunlight from her window, as if it had just been opened, and wiped her hands over her eyes. She geared up to untangle herself from the covers and change into some new clothes.

Those cigarettes couldn’t wait anymore. She needed them now. Sitting around expecting lawful guests wasn’t helping.

She didn’t bother telling her parents she was leaving. They wouldn’t notice unless they entered her room, which they likely wouldn’t try again until dinner time.

She stepped into the late-afternoon summer heat.

The mid-July sun beat on her with its might as she walked down the hill from her house. It didn’t take long for sweat to start to prickle through her skin, dampening the high-waisted denim shorts she’d cut herself out of old pants.

This wouldn’t be an issue if she hadn’t lost her bike.

Well, she didn’t actually lose it. She’d dropped it on the ground and run away from it. It was abandonment.

Truthfully, the whole scenario was a blur lost in the panic and rain. She didn’t remember a whole lot other than running out of the store because Barrett caught her and she was so scared he would call the cops that she fled. She hadn’t stuck around to see what happened to her bike.

But maybe Barrett knew.

Her parents had offered to buy her a new one, but she told them not to bother. She could just walk, but really, she needed that bike. Gemsburg might be small, but walking everywhere was a pain, especially when she was as shaky and fidgety as she was.

This was the first time she’d been out since the incident. She wouldn’t say she had been avoiding the store, per se, but she wasn’t eager to pass by.

With a reason, however, she would have to go back to figure out where her bike was. But more than that, Barrett had something else of value to her.

More than a bike, he had the perfect way to get over this awful, draining feeling that cigarettes and shots of whiskey were becoming useless against.

With that idea sparked in her mind, she wasn’t so afraid to head into town and toward the music store.

She walked into the store, and the bell rang above the door like the time before.

Neither of the two customers paid her any mind, too busy flicking through records or listening to some newly released cassette on their headphones.

A quiet Prince song played on the radio, and her attention pulled to the red wood guitar.

She reminded herself she wasn’t here to browse or stuff anything in her pocket again.

She spun toward the counter instead.

The same employee as before sat at the counter. His thick black curls hung over his tan face as he turned to the next page of his comic book. Barrett wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Nell steeled herself and marched forward, but the employee didn’t bother looking up from his story.

She waited for him to acknowledge her, but he just flipped to the next page. She flicked the bell that said Ring here for service three times.

He sighed and looked up. His nonchalant annoyance melted as his eyes widened and he froze.

Wait, she knew this guy.

He was one of the kids who’d followed Barrett around in school.

She wasn’t that familiar with Barrett and his friends, but they were hard to forget.

Most of the time, you couldn’t help noticing them when you were in the same room.

They spent their time being loud: playing loud music, making loud jokes, voicing loud opinions.

They even dressed louder than the ordinary person around here.

Nell had spent half the time scared of them and the other half envious.

Yet here she was.

“Hi . . .” She peeked at his nametag. “Antonio,” she read aloud, and his mouth opened but nothing came out. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Is Barrett here?”

Antonio did nothing but stare at her.

She looked around, hoping Barrett would appear and spare her from this, but he still wasn’t anywhere to be found. Begrudgingly, she turned back to Antonio.

He finally shifted a bit, looking her up and down, and a disbelieving smile lifted his face. “Ho-ly shit.”