Page 35

Dallas

Normally, I don’t look forward to long plane rides. I also never pay the exorbitant fees for internet access, but this time, I have work to do.

Neither Colson or I speak of what he told me that first night in Gunnison. It’s also debatable how much of it he remembers. I also don’t tell AJ because the thought of having to try and explain that my brother’s a stalker and I have to use his prey to lure him back home to help me destroy our sister’s murderer is completely batshit. Oh yeah, and I’m going to do it by stalking her, too.

It's best not to think about it too deeply.

But ethics and morality aside, I have a name and a photo and it doesn’t take me long to track down Brett Sorensen’s Internet presence—or lack thereof.

It’s probably because of my dumbass brother.

She has a couple of social media profiles that are set to Private, but it doesn’t look like she’s very active on them anyway. There is, however, a networking profile with a much more recent photo of her that lists her employer as a research and development firm. And it would appear that she’s still local.

This might be easier than I thought.

I’m in the middle of building my electronic dossier when Aiden sends me an encrypted link with no message. I open it and feel a rush of excitement when I see the blue dot on a map with the location of Bowen’s vehicle.

I’m glad that Aiden agreed to help me. I don’t relish asking him for anything, but truth be told, I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of finding Bowen myself and figuring out how to track him. I was able to confirm that Bowen rarely takes his dirt bike out, so putting the GPS on his vehicle was the best way to track his movements. And he lives roughly 30 minutes away, so he’s not taking a walk around campus on the regular. This is how I convince myself to step outside my house every day.

And, to my surprise, he hasn’t come near the city since I saw him and his oblivious date during my last shift at work. I’m not sure why, but I’ll take any reprieve the universe throws at me. I’ve cut down on my hours anyway with the approach of finals and applying for internships.

Granted, if I keep having good nights like I do once I arrive back home, maybe I’ll just quit Blood Horse before I draw any more unwanted attention from Ron.

“You should quit anyway,” AJ replies after my long-winded explanation of the precautions I’m taking to minimize my chances of running into Bowen. “Even if your brother’s criminal friend has your back.”

“I don’t know that I’d say he has my back,” I chuckle. “He’s just a broken man with his own issues. I’m not sure he’d do much else for me. And what am I supposed to do, lock myself in my house until I graduate?”

“No way, you’ll be busy showing me around town after GalactiCon. And who knows, with the way things are going, maybe they’ll invite you next year.”

I adjust my glowing purple mask, recentering the foam strip against my forehead. “People have been asking me about doing a collab, you know.”

“With who?”

“You,” I snicker.

“ Really? ” His voice hitches with intrigue. “But don’t you think that would be kind of…humiliating?”

“For you? Absolutely.”

I catch a glimpse of AJ’s bright white teeth through his mask when he smiles, “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll hype you up until GalactiCon, and then we’ll talk.”

“Do you mean hype or do you mean shit-talk? ”

Regardless, it’s actually a pretty good offer since AJ has a substantial following. And maybe him shit-talking me to all his followers would garner more excitement.

“Why would I shit-talk one of my close, personal friends?”

“That’s nice, but I’ve never even seen your face.”

“Are you afraid I’m repulsive?”

“Are you?”

AJ sets down his controller and reaches down for the hem of his shirt. With one hand, he pulls it up to the bottom of his chest and with the other, hooks his thumb in the waist of his pants and pulls it down enough to expose the V of his hips.

Usually, it’s difficult to convey emotion from behind a mask, but this is the first time I’ve been truly grateful AJ can’t see my face. If he could, he’d see my eyes bugging out of my head and my jaw hanging open like a trout. My eyes move down his torso, the glow of his monitor only accentuating the contours of his abs in excruciating detail.

“ BALLSACKS! ”

I nearly toss my controller in the air and tumble off my chair onto the floor when I notice Shelby off to the side, gawking at my screen. AJ releases his shirt and lets it fall back over his torso, then he raises his hand, making a show of waving to Shelby.

Shelby leans over me, crowding into the frame. “If she doesn’t want you, I’ll take you!” she calls as I shove her away.

“Get out!” I gasp through laughter.

“Your friend’s cute,” AJ drawls.

“Shut up,” I retort, giving him the biggest eyeroll he’ll never see.

“Is this what you do in here every night?” Shelby grins. “Do you cam girl on the side?”

“No!” I squeal.

“ Oh, ” she gives a dramatic eyeroll, “so you just cam for each other, is that it?”

I hear a faint clicking sound in my headset and then realize that AJ’s laughing. Through the dim light, I see his shoulders shaking against the back of his chair.

“ Can I help you? ” I hiss.

“Yeah, answer your fucking texts,” Shelby tamps down her laughter. “We’re about to watch Halo , do you want us to wait for you?”

I glance at the screen and hesitate, chewing the inside of my cheek. I do want to watch it, but I also don’t want to log off yet.

“It’s OK, go ahead and start without me. I’ll be down later.”

Shelby glances at my screen with a devious smile and leans into the camera, giving a salacious wave before prancing back out of the room.

“Can’t wait to meet your roommates,” AJ quips.

An unexpected wave of butterflies rolls through my stomach. I know we’re going to meet soon, but it’s still so surreal. For three years, we’ve been long-distance friends— faceless long-distance friends—and I’m trying my hardest to remember that and not let what happened with Bowen ruin everything.

He wants to ruin everything.

“ Anyway, ” I turn my attention back to the screen, “a lot of people have jacked bodies and ratchet faces. You could prove me wrong by showing me your face now. ”

“Whatever,” AJ scoffs. “I could look like Jason Voorhees and you’d still be weak for me.”

Jesus…

He’s been saying a lot more things like this lately, ever since I threatened to stop talking to him and he suddenly told me he was coming to GalactiCon. He doesn’t seem like the type to act impulsively, but for some reason, my ultimatum seems to have spurred him to action.

“Just take off your mask,” I sigh.

“No.”

“Why not? I’ll take off mine.”

“Yeah, you will,” he drawls.

“Can’t you be serious?”

The answer is no, because there’s never been a reason for him, or I for that matter, to be serious about anything.

“I was serious when I said you’d see my face in person, and that’s it.”

Because you have something to hide?

It’s no use, I still can’t completely shake the suspicion, no matter how hard I try.

“This is who we are on the cameras,” AJ continues, “and when we see each other in person for the first time, everything will change.”

“Why? Because my stellar image of you will be totally blown?”

It seems a little extreme and I’m not sure what he means when he says things will change , like something so drastic will happen that it’ll alter our lives forever. Like there’s no going back.

“I don’t know where you get the nerve, anyway,” he adds, “asking me to take off my clothes when I barely know you.”

“That is such bullshit!” I snap. “Like you haven’t seen me practically naked on camera!”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he changes the subject, “what’s that necklace you always wear?”

My hand immediately finds the amethyst pendant resting on my sternum.

“It’s not from some other dude you play games with, is it?”

“No,” I laugh. “But it is from a guy. He gave it to me a long time ago.”

“I don’t like that, ” AJ replies with an edge, “you wearing jewelry from another man.”

“Jealous?” I sneer, “I didn’t know I needed your approval. Are you my boyfriend now?”

As if I would need AJ’s permission for anything. He’s seen me annihilate player after player, wearing nothing but this mask and some pasties, and suddenly he takes issue with a tiny necklace he’s never noticed until tonight?

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, even if you are, I’ll wear what I want.”

“We’ll see.” His tone turns smug. “So, if this guy’s not with you, then where the hell is he?”

“I don’t know, he might be…” I trail off, hesitant to say what I’m about to say.

“Might be what?”

There is no might . I heard it straight from Colson’s mouth.

“ Dead. ”

I cringe to myself as it rolls off my tongue. It seems like so long ago, but simultaneously like it was just yesterday. It was a couple of weeks that felt like a hurricane—a tornado inside a hurricane—and then it was over. He hit me like a tidal wave one day, then school ended, he left, and I stayed. That was that. I never heard from Alex again.

Alex…

I don’t say his name and I don’t talk about him to anyone. I guess that’s what happens when you have a secret love; he only exists to you and no one else. And when he leaves, it’s like he never existed.

“But you don’t know?” AJ asks.

“It’s what my brother said.”

“I can see why you wear it then,” AJ says gently.

A chill skitters up my spine, the chaotic emotion threatening to overwhelm me.

“Well,” I take a breath and try to tamp them down, “then why don’t you give me something to wear?” I tease.

“Maybe I will,” AJ replies with a tilt of his head.

And that’s where he leaves it, before he continues vanquishing dragons and fighting bosses like we do every other night we play together. I don’t think much of it until the next day when I get a text from him while I’m walking to class.

AJ (10:42AM): I got you something.

ME (10:45AM): What for?

AJ (10:46AM): To keep you interested until GalactiCon.

ME (10:46AM): What is it?

AJ (10:47AM): Something pretty for you to wear. Send me an address and let me know when you get it.

I don’t give AJ my real address. I don’t think he’s Bowen, but that gnawing feeling in the back of my mind still gives me pause. No one is completely safe anymore.

Instead, I give him the department address at school. And, a couple of days later, as expected, I get an email from the admin in the Computer Science and Engineering Department letting me know that a package arrived for me. As soon as I get out of Interactive Systems, I head for the mail room next to the copiers.

It’s a small box, and to my disappointment, AJ knows how to maintain his anonymity even through the mail. The return address is from somewhere in New York, but it’s obviously a business address. I can’t stand the suspense and grab a box cutter from the supply shelf. After slashing the tape on each edge, I start digging my nails into the cardboard.

And when I rip the flaps open, I freeze.

“ What the fuck… ” I murmur, taking another look at the contents inside the box.

Did I really just have a box of purple sparkly butt plugs and a bottle of lube sent to my department at school?

Quickly, I close the box, tuck it into my bag, and hurry out of the room. But I can’t help but laugh when I think about whether Dr. Silcox, who is probably old enough to have sent argumentative letters to Einstein, has any idea that a box containing a butt plug set was sitting on the shelf next to his replacement motherboards. Perish the thought.

I’m not even through the front lobby before I decide to call AJ.

“Hello?” he answers in his usual deep monotone.

“Why did you send me these?”

“Because I can give you fancy gifts, too,” AJ replies. “And because I’m going to see you at GalactiCon in a few days. Until then, you’re going to use them, and when we finally meet, you’re going to be ready for me to fuck you in that gorgeous ass. Because that’s all I’ve wanted to do since the first time you asked me to play with you.”

I come to a dead halt in the middle of the sidewalk. Once the initial shock subsides, a tingling sensation immediately takes its place, feeling like a thousand spiders crawling through my stomach and down my thighs. That’s what he’s been thinking since we met through two screens three years ago? I should probably be offended, revolted, completely turned off by his brazen declaration.

But I’m not.

“What if I don’t?” I ask. “How are you going to know?”

“Because it’s really going to hurt when it’s me inside you for the first time instead of a little silicone toy.”

Damn. I guess there is no cheating when ass-fucking is involved.

“It’s your ass, darling. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

I’ll bet you are.

“Fine,” I sigh with feigned nonchalance. “What do I do?”

“Pick the smallest one and soak it in lube, then do the same with your ass. Get messy. Then turn on some porn and put it in.”

I don’t know why, but for some reason I didn’t expect it to be so straight-forward. Then again, how many times have I considered the best way to shove something up my ass?

“Maybe you should video-call me when you do,” I can’t see him, but I can hear the amusement in his voice, “in case you need me to talk you through it.”

“Mm-hm, so kind of you.”

Fucking asshole…

Oh, wait, that’s what he’ll be doing to me if all goes well.

“OK, what do I do after it’s in?”

“Get yourself off as many times as possible. I promise you’ll get addicted.”

There’s a pause before I hear AJ’s voice again.

“Leave the video on for that, too.”

●●●

“Are you on track to graduate next year?” Scott asks as he flips the kababs on the grill.

I can always count on Scott to interrogate me on my academic progress, just like I can guarantee there will always be some sort of meat cooking while he does so.

“I better be,” I reply, reaching for the platter of raw vegetables. “I’ll be out of financial aid after next year. But I applied for an internship with Wolfsson, so if I don’t suck, maybe they’ll hire me afterward.”

Scott looks over his shoulder with a whistle, clearly impressed. “When do you hear back?”

“Hopefully soon. It starts this summer and it’s a year-long internship, so, kind of a big deal.”

Initially, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with a degree in Computer Science and Engineering. Finding weaknesses and vulnerabilities in the code is my strong suit, so maybe going into IT with a specialty in cyber defense will ensure I don’t get arrested for doing it. Then again, the good ones don’t usually get caught, right?

“In that case, I’ll make sure to start asking you for vacation money and not the other way around,” he chuckles.

The glass door slides shut and my mom joins us on the patio, carrying a bottle of Chardonnay and three stemless glasses. Once a week, I go back home to Dire Ridge for dinner at Mom and Scott’s house, which usually results in me bringing back two shopping bags full of leftovers for my housemates. My mom pours us each a glass of wine, sliding mine across the table with a sigh.

I tip my glass to my lips, eyeing her. She seems distracted.

“How was Colorado?” she suddenly chirps in a more energetic tone. “Did you see Colson?”

I pause, holding the wine in my mouth for a few moments. “Yeah, finally!” I say, swallowing hard. “We did a lot of snowmobiling, it was nice to get out, even in the snow.”

“I spoke to him on the phone last week,” she smiles. “He was on his way to your dad’s. You never know where he’ll be these days.”

“I know, he really needs to come visit— here. ”

I know my mom misses him, which is just one more thing that adds to my irritation about his nervous breakdown, PTSD, or whatever. It’s not his fault he is the way he is, and I shouldn’t be angry with him. But, given the situation, I need him to quit being an arrogant asshole, like usual, and get on my level.

“We might go visit him this summer, it would be a great excuse to go on an Alaskan cruise,” she muses. “I actually just shipped him a few things from his room. I’ve started cleaning out the bedrooms. You’ve already taken most of your things with you, so Colson’s room seemed—” she pauses, glancing at Scott’s back, “I don’t know…easier.”

I know what she’s implying, what she’s been trying to avoid for the last six years. All of us are gone, in one way or another, and our bedrooms only exist as time capsules. But this isn’t about mine or Colson’s room, it’s about the one that stays shut, sealed like a sacred sarcophagus to preserve the fading enchantment still trapped inside.

If Evie’s belongings aren’t there, then comes the stark and dreadful reality that neither is she.

I take a deep breath, acutely aware that only a couple of months ago, I never would’ve asked what I’m about to. Because up until now, I was also able to set aside my grief, only slightly diluted with the passage of time. Now, I no longer have that luxury.

“Do you want me to help you?”

Relief washes over my mom’s face and remains there until I follow her upstairs. Evie’s room hasn’t actually been sealed shut since she drove to Canaan and never came back. I came in here once to look for my spare headphones and another time for a sweatshirt that Evie borrowed. It’s eerie, but not in a frightening way. It kind of feels like she’s still here…hanging out.

“Scott said you’re welcome to have anything you’d like or anything that has special meaning to you,” my mom says as she surveys the task before us. “I know he doesn’t want to get rid of anything, but I think it bothers him just as much for her things to be sitting here, untouched.”

“I’d offer to take her clothes because she had good style, but that would be a lost cause.”

There’s no way my giant hips and ass would come close to fitting in Evie’s jeans. And even if they did, they would be miles long on my short legs. The best I could hope for would be her tops only because my tits are tiny compared to hers.

That one draws a laugh from my mom. “Tell me about it. When I was your age, they didn’t put elastic in denim. My waist was in proportion, but I needed the jaws of life to button my pants and hope the bottoms didn’t rip by lunchtime.”

“And now you know why I wore leggings and running shorts all the time,” I grin.

I take a seat on the edge of Evie’s bed and gaze around the room, wondering where we’re even going to start.

“Did you know this is the first thing Evie ever brought to our house?” my mom asks, taking a seat next to me.

I follow her eyes to the quilt laid across the end of the bed, still a vibrant shade of green even though its edges are worn from use.

“Really?”

She nods. “Her grandmother made it for her and this was the quilt that was always on her bed at her mom’s house. But the first weekend she came here from Canaan, she brought this quilt because she said this house would start to feel like home faster. Evie was always ready for the next adventure and she never had the patience for first days .” She smiles with fondness. “Quilts are priceless. There’s so much history and emotion sewn into each one.” She runs her fingers over the stitching. “I should pack this up for Lena.”

But the longer I gaze at the bright green leaves and white flowers swirling across the fabric, the more I begin to think about the past, about memories packed away in my own room on campus, secreted away for my eyes only. I stand up and wander across the room to Evie’s bookshelves. Scanning the rows, I come to a black leather photo album with a tufted cover.

When I open it, the first thing I see is a photo of Evie sitting in a classroom next to a tall boy with short platinum blonde hair. Her arm is slung around his shoulders and they’re both smiling at the camera. Tucked into the plastic sleeves among the photos are small pencil drawings, movie tickets, and other memorabilia with no apparent pattern or significance.

“Who’s this?” I ask, turning the page toward my mom.

“ Oh, ” she arches her brow with interest and then immediately deflates again as she crosses the room. “That’s Evie’s friend who lives in Canada. He came to Canaan in the foreign exchange program,” she glances up in thought, “maybe her junior year? He was a year older, but they had art together and became such great friends—absolutely inseparable.” Then she lets out a faint laugh, “But he was not her boyfriend, she made that very clear. She was actually supposed to visit him in Vancouver.”

So, this is the guy she didn’t tell Colson about.

I run my fingers over the dimpled leather, chewing my lip as I flip through the pages.

Suddenly, I feel my mom’s hand on my arm. “I need to apologize to you,” she says firmly.

“For what?”

“For what happened—to you —on the day Colson found Evie . And then what happened that night, with Colson.”

Even though all of this has been simmering beneath the surface for the past few weeks, I am not prepared for my mom to bring it up while we’re standing in the middle of Evie’s bedroom looking through the remains of her life.

“I was talking to your aunt last week after your cousin was in that car accident. He’s home now, thank God, but she mentioned having to go fetch the children and keeping them while his wife was with him at the hospital. And after that, we got to talking about Evie.” She pauses, the silence hanging heavy between us. “I realized that no one came and got you. I don’t think you even went to school, did you?”

“No,” I murmur, gripping the album tighter.

“I’m just—” she knits her brow, “I’m so sorry, Dallas.”

What do I say? It’s OK? Because it’s still not OK.

“And after that night…now, I think I should’ve said something to Colson and taken him to a doctor. I can’t imagine him living with what happened.”

Part of me thinks I should tell her that he never got over it, and now it’s the reason he’s hiding in the wilderness and she hasn’t seen him in two years. But, instead, I stay silent, trying to stave off my own pent-up anger.

“At the time, I thought it was better for him to be with his friends and find some happiness before he graduated. Those boys were wild, but I think they kept him on track in many ways—even Aiden,” she says with a faint smile. “I had lunch with Mason’s mom a couple of weeks ago. I still can’t believe what happened to Alex.”

I clench my teeth at his name and the stab of grief that follows.

“Yeah, Colson told me about it,” I mumble quickly, hoping she won’t elaborate.

“Alex was such a nice boy,” she says absently while gazing around the room. “Every day, I wish he hadn’t decided to go overseas again.”

It’s like a scab being torn off, over and over. And while my mom is apologizing for her and Scott abandoning me on the very worst of days, she’s simultaneously reminding me of the one person who actually did show up.

And the fact that he’s dead.

My mom takes a seat on the edge of Evie’s bed again. “I admired you so much back then, Dallas. No matter what happened, you were still so focused and upbeat. I never had to worry about you.”

Is that how I seemed back then, like I wasn’t about to combust at any moment? Maybe that goes to show that people see me how they want to see me; the bubbly girl who laughed a lot, the fun-sized one, the girl on the track team, the bartender pouring shots, a screen name, a faceless figure in the neon light, Colson’s little sister…

“No,” I say louder this time, “because if you’re not a behavior problem, then nobody cares.” And as soon as I say it, the rest comes tumbling out. “Just because I like being around people and I don’t choose violence like Colson does every time something bothers me doesn’t mean that I’m never angry or upset.” I lock eyes with my mom, hers just as deep of a blue as mine. “You all think it’s easy for me? Well, it isn’t! It’s a lot harder to be kind and keep giving people the benefit of the doubt when everyone around you is either so selfish or so overwrought that they forget you exist!”

My fingers tremble beneath the leather cover and I finally slam the album shut in frustration. I hug it to my chest as I rise from the bed, deciding that it was a mistake to set foot inside this room.

“But it’s fine,” my chin begins to tremble as I start for the door, “because at least I’m smiling. ”