We’ve been driving forever.
Ethan’s hand hasn’t let go of my braid. He grips the hair so tightly that I know pieces are pulling free from my scalp, bit by bit.
It hurts. A lot.
I’ve been crying into his shirt. I keep trying not to, but it’s impossible.
Freeway changed to surface streets miles ago, but my face is shoved down, almost into Ethan’s lap, and I have no idea where we are. Between his fist in my hair and his arm pinning me against him, Ethan has such a tight grip on my head that I can barely breathe. At the first traffic light, I struggled and tried to press on the horn, fighting his hold, trying to gain some attention from nearby vehicles.
Ethan slammed my head into the center console. Blood runs into my eye from somewhere.
Now he’s pressing down on my shoulder blades, keeping my head low. At first I think he’s pushing me toward his crotch, but then I realize he’s just trying to keep me out of sight now that we’re in heavier traffic. Sunlight streams through the windows. A beautiful day out there. A complete nightmare in here.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” he keeps saying. “I can’t believe you did this, Emma.”
“I’m not doing anything to you,” I say.
“You are. You asked me out, and then you started playing games.”
“Please, Ethan. Please just let me out of the—”
“NO.” He jerks my braid so hard that my neck is wrenched sideways. Stars flicker in my vision. The car turns sharply, and I’m completely off balance. My face is rocked into his lap. I almost throw up on him.
Then another turn. And another. The car rocks as we go over several small bumps.
And then we come to a stop. He kills the engine.
I shouldn’t think about killing things.
We’re in the shade. Somewhere under a canopy of trees. The lacy pattern of shadows throws Rorschach images across the upholstery. I can hear traffic, but it’s distant.
My breathing is suddenly loud.
So is his.
And then I realize he’s crying. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says softly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It’s okay.” I swallow back my own tears. My voice wavers. “It’s okay. Ethan, just let me out.”
He hasn’t let me go. If anything, he’s clutching my hair more tightly. “I liked you so much.”
I want to punch him in the crotch, but I have no leverage. I don’t want him to hit me again. But if he’s talking, he’s not hurting me. I need time to think. “I like you, too. You’re my favorite game partner.”
“But that’s all I am to you. A game partner.”
“No,” I say. My voice sounds thick. “We’re friends.”
“I found Nightmare for you. I did that for you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
A siren kicks up in the distance.
Oh, please be for me.
I know there’s no way.
Another siren joins it.
Oh, please. Oh, please.
They seem to be growing louder. Closer.
Maybe someone saw us. Maybe my location went through to Rev after all.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
Ethan freezes.
The sirens grow loud—then rocket past. They don’t stop.
NO. Oh, god. No.
But he’s quieter now. More mellow.
“Can you let me go?” My voice shakes. “We can talk. We haven’t gotten a chance to talk yet.”
For an eternal moment, he doesn’t move. I worry I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. Yeah.” He lets go of my hair. I straighten in the seat.
We’re in an old parking lot, facing the woods. I can’t see anything else. I hold very still. I think about my position. I think about his.
And then I grab the lock with one hand, seize the door handle with another, and burst out of the car.
“Help!” I scream. “Help me!”
It’s an abandoned parking lot. We’re surrounded by woods. Ritchie Highway is five hundred feet away, cars racing by on the other side of a line of trees.
There’s no one here.
No one except Ethan, who moves fast for someone his size. I expected him to be slow and lazy, but maybe hiding in his mom’s house gives him a lot of time to work out.
He brings me to the ground. He’s so heavy. I crash into the pavement. I fight to roll away, but he traps me on my back. Asphalt tears into my skin.
And then—and then—I do remember something Rev said. It’s like his voice is in my head. Stay close. Distance gives someone room to hurt you.
When Ethan draws back, I hook an arm around his neck. Another under his arm. I cling to him.
I can feel his surprise. He tries to shake me free, but I dig in with my nails. I press my face against his. I hold on for dear life.
Sirens again. Coming closer again.
I’m underneath him, but suddenly I feel like I have an advantage. I can’t breathe with his weight on me, but he can’t hit me when I’m up against him. I’m heavy enough that he can’t get leverage to get himself off the ground. I refuse to give him my grip on his neck.
Then he tries another tactic. He rears back and slams me into the ground.
The back of my skull hits the pavement. I can’t hold on. I can’t see. I’m going to be sick.
He grabs my shoulders. Lifts me.
He’s going to slam me again. My head won’t be able to take it. The last thing I’m going to see will be his horrible face, crying about how we were friends, as he crushes my brain into the pavement.
And then his weight is just … gone. He’s lifted away.
No, he’s dragged away.
And then Rev draws back a fist and hits Ethan square in the face.