Chapter Sixteen
0 Years, 1 Week, 5 Days
“You are fired from being my best friend!” Kayla screams. Even her two-in-the-morning Skype face is Beyoncé-flawless. I want to be her except I don’t, because the idea of dating Wren is almost basically like incest, because he is so little-brothery to me, and also breasts that enormous would make me trip at an inopportune moment, like, say, over the lion’s cage railing at the zoo, and I’d die.
“Stop talking about my boobs! You’re fired!”
“Kayla,” I whine attractively. “Kayla, listen, I am not fired, you are fired up.”
“Hell yes, I am fired up!” She slams her water glass down and it splooshes all over everything. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because!” I blush. “Because. Because I was busy.”
Kayla smirks knowingly, and I yell.
“Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Shut up anyway!”
“Finally!” She ignores my request. “God, it took you two forever.”
“A year and some is not forever.”
“You could have a baby in that time!”
“Ugh, no, please. No grubs. Promise me you won’t have a grub.”
“I will have nine hundred grubs just to spite you. Speaking of grubs, you’re using condoms, right?”
“Yes.”
She just giggles. “Aren’t they weird? Like weird little plastic socks.”
“I will put one on your head and suffocate you.”
“I’m sorry!” She throws her hands up. “I’m just happy you finally got what you wanted in life!”
“Jack is not all I wanted in life.” I roll my eyes. “What I want in life is a stable yet satisfying career in the field of my choosing and a giant house made of a single doughnut.”
“And Jack.”
“And Jack can come sleep in my doughnut house sometimes. Yes.”
Kayla stares at me, smiling with increasing amounts of dorkishness.
“What?” I snap.
“You really are in love.”
“Ugh.”
“I’m serious! What other boy would you let sleep in your doughnut house?”
“Heath Ledger.”
“Yes, but he’s dead.”
“Ughhhh. People who are dead can totally sleep in my doughnut house.”
“Wait.” Kayla looks like she’s been struck by lightning and/or has come up with the most brilliant hypothesis this side of teenage girl science. “Is doughnut house a euphemism?”
I groan and roll myself up in a blanket and then roll on the ground like a particularly floral sausage. Skype beeps with another call, and I bolt up.
“Oh, hang on. I’ve got another call coming in.”
I flip over to it, and Vanessa’s face greets me.
“Oh, hi! It’s you!”
“It’s me,” she agrees. She looks different without all her makeup on, and she’s in some kind of fancy hotel room. The bedsheets are too perfectly made. “I assume you found the note I wrote you in your phone?”
“Yeah! I’m kind of amazed you managed to type all that out while just pretending to look at my pictures.”
If you’re still interested, I’ll contact you via Skype from twelve to three a.m. My username is [email protected]. I found it in my notes app the next morning.
“I didn’t want Jack to see it,” she says. “What I’m proposing would make him angry, and I want him focused.”
“So…” I glance at my phone. “You want me to plant the key log thingy on Will’s computer, or whatever?”
“Precisely.”
“Okay, I’d love to do that for you and all, but I’m gonna need some incentive.”
Vanessa nods. “Of course. I’d be happy to pay you—”
“Uh, no. I don’t want money. I mean, I do want money, always, but not from you.”
“Then what do you want?”
I knit my lips and debate the validity of telling a possibly-government agent a very dirty secret. Her face is so set and determined, and it’s then I realize she doesn’t care about anyone else’s business. It’ll all get shoved aside as information, a means to an end. It’s Will she’s after.
“So, Jack did something. A long time ago.”
“The Hernandez disappearance?”
I squirm. “Uh, yeah. How did you—”
“I know all I need to know.”
“So then you know the Feds gave the tape of that, um, incident, to Will’s friends. So they could clear up the tape for them.”
“Regrettably, yes.”
“Aren’t you guys hunting Will and his friends? So why—”
“There is little cooperative communication between us and the federal government,” she says quickly. “Call it rivalry, call it human pride, but mix-ups like this happen very often. We don’t tell the Feds what we are doing and to whom, so we sometimes end up arresting people they’ve…enlisted for help.”
“Right. Well. I’ll do the whole key log thing for you. But. But I want you to make that footage go away. I want you to make it stop going to the Feds. Or anyone. Forever.”
Vanessa purses her lips. “That’s an awfully big request. You’re asking me to tamper with evidence in a federal cold case.”
“I know. But. If you do it, I’ll do the key logging thing. Tonight. Right away. Just make it disappear.”
A tiny voice in my head begs to ask her to make the footage Will has of me defacing Summers’s office go away, too. But Jack’s dilemma is more important. Jack’s means jail. Mine just means getting kicked out of college, and one is definitively worse than the other. So I stand firm.
Vanessa ponders it, then sighs.
“All right. You put the key log on tonight, and I’ll make some calls.”
“Thank you,” I breathe. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll have my associate drop the key log off in a brown paper bag, in the right-side garbage can outside Ciao Bella. That’s the café on your campus.”
“Duh. I’ve been there a thousand times.”
She fixes me with a stern look, and I fall quiet.
“You’ll attach the key log to one of the USB ports on his computer. Any one will do, just make sure it’s all the way inside. All I need is for the key log to stay in the computer for four hours. After that, I’ll be able to access his hard drive anytime I choose.”
“USB port, all the way inside. Got it.”
“I’ll know when it’s done. Expect a call from my associate in the next few weeks. He’ll tell you when your ‘reward’ goes through.”
“Right.”
“And Isis,” Vanessa says. “Be careful. Will is not a good person.”
“I sort of already know that.”
Vanessa logs off, and I switch back to Kayla.
“Everything okay?” she asks. “You look kind of sick.”
“Sick nasty rad,” I correct.
“No, like, throw-up sick.”
I’m quiet, staring at the darkness of her bedroom as she stares at the darkness of mine, seven hundred miles away.
“Hey, Kayla?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you still be my friend if…if I dropped out?”
Kayla furrows her brow. “Of course, dumbass. Do you not, like, like it there?”
“I thought I would! I thought I really wanted to be here. I thought it would be great, and it’s been okay, but. It’s just boring,” I say. “School is boring. I wanna go places, and see new things. Things that aren’t textbooks. I want to travel! I wanna get out of this state, this country. I just wanna…go. Except—”
“Your mom,” Kayla finishes for me. “You’ve looked after her for so long! You deserve some vacation time away from family!”
“But she’ll be— She and Dad will be disappointed in me, and the money they spent to send me here—”
“They won’t have to pay anymore if you drop out!” Kayla laughs. “And I dunno about your dad, but I know your mom. She’s so sweet. She’d want you to be happy, not miserable.”
“You don’t think it’s stupid? You don’t think I’ll be ruining my future forever or something?”
“Uh, no? You’re Isis Blake! You’re not me, or Wren, or even Jack. You’re not like other people. You’re hilarious and quick and good, and most importantly you’re you. You’ll be just fine, no matter what you do with your life. Nothing is ever ruined forever. And I’ll always be your friend.”
My eyes well up with tears, and so do hers. She laughs, wiping her cheeks.
“As long as you go for what makes you happy, everything will turn out okay. I promise.”
Eight hours later, I try my very hardest to look like I’m not doing possible spy things. I wear a bright yellow skirt and a shirt with flowers on it, and I smile and say hi to everyone, even Heather. Spies are not friendly. No one will ever know I am doing spy things.
“Are you doing spy things?”
“Jesus H. Christo!” I yelp, and whirl around to see Charlie glaring at me. “How—how did you—” I lean in and whisper. “Can you read minds?”
“You were thinking out loud,” he deadpans. “Ugh, and that yellow is hideous. Word of advice, if you wanna be a spy, wear black.”
“I’m not a spy!” People stare. I immediately lower my voice. “I am not a spy. I simply…threw an important paper away. On accident. Yeah.”
Charlie looks at my hand buried in the trash can and then stares pointedly at me.
“Many papers,” I correct. “An entire notebook. Full of papers.”
“Here.” He grunts, putting his hand in and pulling out the paper bag, wiping the banana peel off it. “Weirdo. If you want drugs, you can get them like normal people do and go pick them up from the dealer. That way, you don’t have to dig around in garbage. Everybody wins.”
“Right. Um. Thankyoubye.”
I fast-walk away as quickly as I can. I run into the glass door of my dorm and denounce the devil loudly, rubbing my sore forehead.
“Boy, you really suck at this being-subtle stuff,” Charlie says. I hide behind a pillar.
“Go away,” I whisper. “Shoo!”
“You’re usually a lot chattier than this.”
“I just get a headache when people say too many dumb things to me all at once.”
“You know, for what it’s worth, I like you better than that Brittany chick. But now that she’s gone, Jack and I gotta do it all the hard way.”
“What’s the hard way?”
“Sneak in. Ugh. I hate sneaking.”
“You were pretty shitty at it in the forest,” I agree.
“I was chasing you because we thought you knew Jack.”
“Well, it didn’t feel like a chase, that’s how sucky you were.”
“You screamed.”
“We all make mistakes sometimes.”
He rolls his eyes, and I stamp my foot.
“Look, it’s great you are here and doing things like breathing, but I really must go.”
“Oi!”
I feel a hand on my wrist and whirl to see Charlie holding me back.
“What is it?”
“I just—” He goes red from the roots of his spiky hair all the way down to his chin. He can’t meet my gaze. “I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what?”
“Chasing you. Calling you rude stuff. Just— I’m sorry, okay?”
I can tell it’s paining him to apologize. He definitely doesn’t do it often. I smile and ruffle his hair.
“You’re forgiven.”
“Hands off the merchandise!” he squawks, and I laugh and walk away.
I take the stairs two at a time, leaving him behind to ponder his life mistake of ever speaking to me. I open the paper bag in my room; the key logger is a flat black plastic bit no bigger than my thumbnail.
“Is that a piece of poop?”
I whirl around and hide the key logger in between my fingers. Yvette is sitting on her bed, painting her nails their usual cheery death-vampire black.
“It’s a bargaining chip for my soul,” I say. “I’m playing a high-stakes game against Satan! It’s actually kind of invigorating. Do you wanna help?”
Yvette shoots me a doubting look. “Like, horns and red skin and big scary fork Satan?”
“Sort of. Think more hair and fewer pointy bits, but exactly the same level of evil.”
“So, a guy.”
“Yup. I gotta get in his room and plant something in it, but I don’t wanna get trapped. Because he will trap me in there if he can help it, since he enjoys watching me squirm.”
“Fucking sadist,” Yvette spits. “Okay, so you go in there, and I bust you out. Right?”
“Subtly.”
“What does that mean?” She wrinkles her nose.
“It means instead of busting down his door and alerting him to the fact that I’ve planned this and am messing with his shit, you gotta make a distraction.”
“Who’s making a distraction?” Diana asks as she walks in. “And can I help?”
“You’re hired.” I point at her. Yvette fills her in as I dig in my closet for an appropriate battle outfit. Something cute but not too cute. I want to remind him of what he ruined, distract him with his own “triumphs” long enough to blind him to what I’m doing. I pick dark skinny jeans and a tight shirt, even though it makes me sick to my stomach to think of baring any of my curves in front of him. This is for Jack. This is so he doesn’t end up in jail because of that stupid video that ruined his life, Sophia’s life, Wren’s and Avery’s.
“We could pull the fire alarm,” Diana says. “The boy’s dorm will empty fairly quickly, and I doubt even someone like this guy will want to stick around with that siren in his ear.”
“Perfect. God, you’re a genius. My girlfriend is a genius.” Yvette kisses her on the cheek. Diana blushes.
“Oh, stop.”
Yvette goes over to the window and opens it, yelling.
“My girlfriend is a genius!”
My mouth is a happy open O as I look at Diana, whose blush is now frozen on her shocked face. It’s a bold move full of courage and love, and it’s so different from the Yvette I know, who whispered her secret to me from over a pillow a month ago. Diana gets up and they start kissing, and I clear my throat only when I see bits of tongue.
“Ahem! Payback brigade, attention!”
They both laugh, trying to separate and turn toward me in a salute all at once, but they bump noses and legs and then we’re all laughing on the floor, and I know without a shred of doubt I’ll be all right.
No matter what happens after tonight, I’ll be okay.
Yvette and Diana agree to pull the fire alarm if I don’t come out in ten minutes. That gives me two minutes to get up the stairs, and eight minutes to chat Will up enough to distract him and plant the key log. But if I fuck up—
I shake my head. No fucking up! Not on the menu. Not now, not ever. Never was. Fucking up is the fish sticks of the Life Options restaurant menu—nobody orders it, and nobody likes it. And if you do order it, it was an accident and you regret ever living.
I rush up the stairs and forcefully catch my breath outside Will’s room. I smooth my hair and try to look like I didn’t just run straight up three flights. My hands are shaking. I feel like I’m going to puke.
And then my cell phone goes off.
I scrabble to answer it before it alerts Will.
“Hello?” I whisper, moving away from the door.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jack snarls, sounding as though he’s walking very quickly. “Get out of there, right now.”
“Don’t come here,” I demand. “I’m serious, Jack. Stay away. How did you even—”
“Charlie told me you were acting strange. Isis, you can’t go in there with him. You need to stay the hell out of this. It’s my job, not yours! You could get hurt.”
“It’s worth it,” I say. “If I do this, you’ll be okay. So. Just let me do it. Please.”
“No! No, I’m coming to get you—”
“Jack,” I say with all the force I can muster. “You ran away after Sophia’s funeral because you needed to. I need to go in there now. Alone. It’s the same.”
Jack’s silent, then lets out a feral snarl of frustration. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Isis, please no.”
“He won’t hurt me this time.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I don’t. You’re right. I don’t know anything. I don’t know if the sun will rise tomorrow, or if I’ll contract some horrible disease or get hit by a car, or if Will might hurt me. I don’t know where I’ll be in three years, and I sure as hell dunno where I’ll be in ten. I don’t know if Game of Thrones will ever be finished! I don’t know if anyone I love will die soon, and I don’t know if a meteor is gonna come down and smite us all into ash. I don’t know if I’ll have eggs tomorrow for breakfast or not.” I laugh. “But I do know I love you. That’s…that’s really the only thing I do know.”
“Isis—”
“Please, Jack. Let me do this. I’ll come back in one piece. I promise.”
“You promise,” he says, his voice hopeless and small and steely.
“I promise, idiot.”
“I love you,” he says. “God, I fucking love you, you moron.”
Jack hangs up first. I hang up and face the door at the very last. Except there’s no door. There’s only the chest of Will Cavanaugh in front of my face. I back up quickly, and he chuckles.
“Isis! So good of you to come. I heard your voice and was concerned, so I came out to check, and lo and behold, here you are! What a pleasant surprise.”
I set my expression, trying to make it unreadable.
“I want to talk to you. In private.”
“Of course you do.” He smirks. “Let’s go. My roommate’s out getting dinner. I guess mostly everyone is, at this time of night.”
He leads me to his room and shuts the door behind me.
“Don’t lock it,” I say, feigning a hint of terror in my voice. But he does anyway, double checks the lock, and smiles.
“Can’t have you running off now, can we? We have important things to discuss!”
Will claps his hands and sits on the bed, then motions for me to sit on his chair near his desk. And his computer. Bingo.
“So!” he says. “Should you start, or should I? Or will you just sit there struck dumb like you always do and let me walk all over you?”
“That would be nice for you, wouldn’t it?” I snarl. He makes an “oooh” noise.
“So you’ve got some spark back in you, huh? And here I thought it was all gone. Is it because Jack fucked you? How predictable.”
“You’re not worth the breath it would take to speak to you,” I say. “But I’m going to do it anyway, because this was something I should’ve said to you a long time ago.”
“Oh, let me guess! Is it one of your resounding ‘fuck you’s? I love those so much. I miss those, you know. But ever since you and Jack got back together, you haven’t so much as looked at me.”
“And you don’t like that, do you?”
He taps his chin thoughtfully, then nods. “Of course. I told you, Isis—you’re mine. Jack’s an idiot, thinking a few pity fucks will make you his.”
Will gets up, circles me, then grabs my hand. I pull away, panic making my muscles strong, but he rips my fingers open and grabs the key log from it.
“Well now, what’s this?” He laughs.
“It’s n-nothing,” I scramble. “Just a piece of dirt—”
“It’s a key log. Did you really think I didn’t know? I saw you and Jack walking around, kissing and making stupid faces at each other, and I knew he was getting you in on this. He’s after me, and his fucking partner’s after me, and now you’re after me. But it won’t work, because—” He snaps the key log in two, grin wide. “I’m just that much smarter than you.”
I stare at the fractured remnants. He doesn’t know it isn’t my only key log, and I can’t let him see that in my face. Will flops on the bed again and sighs.
“Good try, though. Entertaining, at the very least.”
“Is that all…? Is that all I was to you?” I choke. “Entertaining? Nothing about us—not one single time—was because you liked me?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I liked you very much.” He smiles. “I thought you knew that.”
“But you—you can’t like someone and call them names. You can’t like someone and—”
“Yesss?” he leads. “Go on. Say it.”
I take a breath, the deepest breath. I fill my lungs with strength, with Jack’s smell and memories of his laughter and his hands, of Diana’s and Yvette’s laughs, of Kayla’s teary smile. I look Will in the dark eyes and hold my gaze there.
“You can’t like someone and rape them.”
His eyes go wide, and he whispers. “Rape. Is that…is that what you thought it was? Oh God, no. I was trying to have sex with you! That’s how much I liked you!”
My instinct is to squeeze my eyes shut, to block out the memories, but I force myself to unblinkingly stare at him, through him.
“I told you to stop. I said it clearly many times.”
“It’s true. You did. Except girls are weird—they never say what they really want. And I know you did. You hung around me like a starving dog begging for scraps. You were a stupid little girl who kept changing her mind and didn’t know what she wanted, so I helped you along.”
His words turn to a hiss, his anger refreshing. This is the real him, the one he hides behind fake grins.
“I wasn’t stupid,” I say slowly. “I just didn’t want you.”
He stands all at once, tall and exploding from the bed.
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Will has no control over himself. He just puts a silk screen over his ugly face and hopes people won’t look or pry too hard. But I’ve pried the hardest. I’ve stabbed him where it hurts, deep in his ego, and his handsome faces twists into an ugly mockery—a gargoyle, a vampire of old.
“You fucking bitch!” He slams his hands on his desk. The computer rattles. “You were a fat, fucking ugly bitch! You were lucky I even let you hang around! You were so fucking lucky I even wanted to touch your fat, stinking carcass! No one else did. No one else does. Not even that fucking pretty boy. He’s just fucking you because he pities you. He sees how pathetic and ugly you are, and he’s taking pity on you! You’re an idiot for thinking he wants you—you of all people!”
I sit still, transfixing my eyes on his face, not away from it. I always used to look away, too afraid that his eyes would bring up memories. Will puts his furious red face in mine, and it’s all I can do to not bolt up and dive through the open window away from him.
“I had you first!” he seethes. “He’s got my trash, my discarded meal, my fucking garbage! You’re nothing. You’re nothing without me. I got you friends, I got you popularity, I fucking taught you how to smoke and drink and steal and not be a pathetic fucking loser. You’re mine! You’re mine, and to anyone else you’re an empty, useless bitch. Fucking. Useless. Garbage.”
With his every word, something deep inside me starts to come loose. It’s hardened and dark, like old amber on the skin of a tree, and it wiggles free bit by bit. Will laughs, an insane sound.
“You liked it. I know you fucking liked it.”
And with that the dark thing pops free, off the bark of my insides, and floats up and away, out of me, out of the top of my head, and I suddenly feel so light and exhausted.
Whatever Will used to be in my memories, whatever he’d done to me in the past, suddenly lets go of its grip on me and disappears into the air. Just like that. All at once, after years and years of pain.
“You never loved me,” I say hoarsely. “And I hated it.”
“You hate me.” He grins, maniacal. “You’ll always hate me. You’ll always think about me, no matter where you are.”
“No, I feel sorry for you.” I stand and sigh. “I’m going to leave through that door and never think about you again.”
It happens so fast I lose my footing and fall—Will lunges for me and pins me to the ground with his knees. Fear streams down my back, my spine, my face, like the ice-cold claws of a dread monster made of razors.
“Get off!” I scream. “Get the fuck off me!”
“You think you’re better than me?” He sneers, spittle landing in my eyes. He grabs my flailing wrists and pins them to the floor, too. “You think you’ve got the fucking right to feel sorry for me? I’ll show you sorry. I’ll make you more sorry than you ever wanted—”
I spit in his face. It hits him on the eyebrow and drips down, and he looks horrified for a split second before he knees me hard in the ribs. I cry out and try to squirm away, try to kick him and punch him, but there’s nothing to kick and punch with, everything is pinned down by his heavy, furious weight.
It’s going to happen again.
It’s going to happen again.
It’s going to happen again and I can’t stop it.
No.
NO.
I can stop this. I have to stop this once and for fucking all!
I twist my body around and kick hard, my foot meeting a soft bit of disgusting flesh between his legs, and Will wails and curls off me. It’s not a lot, his stubbornness clinging to my body, but it’s enough to give me the leverage I need to kick him off like the leech he is and race for the light switch.
“No!” he shrieks, the room flooding with total darkness. The only light is the faint streetlight from the window, and he scrabbles to sit on his bed and directly in that little square.
“You bitch!” Will snaps, shivering. “You fucking cunt! I’ll kill you when I find you. I-If you get near me I’ll fucking kill you!”
I stay low, like a panther. The tables have turned. I’m the predator, the wild thing in the darkness to haunt his nightmares. I unlock the door, just in case I need to run. Yet I get the feeling I won’t need to. He’s terrified, that much is clear in his voice. I have the power, and I’m drunk on it, seething with a smile that can barely contain my laugh.
“You’re pathetic,” I say. Will immediately lunges for my voice, but I sidestep him, and when his fingers touch emptiness he recoils back into the light.
“You’re a disgusting human being.”
I sidestep again, farther back, and he swipes wildly at nothingness.
“Fuck you!” he screams.
“I pity you, because you’ll never know what it’s like to be loved.” I laugh, dark and hoarse. “Your daddy never taught you. He taught you the opposite. And with that nasty attitude, no one in the world is going to try to teach you otherwise.”
“Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!”
“You’re going to rot forever inside yourself,” I whisper. “You’re going to be afraid of the darkness forever, the real darkness, the dark inside you. It’s there forever. And no one will ever care about you enough to try to pull it out. You will never care about yourself enough to try to pull it out. But I have cared about myself. I’ve tried for years, and I’ve finally done it, and I’m leaving you behind in it.”
Will’s face crumples in the dimness, and I smile.
“So yes, I pity you, Will Cavanaugh.”
The door behind me slams open, light flooding in from the hallway. Jack, breathless and furious, tumbles into the room, takes one look at the situation, and strides over to me, holding me in his arms.
“You took too long. Did he touch you?” He cups my face, looking it over with all the gentle intent of a doctor.
“No.” I smile up at him. “Not much, anyway.”
Jack tenses, eyes solidifying to the most subzero temperatures I’ve seen yet. The room itself seems to go cold as he fixes his twin icebergs on Will. Will’s eyes dart around, focusing on the exit behind us, and he musters up a mad dash but never quite makes it, because Jack trips him and in two seconds he has Will pinned to the ground, his arm twisted behind him and his cries echoing.
“Fuck! Screw you, asshole! Let me go!”
Jack looks up and stands on Will’s arm, using him as a footstool to reach the light on the ceiling. He pulls the bulb out, throwing it against the wall. It splinters in fragments of glass.
“Isis,” Jack says calmly. “The lamp.”
I oblige, stepping over Will and maybe dragging my foot a little so it hits his face. He swears, but he swears harder when I yank the lamp out by the cord. I’m about to throw it at the wall when Jack stops me.
“No. The bed. I’ll hold him. Use the cord and tie him to it.”
“No! Shit, shit, fuck, no! You can’t do this! You can’t fucking do this to me! Isis, don’t let him do this!”
I ignore his pleas as Jack fixes his arms around the iron bedpost sunk into the floor. I tie the cord twice, and Jack ties it a third time, yanking it to check the tightness.
“It should be about seven hours until sunrise,” Jack says. “And I’m sure we can persuade your roommate to spend the night somewhere else. Somewhere…quieter.”
“The window,” I say casually. “It should be covered.”
“No!”
“You know, it really should,” Jack agrees, smiling as he pulls the comforter from the bed and throws it over the window’s curtain rod, blocking out all the light from outside.
“Isis! I-Isis please!” Will pants, tears and snot dripping down his nose. “You can’t do this! I liked you! I cared about you—”
Jack punches him so hard I hear the crack of bone. He leans in, grabbing Will’s collar and sneering in his face.
“You will never speak to Isis again.”
“Isis! Plea—”
I turn away just in time to avoid seeing the second punch. But then I look back, because I deserve that much. Blood from his nose drips down his chin and mouth, and he pants, a thin sheen of sweat over his terrified face as Jack and I retreat.
“The joke’s on you, Will.” I laugh. “The key log you crushed was a fake I made from a soda bottle. I can’t believe you thought I was stupid enough to only have one. I planted the real one when you locked the door, when we first walked in. How many hours do you think it’ll take for them to find all the nasty shit you’ve been doing on that computer of yours? Probably more than it’ll take for you to see sunrise.”
“No! No!”
“Ah, the noise,” Jack says. He rummages through a nearby dresser and pulls out a shirt, handing it to me. “Should I do the honors?”
“I will,” I say. I rip the flimsy cotton down the middle and walk up to the pathetic boy I used to love. Will whimpers, the threat of another punch keeping him from speaking.
“Tell me why,” I say, squatting at his level. “Why did you hurt me?”
Will looks to Jack, who remains emotionless. Will tries a smile.
“I didn’t, Isis! I liked you! I thought you knew that!”
He struggles weakly as I force the cloth in his mouth. Not his throat, because I don’t want to kill him. I thought I did, but I really don’t. I want him to live. To suffer in the darkness like I did, except for the rest of his life.
I walk back to Jack, Will’s muffled screaming the last thing I hear before I shut the door and total darkness consumes him.
I manage to find Diana and Yvette before they get anywhere near the fire alarm. I’m too exhausted to track anybody down, so they offer to find Will’s roommate for me, a mousy boy with big glasses, and tell him what’s happened. He sighs in relief, saying he hates Will, and God bless us for fucking him over. He stays in Diana’s dorm, and they, curiously, stay with him. But I’m too exhausted to be very curious for very long about it.
Jack helps me into my room and collapses on the bed with me.
And I cry, and he strokes my face and my arms and waits.