Survivor, p.15
SURVIVOR, page 15
I’m making waffles when the boys show up. The tension between Damon and Rhys is obvious. Marissa and I exchange glances. I’m starting to miss the days when people just ignored me or harassed me. Chase leans over and tells me, “I think they’re arguing over whose dick is bigger.”
I don’t consider myself a prude. I’m kidding, I’m a prude. Chase’s blunt language shocks me a little, but Marissa snickers when Damon stiffens. “Just give it up, guys. Juliet doesn’t care about the size of your cock,” Chase adds gleefully.
Blushing, I throw the roll of paper towels at Chase’s unrepentant head.
“If it’s size that matters, I’ve never had any complaints,” Rhys says. I nearly gag at the cheesy words. Seriously?
“I’m sure if I were truly curious, I could simply poll the cheerleading squad,” I say blandly, surprising myself with my forwardness.
Marissa spews her coffee while Damon and Rhys stumble over each other to explain themselves.
“It was a bet.”
“Rhys started it.”
“Chase egged us on.”
I take a final bite of my waffle. “I can’t believe you called me a whore after screwing your way through the cheerleading team.” I eye Damon. “How do you think those girls felt, being treated like that? For what, a bet?” A thought occurs to me. “Eww, you two slept with Kara and Delaney, didn’t you?”
“Chase slept with Kara first,” Damon blurts, causing Chase to wince and Marissa to shriek.
“What the –?!” Marissa grabs Chase by the collar and smacks him across the head. “You slept with her?!”
“It was an accident!” Chase protests. “I was drunk. And we didn’t sleep. We just had sex.” That causes Marissa to shriek even more.
Rhys crosses his arms over his chest, his lower lip jutting out a little. “Damon and I had a bet on how many of the girls on the cheerleading team would sleep with us. We didn’t go through the entire squad. I mean, there’s like twenty-four on the squad.”
I groan, regretting I brought it up. “Please tell me you practice safe sex and get yourself checked regularly.” I give a mock shudder. “Nothing wrong with having an active—” I choke a little. “An active life.”
“We didn’t have sex with all of them,” Damon says lamely. “Some of it was—”
Marissa slams her hand down on the table. “I don’t want to know what you all did! How could you have been so stupid? Half of those girls are looking for a rich husband.” She glares at Chase.
Chase gives me a pathetic look of appeal. “We haven’t touched anyone since we met you, Juliet.”
I pale, then blush. “This is not about me.” I wave my hands futilely. Damon and Rhys cast me anxious glances. “I’m not shaming anyone. There was a time you all cast aspersions at me, after all.” I wrinkle my nose a little. “Although, Kara and Delaney…” I make a face. “Sorry. No wonder they hate me, though.” I try to laugh it off.
“I am so mad at the three of you,” Marissa finally hisses. “Come on, Jules. They can clean up.”
Grabbing my things, I follow Marissa out. “I have told you how sorry I am about my behavior towards you before, right?” Marissa asks, her blue eyes worried.
I nod. “I see how protective you are of Chase. It probably didn’t help that we were spending so much time together.” I purse my lips. “It’s a double standard, if you think about it. Guys sleep around and they’re players. Girls do the same and they’re labeled sluts.”
Marissa hugs me with one arm. “You’re right. I will think WWJS – What would Juliet say—before I open my mouth.”
I laugh. If I were into girls, I’d want Marissa to marry me right then and there.
***
Just because the so-called Kings – yes, it is still hard for me to take that term seriously – are different with me doesn’t mean that the harassment from the student body is gone. Kara and Delaney are certain I’m sleeping with anyone that has a penis, which means that they continue to harass me when I’m on my own. Luckily, it’s really only during mealtimes and during gym class that I have to be extremely wary.
My feelings about Damon, Rhys, and Chase are all over the place. I’m not angry with them. I don’t hate them nor am I repulsed by their attentions. Confused? Yes. Uneasy? Definitely. A tiny bit excited? I’d be lying if I said no. I can definitively say I’m overwhelmed.
I get a text from Marissa during art class. She wants me to meet her in the fitness room to discuss Spring break. But I’m delayed because Andrew and I chat for a few minutes after class. There’s a surprise I’m working on for the Spring Talent Show that I haven’t mentioned to Marissa or the boys yet.
Marissa is all about promptness, so I rush to the fitness room. I’m about to enter when I’m blocked by a body. I look up, trying to remember the name of the basketball player in front of me. Dan? David? I groan inwardly. I’m only vaguely aware of his name because Kara’s been sitting on his lap a lot during lunch.
“Hey, there, where are you off to in such a rush?” he asks. He’s so tall that I have to crane my neck to look at him.
“Meeting Marissa inside,” I say politely, keeping my words brief.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he says.
“Don, right?”
“Derek.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right. What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I know you’re giving Damon Rossi a hell of a run for valedictorian.” He gives me a crooked grin that I’m sure most people find charming. “I could use a bit of academic help.”
My phone starts buzzing, which probably means Marissa is getting impatient. “Sorry, don’t have time for that,” I say, trying to dismiss him.
“Woah, give a guy a chance,” he laughs, putting a hand on my arm.
Brad’s warned me about people getting too familiar. I step back so that I’m out of reach.
“Look, I’ve seen Rossi and Creed all over you, but it doesn’t look like you’re exclusive, if you catch my drift” Derek says, putting his face closer. Wow, not only do students at this school struggle with creative insults, but apparently they struggle with come on lines. The question remains whether he’s hitting on me or just trying to be gross.
“I can see why Kara is so threatened by you.” He does this weird lip licking thing; I can’t tell if his lips are dry or if he’s trying to be badly suggestive.
I never get a chance to make my smart retort – even though I had an amazing one all dreamed up – because Damon appears behind Derek and puts him in a choke hold. Even by my standards, it seems an excessive reaction.
“Did he try to touch you?” he demands, his gray eyes burning.
“Not really.” I scowl. Damon acts as if I was in mortal danger.
To make the situation better, Chase joins us, glaring at Derek, who Damon still hasn’t released.
“He made a pass at me, that’s all!” I learn that my words do not have the intended effect.
Chase brings his face close to Derek’s. “Do not fucking touch her. Don’t even look her way or I will break every bone in that face of yours.”
“Stop this. It’s irritating me,” I warn them, putting a hand on Chase’s arm. Rhys and Marissa, naturally, show up, and Rhys takes one look at the situation before he hisses, dropping the school bags he dragged with him.
“Did he touch her?” Rhys growls, looming over me like I need backup.
“Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I smack my hand into Rhys’s chest. I’m starting to feel bad for Derek despite him being a Grade A jerk.
Damon lets Derek go. “Run,” he croons to Derek.
Derek flees while Marissa tries to calm her brother down.
“I’m okay,” I say, turning beet red. “Why are you all fussy?”
Damon’s eyes darken. “He tried to touch you? He tried to hit on you?” He swears. “What’s he thinking? Everyone knows you’re with us.”
I frown at them. “Really? I’m ‘with you’ and that claim dictates how people should act around me?” I’m worked up at this point and the next jumble of words come out recklessly. “Don’t forget, you three called me a whore, had your former whatever shame me publicly,” I say, narrowing my eyes on Rhys, “who then proceeded to throw condoms at me. Even if I actually was with one of you, do you think that suddenly makes me chaste and virginal after your public shaming?” The shame crawling on Rhys’s face halts me for a moment. “There are consequences – short and long term – for your behavior. It doesn’t just go away because you say you’re sorry.”
Chase’s hands tighten. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him and any asshole that thinks that kind of behavior is okay,” he swears under his breath.
My fury abates as quickly as it rose. “I didn’t mean to lash out like that. Sorry.”
“No, you’re right,” Damon says heavily. “It’s up to us to set things right.” His gray eyes meet mine. “Until that happens, you’re right to remind us.”
I nibble on my lower lip. As much as I want to pretend that I can let things go, I’m still too raw deep inside.
“What are you doing for Spring break?” It only takes a second for Marissa to recover and get to what she brought me over here for.
I shake my head, trying to focus on answering her question. Because I start moving towards the dorms, the others follow me. First, I feel like I explain how I don’t do anything for Spring break. Normally my days are spent lazing around the house or hanging with Cassie. I don’t tell them that once Cassie and I followed Cornelius around to see what he did and got into a buttload of trouble when he found us.
“Come to Napa with us. My mother owns a winery up there and we have an estate on the grounds,” Damon tells me like it’s a normal everyday thing. “I,” he hesitates, “that is, we want to spoil you a bit.”
“An estate in Napa, huh?” My lips curl a bit.
“It’s either that or we get dragged to Switzerland,” Marissa complains, trying to appeal to my love for her.
“Yup, you all are in the one percent, alright.” I sigh. “Let me think about it. Cassie might get dragged off to visit a cousin in Florida and if so, I’ll be on my own.”
“You can invite Cassie,” Damon offers, ignoring my disbelieving huff. He’s trying to bridge the distance I’ve wedged between us.
“What are we doing for dinner?” Chase interrupts. “Dining hall, takeout, or do we cook?”
“You never cook,” Marissa corrects him, her voice haughty.
“I say dining hall,” Rhys chimes in. “Damon and Juliet still have that paper to do.”
“Alright, dinner then we can crash in the boys’ lounge and do homework together.” Marissa grabs my arm, waving the boys off. “You three clean up. I would prefer not to smell your stink any longer.”
Chase rolls his eyes and the boys jostle each other as they head to their dorm. Marissa and I take the stairs – we’re on the third floor – to get a little exercise in. “Have you thought about which one you’re going to choose?” she asks me as we reach our floor. “Or will you keep them all hanging?”
I’m not daft. I know she’s talking about Chase, Rhys, and Damon paying attention to me. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I guess I don’t know if I want anything more than friendship right now.”
“Don’t tell them that!” Marissa shrieks, her blue eyes horrified. “You’ll break their hearts.”
As I reach my door, I find a small box addressed to me. Marissa is already in her room, so I drag the box in with me. The return address is unfamiliar – a generic PO box. I throw my bag onto the bed next to Officer Bear and look for a pair of scissors to cut through the tape.
I move aside the crumpled tissue paper to look at the contents and freeze. The box is filled with lollipops.
CHAPTER 18
The last thing Juliet remembered was walking to get milk. As she tried to get a sense of her surroundings, she knew she had something over her face – a bag? – and that her hands were tied. Her legs were bound, too, but she had some movement. The jostling and sounds told her that she was in a car, perhaps in the trunk because the air was stale and it was very warm. She could hear a song, but she couldn’t make out any words. Just some strange tune.
What had happened? How long had she been unconscious?
The car stopped and Juliet held her breath for a moment as she heard the car door open and then close. Her heart hammered so loud that she couldn’t focus. The trunk opened and through the dark fabric, she saw a brightness and felt the sun’s warmth, albeit briefly.
Hands at her neck. Yanked by her feet. A cloth pressed to her face. She fought, but no matter what she did, it became darker and darker. Perhaps she was dying already.
***
“You’re sure you didn’t touch anything inside the box?” Brad asks. He’s wearing gloves as he collects the box full of lollipops.
I recognize the brand, of course. You can pick a mess of them up in any store for a few dollars. It isn’t a coincidence that someone sent these to me. There’s nothing random about it. Someone knows that I am one of the Candyman victims and has sent me a reminder.
“I moved aside the tissues with fingers.” I rub my arms nervously. “Don’t tell Cassie. It will freak her out.”
Brad’s light brown eyes meet mine. “I’m freaking out, Jules. This isn’t a prank.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I haven’t told Marissa. I just told her I didn’t feel well.”
It only took Brad thirty minutes to get here. Once I messaged him, he got Joe’s permission to race over here. I hid in my room, telling Marissa via text that I felt unwell and needed to rest.
“I left messages with the detectives who worked on the case, although one’s already retired.” Brad finishes bagging the box, sealing it and I’m glad I don’t have to see it anymore. “It might be worth reaching out to the FBI profiler, too.”
“Don’t tell Dad either,” I say suddenly. “I don’t want him to worry.”
“Jules…”
I know. Brad hates keeping secrets and he’s worried. “Cassie is already a mess because of my breakdown. It’s probably nothing. Just a prank.” Even as I say it, I know I don’t believe it.
I try not to think of all the options. Someone who hates me who knows about me and Cassie. The Candyman had relatives. This could even be a copycat. But what’s the purpose? I’m eighteen. I’m past the Candyman’s target range. He’s dead, I say to myself. Deaddeaddeaddead.
“I’m going to see if we can get increased patrols in this area,” Brad decides, getting to his feet. He hesitates. “Jules, I don’t think leaving you here is a good idea.”
“I can’t let fear ruin my life.”
“You could be in danger.” Brad’s lips thin in annoyance. “Do you trust Marissa with this? You need to let someone know while I try and get this sorted.”
My head snaps up. I know that Brad sees the terror in my eyes. He wants to push, but he’s afraid of pushing too hard. I am not a victim. “I’m supposed to meet Marissa and the others if I feel better.” I lick my lips. “I’ll tell her.” My throat feels dry. “Walk with me?”
Brad follows me over to House 3. Of course, the boys have the top floor. As we get off the elevator, I see Damon first. His eyes narrow on me. Rhys is on a couch near the kitchenette reading Jane Eyre and Chase is getting tips from Marissa.
I’m not sure what alarms them more: my pale face or the fact that Brad is with me.
Marissa initially looks pleased to see Brad, but one look at me and she knows something is seriously wrong. She crosses over swiftly to put her arm around me. “What’s going on?” she asks, pulling me over to a chair to sit. “Are you still feeling unwell?”
I let Brad speak for me as I twist my fingers together. I am not a victim. I’m afraid to look at anyone directly.
“I need you all to keep this quiet until we finish the investigation,” Brad warns everyone. “If needed, we can add an extra security detail. God, Jules, we should let Cornelius know—”
“No!” I snap. “No, I don’t want Cassie and Corn freaking out, Brad. It could be nothing—”
Rhys stands up, tense. “Nothing? Someone just casually sends you this box of candy?”
I flinch and Marissa hisses at Rhys. “She won’t be alone,” Marissa assures Brad. “We’ll take turns.”
“Between classes should be fine, but no walking on your own between the dorms and main buildings,” Brad tells me. “No jogging alone.”
“That might put Marissa in danger if there is someone trying to get to me,” I murmur.
Marissa fluffs her hair. “I’m blond. Not part of the Candyman’s profile.”
Chase frowns at his twin. “We’ll make sure they both are safely in their rooms, sir,” he says, glancing at Rhys and Damon.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I brought this on you all,” I whisper brokenly.
“You’re part of our family now, Jules. We’ll handle this together,” Marissa says firmly. “Please believe me when I say you’re not going to deal with this alone.”
I nod stiffly, staring at Brad. “Don’t tell Dad, don’t tell Cassie, don’t tell Cornelius. Not until we know something. Promise me, Brad.”
“I promise.” Brad leans over to peck me on the head, exchanging a look with Marissa.
“I’ll walk you out,” Marissa volunteers.
When I’m left alone with the boys, Damon sits beside me, keeping a prudent distance between us. Chase solemnly brings me a frosted brownie he snagged from the dining hall. “Chocolate makes everything better according to my sister.”
