Dirty roulette, p.29
Dirty Roulette, page 29
Phoebe: Have you watched any TV or looked at the news?
Payton: No
Phoebe: Don’t freak out. Your friend hit the local news. If you haven’t read the news you probably shouldn’t.
I dismiss her warning about looking at the news and immediately scroll through my news feed. It’s lost and embedded in my everyday notifications, but finally I see it – a young female at GCU has gone missing. Charlie's senior year picture stares at me through the screen. Her curls, the grey eyes she shares with her brother, the dimples. The only girl in the universe that can be a complete “mean girl”– but still make sure I comb my hair before leaving the house – has the official “missing” label.
CHARLOTTE HENDERSON MISSING
Charlotte Henderson was last seen after an assault at a local concert venue. Her whereabouts are unknown at this time. Law enforcement is asking the community to call the police department if anyone has any information about the incident.
Phoebe: Payton...
Payton: She’s missing???? Oh my god!
Phoebe: Don’t freak out. She’ll turn up.
Payton: I fucked up. It’s all my fault. I lied to Charlie!
Phoebe: You lied?
Payton: I was sleeping with Ryder...
Phoebe: O.M.G he took your virginity?
Payton: This is all my fault. None of this would have happened if I just told her the truth to begin with.
Phoebe: It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t be moving back in with your Mum. Pack your bags, bitch, you’re staying here.
Within an hour, Phoebe rolls up into the driveway with her headlights beaming through the windows. The night is dark, and she’s a shadow walking up the steps and breaking into the trailer. I’m a pure replica of her. If we were sisters we’d be twins, but born five years apart. The long brown hair, the freckles on the nose, and big-big blue eyes. It’s grandad’s genes. We grab my duffle bag and pack it in the trunk before she kidnaps me.
On the drive to her house, she tells me to spill and everything comes up. Dirty Roulette, stealing booze from Mr. Clorox, and landing on Ryder the moment he walked in. Kissing him, then it turned into us messing around, how he made every atom of my body come alive, and catching feelings like it’s the flu.
When it comes down to the concert, all of it seems to click into Phoebe’s head. The second I mention the two football players harassing me in the hallways, and the photos of me getting posted online. She loses it.
“You realize Brody is breaking the law. Hazing is illegal, and that’s exactly what he did. He hazed you guys.” She peels into the driveway, fighting with the gears and putting her car in park.
“Yeah...” I say and unbuckle myself. Phoebe shuts off the engine, and it winds down and there is nothing but the sound of crickets and still air.
“Why didn’t you just tell Charlie you were dating her brother? Lying never gets you anywhere.”
“I dunno... it was stupid. I figured she would hate me entirely if I had a thing for him.”
“It’s so common for best friends to fall for the older brother. That’s such a cliché in society.” She huffs and flashes me a pitiful smile. “You really liked Ryder, didn’t you?” she asks, shuffling around to grab her purse she threw in the back seat.
“I still do...”
“Well, let’s make tea. We have leftovers you can eat. A shower and sleep will do you some good. I can drive you to the campus tomorrow.” She opens the car door before climbing out.
***
The next morning, I plop down on the dining room table. Dried food is caked on the scraped wood, and half-eaten mushy cereal is left unattended by the two toddlers running the house like a mob boss.
Phoebe sits hunched over, scrolling through her phone with disheveled hair and the droopy eyes of pure motherhood exhaustion. She nurtures her coffee, sipping on it.
“How did you sleep?” she asks.
“Rolled over on some legos, but otherwise okay, I guess. Definitely better than at my Mum’s.”
She smiles slightly, “I’ll never get over that New York State accent of yours.” She puckers her lips and nods her head. “Fair enough though...” She slurps on her coffee, as the twin girls argue over some toy car. “I don’t think you should quit college.”
“Kinda hard not to...”
“But then you let this Brody asshole win. Do you realize how many celebs have leaked sex tapes?”
“Yeah, but they are famous. They still make money and profit from it. I had to turn off my phone last night. Guys are disgusting. I had some voicemail of some sicko jerking his shit.”
“Lovely.” Phoebe lifts a brow.
How do I put my feet back on the ground? Cops can’t do shit when it comes to the internet. Once it’s posted, it’s like the needle and ink of a tattoo. It’s permanent. I can scrub it and tear my flesh off, but it’s not going away.
“At some point, it will catch up with that asshole. He’s gonna mess with the wrong person and they’re gonna tear him to pieces.”
“Yeah... Well. I guess I’ll go shower. Do you mind driving me back in a little bit?”
“Yeah. I’ll take you.” She smiles.
We leave within forty-five minutes. I keep a low profile and stay in the vicinity of people and security. Cops are still all over campus. No matter where I went, one was talking to students, holding a photograph of Charlie.
I try to focus, but my brain refuses to think straight. Nothing can remove the knife lodged in my chest. Nothing feels normal or the same. It’s all backwards. I try to figure out when I died and was put into another reality to finish my mission on this stupid planet I’ve been cursed to.
My last class ended up being canceled, but the assignments were still posted online for us to complete. I sit down at a bench by the parking lot, putting in my information to grab an Uber to head back to my cousins when text messages pop up on top of my screen.
Noah: Can you swing by the store? I need to talk.
Payton: Sure. I’m leaving campus right now.
Noah: Okay, I’ll be here.
Smokey Vinyl was a short ride. When fresh air hits my nostrils, I hightail it away from the Toyota Prius. It looked like a tampon on wheels, and it reeked of smelly feet and too many people catching rides with him. The Uber driver was singing along to Mariah Carey, and my ears were bleeding.
The front door is covered in new posters for bands playing locally and different upcoming concerts. The bell chimes as I walk in. The familiar scent of cigarettes burnt into the carpet greets me.
Noah uses a switchblade to cut open a box of new merchandise. It looks like a bunch of shirts in a variety of different colors and sizes.
“Hi...” I say. Noah looks up at me, pushing a long strand of hair behind his ears. Gosh, he puts my locks to shame with how shiny and undamaged his ends are. I test the waters with a lame joke to break the tension, “have you ever thought of making your last name Fence?”
Teeth peek through his lips in the smallest of smiles as he blew a laugh out of his nose. “Screw you.” The switchblade waves at me.
“Noah... Fence... get it... No offense.”
“I’ve heard that a couple of times. Shit ain’t happening.” The brief smile sinks and dissolves quicker than a raccoon washing cotton candy. His lips curl out dejectedly.
Sweat puddles in my palms as I coil them into tight balls. “Are you okay?” I ask.
His dark eyes stare at the box, picking at the tan tape sealing everything inside. “I thought she would have turned up by now. ”
“I know...” I swallow hard.
He places the knife on the counter and takes a lungful of air. His eyes glance away like they are starved and everything inside him is beaten to nothing.
“She broke up with me, and it didn’t make any sense...” He pauses, curling his lips over his teeth and staring into the carpet. I’m tangled up in the pain tattooed on his face. “She came over that morning and we...” He swallows, the words dripping off his tongue. “I... we... fuck...” He runs both hands through his hair. My heart batters, bruising the flesh inside my ribs. Not another word needed to be said.
“I’m sorry...” I lick my chapped lips, my tongue dries up sticking to the roof of my mouth.
“The whole time... she told me she was in love with me.”
Everything inside me rots hearing what he says. Charlie never uses the L word with guys. A host of emotions crisscross his face, mixed with pain and anger. None of it makes sense. Tears gum up in my throat, it burns, and the saltiness meets my taste buds. “That doesn’t sound like her.”
“She came backstage.” He circles his finger around, his eyes haze over as he recounts it. “Threw her drink at me and ended it right before we performed... told me she lied, never wanted to see me again. She didn’t explain why, she just cried storming off.” Noah rubs the edge of his nose with the back of his hand and sniffles.
“She never tells guys she loves them... Charlie always ended things with anyone before that feeling even surfaced.”
“Wow...” He runs his hands over his face and tilts his head back. The sky is falling and raining down, crushing us with every horrible feeling it can drop. “She was pissed at you, and decided to stay here with me until she figured out her living situation,” he mentions.
I slump my sagging body against the counter. “I don’t blame her, I was lying about messing around with her brother... It sucks, I think I broke my own heart by dumping him.”
Eyebrows slide up his forehead. “It was obvious the minute he dragged you out of the hot tub that he cared about you.”
“Yeah...”
“Is he always pissed off at the world?” Noah asks.
I run my tongue over my teeth and huff. “Only when Charlie and I do stupid things.”
“He freaked me out at that party, but if I had a little sister I’d probably be the same.”
“Well, I’m sure I messed up that relationship too.” Regret for everything I ever did wrong seeps like rot through my bones. The lies eat away at my flesh like an awful decaying body with nothing left but the trench they were dumped in.
“Brody drugged us both...” The bulge in my throat wrenches up and down.
The assault of the words hit Noah straight in his face, and he’s swarmed with emotions. His eyes water, and he presses his fingers deep into his sockets. “Fuck!”
Acid slicks the back of my throat. “I honestly don’t remember much.”
“We played but left right afterward. My Gramps was rushed to the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“He had a stroke and hasn’t been responsive.”
My stomach sinks and fills with cement of dread with those words. “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”
“I can’t think straight. She’s missing, he’s dying. I can’t...”
“Close up and go down there and be with him. Don’t waste your time here.”
“Yeah...” Noah says.
It takes a couple of minutes before he agrees to close the store and leave. Pain radiates off him and I stay until he locks up the doors and heads to his car. I sit on the cement parking barrier watching traffic and waiting for another Uber driver to pick me up.
Chapter forty
Payton
Driving a stick shift is a bitch. I was used to cruising in Ryder’s Jeep whenever I got the chance, but this is the boss level of an obnoxious video game I keep losing, and I’m about to rage quit. It’s so stressful.
“Turn left here.” Noah points a finger, his voice dripping with laughter as I’ve stalled the little Volkswagen four times in the past five minutes. I grip the old-school steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white against the neon-blue leather. “Now ease your foot on the clutch, and shift into first gear,” He eyeballs me, with a stupid smirk. “You got this, princess.”
“Okay,” I try to convince myself I can switch gears without messing up again, but my palms sweat against the gear stick. I can dance, do the splits, and a million back handsprings, but I can’t even learn how to drive this stupid Beetle my Mum bought in order to bribe me to never come back to the house again.
“Like this?” I ask, pushing the stick, but the car jerks, launching us forward and Noah’s head acts like one of those bobbleheads as it stalls. “Shit!”
Noah’s head falls into the headrest and he digs his fingers into his hair and erupts into laughter. “We are never gonna make it to the concert at this rate.”
“Shut up! I didn’t think it would be this hard!” I’m pissed, but I giggle. We are legit stuck in a Walmart parking lot, and all I’ve done is manage to back out of the parking space. Oh, and get glares from the random assortment of people who trolly out with shopping carts. There is also a monstrous line of cars behind us.
“Try again. Be easy with it,” he says, still chuckling. I take a deep breath, press the clutch with my big toe, and try to shift into first gear again. This time, the car creeps forward. “Oh, my God! It’s moving!” I squeal in glee, bouncing in my seat, my cheeks hurting from smiling. The tires are moving, but then it starts to sputter and shake, stalling again.
“You’re killing it, princess. I’m so proud of you.” The sarcasm leaks off his tongue as he rests an arm on the back of the seat. The cocky grin and eyebrow lift sent my jaw dropping and I punched him in the shoulder.
“You jerk!! I didn’t know it was a stick shift when I got it!”
“Okay, who dyed your hair black because you act blonde!” He asks.
He just went there. “Okay smartass, I’m a brunette for your information. You better sleep with one eye open bitch, because I will shave your hair off!”
“Whoa, whoa!” He chuckles, holding out the palm of his hands. “No need to resort to violence.”
“Noah Fence, you suck at teaching!”
“Oh, we’re going back to Noah puns I see.” I don’t think I have laughed this hard in a long time. My heart pitter-patters and a spark of happiness melts back into my bloodstream. Happy is foreign and has been for a while.
After a few more tries, I managed to get the hang of driving. I was good enough that Noah let me attempt the back roads to the little venue they were playing at tonight. He sang along with me to some Killswitch Engage, hitting the heavy chorus in the car, while I attempted the softer portions of the song. He even tried teaching me how to sing through my diaphragm and growl like he does, but I just made my throat sore as hell by the time I parked at the venue.
I dunno how, or why, but Noah calling was the only thing to knock some sense into me. He convinced me to change my number and even had me shut down all of my social media. I pretty much don’t exist. I’ve been a bit glued to him the last two weeks. I got caught up blaming myself for Charlie missing, and all the flyers taped to windows of stores was my doing. Ryder severed his connection with me. Since he came over that morning drunk, we haven’t spoken one word.
Omen, Vince, and Tony are supportive and I can see myself being good friends with them. Regret washes over me for not accepting Charlie’s invites to hang out more. Hot tubs, heavy guitar solos, and late nights with beer took off the edge. Omen was always turning Noah’s skin into a canvas – letters on his knuckles spelling out “Wolf and Sheep” to commemorate the band’s name.
Noah’s grandfather passed away a few days after I heard about his stroke. Noah took a beating from losing the only father figure he had, and Charlie dumping him and vanishing into thin air was the icing on the cake. Smoky Vinyl is still open, but Noah is struggling to pay an attorney to help guide him through the trust his grandfather left him.
It clicked after a while why Charlie liked him so much. The guy has the voice of a siren, and somehow he keeps an infectious smile when a raging fire burns at every corner of his life. He’s more human than the guys Charlie ever dated. He’s different and raw, and when he’s on stage, the lyrics mess with my head. I asked him if he put his life into the songs they wrote, but he’s rather adamant he doesn’t want people picking apart his trauma, even though I feel the emotions engraved in them.
Once the concert is over, Noah helps me drive back to the dorms. It’s way past midnight when I pull up next to his classic red Chevy truck. It’s my second night back and I’m not sure how I feel.
“Good job, princess. You didn’t stall once this time. Tomorrow we should hit the highway, and I think you have it down.” Noah unbuckles, opens the door, and slips out. I shut off the engine and grab my purse before I get out. Noah leans an arm over the roof of the beetle. “So, are you gonna be busy this weekend?”
“Yeah, I have to fly out to Columbus Ohio,” I say, rubbing my heavy eyes with a hand. “I can’t wait until the season is over, but I have four more months of pure torture.” I paw through my purse, pushing around random receipts I don't need, searching for my dorm key stuffed at the very bottom. “I just want to forget everything, y’know?” I find the keys and it’s got random lipstick on it, and residue smears on my fingers. I’m guessing it melted since I left it in the car today.
“I know I don’t ask, but does he even try to talk to you?”
“Ryder?”
“Yeah...”
“Umm...no, but I can’t blame him. And he hasn’t played in the last two games. Brody is apparently still pretty messed up, so he hasn’t been to any of the games either. I think this is the first game Ryder is coming back.” I wipe the lipstick on the side of my leggings. “He was at practice this week, but I pretty much don’t exist. I’m kinda used to people being close to me and then suddenly they’re gone.”
“I thought I was the only one.”
“Only one?”
“Getting close to someone and one Tuesday afternoon they stop talking to you without explanation. It was always girls, too. I’d get close to them, and we’d hang twenty-four seven. They’d know a lot of my baggage and one day they get up and bounce.”
