And then Michael crouched down in front of her.
It was hard to get her eyes to focus completely—or maybe the edges of Michael had grown soft and fuzzy anyway—but Brynna tried, noticing the downturned curve of his mouth.
“I’m not doing this with you, Bryn. Not anymore. I basically threw the whole match. I wasn’t even messed up, but that shit stays with you, I know it does.” His voice got soft as his lips pressed together, hard. “Look at you, baby, you’re a mess. You’ve got to stop this.”
There was a soft weight on Brynna’s leg, and when she looked down, she saw that it was Michael’s hand, pressing warmly. The sensation was nice at first, but then it sent the bugs crawling—tiny feet hammering through her veins, skittering across her skin. She brushed him off and yanked her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. There was blood on the heel of her hand. She couldn’t feel any pain, didn’t remember any, but there was a thick, red scratch there, a thousand tiny lines cross-hatching through her skin, each crossing oozing with its own bubble of velvet, red blood.
“Do you hear me, Bryn?”
The fat, red droplets were racing each other, this one going faster, this one getting bigger, this one finally breaking into a blue-red rivulet that trickled over the delicate skin on her wrist.
Michael was still talking. Brynna knew that, but the blood—the way it danced and tickled—was intoxicating, and she was drawn. It made her happy to see the red freeing itself from her veins, from the tight restraint of her body. She wished she could do that. She wished she could be free.
“I love you, Bryn, but not like this.”
The blood moved slower now, the lush color turning to a dirty rust as it congealed and settled. Brynna’s own heart seemed to slow with the motion, and when she looked up, Michael was gone.
Brynna’s voice was barely a whisper. “Michael got addicted to drugs?”
“No,” Ella spat. “Someone just said he did. And planted a huge stash on him. Gee, wonder who that could’ve been?”
“I never called Michael. I never called his parents.”
“Of course you didn’t! It’s just damn convenient that he gets picked up right as you move to another city. What an alibi! ‘I was living somewhere else; it couldn’t possibly have been me!’”
Brynna’s mind was reeling as Ella began hurling insults. Who could have called in Michael? Why would they have done that?
“Ella—” Brynna tried to break in, but Ella wouldn’t let her, going on in a breathless chatter.
“Why’d you do it, Bryn? Jay and I have been trying to figure it out. What did you get out of it? Or were you just feeling awfully lonely as the only drugged-up loser in the loony bin?”
“I wasn’t in—it was a rehab program. The court made me go.” Her head was throbbing, each pulse telling her it was futile to answer, even to defend herself. “I would never do that to Michael. He knows I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“So is that why you’re calling? Because I’m next on your little hit list? Off Erica, get rid of Michael, and now me? A little pissed because when you went off the deep end, Michael came to me for comfort?”
Brynna swallowed hard. The thought of Ella and Michael together really didn’t bother her. But the thought of an anonymous call, Michael being sent away, and everyone from her past thinking that she “offed” her best friend did.
“Don’t ever call here again, Brynna.”
Stunned, Brynna held the phone to her ear until the little electric beeps sounded.
Brynna lay back in her bed, her emotions roiling inside her. Was the same person that was targeting her targeting her old friends back at Lincoln? She couldn’t take a second reviling phone call, but she could do the next best thing. She slid out her laptop and tapped in her password. A cool breeze washed over Brynna as her computer sprang to life with the usual cache of cheerful wallpaper and no new messages.
“At least there’s that,” she whispered to herself.
The night outside was an eerie, moonlit silver the next time Brynna looked up. She stretched, hearing her bones pop and crack as she put her laptop aside and peeled her legs from their pretzeled position. She had trailed Jay, the other kid who was at the campfire that night, on the Internet, holding her breath and silently praying that he wouldn’t have been disfigured in some horrible accident or suddenly have gone missing. Thankfully, he was a senior at another high school now, an all-star forward on the football team, and had been awarded a scholarship to an impressive university. He was fine, and other than her cancerous anger, Ella was unharmed as well. Michael could very well have made his own way into the wilderness program—the anonymous call could have been a lie or someone who knew Michael well. But knowing that her old friends were safe didn’t make Brynna feel any better.