I cocked my head, studying my pair of friends. In the time we’d stood talking, my cheeks had grown warm. Liam was disappearing down the hall. I thought vaguely that I’d like to catch up with him. Paisley snapped her fingers in front of my nose, bringing me back. I knew I should be annoyed with her, but instead, I felt my mouth stretching into a grin.
“Thanks, Paisley,” I said. “You … look really pretty tonight, you know that?” And I was surprised at how sincere I sounded. It was true, though. A faint glow seemed to radiate from her blond hair. Her skin had a fairylike shimmer emanating from it. I squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of tenderness for my friend. “Isn’t this night great?” I said.
Paisley’s expression was a confused mix between a grin and a frown. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I guess so.”
There was a swelling in my chest, like a rising balloon, and it seemed to be plugging up the gaping hole that had been there moments earlier. “Okay, well, I’m going to go catch up with Liam. I’ll see you guys there? Come dance with us!” I didn’t know how I knew that Liam and I would be dancing. But it felt logical. I waved and trotted down the hall in the direction Liam had gone.
I smiled as I passed kids that I only sort of recognized from school. They smiled back. The interaction felt good. It felt right. My veins hummed with a molten warmth so pleasant that I felt as though I’d just had a weeklong spa trip.
I returned to the living room where less than an hour ago I’d sulked in the corner. There I spotted the back of Liam’s head, peeking out over the crowded space. I threaded my way through the throng of people, politely excusing myself as we bumped elbows or hips. From the kitchen a nineties boy band song blared through the speakers. The beat matched the thumping in my chest. I remembered this song from car rides with my mom when I was younger. It was one of my favorites.
I tapped Liam on the shoulder. He was chatting with one of the sophomore girls that had been sneaking glances at me with her friends earlier in the night. When Liam looked down to see me standing there, his face seemed to break open with delight.
“Hey, you,” he said.
I matched his smile watt for watt. “Wanna dance?” I asked. “I love this song.”
He cocked his head to listen and then began bobbing along to the melody. He offered me his hand and twirled me in place. Laughter gurgled up from deep inside me, spilling out into the room. I couldn’t believe how long it’d been since I’d laughed.
Liam and I threw our bodies into the music. Others joined us and before long, a circle had formed to watch the pair of us. I didn’t take myself too seriously when I danced and neither did Liam. I brought out all my dad’s dorky dance moves—the lawn mower, the running man, even the sprinkler. Tears sparkled in my eyes from all of the merriment. I’d forgotten how much I loved dancing, not for cheerleading, but for the fun of it.
Liam leaned close to my ear. His breath tickled and he smelled like coconut shampoo. “You’re the most fun girl at this party.”
And I believed him. Because all of a sudden it was as if the clouds had lifted and there I still was, shining again.
TWO
Marcy
An eerie green glow was cast by a neon sign in the shape of a pair of boots that hung over a slick, pinewood bar. The club was dimly lit with places to disappear into the shadows for those who wanted to. Those who were like me.
I’d been here before. I knew that in the academic sense. Only this time felt different. I rested my elbows on the counter and pretended to wait for a bartender while I searched the faces gathered there for one that I recognized. No luck.
I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd. Come out, come out, wherever you are, I thought darkly.
The small town of Dearborn, which neighbored Hollow Pines, only had a few hot spots to serve all of the college’s campus. This was by far the most popular.
Five faces had been seared into my memory. When I recognized none of them at the bar, I slinked into the mass of clubgoers. My mind flashed through the lineup of them. Nameless. Heartless. They could only hide for so long.
I reached my hand into the light jacket I was wearing. A wash of comfort blanketed me as my finger traced the blunt side of the knife stashed inside the pocket.
Strobe lights flashed across the dance floor. I studied the face of every boy that I saw. Laughing. Smiling. Drinking from frothy cups. In the cutting lights, they all looked like they had fangs. I stroked the hidden blade, biding my time. Soon, I told it. Soon.
And in a soft voice, I began to sing:
“Hide and seek, hide and seek,
In the dark, they all will shriek,
Seek and hide, seek and hide,
Count the nights until they’ve died.”
THREE
Cassidy
When I was a kid, I had a name for that place between sleeping and wakefulness. I called it Sleep Space. As in outer space. That little pocket of time when I was so relaxed in bed that I was practically weightless, a black hole between two different universes, left dreaming in no-man’s-land.