“Because she’s a bitch and he’s codependent. She doesn’t trust him as far as she can throw him and bitches and picks on him all the time. And he just takes it. It makes me so angry. I wish he would just speak up for himself for once.”
There was about ten seconds of quiet before Hannah started rambling again. But this time it wasn’t about Ted and Claire at all. It was about alligator wrestling. The girl was a kook, but Allie liked that.
It made her feel less odd.
For the rest of the walk Allie tuned the girl out, because with each step, the sensation that she was being watched was growing stronger. Every time she heard a twig snap in the distance, she walked a little faster. Piglet seemed nervous, too. She growled stiffly from her place in the backpack.
Allie was also becoming more nervous about Miss Bitty finding out they’d snuck out. Now that she wasn’t so consumed with jealousy, she was thinking much more clearly—and the idea of sneaking out was looking like a truly awful idea. Plus with the storm coming— “. . . and he’s too weak to stand up for himself, you know? Watching it really pisses me off . . . ,” Hannah was saying, words leaving her mouth at warp speed. She had changed the subject back to Ted and Claire. “But he’s a Cancer, so it’s just natural that he’s going to want to avoid confrontation.”
“Huh? He has cancer?”
“No, silly. I mean his sign.”
“Sign?”
Hannah stopped walking. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah. I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hannah put a hand on her hip. “Cancers are notorious for wanting to avoid confrontation. You do know that, right?”
“Uh, no.”
Hannah sounded incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously, don’t you people know anything?”
Allie felt her face flush. “You people?”
“Yeah, you know, Southerners. Bayou folk . . . country people,” she said, enunciating each syllable slowly, as though Allie needed her to.
Was this girl calling her unintelligent? Stupid even?
“Oh God. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I said that,” Hannah said. She reached out and tried to hug Allie, but Allie shoved her away.
For one, she was highly insulted. Two, she wasn’t totally used to hugging yet.
Suddenly, Hannah’s face was so close to hers, she could feel her warm breath. “I like you. I really do. Please don’t be mad.” Allie heard her grab her tin and open it again. “God. Maybe I took too many pills and it’s, like, seriously fucking with my head. I mean, I would never say anything like that. I don’t even think that way.”
Allie backed away from the girl. “Do you even care about all that food crap that you talked to Miss Bitty about?” Allie asked.
“Yeah, I do. Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t anybody? We eat the shit, so shouldn’t we care?”
“So what you’re saying is you’d rather kill yourself with pills that make you sound like a total jackass than by eating things that taste good like Hamburger Helper or mashed potato flakes?”
“The pills help me escape for a little while. I need to, sometimes . . . or I’ll just go crazy.”
There was that word again. A word Allie really wanted to just forget.
Allie started walking again, this time much faster. She was practically jogging.
“Hey, wait up for me!” Hannah called.
A few minutes later, the girls emerged from the woods and saw the side of Allie’s childhood house in the distance. Allie frowned. It looked as though a light was on inside.
But when she blinked, it was gone.
CHAPTER 42
HANNAH STOPPED SHORT at the front porch, the beam of her flashlight frozen on the splintering stairs.
“Relax. It’s just a dead cat,” Allie said, a brisk wind blowing strands of hair into her face.
“Just a dead cat? Come on, it’s kinda disgusting, alright?”
Ignoring the girl, Allie drew a deep breath and pushed past her. When she reached the front door, she turned and saw that Hannah hadn’t moved. “Jesus, Hannah. Move your ass or we’ll just go back. I didn’t want to come here in the first place. Remember?”
Hannah stared at the house, her beam illuminating the gutted window and the graffiti. She wavered on her feet as though she were about to fall.
“Are you okay?” Allie asked, pointing her beam at the girl.
The girl’s eyes looked a little vacant for a moment, but she quickly snapped out of it. “Yeah, but stop shining the light in my face. It’s giving me a migraine.”
A cold raindrop hit Allie’s forehead. She looked skyward and one struck the tip of her nose. “Shit,” she muttered. “The storm’s already here. C’mon. Let’s make this fast.”
She pushed the front door and it opened with a creak.
“Wait for me!” Hannah hissed, scrambling up the steps.
Once inside, the first thing Allie noticed in the living room was the television. Someone had taken it from her brother’s bedroom into the living room, which meant someone had been inside the house since she’d last been there.
She shivered, staring at the television set, memories of watching it with her brother over the years flashing before her eyes. Watching TV with him had always been a strange experience. She used to watch him go pale and grip the sides of the couch when certain images triggered him. Images of scantily clad women. Anything oversexualized on the television screen had seemed to disturb him.
“I can’t believe you grew up here,” Hannah whispered as the two moved through the living room. Her eyes found the gaping hole in the kitchen floor. “Oh my God. Were there bodies down there?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, someone did if they bothered to dig that huge hole.”
Allie went to the back window and watched rain strike the glass.
“It’s freaking cold in here,” Hannah complained.
Allie noticed it, too. The house was freezing. Suddenly, a chill inched up her spine, crawling to the base of her neck. Trembling, she hugged her body and stood as still as possible. It could be him reaching out, she thought, thinking of her brother. It totally could.
Or . . . it could be her.