The Wicked Trilogy by S. Massery
Margo
I wakeup to Ian watching me. Again.
“This isn’t going to work.” I need to leave—or that door needs a lock.
The room is cast in shadow. Only the light from the hallway illuminates a vertical bar across his body.
“Relax,” he says. “I wasn’t here long. You were mumbling about your mom.”
I push myself into a sitting position and reach over, turning on the lamp.
We both wince at the sudden brightness.
“You sure do sleep a lot,” he adds.
“I didn’t get much last night.” My face catches on fire almost immediately, and I cover my eyes. “Oh god.”
“Naughty. Anyway, here’s the key to my room. Keep it locked if you go to the bathroom or something.” He tosses it on the bed and stands, brushing off his legs. “People are starting to arrive.”
I jump up. “Already?”
He shrugs. “Well, it’s eight o’clock. There are always some early birds.”
“You’re being nice.” And that makes me suspicious.
“Don’t read too much into this, Wolfe.” He gets up and saunters out of the room, his hands in his pockets.
I stare after him for a moment, contemplating. He’s never nice. I need to hide out and then get the hell out of here. I grab my bag and shoes and straighten the bed, slipping down the hall. Voices carry up the stairs, giggling girls and a boy’s low response.
Ian’s room is kind of what I would’ve expected. The walls are gray-blue; his bedding matches in darker tones. There’s a lacrosse stick on his desk and a helmet beside it. The rest of his room is pretty much spotless. Closed black closet doors, plush carpet instead of hardwood.
I drop my bag and sit on the edge of his bed. Music kicks on downstairs, loud enough to vibrate the floorboards.
I slide to the floor and dig through the bag, pulling out my phone. I’ve avoided it, but now I turn it on. There are too many missed calls, and half from Riley. Another half dozen from Caleb. A few from Robert and Lenora. And texts. So many texts.
I click on my conversation thread with Riley.
Riley: OMG, where are you? Caleb just burst in on Eli and I…
My mouth drops open.
Me: You had sex with Eli?!
Riley: Not what’s important right now, Margo! WHERE ARE YOU?
I bite my lip. I can’t answer. What if she tells?
Me: Somewhere not obvious… I hope.
Riley: I’m scowling at you right now. Just so you know.
Me: I need space.
She doesn’t respond. I guess that’s space.
I’ve tried for years to avoid loneliness. To push away everyone and everything in an effort to fortify myself. I changed homes frequently. At ten, I made attachments wherever I went. By twelve...
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