He's Come Undone (8 page)

~ Ellie ~

I pushed the red button at the entry to Charlotte’s dorm and waited for a reply, letting out a sigh of relief when she answered.

“It’s Ellie,” I said. “I need to see you.”

The glass door buzzed. I opened it, then held a foot inside while I grabbed two large black trash bags.

“Sure you don’t want me to go up with you?” Devon asked.

I’d come clean and told him everything, and he’d given me a ride to campus so I could drop off the clothes the girls had bought. Some of the items still had tags on them, so they could easily be returned. The red dress and bra? Doubtful.

“No, that’s okay. I have to walk to The Drink to get my bike anyway.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting at home with hair color.” He put a finger to his chin. “I’m thinking of going a little darker than your natural shade, what do you say?”

“Whatever you think.”

“Well, I was actually thinking lavender. But on the other hand, it might be best for you to get back to your real self.”

I looked at him standing there in his skinny red jeans, black boots, and striped boat-neck shirt. “You’re amazing.”

“I know.” He turned and hurried back to his car before someone came along to ticket him.

I went inside. Up the stairs to the third floor.

“I’m quitting,” I said as soon as Charlotte answered my knock. She was wearing gym shorts, a white T-shirt, no bra, and what appeared to be zero makeup. She was stunning.

I walked into the room and dropped the bags on the floor. “Sue me, but I’m done. It’s over. All the clothes are here. Shoes, dresses, pants, Paige’s coat, everything. I can’t pay you back right now for the advance, but I will.”

“You know,” Charlotte said. “I’d probably be okay with this, but I doubt the other girls will agree. We’ll have to take a vote. And Paige…Paige is going to be furious.”

“Whatever she throws at me, I’m ready. I deserve it. I should have known better. I did know better.”

She closed the door; it was just the two of us in the room. “What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t think he’s the creep you guys think he is. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think he’s genuine.”

“Oh, Ellie. So did we. So did we! You fell for him, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

I couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

“And what was it like? Wait, don’t tell me. Amazing. I already know.”

I was getting a sick feeling about this. I should have just left the bags at the door and ran. The last thing I needed to hear was how great he’d been.

“Did you guys do it all night? And did he leave the next morning, then return with coffee, and you did it again?”

A heaviness came over me.

“You did, didn’t you?”

No need to answer. She could see the truth on my face.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry we dragged you into this. I didn’t think about how you’d fall for him. I was just thinking about getting him back. But I can tell you what’ll happen now. You won’t hear from him again. And in a day or two you’ll see him with another girl. And if you meet him face-to-face, he’ll smile at you and give you a nod. And you know what? That’s worse. Worse than if he just ignored you, because it means he remembers you but doesn’t care. Just doesn’t care.”

She dropped down on the bed and began to cry. Charlotte, with her beautiful dark hair and her gorgeous skin and long legs and beautiful breasts. If he hadn’t been attracted to her, how could he possibly have been attracted to me?

And even though I was hurting like hell, I sat down next to her and gave her a hug, at the same time never more aware of my ratty clothes and torn tights and scuffed boots. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose, then looked at me with glistening eyes. “Thanks. You’re so sweet. I hope the girls don’t vote to sue you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I got to my feet. “Text if you need to get in touch with me,” I told her.

I left the building, stepping out into the early afternoon. The air was turning cool again, and I could smell fall. For once, that smell didn’t make me feel better. Then I headed in the direction of home, where Devon would be waiting to transform me back into my old boring self.

~ Julian ~

Cold water hit me in the face, and I came to with a gasp followed by choking to find Coach Rice standing over me with a bottle in his hand. “Get up, Dye. Get up and get your ass in gear before dark.”

I rolled to my knees, then got slowly to my feet, swayed a bit, waited for the world to stabilize, then took off again.

Five miles to go. Easy.

Long-distance running is more about the brain than the body. The point always comes when you don’t think you can take another step, when everything is screaming, but then something happens. Probably the same thing that happens when people freeze to death. The pains stops and your body goes on autopilot. Lame description, but that’s how it is. You become this consciousness that’s just along for the ride. It’s a good place to be, and it’s the place I crave. Most of the time. If it doesn’t kill me.

I wasn’t even aware of finishing.

Once your body has been moving rhythmically for a long time, it’s hard to make it stop. It’s hard to get that signal from your brain to your legs.

When I hit the twenty-mile mark, I kept going. Not with purpose, but with confusion, just this pathetic kind of limp-run, going in circles, trying to get my brain to figure out what to do next.

A car stopped beside me. Coach Rice. I recognized him, knew who he was in relationship to me, but couldn’t place his purpose in this moment, on this street.

“Go home,” he shouted to me from the car. “Go home and do fifteen miles tomorrow.” Then he took off.

Home. I could do that. I knew where home was.

I turned and headed that direction, distantly wondering where my car was, unable to figure it out, not caring to figure it out. My legs cramped when I tried to walk, so I jogged until I finally found my house and my door. No key. Where were my keys?

I clawed at the door. It opened and I crawled inside and collapsed on the kitchen floor.

This time I came around to find my sister bent over me, repeating my name. I blinked, tried to bring her into focus, tried to lift my head, and gave up.

“I’m calling 911,” she said, her voice full of panic.

“No.” It was supposed to be a shout. Instead, it came out a croak. “I’ll be okay. I need water. Food.”

“My God, Julian.”

She brought me a glass of water, and I scooted into a half-sitting position, my back to the wall. The room spun a little, but I tried to ignore it. I accepted the glass, my hand shaking like hell. Water splashed on my leg, but I finally got the glass to my mouth and swallowed. That was immediately followed by a need to throw up.

I stumbled to my feet, ran to the bathroom, puked, then collapsed on the floor.

Valerie had followed me, and now she stood in the doorway, arms crossed at her chest, worry lines between her eyes. And even when she wasn’t worried, those lines were there, thanks in large part to me. I felt bad about that, and like always, I tried to reassure her.

“Get me some ice,” I said once she seemed a little less alarmed. “I have to start slow.”

“How far did you run?”

My brain was functioning a little better now. “Twenty miles.” Then I remembered that I’d run home too. “Twenty-three.”

“Jesus, Julian. That’s too much, especially so near the marathon. You should be cutting back.”

I staggered to my feet then launched myself in the direction of the living room and couch. I didn’t tell her about the coach, and I wasn’t sure I’d tell her about Ellie. Well, I would, but not about the last twenty-four hours.

Ellie.

I should call her. Text her. “Where’s my phone?”

“I don’t know.” She handed me a bowl of ice and looked out the window. “I don’t even see your car. Where’s your car?”

As I lay on the sofa sucking on ice, it all started coming back to me. “On campus.” Along with my wallet and phone.

“You’re pushing yourself too much.”

“I know.”

Somehow I managed to make it upstairs to my bed where I collapsed and fell into a deep sleep, not waking up until morning.

Downstairs, I was able to eat breakfast without throwing up. My body ached, but not as much as I thought it might. I turned on the small television on the kitchen counter. Halfway through morning news, the woman on the screen said something that caught my attention, something about the identity of the girl in the red dress, the girl in the red dress being Ellie.

I grabbed the remote and punched up the volume.

The woman talked about the YouTube video that had been posted a week ago and how it had five million hits.

“An anonymous caller tipped us off to the identity of the young woman,” the blond girl on the screen said in her perky morning voice. “She’s none other than Evangeline Barlow. And who is Evangeline Barlow, you might ask?” She turned to her co-host, a guy in a suit. “Do you remember the sitcom
Mad Maddy
?”

He frowned and shrugged. “Sounds a little familiar.”

The woman laughed. “It was a show for girls, I guess. I have to confess to watching it. As soon as I got home from school, that TV came on and I was glued to it for the next thirty minutes. I loved me some
Mad Maddy
.”

“So the girl in the video is the girl who played Mad Maddy?” the guy asked.

“We’re not 100% sure, but we emailed the video link to several people in the know, and all of them said it looked like her.”

“Along with the anonymous tip stating the same?”

“Right.”

Back to the camera and the home audience. “Anyway, there you go. Take a look at the video and give us a tweet or send us an email. Is the mystery woman in the red dress Evangeline Barlow? Let us know what you think.”

I shut off the television and dropped the remote on the counter. I thought about the violet contacts. I thought about her hair, which I’d noticed was dark at the roots. If Ellie really was this Evangeline person, it just made her all the more interesting to me.

She probably would have told me eventually. God knew I didn’t want people knowing about my past. That’s why Val and I moved way the hell here, to get away from that crap. The rest of the world didn’t know what had happened. Our parents’ murders had gotten little coverage beyond our community since the killers were caught immediately and nobody involved was famous. Funny how that was, but handy for us. Moving had made it easy to escape the daily horror of constantly running into old friends who’d glance away because they had no words to speak to people who’d gone through what we’d gone through.

Such was life.

I showered, then struck out for campus with my backpack, hoping to get there in time to retrieve my phone from the locker before my Salinger class so I could text Ellie.

~ Ellie ~

I was sitting in a sunny window of Espresso Royale when my phone buzzed, indicating a message.

It wasn’t me.

I stared at Devon’s text, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then he sent another.

I didn’t out you as the girl in the red dress. Swear to God.

I texted back.
What are you talking about?

It’s on the local news. They received an anonymous tip about you being Evangeline from Mad Maddy
.

Holy crap.

I opened my phone’s browser and did a quick search for my name. The first thing to pop up was a recent report linking me to the YouTube video.

Holy crap.

Was that why Julian hadn’t replied to my texts from yesterday, most of them sent while Devon was dying my hair the most gorgeous mahogany? No, that didn’t make any sense. Even if Julian had found out who I was, it didn’t mean he knew about the girls and the contract. No, the reason he hadn’t responded to my texts was because that’s how he played this. I’d now joined the ranks of fucked and fuck off.

I was such an idiot. And yet, if I could start over would I choose to not do it? Honestly? It sounded so damn corny, but he’d awakened something in me I didn’t even know existed. He was like a sex therapist.

Sitting in the coffee shop, I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle. Yeah, that’s what it was. Sex therapy. But then again, maybe I was like a wolf or a bird that mated for life. Julian was my true mate, and now my sexual organs would just shrivel up. I was mentally preparing for a life of celibacy when my phone buzzed again.

From Julian.

Sorry I missed your messages. I forgot my phone at school. Can I stop by in about an hour and a half? Will you be around?

Julian’s message sent a flash of heat rushing through me, straight to that place old romances referred to as
loins,
and when the heat hit my bones my entire body went weak.

I looked up, afraid someone in the café had witnessed my response and would recognize it for what it was: horny. I was now part of a society of people who had sex, and I was pretty sure we gave off pheromones that transmitted every hot feeling we were having.

I paused with a finger over the keypad, trying to figure out just what to say. I wanted to type
hell yes
, but I didn’t. It was unlikely he’d left his phone at school, because if you forgot your phone you went back for it. You didn’t leave it there. No, he’d probably been out prowling for a new heart to break, maybe with no luck, so it was back to me for another round of sex. The most logical thing would be to ignore his text. Instead, I typed:
Sure. I think I’ll be home.

I finished my coffee and rushed home to wash my sheets and take a shower and shave my legs and shave anything else that might need sprucing up.

Yesterday I’d planned to tell him about the girls and the contract. But now… now I wasn’t sure. If this was just about sex, what did it matter? And if he walked out and never looked back once we were done, why waste time explaining about the girls? Wouldn’t it be better to keep my mouth shut? For all of us?

But the one thing I kept thinking—and this shows how insane I was at the moment—I kept thinking I might be the only girl in the broken-heart clique to even get a round two. That had to mean something.

And then my insane logic went a step further. What if round two led to a round three, and a round four, and then meals together and conversations and long walks along the river holding hands?

I imagined myself standing near the finish line as he rounded that final turn and saw me there. He’d smile a little private smile, and my very presence would give him the extra push he needed to fly past the guy in front of him.

Lovestruck me.