Chapter 4

I remember riding shotgun in my father's cobalt blue Cadillac looking up at my mother hypnotized as she drove us down the freeway. The windows were down and her long black wavy hair was whipping behind her as the hot air caressed our faces. Her tanned skin and dark eyes illuminated as the sun fell. The car wobbled each time it glided over a crack and bump in the road. She chanted along to the radio as it blared through the new speakers with a cigarette in hand, perching it slightly out the window. At the time, I wasn't sure where we were headed or why she looked so free. All my five-year-old brain could think was, she looked so happy and that made me happy. We both hummed along to our favorite song as we drove to a motel in California until we reached my aunt's house. My feet dangled and I barely saw outside the window, but I caught quick glimpses of massive redwoods that hovered over us as we drove for hours and hours. I looked up at her and her eyes never left the road. She may have looked free then but I still saw the irreversible damage Dad had left.

I made a vow the day I realized the kind of relationship my parents had. That I would never let a man walk all over me and I would never, ever stay until it's too late—like my mother. But life throws you curveballs and you don't know what to do until it actually happens to you. Actually, I still don't know what to do.

I feel like a joke.

For some reason, the tale Aunt Lesia told me at my mothers funeral resurfaces in my mind and I realize now that Sophia's story seemed to resemble my mother's life.

And I was living just like Claire.

It's only been a couple days since the incident involving that creature and nothing unusual has happened again. I'm starting to feel like my mind is playing tricks on me but the tale about the moonlight dancers is hitting a little too close to home. I even frantically called my cousin Jon to come pick me up and he was furious. He said I owed him because he left Rachel's house to come pick up my sorry-ass. Now I have to work a full month of his night shifts at Cresten Steakhouse.

I sigh and look across the table at Alice who is scrolling through her phone, double tapping everytime she sees something she likes or that interests her. "Why are we even at the pub if you're going to be staring at your phone the whole time?" I say, a little irritated.

I can't be left alone with my thoughts. I need a distraction. She's my distraction. I let out another exaggerated sigh.

"Okay, okay. I get it, sheesh." She scrolls a second longer before placing its screen facedown on the table. It vibrates and I can see her turning physically ill not picking it up to see the notification, but she leaves it alone. She looks up at me and says, "Let me get our food and tonight, we'll finally get you that rebound." She perks up.

"But what if I seem too desperate?" I retort back instantaneously.

She scrunches her face, tapping her freshly manicured nails on the table. "Oh honey, it's the men that are the desperate ones, and you worry too much. Also, I'm super sorry for last time. I swear I'll be the best wingman until you sink your teeth into your prey for the night."

She holds out her pinky like we're back in elementary school making promises over the most ridiculous things like how we wouldn't steal each other's favorite spot on the jungle gym or have a crush on the same boy.

I laugh and shake my head at how childish she is. I ultimately always give in to her shenanigans.

I reach out my pinky and we swear on it.

"Oh and you need to apologize to Oliver. You can't break up the trio like this. He's butt hurt and he won't even tell me what happened."

"Ah." I rub my eyes. "It was me. I may have overreacted." I give her an awkward smile, twirling a strand of my hair. "A tiny bit."

"Just a tiny bit?"

"No, by a lot. I just snapped. It was so stupid. I'll handle it."

"Good. Oliver is too good to deal with our attitude," she says and then gets up. "I'll be right back, you wanted the Thai chicken salad, right?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Touchy." She smiles then turns away.

I look at the crowd of people hovering by the bartender like hungry zoo animals who've been dropped off in the wilderness to fend for themselves for days—right on the brink of starvation. I can understand to an extent; we're in a small town 20 miles outside of Cambrick. Dalesville. They don't I.D., making this little hole-in-the-wall pub, fairly popular with us college kids.

The door chimes and out of reflex, my eyes glide over to see who's walking in.

I quickly shift away from the door and cover my face with the sticky menu.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I glance up and he's gone. I take in a breath of relief.

The menu moves away from my face. His dimpled cheeks on full display as he gives me a sad smile. He waves his friends away to get a table.

"Hey," Aiden says, so easily.

Like nothing happened.

Like he didn't rip my heart in two.

I ignore him and look away.

He slides into the booth, right next to me. "Irrationally angry, don't you think?"

I click my tongue. "No. Perfectly rational." I squint my eyes and scrunch up my face. "The anger," I say, clarifying.

"Oh, so you're talking to me again." The side of his mouth twitches into a half smile, revealing his white canine. "Mmmm and I beg to differ." He rests his hand on my knee pulling my legs to point towards him.

I grab my purse and slide it to my side and scoot further into the booth. I try to concentrate on the couple in the velvet red booth to the side of us, grinning idiotically like newlyweds.

Disgusting.

Where is Alice when I need her? She has an awful habit of disappearing when I need her the most and it's been a whole week since we egged his car, yet he hasn't brought it up once. Does he not suspect me?

I scan the pub looking to see where she wandered off too and no doubt she's on the dance floor caught up to whatever song that's playing. Sometimes, I wonder how we became friends; we're polar opposites.

I take in a deep breath, hesitating to look him in the eyes. "Please, go away." I put emphasis on the go.

"Wait. You're serious?" he asks, grabbing my wrist and pulling my whole body even closer that I can smell his cedarwood aftershave. "At least look at me, Lils."

I bite my lip, refusing to let him win, but ultimately, our eyes meet and I see the confusion in his deep blues.

"You lost the right to call me that and you know why," I say with so much venom dripping from my voice. Does he really think he's done nothing wrong?

"Fuck, really? You still believe all that?" His calm voice twists into aggravation. "I told you, she's lying. Come on, we've known each other since we were young. You really think I could do that to you?"

"We all knew each other since we were young. So should I not take her word for it and only yours?"

He hesitates to speak and then drops my wrist; his face distorting into disgust. His hands ball into fists, digging into the already ripped-up booth.

Now he's the one who can't seem to look at me.