Bellamy Rising Page 2

  “What can I get for you?” I plastered on my biggest, fakest smile.

  “Umm. I need a sec.”

  “Take your time.” I waited. Someone blew up her phone. It chimed three times in a row and she passed it from one hand to the other. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead which I found odd considering it was about twenty degrees outside. Her eye makeup was smudged, which was also odd since she usually looked so put together.

  I opened my mouth to ask her if she was okay when she said, “Okay, I’m ready. I’ll take a small gingerbread latte.”

  “Okay. Coming right up.” I grabbed a small to-go cup, poured espresso into the portafilter, and tamped it. The shot I pulled was perfect. There is something very satisfying about pulling a great shot of espresso. It dribbles into the shot glass and at the end, if it’s done well, there is a light-brown crema floating above the dark-black coffee. I frothed the milk—I’m very proud of my milk frothing abilities—and added the flavored syrup before pouring the espresso and hot, foamy milk in into the to-go cup.

  I handed Jenna her coffee. She paid me no attention and craned her neck to peer out the window. I didn’t see anything except an empty street with patches of light beaming down onto the sidewalk from streetlights. Every shop window was dark except for ours.

  “Here you go,” I said, getting her attention. “That’ll be $3.19.”

  Jenna glanced back at me, confused, as if she’d forgotten I was even there. “Oh right.” Her hands shook as she unzipped her clutch and took out a five-dollar bill.

  I handed her the change. “Thanks. Happy New Year.”

  “Yeah, you too.” Jenna shoved the change into her pocket and walked toward the door. Her high heels echoed on the hardwood floor. She let herself out and passed the window, before disappearing from view.

  The clock on the wall read 6:59. I scampered to the door to flip the open sign to closed, locked the door, and peered outside. Jenna walked down the street, stopping under a streetlight. The wind whipped around her, blowing her hair back. It made her look like a model standing in front of a fan. I shivered. The pea coat she wore probably didn’t do much against the cold considering her legs were bare. I assumed there was a festive little black dress under her coat.

  Dread blossomed in my stomach as a black car with tinted windows pulled up to the sidewalk where she stood. The car window rolled down and she bent down to see inside.

  After a short conversation with the driver, Jenna stepped over to the car and got in. She was probably off to some fancy New Year’s party, probably in one of the huge mansions by the lake or the golf course.

  “And I’m spending the new year in a gross, falling-down house.” I snorted.

  After locking the door, I stepped behind the counter and quickly washed up. The sound of Ana Sofia shouting in Spanish echoed in the empty shop. I dumped the now-cold espresso grounds in the trash, wiped down the frothing wand, and washed the cup and shot glass. I killed half of the lights and made my way to the office door. I knocked and waited.

  Ana Sofia stopped yelling. “Come in, Bellamy,” she said, her voice calm.

  I opened the door a crack and poked my head inside the office. “Hi,” I whispered. “I’m all done. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No. Have fun tonight but don’t be an idiot. I’ll see you next week.” She wagged her finger at me and then winked.

  A nagging feeling churned in my stomach as I let myself out the back door and stepped into the alley. If I were in a movie, this alley would be the perfect place for a murderer or kidnapper to lurk. The wind and the full moon made it worse. I stood in front of the door, gripping the knob, and glanced around to see if any such bad people lurked in the darkness. There was no one around at all. I tried to remember that Ana Sofia was inside, yelling at someone on the phone.

  Letting go of the knob, I crept forward. The shadows stood tall and menacing. My heart started to pound and my ears perked up. Certain I heard footsteps, I quickened my pace. Unable to tell if the thumping was footsteps or my pulse, I stopped and whirled around to confront . . . nothing. The alley was empty except for two overturned trash cans. Still, I hurried through toward the parking lot, keeping close to the brick wall and resisting the urge to break into a run.

  “Stop being so ridiculous,” I whispered to myself, but the wind whistled through the alley and carried my words off into the night. I reached into my bag, found my keys, and threaded them through my fingers so I would have a weapon should I need one. The open parking lot drew nearer. I sped up to a jog.

  The old, green station wagon was the only car parked in the lot behind the building. I scuttled over to it, peered into the backseat and the trunk. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them.

  “Shit.” I grabbed them and dropped them again. “Oh my God.” Gripping them, I stood up and whipped my head around to make sure I was still alone.

  I sighed with relief—my breath puffing out in a frozen mist—when I finally made it into the car and locked the doors. My pulse kept up its rapid pace until I strapped on my seatbelt and locked the doors. The car started after only two tries. Shivering, I hoped the heat would actually start heating before I got home. I sat for a minute in the car, letting it warm up.

  My cell phone rang, startling me. I let out a shriek. “Hello?” I answered, my voice shaking.

  “We are going to be late.” Meredith enunciated each syllable, something she did when she was pissed.

  “No, we aren’t. Don’t worry, we’ll get to your precious New Year’s Eve party in plenty of time. I’m on the way.” I hung up on her.

  My stomach churned and my mouth had that watery feeling it gets right before you throw up. I lay my head back on the headrest when I started to feel dizzy.

  “What is wrong with me?” I asked the ceiling. Leaving work and walking down a dark alley had never left me in such a state. “It’s nothing. Nothing is wrong. Go to the party.”

  My head cleared and the wooziness started to dissipate after lots of deep breaths. “Too much caffeine,” I said. “That’s all.” I shifted the car into reverse. My breathing began to calm as I pulled onto Main Street and headed home.

  Chapter 3

  I passed the Thanks for Visiting Beautiful Louisa sign.

  “Good seeing ya, Louisa.” I tipped my imaginary hat at the sign and turned off the highway onto the unmarked, barely paved road that led to my house. The moon cast a cold glow on the road. I didn’t even really need headlights to light the last mile.

  When I pulled up to the house, every light was on. I went inside and was immediately accosted by Meredith.

  “How slow were you driving?”

  “Whoa. Calm down, killer.” I shrugged my jacket off and threw it on the faded floral couch.

  “It’s getting late!”

  “I know. I’m going to get ready.” I squeezed past her and went up to my room, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “Hurry.” Meredith glowered up at me from the bottom of the steps.

  I stopped at the top. “Lighten up, dude, we are going to a party.” I shimmied my shoulders to invisible music.

  Meredith cracked a smile. “Go change out of your work clothes. You smell like coffee grounds.” She adjusted her skirt to make it even shorter.

  “Be right back.” I dashed up to my attic bedroom and pulled off my black polo shirt with The Beans embroidered right over my boobs.

  I changed into a short black skirt and ripped-up tights. After adding a black lace-up tank top and a leather jacket, I put on red lipstick. A glance in the mirror later, and I headed downstairs where Meredith waited in the car.

  She eyed me, lips pursed with disapproval. “I don’t understand why you won’t dress up.”

  In protest, I plonked my feet, clad in big, black boots, onto the dash while I stare
d out the window. “I am dressed up.”

  “But it’s a party . . . A New Year’s party even!”

  “I know. Do you want me to wear a satin gown? Because I don’t think I have one.” Meredith peeled out of the driveway spinning gravel behind us.

  “Mom will kill you for that.”

  “Whatever. I’ll just tell her you did it.”

  “Ha.” I stared out the window as we flew by modest ranch houses that made up a good portion of Louisa.

  Meredith’s boyfriend Mike lived at the Lake House— —an ironic name as it was across town from the lake—the scene of a great many wild parties. A railroad separated it and the rest of the decrepit neighborhood from the rest of Louisa. It was painted white, sort of, and I was always a little surprised to see it still standing. People and light spilled out of the house onto the dead lawn, but the rest of the ramshackle neighborhood was dark.

  She pulled into the closest spot she could find. I stepped out of the car and a bitter wind ripped through me. My sister hopped from one foot to another, trying to stay warm. I mean, it was a whopping twenty degrees with an even colder wind chill.

  Meredith put on her social-director persona and started greeting people as soon as we hit the sidewalk. “Hi! How are you?” she squealed toward a pack of girls she went to high school with.

  I wriggled past, aiming for the warmth inside.

  The bass thumped in the pit of my stomach as soon as my foot hit the stairs leading to the porch. I stepped across a trash bag full of beer cans and several empty boxes to get to the front door. Inside, the living room was packed.

  Meredith caught up and tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention. “I’m going to find Mike.”

  “Don’t pick a fight with him.” She would. She usually did. They were the couple that had drama at every party.

  “I won’t,” she said with an indignant pout.

  “Yes, you will. Just try not to get the cops called.”

  Meredith flounced off. The male population showed their appreciation for her short black dress by staring, hitting each other, and whispering amongst themselves. They were discussing her intelligence and personality, no doubt.

  “I’d hit that,” said some dude standing next to me.

  “That’s my sister.” I glared at him before pushing my way through to the kitchen.

  An already completely drunk idiot knocked me back into the arm of the couch. The couch, which I’d slept on before, sadly, was completely broken, sinking down in the middle. I believe it came from the sidewalk in front of someone’s house.

  “Watch it, idiot!” I shouted. He didn’t even notice he’d trampled all through my personal space and thought I was hitting on him.

  “Heeeeeey,” he slurred with his eyes half open.

  “Really? It’s not even nine o’clock.” I left him behind and elbowed my way to the other side of the room surveying the swaying mass of people for Iris, my BFF.

  My feet stuck to the floor as soon as I entered the kitchen. I pushed through the keg line and into the hall where I rapped on the back-bedroom door.

  “Come in,” a voice called.

  I opened the door and peeked inside. Iris sat cross-legged on the bed with our friend Adam. A couple of other people lounged on the futon. Cheap incense did little to mask the purpose of the room.

  “Bellamy!” she said. I waved and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “How was work?”

  “Slow.”

  After a short knock, the door creaked open again and Will Onishi, my partner in literal crime, appeared. He and I have an understanding: party together, hook up, with no feelings involved. He got my attention and grinned, his eyes crinkling up. I smiled back. I couldn’t help it.

  “The party is getting huge,” he said. “Come on, Belly.” I hate being called Belly, but I hauled myself off the bed and followed him out to the party.

  Every square inch of space was filled with people. Anticipation crackled in the air. Will handed me a beer. Someone’s band played loud, mediocre songs in what would have been a dining room, had the inhabitants been a family instead of a pack of gross boys. The band was terrible, but everyone danced anyway.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?” I asked since he handed me a new beer every time mine turned up empty.

  “Maybe,” he said with an evil grin.

  The beer caught up with me and the music sounded better. Not good, but better. The non-jock high school crowd, the older kids home from college, the older kids like Meredith who’d never left, and the townies, were squeezed into the house until the house itself was pulsing with music and life. It was the good part of a party before anyone got in a fight, before everyone was too drunk, where everything was fun and wonderful and you think This is the best party ever. This is the time of my life. On either side of me, pairs of girls huddled together taking selfies.

  Even though we, as a society, agree that cigarette smoke is bad, a cloud of smoke swirled over our heads to dramatic effect. I joined the dancers and shimmied to the beat. I threw my head back as a strobe light cut through the smoke and with all the Christmas lights strung about, the dingy house became a happening club. I got, for a second, why New Year’s is so fun. Midnight crept toward us and the party got more frantic with every second. People rearranged themselves to be near the ones they wanted to kiss. I glanced around searching for Will.

  Before the countdown, the band took a break and Mike himself took the mic. He held up his phone and announced, “One minute until midnight.”

  Iris snuck up beside me and squeezed my hand.

  Disappointment crept over me when I didn’t see Will anywhere. New Year’s Eve is designed for kissing and even though I told myself we were just friends with benefits, I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to kiss.

  Mike started the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight . . .”

  I felt a presence beside me. Will had returned and he slid his arm around my waist.

  Shouting like a frat boy, Mike shouted the countdown, “. . . seven, six, five . . .”

  “You look super-hot,” Will said into my ear.

  We counted down together, grinning like idiots. “Three, two, ONE.”

  Will kissed me and for a second I forgot I was in a room full of people. Then he stepped back, let out a whoop, and gave me a high-five. The spell was broken.

  “Happy New Year,” I whispered to no one.

  Soon after midnight, the party turned sour. Packs of drunk girls huddled in corners. At least one of them was sobbing, her mascara running everywhere, over a boy. I waited in line for the bathroom. Of course, two girls, one of them crying, emerged. I squeezed past them and locked myself inside.

  Two of me stared back out of the dirty, cracked mirror. “Gross,” I said to my paler than usual reflection. Glancing around for a place to sit, I ruled out the disgusting tub, but every other surface was worse. Gingerly, I sat on the edge of the tub, huddled with my arms around my stomach, which felt like it had rocks tumbling around in it, until someone banged on the door.

  “Hurry up!” a voice from the hallway shouted.

  Pissed off, I flung the door open and gave the shouter my evilest glare before I shoved past the hoard of revelers crammed in the hall. Mike banged on his bedroom door.

  “Come on, baby,” he said, slurring. “Let me in!”

  Meredith had locked him out of his own room. Their party/fighting routine was performed so often that no one blinked an eye. She’d cry and then let Mike back in and they’d go back to affectionate bickering before the morning. She’d come home tomorrow and deny the dramatics ever happened.

  The hallway started to spin as a wave of dizziness overtook me. I needed to be horizontal, but the car was the only acceptable place I could think of to lie down. I looked around for Iris or Will,
but I didn’t see either.

  I elbowed and pushed my way through the thick crowd toward the front door. I shivered from the cold, yet sweat beaded on my forehead. Finally making it to the door, I yanked it open, almost hitting some guy with it.

  Cold air blasted me as I barreled into the night. I staggered down the front walk and toward the car. After fumbling with the handle, I yanked the door open and threw myself into the back seat. I lay down, smashing my head up against the opposite door and put my feet up on the window. Counting on my fingers, I tried to remember how many beers I’d had but I couldn’t.

  I closed my eyes and everything stilled. My head stopped spinning and a picture flickered into focus, like an old movie projector starting up. The light blinked faster and faster, and finally the scene came into focus.

  An old dirt road that few cars travel down. Tall grass grows up in the center and on either side of two dirt tracks. Trees line the sides of the road and everything is dark, except for the beams of light shining ahead and the moon above the trees, cold and indifferent. Unease and dread pervade, as though the road leads to something gruesome.

  The picture began to dim and even though it probably only lasted a few seconds, it was so vivid that I forgot I was in the backseat of a car, alone and safe. A fine dust of certainty settled over me. Someone was on their way to die. As the picture faded, my heart pounded and I struggled to breathe.

  “Bellamy! Are you okay?” Hands grabbed my shoulders and shook.

  My eyes flew open and I screamed.

  Chapter 4

  Will’s face came into focus.

  “What’s going on?” I shoved him off me and sat up. My gaze darted around the car. It was still parked in the same spot down the road from the Lake House. People milled around outside. I wasn’t on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.