The One Without Words

❀ chapter thirty-eight | back to juvie ❀

I stood behind Anika and waited for her to notice me. She continued looking through the scarves, and I had to say her name to get her attention.

Finally, she turned. Today she wore a beige hat and a long, brown skirt. All earth tones. She stared at me, neutral with the slightest hint of amusement in her eyes. I'd always found it so annoying how she waited for the other person to speak first. But then again, Jack was the same way.

"Hey," I said. "Didn't think I'd find you here. Maybe it's because I mentioned your name earlier. I think that must've accidentally summoned you."

The joke made her smile—barely. Getting a real smile out of her was a game Penelope and I used to play.

But jokes aside, how could I even begin to explain everything that'd happened? I looked around, half hoping no one would listen in and half not caring if they did. At least the store was nearly empty, but Talia would be coming back for me soon. So I had to make it quick.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

Slowly, Anika nodded.

"You missed a lot," I said. "I'm not sure where to start. Can you believe that after Penelope got out, her way of saying hi to me was to wreck my family's flower shop? And apparently as a hobby she's taken up illegal racing. I went to one, and she said that if I won, she'd give me the money to cover the repairs. Except that never happened because this frat dude ended up crashing his car, and me and P got arrested for being involved."

"She told me about that," Anika said.

"Good, so you're caught up. The day we were at that dress shop, Penelope sent me a text. She promised me the money if I went to these coordinates on my birthday. They led to the middle of this state park with abandoned train tracks and tunnels."

"And you believed her?"

"It wasn't that I believed her... It was more that I was bored and wanted to see what would happen."

"Aren't there more constructive things to do with boredom?"

I suddenly felt foolish. Anika never understood the concept of doing things for the hell of it. How her and Penelope's friendship had lasted so long, I had no idea.

"When was this?" she asked.

"Last week," I answered.

Her eyes, accentuated with gold liner today, moved back and forth. Like she was remembering something.

"Penelope wanted me to cast a spell with her to get rich," I continued. "She seemed... kind of alone and deranged. She was pissed you ditched her. She says you found Jesus and want to be a nun."

Anika took one of the scarves and went to the mirror nearby, looking at the fabric against her neck. I thought of Penelope in her green dress checking herself out in the mirror at the overpriced boutique. The similarity between the two moments unsettled me.

"She took my nun joke too literally," Anika sighed. "That's what happens when serious people try to make jokes. It comes out all wrong."

I laughed. "Maybe it'll just take practice. But okay, your turn to fill me in. When did you get out?"

"Shortly after I turned eighteen last month," she said, her voice monotone. "Which meant I aged out of foster care. Penelope let me stay with her."

"Where, in L.A. with her rich Hollywood family?" I joked, remembering the stories Penelope spun—celebrity cults and sex and blood and glamour.

"No. The reality is not as flashy as she made it seem. She comes from a family that couldn't handle losing their fortune. Her father committed suicide. It's true—he was a famous actor. Penelope told me he was involved in elite sex trafficking rings, and his death was staged because he knew too much."