We meet in the foyer after class. I'm the only one with a duffel: Marion has a plastic bag, and Emma has nothing. She says that everything fits in her backpack. While us three wait for Clo, we suggest movies to watch. Well, they do; I stand silently and hope their decision isn't too gory. Eventually they agree on Cabin in the Woods. It almost feels like a ploy against me.
At one point Tobias passes by to leave. He waves briefly at us before going. I almost say bye, then I see Marion's face so I don't. Wendy also walks by us. She is with a group of people, so I expect her to ignore me. Surprisingly she stops and smiles, wishing me a good weekend. Then, her friends shephard her towards the door.
Finally Clo appears as one of the last few students trailing out.
"Sorry," she apologizes. "Had to stay late to finish a test."
"No worries," Marion responds.
We barely make the bus - racing across the pavement, dust clouds billowing beneath our shoes. Clo has to bang on the door so that the driver opens it with an annoyed glare.
"Next time," the driver chastises, "I'll drive off without you."
The four of us chat as the bus plows over potholes, Clo and Marion leaning over the back of their seat. At one point a bump almost sends Marion flying into Emma. Thankfully Clo holds her back, though she can't hold herself back from laughing. I can't either, giggling as we bounce and gossip about nothing. Perhaps it is because it is Friday, or because Clo seems to have forgiven me, but I feel incredibly happy and light. I feel like a part of the group once more.
After clamoring off the bus we are still a good 10 minutes away. The sidewalks are wider though - wide enough for three girls to squeeze beside each other and one oversized one to bring up the rear. My arms are sore from the duffel but I push forward. I am scared to fall behind.
Clo's house sits on a busier street. It lines right up against the road, so that the rumble of passing cars and trucks almost shake her front porch. It is also quite narrow for the property, like someone built it thinking other houses would sprout up right beside; and tall, like it'd have to reach higher to breath. Her parents greet us at the door. They show us where to put our shoes, coats and bags. Embarrassed, Clo pushes them away. I know that Emma has been here before - Marion too - but I don't feel jealous. Rather, I feel like I am now a part of the club.
After a dinner of ordered pizza and soda we all squeeze onto the sofa, while her older sister bakes us bite-sized brownies in the kitchen. I have a surprising amount of space. I look over at Marion beside me and realize she is right up against Emma, turned completely away from me. Between us is a good few inches of empty space and it feels incredibly lonely.
"Gabby, you sure you're gonna be okay?" As Clo asks, she searches something up on her laptop, then places it on the coffee table. A pirated copy of Cabin in the Woods pauses on the screen.
"Yes," I say, hopefully convincing enough. In reality, I'm shaking and sweltering. My fingers dig into my destroyed jeans.
"Alright then," she responds, before leaning forward and pressing play. I sit, terrified, practically squirming, as the first scene begins. I want to run and hide. I want to cover my eyes. But I know that if I do then Clo, Marion, and Emma will never let me live it down. They already think I'm weak - I have to prove I am strong. Still, though, I cannot last very long. Even before the first drop of blood is spilled I get up off the sofa.
"You good Gabby?" I turn around at Clo. She's looking up at me like she knew I didn't stand a chance.
"Washroom?" That's a good coverup. I'll just hide in there for a little while.
"Down the hall," she responds, and I know she sees straight through me. "Door to the right."
"Thanks." They continue to watch the film as I walk into the front entryway. There my bag is hung up, right by the door. Quietly, I walk over to it and rummage around until I find my phone. Then I go to the washroom.
The bathroom is very small - a toilet and sink cramped together. But as I lock the door behind me I am the safest I've been all night. I sit on the closed toilet seat. Down the hall, I can hear sounds of violent slashing. Nausea hits. Then I hear the onscreen shrieks and suddenly I'm overwhelmed with sorrow for characters I don't know, and desperately want the violence to end. I realize that this has to end. Hastily, I unlock my phone and head straight for contacts. Within moments, Anna picks up on the other end.
"Gabrielle? Is everything okay?"
"Can you come pick me up?" My words escape quiet and choked and desperate.
"Of course dear. Now?"
"Yes." Tears are beginning to fall. Distant screams claw under the door and bounce around the room. I sink to the floor and curl up there, trying with all my might to stifle my sobs.
Fifteen minutes later I get another call from Anna. She is parked outside. By now I have already planned my escape route. I'll pack up without them noticing, then pop my head in to tell them there's been an emergency, that I have to leave. It'll be short and then I'll be safe.
My plan falls through fairly quickly though. As I'm packing, I lose my grip on my bag and it falls to the floor with a thud. The movie pauses through the wall, and there are shuffling noises. Next thing I know Marion is peaking through the doorway.
"What are you doing?" The smug smile and furrowed eyebrows make for an interesting combination.
"Um," I stutter, "I have to go now."
"Really? That's a shame." She says it excitedly.
"What's going on?" Clo yells from their living room.
"Gabby has to go... apparently." On the last word Marion looks me down. I cringe, ashamed at myself.
"Oh no. Bye." Clo does not bother to come send me off.
"I really wish I could stay," I lie. "But there's an emergency."
"I understand." In her eyes, Marion tells me she understands a whole lot more than just that. "Bye," she shouts as I open the creaking screen door.
"Bye," I whisper in return, so softly it barely makes a sound.
Clo's parents sit on the wooden porch, smoking cigarettes. The pungent scent fills my lungs and I cough, grabbing their attention. They ask what's wrong, but I just tell them I need to go and my aunt is waiting outside. They remind me to be safe and to have a good night and console on how it sucks I am leaving so early. As soon as possible, I excuse myself, sprint down the rotting steps and off the property, pausing only once I hit the sidewalk. Anna is in her blue pickup truck across the street. She honks, but I am already making a bee line for her.
"What happened?" Anna asks as I climb up into the passenger seat. Instead of responding I buckle my seatbelt. Then I am crying, words spilling out as small water droplets. Anna, who was about to start the car, stops and unbuckles herself. She leans across the middle to wrap me in a big hug. It also reminds me of my mother, but in a different way.
"Oh Gabrielle," she consoles, "I'm so sorry. Tell me what's wrong." The proximity suddenly feels suffocating. I pull away and shake my head.
"I don't want to talk about it." Her eyes scan my face. She takes a hand to wipe away one of my tears. "Can we just go?"
"Yes. Of course." Anna does not push. She turns on the car. We drive home along the dark empty road, headlights scattering light onto the asphalt in front of us, guiding us forward. An album of Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits plays through the stereo. I roll my window down; the cold breeze forces its way in. It smells of the forest; of adventure and recklessness; of long, cold, wondrous nights; of reminiscent car drives with my mother humming a soft tune. These scents mingle, linger and ferment inside the car like a sick taunt.
As soon as we pull into the dirt driveway I am out of the car. Anna does not say anything; she carries my duffle over her shoulder, trailing wordlessly behind. The house lights are on - it's unusual since no one is home. Anna clearly rushed out the door and I'm not entirely sure how that makes me feel. Angry? Surprised? Happy? Nothing makes sense anymore.
Once I reach the stone patio I wait for her to catch up.
"Go in," she comments, "the door is unlocked." I try the handle and it opens with surprising ease. Inside I tear off my sneakers and coat - which crumple to the floor - before heading towards the stairs. "Gabrielle, wait." I turn back towards her with my foot hovering over the first step. Anna is in the doorway, hand outstretched. "Come, stay. I'll make some hot cocoa. And maybe we could watch a show?" It is a tantalizing offer, but I feel really messy and unwell. All I want to do is shut my eyes and forget. "Will have the coolest girls night ever, K?" She smiles hopefully and suddenly I crumple. Even though I can't speak I manage to nod.
Anna treats me like a small child. I sit on the sofa and she caringly pulls a blanket over me, making sure to give me the remote. Her hand gently rubs my head as she walks over to the kitchen. While she boils water I open Netflix to watch The Office - my go-to comfort show. Only after four episodes and two cups of cocoa does Anna try talking to me again.
"Are you feeling a little better now?" She nudges my foot with hers beneath the shared blanket.
"Yeah," I admit, keeping my eyes on the blank screen.
"I'll always be here for you Gabrielle. You know that, right?" She sighs. "Gabrielle, look at me." I hesitate to look at her, turning my head inches at a time. When I meet her eyes I see her face swallowed in sorrow. "From the bottom of my heart, I will never, ever leave you. I will always be here for you. Always, okay?" Her eyes are watering a little. Not enough for tears.
"I know, Anna."
"I'm serious," she contests. "I know you don't look at me like your mother, but I love you so so much Gabrielle, and I will always be on your side. You can tell me anything."
Her expression breaks me. Perhaps because I can't help but find pieces of my mother inside it, like the small hint of silver in her irises or the way her mouth slightly curves. After all, they were sisters, only separated by a couple years.
"It's really stupid though," I confess as I pull the knitted blanket up to my neck.
"Nothing you can say will ever be stupid." Anna does not realize how wrong she is.
"They were just watching a horror film and I couldn't handle it. You know." I bite the inside of my right cheek, scrunching my mouth to the side.
"Why didn't you ask them to watch something else?" Anna readjusts so she is sitting straight up.
"I'd feel bad. The whole purpose of the sleepover was to watch scary movies."
"But Gabrielle, they're your friends. I'm sure if they knew about your fear, they'd-"
"They do know, Anna, and they think it's dumb." In my head I agree with them. It is dumb. I straighten and kick the blanket off.
"Gabrielle, that doesn't sound like something friends would say." She reaches out to touch my leg, but I pull away from her. Rejected, Anna pauses mid-reach.
"They're just being truthful. It's fine, really." Her eyebrows are furrowing. Almost like an escape mechanism, I plant my feet on the floor. Ready to run at a moment's notice.
"Is this why you're always so upset?"
"No, of course not." I shake my head to further this point.
"Sweetie, no one should treat you like that."
"I said they don't."
"You're always so miserable. And tonight - I haven't seen you that upset since-"
"Stop it!" I don't dare let her finish that sentence.
"I'm not sure you should be-"
"Anna, I said stop it!" Fury rises inside me. Anna has no right.
"Listen, Gabrielle. I'm trying to help." She leans towards me so I stand and back away from her.
"No you're not! This is none of your business!" Anna stands in response.
"Yes it is! As soon as it's hurting you, then it is my business!"
"No it's not! You're not my mother!" That shuts Anna right up. There is so much written on her face, all piled up and melded together, that I can no longer read it. But the ways she looks at me - I want her to stop.
"You don't know anything, Anna. You said you were here for me but all you're doing is attacking my friends. You lied - I can't tell you anything." I turn away from her and head towards the hall.
"Gabrielle, wait!" But I don't. Rather, I walk up the stairs and to my bedroom, leaving Anna alone to contemplate what just happened.
I am furious with her. So angry that I could tear my room to pieces and still retain the urge to break. I stomp my foot on the wooden flooring then scream into the void of my room. I slam the door behind me so that my world becomes dark. Then, suddenly, everything stops. I stop. In the quiet, my eyes shift across the eerie room.
Moonlight slithers in through the single window, reaching towards my unmade bed; claws scrambling up from a dead grave. Horrendously alluring. In the held breath of the universe I walk to my window and look outside. The forest is empty, hollow, bloodcurdling. Devoid of light. I blink but still see no sparks, and I doubt I will. Eventually, I give up and move onto my bed. I lie down and pull the blanket up over my face, fully encasing myself in the boiling fabric. Still, I cannot help but shiver.