I spent the entirety of the explosion-riddled, superhero-loaded movie trying not to think about two things: Tyler and the article. As we'd crossed town to the movie complex, I let spill all the sordid details about what had happened in Huntington, watching as Tyler's knuckles went white on the wheel when I described what I'd walked into in that club basement on Friday.
"Damn right you should've assaulted someone," he muttered as he shifted into park at the theatre, "Those jerks got what they deserved for trying to make you look like the bad guy in that article."
My stomach turned as I climbed out of the car, wondering whether he'd still think the same thing if the truth ever came to light. I was so caught up in my own mind that I didn't think twice when he held a hand out to me, taking it before realizing what I was doing. The feel of Tyler's warm fingers between my cool ones had all those old feelings surging to the surface once again as we walked up to the ticketing machine.
Too much, my mind kept saying, you can't do this right now, even as my heart was dancing joyously, relieved to be back with the guy some part of me knew I was supposed to be with. I disentangled myself from him under the pretenses of searching for my wallet in my purse, forcing Tyler to let me pay my way despite his insistence that he wanted to treat me to a movie. When he offered to share his popcorn, I refused, instead buying myself a large Diet Coke and once again ignoring his offer to pay.
I was making it awkward and I knew it, but I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't let him pay for me as if we were on a date because I wasn't so sure he'd want to date me if he knew what I'd done.
So there we sat, Tyler contentedly munching on his popcorn while I desperately tried to realign myself with the world that had so drastically changed in under a week. Ethan was the enemy now, not the guy that I could text whenever I was bored. Tyler was my friend again and clearly hoped to be something more, but I knew that balanced precariously on the precipice of him finding out the truth about the article...
The article that had probably single-handedly destroyed Dakota's life.
My stomach swooped as I thought of the cruel words Victoria had penned under Dakota's name, so perfectly capturing the fledging journalist's tone that no one had suspected anything...yet. I couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop and that the turmoil hadn't quite settled. Ernie MacKibbin might talk or someone might trace the story back to Victoria, who I didn't trust in the least not to drag me down with her. Plus it wasn't like we'd met up with Ernie in some secretive alley, Victoria had hauled me right up to him when she'd forced the memory key into his hands. For all I knew, some good samaritan student might already be telling Principal MacGuire what they saw if only to help sort out this morning's mayhem.
So I squirmed and fidgeted, trying my best to focus on the movie and not the familiar smell of Tyler's cologne or the warmth of his shoulder so close to mine. Or the look on Dakota's face as she'd ripped the paper to pieces in front of Mel Jiang. Or the way Ethan had attacked my brother. Or the way I'd willingly played a part in everything that had transpired.
Victoria had asked me at the party whether I was in or not and I hadn't even stopped to consider the consequences when I agreed. I should have guessed that whatever she had planned would be cruel and horrible, but I was so alight with anger that I hadn't cared. I wanted to hurt Dakota and Ethan so badly that I hadn't care what lengths she'd go to in order to achieve it.
Now that I knew what she'd been planning and had unwittingly played right along, I wasn't so sure that I wanted in any more.
Pulling out my phone, I broke the cardinal rule of movie attendance, the bright blueish light glowing in the dark theatre. Ignoring all the messages backing up my inbox, I scrolled to the contact I wanted.
We need to talk.
I sent it before I could talk myself out of it. Vicky would be pissed beyond belief, but I needed to tell her to stop. For all I knew, she had more planned and I didn't want to see what it was.
"You should steer clear of her, you know," Tyler leaned over to whisper, having read over my shoulder. I jumped, guiltily stowing my phone as if he could read the truth through the cryptic text I'd sent.
"What do you mean?" I whispered back. He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the screen.
"She's mean, Maddie," he said, "You're not."
"I have to go to the bathroom," I said hurriedly, vaguely gesturing to the giant Diet Coke I'd bought as I fled.
Tyler's words had twisted a knife in my gut and I was going to cry, there was no stopping it. I didn't want him around to witness it because I knew I wouldn't be able to keep the truth from leaking out between my sobs. So I ran, careening into the empty women's bathroom just as the tears started. I grabbed on to a sink, squeezing with all my might so I didn't make a sound as the day's events caught up to me.
When I was finally able to catch my breath, I looked up at my reflection and moaned. There had been nothing pretty about that cry, as my blotchy, mascara-covered cheeks could attest. There was no way I could hide this, even with the makeup arsenal in my bag. My stomach turned as I fished my phone out, only to drop as it lit up with the alert from Vicky's reply.
WTF where are you?
Maddie?
Call me. Now.
I swiped out of the conversation, my finger hovering, torn between two contacts. If I called Brett, there was a very high chance he was with Vicky and she'd no doubt seize his phone and spew some sort of verbal lashing down the line. If I called Brandon, there was a smaller chance that Vicky would find out...
Either way, I needed to get out of that movie theatre before Tyler started asking questions.
Can you pick me up?
Brandon's reply was almost instantaneous.
Where?
When I replied, he promised he'd be there as fast as he could, which only left one more person to text.
I'm sorry, I just can't do this right now. I'll see you tomorrow.
I only sent the text to Tyler when Brandon's car screeched up to the curb outside, the guilt so all-consuming that I'd started crying again.
"Hop in princess...wait, what happened?" Brandon asked as I slid into the passenger seat.
"Just take me home," I said, digging through my purse for some kleenex so I wouldn't slobber all over his car. Brandon obliged, wordlessly shifting into drive and speeding back towards home.
"If you don't mind me asking...what were you doing at the movies when everyone is crawling all over themselves looking for you?" he asked, finally breaking the silence at a red light.
"I went with Tyler to take my mind off things," I said, unable to meet his gaze as my phone buzzed for the zillionth time, buried in my bag. "Clearly it didn't work."
Brandon nodded slowly, his fingers drumming the steering wheel as the light turned green. He jammed on the gas harder than was necessary and we leaped forward.
"All right, well I'm taking you home. Your parents are worried sick and so is Brett," he said.
"Oh God, no," I said, burying my face in my hands. I'd almost forgotten about the phone call I'd ignored earlier, proof that my parents had heard about what happened.
"No?" Brandon echoed.
"Just...can we drive around for a bit? Please?" I asked, turning my puffy, tear-stained eyes towards him. Brandon paused at a stop sign, looking over at me with so much pity in his eyes that I had to look away.
"Sure," he said, loosing a breath, "But I already told Brett I was going to get you. They'll be waiting."
"I can't face them all yet," I said, crossing my arms as I leaned my forehead against the cool window.
"Fine by me," Brandon said, reaching over to switch on his radio. He turned it up, whether to reassure me that I didn't have to talk or in an attempt to drown out my thoughts, I'll never know, but I was eternally grateful as he whipped a U-turn and sped towards the opposite side of town.
We drove for nearly an hour, my phone having such a conniption in my bag that I eventually threw it into the back seat so I could try to forget about it. When my stomach rumbled so audibly that even the music didn't drown it out, Brandon pulled in to a McDonald's and ordered me a chicken nugget trio without even asking if I wanted one. We ate in the car, Brandon devouring his double Big Mac and most of my fries.
"I don't believe a word of it, you know," he said, sipping the last of his Sprite, "The article, I mean."
"Brandon, I really don't want to talk about it," I said, the greasy lunch sitting like a stone in my belly.
"That's cool, but I just wanted you to know," he said. His phone rang once again, but instead of slamming the ignore button on the bluetooth console as he had all the other times Brett and Vicky had tried to call him, this time he hesitated.
"I should take this," he said, shooting a sidelong glance my way. I sighed, knowing that my fugitive status was coming to an end. It was Brandon's mom calling and I had a feeling I knew why.
"Bee, the Carlisles have been calling and calling because they think you're with Madison and neither of you is picking up," Brandon's mom, Connie, said, her usually happy-go-lucky tone gone replaced by concern.
"Yeah Ma, she's here," Brandon said, "We were just getting lunch."
Connie sighed.
"Bee, you need to bring her home. From what I've heard, she's had a very, very bad day and she needs to be with her family," she said, "Right, Maddie honey?"
Brandon looked over at me and I shrugged a shoulder in defeat.
"Okay, we'll be right over. Tell them not to worry," he said, reversing out of the parking spot.
"All right, I'll tell them. It's all going to be okay, Maddie. I love you Bee!" Connie said, the vibrance back in her voice as they hung up.
"Well that was mortifying," Brandon said.
"Did you not think I already knew that your mom calls you Bee?" I asked, reaching into the back seat to grab my purse.
"I'd hoped not," he said, "But now I'm busted."
"Yes, you definitely are. But at least she loves you, Bee," I said, doing my best to mirror Connie's sing-song, happy trill. A grin flashed across Brandon's face as he glanced over at me.
"Making jokes, seems like you're doing a little better," he said.
"Until I get home," I replied, as my street came into view.
"Well if you need another getaway vehicle, you know who to call," he said as we purred up the driveway.
"Thanks, Brandon," I said, unbuckling my seat belt, "See you tomorrow."
"Connie speaks the truth, you know," he said, rolling down his window after I'd closed the door behind me, "It's all going to be okay."
I waved at him as I took the steps to the door, which opened before I could get a hand around the handle.
"Oh, sweetie! Don't worry, we've already called a lawyer!" mom said, gathering me into her arms in a rush. Somewhere over the din of voices that I recognized as Brett and Vicky's, I heard Brandon's car driving away and I wished that I could've stayed in his passenger seat until I fell asleep.
Hopefully so I could wake up to find this had all been a very, very bad dream.