Momma had always told me to be a nice person. But she had also never met Denise Annabelle Freemont, also knowns as the Devil's incarnate. I crossed my arms over my chest tightly and glowered back at her from across the room. Evan seemed to think our mutual animosity came from her sexism, and I would let him think that for an eternity before I told him the truth; she hated him more than she hated the rest of his family.
Denise may act sweet anytime she spoke to Evan, but I heard the way she talked about him when he wasn't in the room. It was better for everyone if I stayed away from her and her a-hole of a fiancé. She met my eyes for the third time in the last minute and I gave her a little three finger wave that I knew she hated.
Evan was across the room, playing host to his grandparents. I could hear them complaining from my place on the couch about how he still hadn't applied to any colleges or summer programs, even though we were only half way through our junior year. Evan's smile was thin and his dad, David, didn't jump in to defend him.
Not that either of us seemed to expected it. I was surprised that David hadn't thrown Evan under that bus in the first place. The only real time he seemed to pay Evan any attention was when he was doing well, or not so well, in school. I washed the thought down will a gulp of soda.
Evan snuck away from the conversation of Ivy League schools and sat down beside me. He took the can from my hand and downed the whole thing like he would prefer it was alcohol. "Rough morning?"
"It's going to be a rough week. Dad wants to drive to Ohio State this weekend to tour the campus. Nana and Pop want him to take me to Columbia." He handed the drink back.
"And where do you want to go?"
"Back to bed so I won't have to think about college. But they don't want that answer."
I hummed as I took another sip. "We could always run away to Mexico."
"You don't even speak Spanish."
"That's true, but it would get us away from Denise."
Evan snorted loudly. Said aunt shot him a look of distaste and set her drink down. She turned to face us.
"Oh God, she's spotted us. Is it too late to run?" I muttered under my breath. Evan elbowed me as his aunt sat down on his left.
"So, sweetheart, have you thought about where you'll be going when you finish school? It's getting closer." She asked sweetly.
"Uh, dad wants me to go somewhere nice like Ohio State or Yale," Evan smoothed out the imaginary creases in his jeans.
"It would be a shame for you to get separated after graduation," Denise stilled his hand on his knee. "You've been friends for so long."
Her tone said that it would be anything but tragic. Evan pulled his hand away and I swallowed down the sour taste in my mouth. "And what do you mean by that?"
"Well, I wasn't sure what Madeline's plans were after she finishes school here. Ivy League is a hard feat to achieve with, well, her financial track record."
"The name is Madix, and if you can't get that right then you don't need to be talking to him," Evan replied shortly.
Denise leaned back and brought her hand to her chest like she was shocked at the correction. "My bad, darling, I forgot,"
"Just like you forgot that my GPA is higher than your IQ, apparently," I shot back. "And just in case you also forgot, I'm not poor enough to not be able to afford college. I have a list of scholarships that are longer than your list of ex-boyfriends."
"Madix, that's enough," David called across the room. "Denise, leave him alone."
Evan leaned forward and tried to separate us, but she wasn't done yet. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"I mean that at least I've lasted longer than you without getting pregnant. How's Melissa, by the way, or do you ignore all of your responsibilities with the acceptation of wedding planning?"
Denise wasn't the only one who gasped. Evan grabbed my arm as she jumped up, sputtering. "How dare you?"
I shrugged. "Pretty easily, I guess."
For a second, I really hoped she would hit me. It would give me more leverage is she ever started something again. But instead, she curled her fists up and stomped back to her fiancé, who hadn't once stepped up to help her.
The room was dead silent as she gathered her things and stormed out.
"Well," Evan's grandma said as the sound of screeching tires faded. "I suppose now's a good time for cake."
_________________
I managed to sneak away after being scolded for half an hour, which was quite an achievement for me. Evan stayed downstairs to appease his dad. I grabbed his laptop and shut myself in the bathroom, the only place in the house where people knocked before they came in. The tile was cold and a little damp beside the sink, but I didn't care so long as I got some quiet.
I searched restlessly for something on Project Bluebird, but nothing interesting came up. I couldn't remember the other acronym that came after it, or where Evan had stashed the paperwork.
Something wasn't right about those men going to Damion's house. How did they know it was our flashlight? Or where he lived. I gave up on the internet for a while and laid my head against the cabinet. Someone tapped on the door.
"Are you alive?" He called out quietly.
"Not really," I leaned up to undo the lock. "How are my chances of getting out of here and back before anyone notices?"
Evan shut the door behind himself and slid down. He curled his legs uncomfortably close to his chest to make room. "An hour tops. Dad expects us to be working on a project."
"Cover for me." I handed him the laptop and dusted myself off. "I'm going on a recon mission."
There were many, many reasons that Evan was my best friend. Our mutual love of video-games and James Bond movies, our hatred of Principal Holloway. It really was the little things that pulled us together, like how he didn't question why I needed to climb out of his bedroom window at three in the afternoon on a Saturday or borrow his car to sneak across town.
Damion lived in the same downtrodden apartment complex as he had when he first moved to Notting Falls back in middle school. His bedroom window was at the back of the building, third floor, on the very far corner. I climbed the fire escape that he had no doubt left down as an easy escape. I passed the others shut windows and perched on his with ease. The curtains were open, and the window was cracked.
Damion was on the floor, knees curled to his chest. There was a barbie of some kind clutched in one hand, and the other help a small plastic dragon. A little dark haired girl was laying on her side, almost crying with laughter as he smashed the two together, making horribly inaccurate explosion noises. I bit the inside of my cheek and let my book bag fall onto the grated metal. The girl glanced over to where I was sitting and gestured for Damion to look.
His hair was colored with a new bruise on his left temple and his hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. The smile dropped from his lips the moment he caught sight of me. I waved unsurely. This couldn't have been that bad of an idea, right?
"Elizabeth, go to your room for a few minutes, will you?" Damion asked as he set the toys on the ground. He dusted his pants off and Eliza scrambled to comply. She snatched the toys up and ran out of the room, closing the door loudly behind her. "Hi," I pushed the window the rest of the way open. Damion crossed his arms and glared down. "Is it too late to ask if I can come in?"
"What do you want?" He snapped.
"I wanted to make sure that you were okay." I slid my legs inside and hopped down from the sill. Damion snorted and sat down on the bare mattress by the window. I nudged another toy out of my way and sat next to him.
His bedroom had hardly changed since I had last been in it; the yellow wallpaper was faded and peeling, the floorboards were scratched, and it was completely bare besides a few pairs of dirty shoes, a suitcase, and a closet with a toy chest.
Something slammed down in the living room and was followed by curses and someone banging on the wall. Damion kept his eyes on the ground while I watched him.
"You know," I drawled out. "It may have been a while since we've talked, but you're still horrible at keeping lying. I saw the way you reacted when you were talking about the guy coming to your house."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Damion scratched the torn denim. It barely covered his knees. I had to tuck my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting with the loose strings.
"Damion," I said. "If you're not telling us something important-"
"I wouldn't lie about that," he snapped. "You know that."
"Do I?"
To say that he was pissed would be an understatement. Damion's face flushed and his free fist clenched by his side. I felt like a dick, but doubting him would be the fastest way to getting answers.
It was the right choice. He sagged in a few seconds like he decided that being defensive wasn't worth it. His eyes were dark and hollow when they met mine. "It was just really weird. That guy knew my name, address, and where I went to school. He even knew 'Liza's name."
"Do you have any idea how he could have known you were at the warehouse?"
"A car passed me," Damion perked up a little. "When I was about a block away but it didn't slow down or anything. I don't think anyone could have gotten that good of a look at me going that fast."
"Its a start. What did it look like?" I pulled Evan's laptop out.
"Black, and big, like a Suburban or something," he trailed off. "Why are you writing this down?"
"Because, my dear Watson, something fishy is going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it."
Damion was trying not to smile, I could tell. His cheeks twitched, sure, but the real light was in his eyes. I bent back over the computer and pretended like that didn't make my stomach jump, because now was not the time to reminisce on childhood crushes.
The small, quiet moment was ruined, of course, when Elizabeth burst through the door, panting and doubled over. "There're men downstairs looking for you," She breathed out.
_______________________
It took us five seconds to gather anything we needed and to hop onto the fire-escape. Damion leaned back through the hug Elizabeth while I put the computer away. "You'll be okay here, right?"
"Yeah," She replied, but her voice wavered.
"Tell mom that I went out for a while and stay close to home." He shut the window solidly and gestured for me to climb down. One of the great things about Damion, it seemed, was that even though we had hardly spoken a word to each other for six years, we still worked well as a team. We made it down the street and to the car with no trouble. I shoved him down in the passenger seat and tossed my jacket over him. "Be still! I'm going to drive around the block to see who's there."
Three men, two women, and a massive suburban. They were in tactical gear and gathering a lot of attention from the neighbors. I drove by slowly and did my best to make it seem like I wasn't staring. One of the men was passing between two of the parked cars, trying to cross the street. Our eyes met for a split second before I focused back on the road, but it was enough to give me chills. I pressed the gas down and passed him; the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I could swear that he knew Damion was hiding with me.
Four blocks over, Damion sat up and threw his makeshift cover into the backseat. "Where are we going?"
"Back to Evan's house. They don't know about us being there, as far as we know, so its safe."
"No way! Pull over," he ripped his seatbelt off so fast that I almost swerved.
"Damion, those guys weren't cops. They weren't even wearing badges. They're from Colton," I cranked the heater up a few notches. Had the temperature dropped that fast? My hands were numb from where they gripped the steering wheel.
"And what happens after today? I can't just not go home."
"We'll figure it out. Someone at school will be gossiping if they're searching for you."
"You're harboring a fugitive if you keep helping me."
I snorted. "Great, I can add you to the pile of resentment, anxiety and emotional problems."
Damion didn't find that as funny as I did. Neither of us spoke again until I pulled into Evan's driveway. I elbowed him. "It'll be okay. They won't do anything to you, even if they do find you."
Famous last words.