"How was school?" Mom asks me when I get home later that day. I slam the screen door of the house, which is riddled with holes. The biggest is a long gash from where I tried out my first pocket knife.
"I hate school," I remind her. "And everyone in it."
"I'm sorry," Mom says. "Have an apple."
I grab an apple from the counter and bang my bag on the floor. Another piece of linoleum chips away.
"Riley..."
"We need a new floor," I mutter.
"You need to stop breaking things," Mom replies.
"I meant it, you know," I say, changing the subject abruptly. "About hating everyone."
Mom puts down the knife she was using to dice carrots. "Try getting involved in something. You always stay here or in the woods. How about you reach out and do what other kids like?"
"Everyone else likes stupid things."
"What about theater? You were in that play in middle school."
"No." Daria Holden is in the drama club.
"Volleyball?"
"No." The volleyball team is run by Poppy and Lynn.
"Marching band."
That's out of the question. Isaac Lamarr's mother makes him play in it, and I can't stand Isaac. "No way."
"Robotics club."
This is getting ridiculous. "I broke our toaster."
My mother puts her hands on her hips. "Riley, no one can help you if you won't help yourself."
I don't want help. I want everyone at school to get there head screwed on straight.
"And don't give me that look," Mom continues. "Young Lady, I will send you to your room." She turns back to the carrots.
I scowl at her back, then stomp quickly outside before she notices. The woods behind my house are where I thrive. A creek laces through the trees like a clear strike of liquid lightning, and all sorts of plants grow in the vast, solitary realm. Houses edge the treeline, but inside? It's a free zone. I want to be ignored out here. No one can hurt me. Taunting comments and false friends deflect of the smooth rocks and tree bark like stones skipping across water. Here, I'm not the girl everybody knows to stay away from. I'm just Riley.
It's safe, too, as long as I remain within the Rimwick border.
I've only been out for a few minutes when a pack of boys appears. Oh, great. That's just wonderful. I find myself wondering if anyone would notice four dead bodies in the woods, but then decide killing them would completely destroy the serenity of the forest. It's not like they're bothering me yet, anyway.
"Hey!" one of them shouts. It's Jay Atkins. His puffy afro makes him stand out from the others- this town was slathered in whitewash. "Look!" he yells. "It's Riley!"
I gaze for a minute at the laughing, jostling boys, the turn away and tramp in a different direction. They follow me for a few minutes, calling things like, "How's your witch mom?" and, "Seen your dad lately?" until I finally turn around and politely tell them to shut their faces or I'll rip out their intestines and throw them into a tree.
Jay steps forwards, honey-grim skin reflecting the dappled sunlight. The crooked grin that crosses a strong jaw line doesn't match his dark eyes, narrowed and coming together in a point. Of all the boys at school, Jay is my least favorite. He's cruel and cold, and treated like a king by his little group.
"Hello, Riley," he says.
"Hello, dimwitted two-faced newt," I reply.
Isaac Lamarr, who I loathe only slightly less than Jay, laughs like I'm adorable. This unfailingly makes me want to break his ribs.
"I just wanted to ask you something," Jay says, passively.
"Where I think you should stick your sorry carcass?" I clarify. "A dump full of fire ants."
He looks smug. "Tempting. But no. Would you like to hear my question?"
"No. But I'm pretty sure you're going to ask it anyway."
"Will you go to the next school dance with me?"
His little friends snicker, and I wait for the punch line. He asked me for real once, when we were twelve. I wore an ivory dress under my peacoat and he said I looked like an angel. But that was eons ago.
"I know it's a few weeks away," Jay continues, "but I wanted to ask you before someone else could. Everyone likes your... hm, well, your personality kind of stinks... I guess we're after your money."
"Jay Atkins, you are by far the most vile piece of human waste that ever existed in this town." The insult doesn't do him justice, but I have to act fast to keep up my reputation.
"Oh, are you talking to me? Sorry, I thought you were describing your dad."
I sock him. I can't think, can't see, just do it- my fist lancing straight between his eyes. He flails backwards. I turn and run.
"Aw, come on!" Isaac calls. "Don't be that way!"
"Witch's daughter," Jay jeers.
I go to the creek. The weather's been chilly lately, and the water is partly iced over, but a crescent of sandy bank remains for me to slide onto. The familiar warmth of its winter coolness is comforting.
I hate them. I hate them all so much.
Giggles echo from upstream. I sit up, not wanting to be bothered anymore, but it's just Teryn Atkins and Sylvia Lamarr. They're a pair of rosy cheeked, eight year old best friends who still don't know that they're supposed to stay away from me. The children in this town are so innocent. The only rule they know is to stay inside after sundown.
Sylvia and Teryn squeal as water splashes towards their shoes. They leap back, playing an old game of stay-away, until Sylvia loses her footing. Teryn shrieks as her friend slips into the frigid creek.
I jump up, pulling off my jacket and lunging down the sandy slope for Sylvia. Grabbing the back of her coat, I haul her onto the bank.
Sylvia gasps air into frozen lungs. Her wet brown curls are plastered to her face. She has to get warm, fast. The winter water is icy and the chilled wind blowing snow off the trees isn't helping.
I reach for my coat and pull it over Sylvia. She burrows into me, tiny teeth chattering like they want to escape her head. Teryn is crying.
"Shh," I say. "I'm going to take you home."
Teryn nods, scrubbing at her eyes. Sylvia blinks at me. Her lips are turning blue.
There's a path on this side of the creek. We walk along it until we get to the back doors of Sylvia and Teryn's neighborhood. I know right where it is, because it's really the only neighborhood in Rimwick. People here clump together for safety.
The houses vary slightly, but they're all bi-levels with neatly trimmed yards and iron railings that stand firm against concrete front steps. When I was younger, I would come here and scribble all over those stairs in chalk with my friends. That was a long time ago.
Teryn dashes ahead of me and rings the Lamarr's doorbell. I follow more slowly, still carrying Sylvia. After a few moments Mrs. Lamarr comes out. She has the same curly brown hair and blue eyes as her children, but her face is lined with the fear and weariness that settles all over Rimwick at night. It's growing dark outside.
"Mrs. Lamarr?" I ask. "I brought your daughter. She fell in the creek."
"Oh! Sylvia, Sweetheart, you were supposed to stay with your brother." She reaches out for the shivering girl. I hand her over, keeping my jacket firmly around her shoulders.
Teryn skips into the house, and after a moment of hesitation, I follow. They might need my help with something.
"Teryn, please go get a change of clothes for Sylvie," Mrs. Lamarr orders. She puts ingredients in a pot on the stove. Soup, most likely, to warm her daughter up.
The kitchen is warm and calming after the cold fury of the outdoors. Sylvia, sitting in a chair at the table, blinks up at me from underneath long lashes.
"Did you really put barbed wire on the Atkins' truck?"
I nod.
"And cotton in Daria Holden's locker?"
Another nod.
"Is she allergic to cotton?"
Yes, she is. I nod a third time.
"And did your papa die?"
I don't answer this one.
Mrs. Lamarr comes over and spoons soup into Sylvia's mouth. "That's enough questions, Sweetie. Teryn!"
Teryn bounces into the kitchen and hands Mrs. Lamarr some clothes.
"Thank you. You'd better scoot home, now, before your father worries."
We all look out the window. The twilight world is quickly fading to total black.
Teryn frowns.
The front door slams open and Isaac comes running in, breathless. "Mom, I can't find-" He stops when he sees me. "Riley?"
I can't miss the accusatory note filtering through his voice. "I just brought Sylvia home. She fell in the creek."
"Oh." He blinks. "Sylvie. Thanks."
We stand awkwardly for a minute, and I want to be just about anywhere else. I don't belong in this immaculate neighborhood with people who wish I didn't exist.
Behind me, Teryn sneezes. Relieved to have an excuse to get away from here, I ask, "Do you want me to walk you home? It's almost dark."
She beams at me. "Yes, please. Thanks, Riley."
"Alright," Mrs. Lamarr says. "It was nice to see you again, Riley. Thank you for Sylvia."
I nod and follow Teryn out of the house.
Street lights flicker on as the air grows chillier and Rimwick turns to dusk. Teryn lives a few streets down from here, next to the church graveyard, in the part of the neighborhood with houses that have given up trying to be neat. Her home is the rundown one in the very back with dim windows and a tilted railing. It looks like an artist's slapdash attempt to paint with dust and cobwebs.
Jay sits on the front stoop, glaring into the evening, waiting. When he sees us he runs forward and grabs Teryn's shoulders.
"Well?" he demands, shaking her. "What are you doing out so late, huh?"
She starts to cry. "I'm sorry! We were just playing!"
"Not after dark!" he snaps, then crushes her against his chest. "Never go out after dark. I don't want to lose you too, okay?"
She nods into his embrace, whimpering. Jay turns his glare on me.
"And what are you doing here?"
"I was making sure she got back safely."
"Well she did," Jay says, tightly. "Now go home."
He pulls his sister into their worn-out house. I see the lights go on inside as the door slams shut.
The night is totally black, now, except for the guardian light of the street lamps. No one is out besides me. I fold my arms, missing my jacket's warmth, and head home quickly. It's dangerous to be out at night. But I don't run.
If you run in Rimwick, something chases you.