Page 48 of Rot

I’d admit, it took him longer to show than I thought it would, but nevertheless, Jordan came around the exact same moment I was closing my locker and tossing my bag over my shoulder.

“Hey,” he spoke. “Can we please talk?”

I let out a sigh, but it was a long, lingering one, as if I was growing tired of being so standoffish, like I was done shutting him down. “I don’t know, Jordan.” I turned my back to him, walking away, through the hall and towards the main exit.

He followed me, walking with me. “Please, Sloane. You can’t ignore me forever.”

I was pretty sure the only reason we were having this discussion was because I’d given him that look during lunch, but what did I know? It wasn’t like I was a master at ignoring people… no, wait, I was. I ignored people and the weird looks and the gossip about me my whole damn life. If Jordan thought this was something new to me, he was stupider than I gave him credit for.

We exited the school, stepping out into the bright light of day. I’d taken my time in grabbing my stuff, so through the crowded parking lot of old, well-used vehicles, I saw Elias waiting for me in his car.

My feet stopped, and I turned toward Jordan. “Look, what you and your sister did—” I stopped as the wind rustled by, caressing my cheeks. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” I turned away from him, five steps from the asphalt parking lot. Across the lot, Elias had spotted me… and he saw the exact moment Jordan reached out for me, grabbed me by the elbow, and forced me to stop and face him once again.

“I’m sorry,” Jordan said for the millionth time. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I could’ve gotten out and gotten our clothes back. You didn’t need to send Elias—”

First, how in the hell was I supposed to trust him in getting our clothes back when it was his sister who had taken them in the first place? They were obviously close as siblings, not the kind that hated each other and were at each other’s necks constantly.

Secondly, I didn’t send Elias to do anything. Elias had beaten him up on his own, without me telling him to.

“I feel like you and your sister went behind my back and planned it out. I feel like you two were waiting for the right moment to try to… I don’t know, hurt me, I guess,” I explained, sounding exactly how I wanted to: like an anxious, innocent girl who’d gotten caught up in everything.

Jordan, as bruised as he was, looked sad. “Sloane, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. My sister is… well, it’s hard to say no to her. Impossible, really, but I should’ve. I should’ve told her it was a stupid prank and—”

The wind blew again, and this time a nagging feeling crept over my skin, giving me goosebumps. As Jordan went on and on about how he’d fucked up, I threw a glance over my shoulder. The parking lot had emptied somewhat, but there were still parents in line to pick up their kids who didn’t have cars of their own.

Elias was no longer in his parking spot. He’d left me there, probably because he saw me talking to Jordan. That’s what I expected would happen, what I planned on happening.

But this strange feeling, it wasn’t about that. No. As my eyes surveyed the parking lot, I spotted a black car idling in the farthest corner, the driver wearing black sunglasses. It was a car I’d never seen before, and though the driver wasn’t exactly close by, I knew it in my heart.

That guy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Sloane,” Jordan’s voice brought me back to the present, and I whipped my head back to him, refocusing on the boy in front of me and not the strange car in the parking lot. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I did. It’s just—” I threw another glance over my shoulder. “I think Elias saw me talking to you and left me here.” I wasn’t looking at Elias’s vacant spot, though; I stared at the black car and the driver, wondering who it was.

“Shit. Um.” Jordan scratched the back of his neck, acting a little awkward. “I could drive you home, if you want? Unless you don’t want to be alone with me, which I totally get if you don’t, otherwise I can—” He stopped rambling when I nodded.

“Sure,” I said, giving him an easy smile. “That’d be great. What about your sister?”

“Oh, she always goes home with Carly. We don’t drive together.” He shrugged.

Good. The last thing I needed right now was Dana. That girl thought she could bully me into submission, make me feel like shit just because my father was a serial killer? Please. Such juvenile games she played. I wanted to show her that I wouldn’t play that particular game.

No. My games were much more serious.

I walked with Jordan to his car on the side of the lot, and before I got in, I surveyed the area one last time, my eyes landing on the black car and the unfamiliar driver. Was it just me, or did the driver’s head turn to follow me as I’d walked with Jordan? Was he… watchingme?

Paranoia was a thing my mother dealt with, not me, and yet as Jordan started the car and drove us, I couldn’t help but think that man, whoever he’d been, had been watching me. I didn’t know why he would be, for I’d never seen that man before in my life.

Jordan turned to head to my house, but I had something else in mind. I asked, faking hesitancy, “Could we… go somewhere to talk? Somewhere private?” When he glanced at me, questioning, I batted my eyelashes at him extra hard.

He relented, like I knew he would: “Sure.” He didn’t ask me why I wanted to talk to him somewhere private. All he did was drive us away from the heart of Blackrain and to the boonies, as people around here said. The boonies were where the high school kids liked to throw their parties, in the middle of the woods, where there were no houses around. No sidewalks, hardly any other souls on the road.

Even now, I couldn’t get over how different this place was from what I was used to. I was accustomed to always being watched, to someone’s eyes always on me—usually my grandmother’s. She watched me in a way no one else could, because she was the only one who knew about the rot in me. The others hated me for who my father was, but my grandmother had hated me for me.

I could never be good enough for a woman like that. No matter what I did or what I said, it was never good enough, and she made sure to remind me of that at every opportunity. My grandmother was the opposite of a kind woman.

Perhaps, I realized as Jordan drove us to the middle of nowhere, my father wasn’t the only one I’d inherited the rot from. Maybe my grandmother had a bit of it inside her too, so she could recognize it inside of me. Maybe my grandmother and I weren’t so different after all.

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