Page 10 of Lock Me Out

As usual, my stomach churns when I think of him, meaning I should stop thinking about him. He’s already taken up enough space in my life and doesn’t deserve another inch.

Besides, there’s already so much going on in my head. Who am I to worry about Colt and what he’s going through when I’m sitting here with the feeling that I’m being watched?

I have to be imagining it. I mean, I’m sitting here in a theater full of people—of course, there’s bound to be somebody looking at me at some point, right? There are rows and rows of seats behind me. I need to get out more if just going out to a movie with my best friend has me this freaked out.

Grabbing a handful of popcorn, I decide to focus on the movie and ignore the way my skin keeps crawling. I have everything in life, don’t I? I have a boyfriend who loves me. I live in a beautiful apartment. I go to school, and even if I don’t have a ton of friends, I have Piper. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s quality over quantity every time. I could have a hundred shitty friends who make my life miserable and keep me guessing whether or not they actually like me, or I could have one good friend who I know wants the best for me. I have it better than a lot of people do when I look at my life that way.

So why the hell am I sitting here wishing I could run out of the theater because I can’t shake the feeling of being studied? Not just watched, but actually studied, like I’m a science project. Who am I to wonder whether Colt needs to talk to somebody about his inability to face the truth when I’m making up an entire story in my head?

A story that makes me look over my shoulder as casually as I can, scanning the seats behind me. What do I expect to find? The Grim Reaper? Somebody holding a scythe? Somebody dragging their thumb across their throat before pointing at me? Maybe a big old sign: “I am going to kill Leni Peterson.”

At least my snickering is covered by the laughter of the audience, who are actually paying attention to the movie.

I’m almost kind of sad when the credits start to roll and the lights come up. Once again, I let my inner thoughts get in the way of the present moment. “That was fun. Sometimes you just need something that doesn’t make you think, you know?”

“Yeah, you just need to turn off your brain for a little while. Really, I should’ve stayed home and studied for physics.” She groans while gathering up the leftovers of our snacks. “But Iliterally could not take another second of it. The words were starting to switch places on the page.”

“Just don’t blame me if you don’t get a good grade on the exam.” I’m teasing, laughing, while at the same time looking around to see if I can figure out who might have been watching me from one of the back rows now that the lights are up. There are so many people—I didn’t think the theater would be this crowded so late on a weeknight. I guess I’m not the only person who wanted to escape reality for a little while.

“You know me,” she jokes, waving a hand. “I’ll take a nap when I get back to my room and cram a little more until the second before class starts, and I’ll end up getting an A.”

“I would call that humble bragging, but you’re not even being humble about it.” We’re both laughing as we walk out of the theater with only a few people behind us at this point.

The hallway and lobby are completely choked with people. I guess all the movies got out around the same time, all of the theaters emptying out at once. “Glad I don’t have to pee,” I mutter, eyeing the number of women heading for the bathrooms.

Piper only groans. “I knew that large Diet Coke would be a bad idea.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, grimacing.

“Go ahead, I’ll wait,” I offer, even though I’m pretty sure I’ll end up waiting forever at this rate. There’s a bench near the hallway leading to the restrooms, so I plop down and pull out my phone to text Colt and let him know I’m going to be home soon.

“I thought something smelled like shit around here. Now I know why.”

I look up before I can think twice, more curious than anything else. But I know before I’ve even made eye contact with the person that nasty voice belongs to who I’m going to find. There’s only one person I’ve ever met who manages to sound so disgusted.

Deborah changed her hair color recently. Now it’s a vibrant, almost platinum blonde that shimmers when she shakes her head disapprovingly. “I’m surprised Colt lets you out without a leash.”

“Maybe he hopes she won’t be able to find her way home.” That charming little quip comes from the guy she’s standing next to, who I realize after a few confused seconds is Bradley’s brother, Dennis. He looks me up and down, just as hateful and smug as the girl he drapes an arm around. “He might as well leave her in town with a sign that saysfree to a good home.”

Of course, Deborah laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. That’s how she is. It doesn’t matter who she’s with. She’ll treat them like they’re the funniest, most interesting person who ever lived, so long as they pretend to like her. I would feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a disgusting person.

Of all times for Piper to need a bathroom break. I have to sit here while they laugh at me, while the people still leaving the different theaters glance our way in curiosity as they walk past. A few of them look sorry for me, which only makes it worse.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. There’s only so long I can pretend not to be bothered. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” I ask, and I’m not faking how tired I sound. I’m exhausted by all of this. Why can’t she move on?

“Just now? No, I don’t. Because I don’t like it when people leave trash lying around,” she retorts, hands on her hips. “And you are most definitely trash.”

“Sorry you feel that way.” Because if there’s one thing I know she hates, it’s when I don’t react. That’s how bullies function. Taking away the reaction they’re looking for is like taking away their oxygen. With a sigh, I turn back to my phone, trembling a little but pretending not to care.

“Everybody knows what you did.”

Those are the exact words my online bullies used the last time they sent a message. It takes every ounce of self-control to not react when, really, I want to scream. I want to jump off this bench and pull every strand of fake platinum hair out of her scalp. I might shove it down her throat while I’m at it.

“And exactly what did I do? Since you seem to know so much about me,” I reply without looking up. It’s actually a shame Piper isn’t here to see this. She would be proud of how casual I’m acting.

“Don’t be cute,” Deborah warns. “It doesn’t work for you. And you know exactly what I’m talking about, you little cunt. Where is Bradley?”

Is that what this is all about? Curiosity and surprise make me lift my gaze away from the phone and look at her for the first time. “How would I know where Bradley is? Seriously, why would I know that?”

“For starters, my brother was supposed to be hanging out with Nix the day of that so-called accident at your house.” Dennis drops his arm from around Deborah’s waist so he can fold both of them over his chest. I wish I could say I wasn’t intimidated.

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