Page 16 of Severance

Jess blinks rapidly at me but doesn’t say anything.

“All you have to do to get your own Wikipedia page is kill someone.” My mouth twists in disgust, and I can feel rage filling every part of me from the inside. “Dakota doesn’t have one.”

“We can make him one,” Jess offers placatingly.

“But that’s not right!” My tone is now angry and high-pitched. “We shouldn’thaveto make him one! Don’t you understand?”

“We’ll make him one, okay?” she repeats, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

I know it’s supposed to feel better when your best friend hugs you, but it doesn’t anymore.

5. Before

We’re in my room, sitting on top of my queen-size bed. Jess is trolling Midnight Rust YouTube videos while I try to finish up my essay on failure and success before getting ready for my shift at the bakery. But the truth is, my mind isn’t in the mood for my studies or work.

All I’ve been thinking about this past week is Dakota. He texted me out of the blue on Wednesday when I was in class. It was just a simple “hey” and a microphone emoji, but it took me a whole day to come up with a fitting response because I’ve never been in a text message relationship with a guy before.

It’s funny how you can barely know a person, but he’ll still be the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning. Without much effort, Dakota Bennett has planted himself into my life so deeply that it scares me.

“This song is life,” Jess says as if on cue, rolling onto her side to face me. “I have no idea why we’ve never heard of these guys. They’re so good.”

I pluck the pencil I’ve been chewing on for the last hour from my mouth and set my notebook on the nightstand. Homework isn’t happening today. Not with Jess spinning the same song over and over again and shoving her laptop at me every two seconds. Dakota’s voice is way too distracting.

“Next weekend, you should wear that red crop top I gave you for your birthday,” she suggests.

An image of my father chasing me with a jug of holy water comes to mind.

“You know what my mom said when she saw it?” I ask, laughing.

“You showed it to your mom?” Jess’s eyes are full of horror. After my father almost kicked Jess out for giving me black nail polish with sparkles for my thirteenth birthday, we agreed to keep all her gifts private.

“She said it ended before it even began.”

Jess moves the laptop aside and rolls onto her back, eyes trained on the ceiling and her face tense. “Your mom is so weird.”

Her words bite a little. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and pauses. “Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against your dad. He’s a solid dude, but he’s got some loose screws. Why did your mom…marry him?”

Her question startles me, and not because it’s sudden or inappropriate but because I’ve actually asked myself the same thing lately. A lot. Do people see my family the same way Jess sees it? A religious fanatic father ruling the household with an iron fist and a mother and daughter who follow him like sheep. Is this an accurate picture?

“Why does that make my mom weird?” I ask quietly.

Jess confirms my theory. “Your dad acts like he owns you both and she never says anything. You still have to lie to him about where you go.”

The eerie silence that settles between us lasts for a good minute as I try to digest everything Jess just dumped on me. The YouTube video has come to an end, and now there’s no more music and I’m missing the quiet storm of Dakota’s voice.

“Just because he’s paying your tuition doesn’t mean he should tell you what to do.” Jess reaches for the laptop and switches the browser windows. My eyes catch a collection of Midnight Rust photos on the screen.

“You’re stalking the band now?” I ask, totally forgetting about my parents because there, in one of the shots, Dakota is shirtless. He’s in the middle of the group, laughing, his face turned slightly away from the camera. It looks like a post-show cell phone photo with fans or friends. His hair’s wet and his body glistens with sweat. The image is somewhat blurry, but that’s a good thing. Seeing that much skin confuses me even more.

“I’m conducting a study.” Jess giggles. “The drummer may have asked me out.”

“No way!”

“Yes way!” She flips over onto her stomach and slides the laptop toward me.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I glance at the screen again. Something inside me twinges. A jealousy streak maybe, because in the photo, there’s a ridiculously perfect girl next to Dakota—the kind who’d fit him better than me—with long platinum blond hair and a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder.

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