Page 52 of The Obsession

I jumped a little then composed myself and gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it all up, I promise.”

Luckily, Mom was still too sleepy to notice my little jump. “What are you making this time?”

“Rocky Road cupcakes. Marshmallow?” I pushed an open bag of marshmallows across the kitchen island.

Mom poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the counter. “Sounds yummy. What’s with the hardcore baking sessions nowadays?”

“I’ve been watching these cooking videos on Facebook, and some of the recipes look so delish.”

“So they have nothing to do with wanting to impress Logan?” she asked, grinning at me.

“Ew, no!” My cheeks grew warm, and I turned to look at the oven so Mom wouldn’t be able to see my expression. She’d think I was blushing because I was shy. The truth was, I was turning red because I was practically boiling with rage. I was on a mission, the most important quest that would make or break the rest of my life: I was going to drug Logan, keep him off balance until I could find some way of escaping this nightmare, and my own mother was so clueless she thought I was just doing this to impress my boyfriend. Unbidden, Brandon’s voice rose to the surface, like a bubble floating up a dank swamp, bursting, releasing its noxious poison fumes.Stupid bitch.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. I shouldn’t be angry at Mom. None of this was her fault. Okay, some of it was her fault. But most of it was Logan’s. All of my pent-up rage, my cold fury, should be directed at him. I took a deep breath.

Mom laughed. “It’s okay to want to do nice things for your boyfriend, Dee. Mmm, they really do smell good.”

I turned around in time to see Mom reaching to dip her finger into the frosting bowl. “No!” I leapt across the counter and smacked her hand.

“Ouch! Heeey!” Mom said, frowning and rubbing her hand.

“That one’s got peanut butter in it,” I said, taking the mixing bowl away from her. “I don’t want you to break out in a rash.”

“Ugh. What’s with all the peanuts you’re using in your baking?” Mom grumbled. “Last time it was caramel peanut butter cookies, and then the time before that it was banana peanut butter muffins, and now—”

“I knew you’d say that, which is why I’ve got a peanut-free batch in the fridge.”

Mom brightened up. “Really? Best daughter ever.” She pinched my cheek like I was all of two years old and walked out of the kitchen, humming to herself. I didn’t want to wait around to have a chat with Mom about baking and impressing the boyfriend I was desperate to get rid of, so once the second batch was out, I washed all the dirty dishes, separated the cupcakes into various Tupperware containers, and zipped out of the house.

On the bus to Draycott, I did what I’d been obsessing over the last few days: I ruminated on how the hell I could get myself free of Logan. Step One was easy: throw him off balance so I could plot the next step. Step Two: um…

I caught a corner of my thumbnail between my teeth and yanked hard, ripping the tip of the nail off. The pain snatched me from my dark thoughts, and I watched the blood welling from my thumb. It made me think of Brandon’s blood. I licked it off and squeezed my thumb, watching as more blood trickled out.

Before I knew it, I was at Draycott.

Aisha was still grumpy with sleep when she opened the door to her room. “Why do you always insist on meeting so early?” she grumbled, slouching back in and slumping down on her bed.

“Uh, it’s almost noon, and I brought cupcakes.” I held up a container of frosting-free cupcakes, and she snatched it from my hands.

She inhaled deeply and sighed. “Mmm, real sugar. Frikkin’ Draycott. Everything here’s made with agave nectar or some other bullshit healthy sweetener. You know, before I came here, I was whatever about sugar. Now I legit crave it. This place is gonna give me an eating disorder, I swear.” She took a big bite and leaned back with a happy grunt. “This is so good, Dee.”

“It’s just a boxed cake mix. All I had to do was add eggs and oil to the mix.”

“That’s why it’s so good.” She ducked, laughing, when I took a swipe at her. Then her expression turned somber, and she leveled her gaze at me. “How’re you holding up?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I still don’t know how I’m going to get out of this.”

“Well,” Aisha said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and you said he has a video he’s holding over you. What do you think of breaking into his room and looking for it?”

My mouth dropped open. I was about to tell her that the idea was completely nuts when my mind caught up with my mouth and closed it. Why not? Step Two: find the video of me killing Brandon. Once that was gone, Logan would have nothing to hold over me. And where else would it be if not his room? But the thought of breaking into Logan’s room made my stomach twist in a way that stole my breath. “I don’t know. How would I even do that?” I may be a drug dealer, but when it came to breaking and entering, I was as clueless as they come. Also, it sounded dangerous as hell. “If I got caught, I’d be expelled—”

“Okay, first of all, I think you mean how wouldwedo that.”

“Aish, I can’t make you do that. It’s so dangerous. We could get in so much trouble.”

Aisha snorted. “Dude, I’ve been a model student all my life. I’m dying to break some rules before I graduate. Plus, it’s for a good cause. I hate the thought of some asshole guy blackmailing you. Even if he is hot.”

I hugged her tight. It felt good to have Aisha on my side. I really didn’t deserve her. She and Mom were the only two people keeping me going.

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