Page 44 of Amethyst Flame
Babochka? Did he just call me an old lady? Swann’s family housekeeper had been an older Polish lady who sometimes said she was our babushka—our grandmother.
But a quick search had another translation: Russian for butterfly.
It was too much of a coincidence. Not only did he know about me, about my moths, but he knew that butterflies, in particular, were my signature. How he knew, I had no idea—maybe that stunt in Vegas?—but he definitely knew.
Blowing out a hard breath, I glanced back, but the tall blond had disappeared in the glinting light off all the windshields.
My phone pinged with a notification. Muttering, I thumbed it open.
I’m not alone. I’m with my friends
As if there hadn’t been almost 24 hours since my message to Bri.
See? Parents, so paranoid.
Good for you,I typed back.These the same friends who left you holding the spray paint and told you to bring the beer
There was a long delay with the ellipsis of typing.Did dad tell you that
Your daddy didn’t tell me anything, I replied.I just know those kinds of friends
I felt a little bad throwing Swann under that cliché bus considering our first foray into underage drinking had been stealing her mom’s fifty-year-old Scotch because, as Swann had said, “We should start with the good stuff,” but which instead had turned us off drinking completely for the next three years.
Let’s meet up, I told Brianna.
Another delay.You’re just going to make me go home
I’ll have you know I’ve never kidnapped anyone, I shot back quickly as if she could’ve heard my outrage via my fingertips.
I don’t believe you
The ellipsis stayed up, so I waited as she kept typing.I mean I believe you haven’t kidnapped anyone but you will make me go home
I promise I won’t,I typed. Which wouldn’t convince me, so I added something motivating.I’ll give you money
Probably a terrible idea, but if she agreed at least I’d have proof of life.
How much
I snorted to myself.Come find out
Another delay.When and where
I didn’t want to give her time to chicken out.An hour. Arbolito Mall. My mean streak made me add,Outside Hot Topic
Rude, came the reply.
Dumb, I typed back.
She didn’t reply again. Well, I’d be there anyway. I deserved a soft pretzel with extra cheese after everything I’d been through.
Traffic wasn’t bad, so I got to the mall, parked, went to our rendezvous site, and bought two slap bracelets in an oil-slick finish like poison rainbows. I smacked the wide plastic-wrapped coiled metal around my wrists.
When I wandered out of the second-floor store, Brianna was lurking at the railing, staring toward me. “Imogen?”
Of course she knew what I looked like. She’d probably found all my socials almost as easily as I scraped her juvie record but without any of my illicit advantages. “Brianna.”
“Bri, actually,” she said. “Like Bright.”
