Page 10 of Terror Tuesday
Is that sick? Is it wrong?
Does that make me just as bad as the man who killed them?
I press my palms against the slick ceramic, grounding myself. My hands are still shaking. The blood might wash off, scalded away by the heat, but their deaths won’t.
I’m stained deeper than sin.
Marked in places no shower can reach, no mirror will ever reflect. In ways my mother couldn’t understand if she were here, stroking my hair, cooing,“It’ll be okay,”like she used to when I had fevers. I can almost feel her arms around me. Almost.
But she’s not here.
No one is.
Can I be safe now? Can someone take care of me?
Pink water flows off my hair and body, swirling down the drain. Eventually, it becomes clear, and my tears end. By the time I step out, my mask is already forming. Olivia Cardell. Perfect sorority president and the girl who doesn’t break.
It’s not just a cover-up... The face I put on for everyone else is my disguise. My protection and penance.
To survive at Northview, I became what they wanted: obedient toCaliphylla, faithful to the Seventh Society. As we devotees are taught, if I stay perfect, if I obey the rules, then maybe I’ll be rewarded with a prestigious appointment and a future I’ve dreamed of. One in politics. I’ll be the girl with thepristine family, the right resume, the gold star ribbon, and a shiny engagement ring.
But as I brush out my dark hair and scrub the last trace of blood from my teeth, something whispers beneath my skin:
What if I don’t want it anymore?
What if I was never that girl to begin with?
And if they all find out what happened to me…then they’ll know—I’m not so perfect after all. Tainted. Stained. And ruined.
Still, I lift my chin. Tie the towel tight.
No one can know.
Rolling my shoulders back, I step into my room. Then freeze. Someone’s inside.
“Why are you up so late?”
I heave a sigh of relief at my best friend and vice president squatting on my bed. Familiar and soothing in her striped silk pajama set and with her hair wrapped in a pink bonnet. It could be any regular night we talk about boys.
Tension dissolves from my neck for the first time tonight. I grab a large sleep shirt and toss it over my head, followed by a fresh pair of panties underneath. “Why areyouup so late?” Shoving her lengthy bronze legs aside, I slide into the bed as she leans against the wall and grabs my pink bear to squeeze. Her brown eyes won’t meet mine.
“Did you just leave Hunter’s?”
“No… What’s wrong?” I attempt to change the subject, but she also seems as if there’s something she’s struggling with.
“Heard there was a shooting at Luminescence. Malik and I were atThetahouse for the pre-Terror Tuesday party. Well, mainly just in his room.”
Sitting up, I force her to look at me. “What is it, Naomi? Did you two break up?” There’s no way. They’re perfect for each other.
“No. Did you finally wise up and ditch the dumbass yet?” Finally, she snaps a shrewd gaze at my face, and it helps me relax a little more.That’sthe girl I know.
What am I supposed to tell people? What excuse can I come up with for where I’ve been and what happened? “Well, I think I may have. He was supposed to drive me home, but we argued, and he dropped me in the middle of downtown.”
“Olivia, are you fucking serious? Why didn’t youcall me?! Malik and I would’ve come to pick you up?—”
“I needed to calm down. Was so angry. I turned off my phone, so I didn’t have to speak to him anyway.” The lie forms so easily, and she nods, already agreeing. Tension eases from my shoulders. Hunter treated me like an afterthought so often; she doesn’t question when I say he abandoned me.
Nims doesn’t hesitate. “I’m proud of you. But please don’t take him back tomorrow, er, today when he shows up here with a bunch of roses.”
