Page 108 of Horror and Chill
A trio walks in; a woman with two men, and my stomach drops. They are adults now, but they were kids once. I recognize them from school—the brothers who used to corner me, grabbing and grunting about “Untouched Jesus pussy.” Small-town rumors had carried their names everywhere, and now they’re right here. My hand freezes mid-bite, the slice trembling.
“Agatha. Is that you?” the woman asks.
My stomach sours.This can’t be fucking happening.
45
Agatha
I look upand pull a smile onto my face that feels borrowed. “Yeah, it’s me,” I say, trying to sound surprised in the way people do when they run into ghosts from a life they left on purpose.
“Oh my goodness, I have not seen you since senior year. How are you?” she asks, all high-pitched and beaming.
“I’m good,” I answer, keeping my voice even.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asks, like she expects nostalgia to glue us together.
“I recognize you, but no, I don’t recall your name. Sorry,” I say.
She shouldn’t feel bad. I don't remember most of the kids’ names I went to school with. Barely remember the kids that were at church: Adam, Kyle, Catherine, Delores. They were at church every time I was, and they made sure I knew how much they despised me for not conforming. No one else sticks out in my mind.
“Christine,” she supplies, like a librarian handing me back a lost book. “Mary Christine, but I go by Christine now. We had APEnglish and Psychology together. My parents and I joined the church our junior year.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “Nice to see you again. We were just leaving.” I push Evander with my hip, and he stands.
“Did you move back to town?” she asks.
“No, not really, I am just passing through,” I say.
“A shame. How are your parents?” she asks, and there it is, the question they all ask.
“Couldn’t tell you,” I reply flatly. “I haven’t talked to them since graduation.” I check Evander with my eyes. “I’m going to hit the ladies’ room. Meet you at the car, okay?”
Turning back to her, my expression ends any further questions. “Nice to see you, Christine. Have a good dinner,” I add, and then I move away.
The bathroom is a small square that smells of cheap hand soap and is covered in white tile from floor to ceiling. I lean on the sink and let my forehead drop to the cool porcelain for a breath. Just my luck to run into someone from the church here, but she doesn’t look like she still kneels in the pews. If she were still deep in those circles, she wouldn’t have come over without being told to. That little fact makes me breathe faster.
I splash water on my face and pat myself dry, tug my shirt down over my hips, and step back toward the hallway to rejoin the world. When I enter the main room, I see Christine talking with an older man I recognize from my father’s circle of friends. He nods at her and she looks from him to the doorway where I’m at and back. The tilt of her head says she’s traded gossip for praise, and everything in me goes cold. She’s telling him I’m here.
He turns and starts across the floor toward the bathrooms. I move without thinking, ducking into the short passage by the men’s room and pushing through the exit into the alley behind the building. The alley smells like grease and the last day’scigarette smoke. I can already see the mouth of the alley where the parking lot and freedom waits.
Two of Christine’s men enter the alley opposite of me and stride toward me with purpose. Both with hair shiny with oil and stupid faces that hold crooked, rotten grins. One of them calls out before they get close enough for me to do anything but brace myself.
“You’re that slut from the woods video.” He grimaces.
Before I can answer, a splash hits my chest. Cold and sticky coffee soaks through the cotton, making it cling to my skin.
“You’re the whore with the devil’s props,” the other one says with a sneer before he spits on me.
I wipe at my face and flick my hands like I’m trying to shake them dry.
“That’s the only way you’d get your fluids near me, asshole.”
They step closer, and the smaller one smiles. “Fucking freak.”
I shove past them. My shoulder bangs the first one, and my knees pump hard. My shoes slap the pavement fast, and I break into the open, running through the parking lot to the car.
I jump into the backseat and slam the door shut. Corwin is beside me with his hand already on my shoulder like he knows what happened and is giving me a second to exist. Garron is behind the wheel, Evander riding shotgun.
