Page 71 of Playing By Their Rules

She grabs a roll of toilet paper from her backpack and leaves the cabin to find a tree somewhere.

As soon as she’s outside, I hurry to the other side of the room and dump my whiskey out of an open window. Then I lunge for her backpack and yank open the front pocket, searching for spare keys. Nothing. I don’t have time to empty the whole pack, but I feel around inside of it, searching for the tell-tale shapes of keys. If I can get them, I could drive back tonight, get help for Mina.

The porch creaks, so I yank the zippers closed and return the pack to where it was. I lean back and make a show of “emptying” my cup down my throat, taking big, fake gulps.

“Whoa, slow down there, tiger,” Mina says.

I wince. That’s something I would’ve said. How many of her phrases, her quirks, came from me? How much of her style is mine? I remember how she got so annoyed, just recently, when I’d mixed up my clothing style to mess with Ethan and Chance.

Mina wants to be just like me, and she wants to be in control of it.

“Another?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says, pouring a healthy amount into my cup.

I don’t say anything about her joining me in drinking another, but sure enough, Mina’s desire to copy everything I do, down to what I eat and drink, works in my favor. She downs her own cup and adds more liquor to it.

Perfect.

This one I have to drink in order to keep her from suspecting anything. But she finishes hers as well, and when I hold my cup out for a third, she pours it and pours more for herself, too.

With the third cup, it’s easier to pretend to sip, and not actually drink, because Mina is absolutely smashed. It’s gotten dark outside, so Mina turns on our electric lantern. We sing our old favorite Church of Fortune songs, and talk about our grad program and what we think will happen after it. The whole interaction is not much different from how we used to be when we were in high school, tucked away from danger in this shitty, abandoned cabin.

When I say I want to get out of my jeans and into pajamas, Mina agrees, and we unfurl our sleeping bags and tuck ourselves in. I keep up a running commentary about guys in our program, ignoring the fact that I have Ethan and Chance in my life, because I think my relationship with them is partly what sparked Mina’s descent into madness.

Mina’s responses grow further and further between mine and finally, when I ask her if she still thinks about Josh Kyleson from our twelfth grade English class, she doesn’t answer.

Josh Kyleson’s “stunning blue eyes” had always been a sure bet to get Mina talking.

“Mina?” I whisper. “Mina. Wake up.”

She makes a mmmmfffff sound and rolls over.

“Mina, I have to pee, okay? I’ll be right back.” In fact, I decide to cover my tracks a little by writing her a note. I stand up, wincing at the pain in my wounded leg, then I hobble to the wall so I can tear off a piece of the old Lava Boys band poster. My mind whispers sacrilege as I tear the poster, but I’m sure the Lava Boys would understand about desperate times, desperate measures. I find a pen in my purse and write out Went to pee, BRB! and set the paper on top of my pillow.

No matter what time Mina wakes, she’ll think I’m off finding a tree to pee behind and she’ll give me a few extra minutes before coming to look for me.

It means I can’t take my backpack or my purse with me, but I think the ruse is worth it. I do take my phone, ID, and some cash from my purse.

“Mina, I have to take a piss,” I say loudly.

She doesn’t budge.

“I’ll be right back.” I turn off the electric lantern and the room is plunged into darkness. Breath held, I wait for my eyes to adjust. Soon I can make out the faint outlines of our sleeping bags. Then I inch toward the door, afraid she’s going to jump up at any second, thriller movie style.

There’s no movement, though, other than the soft rise and fall of her chest with her breathing. I’m in the clear.

This time I remember to skip the rotten board on the porch.

About five steps down the trail and I realize this is going to be a lot harder than it sounded in my head. My leg already aches fiercely, and if I set my weight on it in the wrong way, the pain is so sharp, I can’t breathe.

Suck it up, Maisie. Short-term pain. It’s more important to get help for myself, and for Mina, than it is to worry about my leg.

To preserve the battery, my phone has been off since before we arrived. I’m tempted to look at the time, but I don’t want to lose power entirely before I even have a chance to check for reception. For now, I’ll leave it off. I make a deal with myself as the trail disappears into grasses. Once I hit the main road, I’ll turn it on to check the time and see if I can get reception.

Progress slow, I walk and walk. I pull up grasses as I go, gathering a huge bundle in my arms. If there are snakes around here, well, they can’t be more dangerous than my foster sister.

At the road, I power on my phone and wait for any sign of reception. Nothing.

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