My Best Friend's Exorcism(45)

“Thanks,” she said automatically. She wanted to run, but Gretchen needed her. She packed her panic down tight. “Riley,” she said, “do you know if anyone was out here on Labor Day weekend? Like any guys partying in the woods?”

“Probably,” he said. “Why don’t you ask Margaret?”

“I should do that,” she said. Then, before he could react. “My mom’s waiting for me. Bye.”

She was moving before “bye” had even left her lips, walking as fast as she could, away from the buzzing junction box, away from Riley, around tree trunks and bushes and tangles of undergrowth. She started running when she emerged from the woods and saw the Dust Bunny. She fumbled for her keys, slid in, locked the doors, and slammed into gear, pushing the petal to the floor, flying for Red Top.

When she got home it was almost eight. Abby closed her bedroom door and jammed her pink blanket against the crack at the bottom to keep the sound from leaking out. The last thing she wanted was her mom to hear anything she was about to say. Then she called Glee. It was impossible for her brain to make small talk, so she started in right off the bat.

“Do you remember the night with the acid? When Gretchen got lost?” she asked. “Do you think Wallace was there?”

“Why?” Glee asked.

“Because I need to know,” Abby said. “Do you think it’s possible he was out in the woods?”

“How should I know?” Glee asked.

“Glee,” Abby said. “I have to tell you something and you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially not Margaret. Do you promise?”

“Totally,” Glee said, and Abby could hear the excitement in her voice.

“A boy jumped Gretchen,” Abby said. “Like, he raped her. When we were out at Margaret’s. When Gretchen was lost in the woods.”

A long silence followed.

“And I think it was Wallace,” Abby said.

A shorter silence and then Glee said, “Let me call you right back. My sister’s home.”

Five minutes later Mickey Mouse chirped “I’m Mickey!” Abby snatched the receiver out of his hand.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“Sorry,” Glee said. “My sister was being a total pig. Can you hear me okay? What were you saying about Wallace?”

Abby told Glee everything. She told her about Gretchen’s confession, Gretchen’s parents freaking out, driving to Wadmalaw when Margaret wasn’t there and finding the wine cooler bottles and the Dukes of Neon graffiti. It was a relief to get it all out, and Glee was a good listener. If Abby hadn’t been able to hear her breathing, she would have assumed Glee had hung up; she was so quiet, but that was Glee. Whenever you had a problem, you could count on her to focus.

Finally, Abby finished. Neither of them said anything for a minute.

“This is why she said those things about Wallace?” Glee asked.

“It’s what happens, right?” Abby said. “You have someone do that to you, and then you kind of go crazy. She’s not thinking right, Glee.”

“But do you really think Wallace did it?” Glee asked. “He told Margaret he’d never cheat on her.”

“I know,” Abby said. “But boys lie all the time. If Margaret believes Wallace, then she’s super naive. Wallace brags about other girls all the time.”

“That’s not nice,” Glee said.

“But he does,” Abby said. “You’ve heard him.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Glee said, and that’s when Abby should have known something was wrong.

“What are you going to do?” Glee continued.

“I have to tell someone,” Abby said. “I thought I’d start with Wallace. See if he admits it. If not, I’ll go to the police. And if they won’t listen to me, I’ll tell everyone at school.”

“What about Margaret?” Glee asked.

“I don’t know,” Abby said. “That’s the tricky part. Maybe I should tell her first?”

“No,” Margaret said. “I don’t think you should tell Margaret first.”

Abby almost dropped the phone. Her stomach and head hollowed out and her hands turned numb. Glee had her on three-way calling.

“Don’t you ever come near us again!” Margaret screamed. “You’re jealous of Wallace, and you want to fuck up everything that’s good in my life!”

Abby was trying to talk at the same time.

“Margaret!” she was yelling. “Margaret! Margaret! Margaret! You have to understand—”

“I don’t have to understand shit, you slut!”

“You have to talk to Gretchen!”

“Fuck you!” Margaret snarled, and then she was screaming directly into the mouthpiece; her voice was louder than Abby’s, blowing out the earpiece speaker. “Stay away from us! Stay the fuck away from us or I will fuck you up! You want to be pals with Gretchen—fine! You tell her your sick little lies. But if you look at us, if you talk to us, if you say anything to anyone near us, I will get my dad to sue the shit out of you!”

Margaret’s line went dead. Abby sat there, her ear ringing, and then realized that Glee was still on the line.

“Glee . . .” she said.