Ella's Twisted Senior Year(16)



“Don’t you worry about him,” she says, squeezing my shoulder as she leads me into the kitchen. “He’s been warned to be nice to you and besides, it’s been years since you broke his heart, kiddo. He’ll be fine.”

Wait. What?

Mrs. Poe opens the refrigerator. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sweet tea, if you have it.”

She grins and waves a manicured hand at me. “Of course I have it. It’s made with natural sweetener not sugar. I’ll get you a glass.”

Why does she think I broke her son’s heart? It must have gotten lost in translation from whatever Ethan told her when we quit hanging out. Maybe she’s confusing me with another girl but I’m not about to ask and bring it all out in the open again.

I sip my tea and Mrs. Poe explains that my parents will be staying in their pool house, which was converted into a one bedroom, one bath guest room a few years ago. I remember it as a room filled with pool floats and bathing suits, but I’m guessing it looks a lot better now that it’s been renovated.

I’ll be staying in their rec room instead of the old guest bedroom. Mrs. Poe shows me the guest room, which is now her office. She takes her mommy blog very seriously. There are awards on the walls and bookshelves filled with books and picture frames of her kids throughout the years. The left side of the room looks like a craft store and all of her supplies are ordered and labeled neatly. I catch a framed picture of Ethan and me on Halloween when we were five and he was dressed as the Tin Man while I was Dorothy.

I run my finger down the frame while Mrs. Poe talks on and on about her blog and how busy it’s been keeping her. Apparently she almost flew to New York City for a TV show but it didn’t work out.

The house phone rings and she jumps. “I have to get that,” she says, scurrying out of the room. “Show yourself to the rec room, sweetie. I’ve got an air mattress set up in there for you.”

Mrs. Poe’s office and the master bedroom are on the first floor of their house, and from what I remember, the rec room is the biggest room on the second floor. There’s a short hallway at the end of the stairs. To the right are Dakota and Ethan’s rooms, and to the left is the rec room which is twice the size of the other bedrooms. I spent so much time up there when I was a kid. Ethan used to have a massive TV and a foosball table up there.

My hand drags along the banister as I climb the stairs, noting that the carpet is new and the people in pictures on the wall have aged and changed over time.

When I reach the second floor, instinct makes me turn right. I don’t know why I do it, maybe morbid curiosity or maybe I’m just hoping to find a reason why Ethan has been nice to me lately.

My hands shake as I approach his bedroom. I glance behind me and then push open his door.

His twin bed has been upgrade to a queen size, the Star Wars sheets replaced with a dark blue comforter. He has football trophies on a shelf and a desk with a laptop and a collection of old iPods. In a way it’s exactly the same as it used to be, but it’s also different. There’s deodorant on the dresser next to a stack of T-shirts from his online company. I sit at his desk and spin around in the rolling chair. His room smells like cinnamon; like the copious amounts of Big Red gum he’s always chewing. I guess some things never change.

There’s a digital tablet next to his laptop and I peer at a sketchpad opened to a blank page. I pick it up and flip through the sketches, all rough drafts of designs for his shirts. It feels wrong going through his things, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

My heart aches for the best friend I used to have, but hatred burns deeper in my veins. How could he have done that to me? If he didn’t like me, he could have just told me. He didn’t have to get Corey to do it for him.

I put the sketchpad back exactly where I found it. The sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. My breath catches in my throat. Maybe it’s just Dakota. I think the junior high gets out of school around the same time we do. Please, please, just be Dakota. How will I explain being in here without looking like a total freak?

I go to stand, hoping to act like I simply took a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong room, but my legs won’t move. Fear keeps me glued to the chair and in the very next instant, it’s too late.

Kennedy Price appears in the doorway. Her mouth flies open and a cold stab of fear makes everything go blurry.





Chapter 10





“What the hell are you doing in my boyfriend’s bedroom?”

Huh? I look up from the staircase to find Kennedy’s hands balled into fists as she stands in the doorway of my bedroom. I jog up the rest of the stairs to see what’s going on. Kennedy had been ahead of me since Mom stopped me in the hallway to give me yet another warning to be nice to Ella. As if her five texts weren’t enough.

Ella’s face stares back at me as I look over Kennedy’s shoulder. She’s gone completely pale, her fingers still resting on my sketchpad. She stands and shoves my computer chair under the desk. “I got lost,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “Where’s the rec room?”

She tries to leave but Kennedy blocks her in the doorway.

“You didn’t answer my question, bitch. Why are you in Ethan’s room? Why are you even in his house?”

I take Kennedy’s arm and pull her into the hallway. I keep my voice as level as possible. “I can explain all of this but you can’t keep yelling. I don’t want my mom coming up here.”

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