Grown(42)

“Yeah, so am I,” I mumble.

“Well, yeah, duh,” she giggles. Even her voice sounds young.

I make more small talk. About books, hair, clothes, comparing the songs we love to sing.

“Oh, I know that one,” I say and slip in the question. “Think it came out the year we were born, right?”

She tells me the year and I do the math in my head quick.

“You’re fifteen,” I gasp.

Amber’s face falls, eyes darkening. We stare at each other for a brief moment before she jumps to her feet, closing the door behind her.

Today, Korey’s allowed us to come to a listening session in his studio, swimming in baggy sweats. Plenty to drink, so I drink until I’m no longer myself, only longing for the pieces of myself that are left.

“That lean got Enchanted leaning,” someone jokes.

The room ripples with laughter. I spot Richie in the bunch. Amber sits in the opposite room, far from me, far from the memory of who she used to be too.

My mouth waters for more purple drink but Korey slips the cup out of my hand and whispers in my ear.

“Think you had enough. Go to your room.”

No sense in arguing. It’ll only end in pain for me.

Ignoring the laugher at my back, I drift out of the studio, up to the first floor, craving my bed but craving food just as much. With everyone downstairs, maybe I can sneak some leftover pasta.

I tiptoe into the kitchen, spotting the camera, aimed right at the fridge.

Damn.

Abandoning hope, I spin around and run right into his chest.

Derrick.

“Shit,” I shudder.

“Hey. You OK?” he says, and I don’t remember him being so tall . . . or handsome.

Out of practice more than instinct, I divert my eyes to the floor. “Yeah. But . . . um, I have to go.”

The room tilts to the left and I stumble. Derrick catches me. “Whoa, hold up.”

“Stop it. Don’t touch me!”

I backpedal, grabbing hold of the counter. Or at least I thought I grabbed the counter. Someone moved it, and I flop onto the kitchen tile.

Within seconds, Derrick is by my side.

“I’m fine,” I slur, swatting away hands that seem to be coming from every direction.

“No. You’re not,” he says, then whispers, “Enchanted. I know you’re not eighteen.”

The room stops spinning long enough for me to look at him. “What?”

“You’re seventeen. Your birthday is not for a few weeks. April eighteenth, right?”

My mouth goes dry. “How did you . . .”

“A friend of mine from Brooklyn Will and Willow knows your chapter brother Creighton.”

Creighton. The name makes me want to vomit.

“Him, of course,” I snap, shoving his chest.

“Wait, Enchanted. I hollered at peeps from your chapter. They all worried about you. They’ve been trying to get in touch with you, ever since that shit went down with your dad.”

“My dad?”

“Yeah. He came down to try and get you, but Korey’s boys roughed him up.” He pauses. “You didn’t know about that?”

My heart is a drum in my ear, drowning out Korey’s music thumping around us.

“No,” I moan, running a tongue across my dry lips. “Just leave me alone.”

Derrick looks over his shoulder, then pulls me to my feet.

“Listen, you have to get out of here. Korey, he’s . . . a sick dude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t—”

“There were others, Enchanted.”

“Other what?”

“Other suits and settlements. Candy isn’t the first one. There were other girls. All fifteen and sixteen and so on. One girl even tried to kill herself after dealing with Korey.”

I sway with the spinning room.

“Other girls are coming forward. And everything they saying . . . look, you have to get out of here. Pack a bag or don’t, but just go. Dude is dangerous.”

My knees give in again and I lean against the counter. “No. No . . . I can’t . . .”

“Here, take my phone number. Call me and I’ll . . .”

Without shoes, his steps are soundless. That’s why I didn’t hear him coming. But the moment I see him, my stomach sinks, breath catching.

Derrick turns, remaining stoic, positioning himself in front of me.

“What’s up, Korey. My bad. Got lost and started talking with my FRIEND, Enchanted.”

Korey looks straight at me, as if Derrick didn’t exist, eyes speaking of my near future. A grim and painful one.

“Go to your room. I’ll deal with you later.”





Chapter 55


Run




Watching the sun peek over the trees, tears pool in my eyes. Five a.m. Dawn. My purple drink is empty. I haven’t slept. Haven’t even sat down. I just stood in the middle of my room . . . waiting. Waiting for Korey to come “deal” with me like he said. Dread ties several knots around my throat. I suck in air, wheezing, trying not to imagine the pain.

Run.

The voice is so loud, so familiar and crystal clear that I spin around to see who’s in the room with me.