Jillian Dodd - Hate Me

“Ace’s eyes about bugged out of his head when he saw you.”

“You know what? I don’t even care.”

“Good for you. Jake is awesome. I mean, as long as you know he’s not looking for anything serious.”

She nods. “I think I’d prefer it that way.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Jake asks, sneaking up behind us.

I start to say no, but Annie surprises me when she smiles and coos, “Busted. Should we find some seats? It’s about to start.”

“Front row or back?” Jake asks suggestively.

“Definitely back,” she replies, giving him a coy smile.

“When did you become such a flirt?” I whisper to her, as Jake grabs her hand and drags her away.

Once he gets her situated, Jake comes back over to get some drinks and popcorn.

“Jake,” I whisper. “I know we wanted to piss Ace off, but . . .”

He puts his hand on top of my head and messes up my hair. “Don’t worry, Monroe. My kissing her has nothing to do with Ace. She looks smoking hot. I always thought she was cute. She just, she seems more confident now. It’s sexy.”

Aiden, who was talking to Maggie and Logan, grabs a bag of popcorn with one hand and my hand in the other. “Maggie and Logan saved us seats.”

We sit down and watch the show.

The guys are doing a lot of hooting—Dallas, in particular, who is sitting between a couple of the newly-single cheerleaders. Ace is sitting next to Chelsea, but he’s not touching her, and he keeps looking back at Annie and Jake, who are cuddling.

Aiden is eating popcorn, enjoying the show, but he’s not cheering. Instead, one of his fingers is running along the top edge of my yoga pants. Warmth and desire flow from his fingertip to my soul.

I look at him and smile.

“Your eyes look purple tonight,” he whispers. I lean my head on his shoulder, my thoughts taking me to happy far-away places.

“This is it!” Annie says excitedly. “The extended trailer for Abby Johnston’s new movie. I heard it’s really hot.”

I sit up straight, my eyes glued to the screen.

The trailer starts out with Mom sitting at a desk writing To Maddie, With Love in a journal. The music moves as painfully slow as she writes. Mom looks beautiful as a brunette, but a little ragged. The slow music is replaced by a techno beat and images flash quickly across the screen. Maddie cutting her wrists. A hospital. Drugs on a kitchen table. Bottles of alcohol. Then back to her writing again. Same desk. Same stress on her face. Then techno. Faster images. Happy Maddie. Dancing. Kissing a man in a dark alley. A flash of Maddie’s body. Lips. Hips. Sex in the alley. A bed. Nakedness. Sheets. Smiles. The music changes as we watch Maddie writing again. Then more flashes. Drugs. A club. Dancing on a bar. More men. More sex. The flash of money. Then back to Maddie.

The images are powerful, emotional.

Even though I don’t want to see her naked, I want to see this movie. I want to know how Maddie went from a seemingly happy party girl to trying to commit suicide.

“That looks really good,” Aiden leans over and whispers to me. “We should go see it.”

In front of me, Dallas say, “All I know is Abby Johnston looks fucking hot. We definitely need to go see that one.”

“I’m not sure if I’d like it,” I say to Aiden.

Dallas’ response to the trailer upsets me, and I can see why it upset Vincent. Maddie looks like she lived a very wild life. And I know she did. Mom let me read the script last year when she was considering the role. Reading about it was interesting. Seeing it played out before my eyes is another thing altogether. And I know that the movie, though poignant, is also supposed to be disturbing.

A little bit sick and twisted.

And, right now, I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach. Not because I’m not proud of my mom, but because I know it’s images like these that set Vincent off.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t hear the commotion until Aiden startles me by quickly standing up.

I turn around to see Ace standing in front of Annie and Jake, his hands in fists and his body tense.

Whitney quickly steps in between them. “Ace, I think maybe you should leave.”

“I’m not leaving unless Annie comes with me.”

“Aaace!” Chelsea whines. She puts her hand on his back.

He shrugs it off and says, “Get away from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie says. Her jaw is set, but her eyes are filling with tears.

Jake stands up. He’s taller than Ace, but not as broad.

“She’s not going with you. Do as Whitney asked. Leave, and take her with you,” he says with a sneer toward Chelsea. “We’re all just here to have some fun .”

The way Jake says fun makes it sound like he and Annie are hooking up and it sets Ace off. He starts to throw a punch at Jake, but Aiden and Riley are there in a flash. They have Ace’s arm pinned behind his back and are out the door in a few seconds.

Once the door slams shut behind them, Whitney says, “It’s not a party ’til someone gets in a fight. Enjoy the rest of the show.” Then she holds up a few Shark logo flasks and asks, “Anyone care to join me?”

Aiden grabs bottles of water for us and sits back down.

“You handled that well,” I tell him.

“I have something else I need to handle,” he says with a sly grin.

“What’s that?”

He picks up my purse. “Is this the bag you took to St. Croix?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He starts digging through it and pulls out the glow-in-the-dark moon. “I’m putting this back up. Where do you want it? My ceiling or yours?”

“Where do you want it?” I ask. The moon and my stupid wish are kinda the last things on my mind right now.

“Well, I wanted it on your ceiling, that’s why I put it there. But I don’t want it to mock you.” He’s trying to suppress a smirk.

“I don’t know,” I say. Part of me wants to see it on my ceiling every night and part of me wishes I never had to look at the moon again.

Aiden holds up a finger. “Wait. I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“I know the perfect place for it. I’ll show you later, okay?”

“Okay. Um, I’m not feeling great, Aiden. I think I’m going to head back to my room.”

He gets up, looking concerned, and says, “I’ll walk you.”

When I’m alone in my room, I grab my laptop and watch the movie trailer again and again.

Watching it makes me feel nauseous.

It’s way worse than I ever imagined. And I know without a doubt that I have to do something about Vincent.

And fast.

I text Garrett.

Me: I saw the extended trailer.

Garrett: Me too.

Me: Are you in Vancouver with my mom?

Garrett: Yes. And no one knows this, but we’ve moved up our timeline. We’re not waiting until Thursday. We’re leaving now.

Me: You’re going with them?

Garrett: Yes, I’m one of many who are.

Me: Thank you.

An old map.

12:30am

Dallas: Most everyone took Whitney up on her offer, got drunk, and went to bed. You up for a little adventure with Riley and me?

Me: Yes.

I throw on some warm clothes and ease quietly out the window.

Dallas and Riley are waiting for me at the clearing.

“It’s cold. Are you sure we want to do this?”

“There is one other place we could go,” Dallas says.

“Where?”

“You know how the chapel is always left open?”

“I have to draw the line at smoking in church.”

“God made weed, you know.”

“I know, but . . .”

“Cool your panties,” Riley says. “It’s not just the chapel that’s open. There’s also the social center in the basement, and we think there’s some kind of special room there.”