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I tell myself I just want to fuck with Shiloh as I grab a nearby tray loaded with empty glasses from an abandoned table. At best, I might rid her of that supportive presence that’s ready to catch her should she fall on her drunk ass. At worst, maybe I’ll cockblock her shot at getting lucky with the one pathetic lowlife in this place showing her any interest.
I stalk toward the bar after them, repeating my reasons in my head. I’m only picturing ripping that hand from her body by whatever means necessary because I want to sap her of whatever enjoyment she might be getting from the touch.
Lo and behold, my plan works perfectly. One clumsy knock of the tray and I send a full pint toppling into the guy’s lap. Shame I didn’t manage to catch Shiloh in the crossfire, but those perfectly polished Doc Martens will be nice and sticky come morning. I mumble a half-hearted apology and make my escape, careful to disguise my voice in case she should recognize it.
Not that there was much danger of Shiloh making that deduction. She’s absolutely wasted, her cheeks flushed an almost luminous pink and her sweaty hair damp and curling at her temples. It’s hard not to imagine that she might look a similar state after a long and thorough fucking.
I huff an exasperated sigh, banishing the thought before it’s burned into the inside of my eyelids. Forcing my way through the packed space, I eventually stop at a safe distance to watch the aftermath of my unwelcome interruption. My satisfied smirk is wider than ever when I see Shiloh’sfriendturn a deep shade of scarlet while she laughs at his sodden pants.
Good. Serves him right for touching what doesn’t belong to him.
The victory turns out to be better than I expected when my target ultimately chooses to leave the bar altogether.Unfortunately, Shiloh’s expression doesn’t betray even the slightest scrap of disappointment as she gives him a hasty hug and waves him out the door. It seems she doesn’t care at all that her chances of an easy hookup have gone up in smoke, though the look on the guy’s face once he’s turned his back to her tells me that’s exactly what he’d been hoping for.
My deep frown returns as I watch her merrily hand out new drinks to her friends before stumbling away from the bar like a newborn giraffe. For a split second I tense, initially assuming she’s about to follow that douchebag out the door. My rigid spine relaxes as she veers towards the restrooms instead, bouncing off several disgruntled patrons as she fails to move her feet in a straight line.
Of course, this seems like a fine opportunity to stride after her, now that she’s finally alone. I don’t even know what I intend to say to her as I trace her footsteps through the crowd. Tell her I heard all the vicious shit she was spewing about me when she got here? Mock her for being so embarrassingly drunk?
Fuck knows.
I just want to smack that dazed smile off her face and remind her of the hundred and one reasons I had to be angry at the world when we were kids.
But, as she throws out her hand to catch herself on the wall before she tips sideways once again, I realize that embarking on my own tirade right now would be a total waste of breath. She’s too far gone to fuck with tonight. What would be the point in toying with prey that’s barely conscious to start with?
Before I get close enough for her to notice she has company outside the restrooms, I spin on my heel and head straight for the door.
As soon as I make it halfway down the street, I rip the stupid mask off my face and take a deep breath of blissfully cool air.One more second trapped inside that rubbery sack of sweat and I may have clawed my own skin off just to feel freedom again.
“What the hell am I doing?” I grunt, running my hand over my face.
I’m more than ready to march straight to my car and break every speed limit until I’m back in my own State, but something stops me in my tracks. This pulsing adrenaline in my veins has made me feel more alive today than I have all year. I couldn’t say if it’s the thrill of being so close to my little Shy Girl without her having any idea who haunts her every step, or maybe the rush of power I felt crushing her hopes so easily this afternoon. Whatever it is, the prospect of leaving it behind just to go back to the same old grind of my life under my father’s boot has my fingers curling into fists by my sides.
Iwantto stay.
Besides, I promised myself a break. And I’ve barely had any fun here at all. What vacation is complete without a few leisurely activities?
The possibilities flit through my head one by one as my feet carry me back to my car. Another half hour or so passes in a haze of barely contained impatience. I watch Shiloh’s house from where I lean in the shadows, until she finally appears, weaving unsteadily down the sidewalk. My lip curls in disgust at her childish antics, but I can’t say I’m surprised. If I lived in this godforsaken corner of wasteland, I too would have to drink myself into a stupor just to make it through the day. I keep to the darkest parts of the street as I edge closer to her front yard, all the while she’s fumbling with her keys as if her fingers are made of butter.
With a triumphant“Aha!”she finally manages to unlock the door, not bothering to switch on a light before stumbling inside. I linger behind a tree until I see a window illuminated on the upper floor, and then I make my approach.
Just as I suspected, she left the door unlocked. Whether she’s too drunk to have remembered basic home security, or whether she thinks Avalon is a safe enough town to not have to consider these things, I don’t care. All that matters is how infinitely easier it makes it for me to slip inside unnoticed.
My eyes take only seconds to adjust to the gloom before I’m moving through the hallway and deeper into the house I’ve never been invited to. It’s quaint.Cozy, even, in a way that makes my skin crawl. Mismatched furniture crowds the tiny living room, and every available surface is crammed with piles of books, knick-knacks, and framed photos. My eyes are immediately drawn to one in particular–our parents, my mom and her dad, smiling ear to ear while their arms are curled around the shoulders of two young children.
Replacements,I think to myself bitterly. Another son and daughter they chose to have once Shiloh and I were both out of the house. No doubt, because the children they already had were unpleasant reminders of the lives they hated so much before they fell into bed with each other.
The sound of running water snaps me back to the present, and I forget all about the sour resentment churning in my stomach. It seems Shiloh has managed to drag herself into the shower, leaving me free to investigate upstairs without being discovered.
Grateful for the distraction, I sneak up the stairs, following the racket Shiloh is making as she warbles some off-key version of a Fleetwood Mac tune. There’s only one door off the landing, telling me that Shiloh’s bathroom is an ensuite.
Perfect. That means I can slip into her bedroom without worrying that she’ll exit the bathroom behind me and cut off my escape.
Not that I’m not very adept at hiding when I need to.
I push open the door slowly, greeted by a thin mist hanging in the air as steam billows from a cracked door in the wall to my left. Shiloh’s ear-splitting concert of one continues behind that door, a convenient indicator that it’s safe to continue exploring. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Some insight into her life, perhaps. I can’t figure out how best to fuck with her when I no longer know anything about her. Eleven years of separation has turned us into complete strangers.
If my brief, for-fun haunting of Avalon is going to have a lingering effect on Shy Girl, I need to get inside her mind.
My fingers trail across her dresser, brushing over more books and cluttered possessions as I scan the room. We clearly couldn’t be more opposite, she and I. My apartment back in the city is an ode to stark minimalism, as crowded rooms make me feel suffocated.
