Page 16 of She Haunts Me Still
“It would appear that way.”
Mallory sighs. “What do you want, Ezra?”
“To help.”
“Help with what?” Her eyes narrow. “Andwhy?”
“Can’t a person just want to help someone?”
She shakes her head. “There’s always another reason.”
“Fine.” Ezra steps toward her, prompting her to take one back. “I went out on a limb for you after auditions, but this production isn’t just your matriculation show—it’s alsomysenior project. My grade is on the line, and you suddenly seem like a real wild card.”
Mallory squints again. “What do you mean, ‘went out on a limb’ for me?”
“Hendrix wanted to cast your roommate as Juliet and you as Nurse.” Ezra slips his hands into his pockets. “I convinced him it should be the other way around.”
She freezes. “Why would you do that?”
“ ’Cause I could tell Arden is the kind of girl who’s used to getting whatever she wants. You, on the other hand, are not.” His voice softens. “Made me think you deserve it more.”
“That’s not how it works!” Mallory exclaims, but his words automatically conjure images of Arden’s pristine bedroom in her parents’ town house. Her expensive haircuts. The designer clothes she’d wear to church. The way Mallory always felt like an imposter, infiltrating Arden’s picture-perfect life. She forces the feeling away. “If Arden gave a better audition, she should’ve gotten the part.”
“Youbothgave solid auditions. But Hendrix made it clear that if you fuck up, I’m just as fucked. I’m already on thin ice becauseyoulost your place a million times during the read-through. And before you can say you were tired or up late studying, let me save you the trouble.” Ezra examines her. “You’re scared of something.”
“I…” Mallory’s eyes swoop away from his heated stare. It’s making her feel like a caged mouse in a lab.
“If you tell me what it is,” he continues, “maybe I can fix it, so this production doesn’t go down in flames before it starts.”
A laugh bubbles from her throat. “Trust me. You can’t fixthis.”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Besides,” she barrels on, “I don’t evenknowyou. What makes you think I’ll tell you anything?”
He quiets at that. “Alright. Something about me, then. I’ve been getting rare and severe ocular migraines since I was a kid. First one happened in seventh-grade bio. All of a sudden, the worksheet I was doing? It disappeared. Everything turned white. And there was this stabbing pain right behind my eyes. Lost my shit in front of the whole class, spilled a beaker of chemicals on another kid. No one would talk to me for months.” He steps closer again, but she doesn’t counterback this time. “I know what it’s like to have things happen that you can’t explain. To have everyone look at you like you’re crazy.”
Mallory stares at him. “That’s different. A migraine has an explanation.”
“Not the kind I get,” Ezra replies. “What I’m trying to say is you’re not the only one who feels like they don’t belong.”
Her throat constricts at his words, the way they reach something soft and vulnerable inside her. A truth she’s spent years trying to avoid.
“I’ll trade you,” Ezra adds, and she swallows nervously.
“Trade?”
“A secret. One for one.”
Mallory hesitates, pulse racing at the idea of setting any secrets free. She’s never talked about her past with anyone, not even Arden. When they first met, Mallory said her mother had died from an illness. When the world shows you at a young age you won’t be believed if you tell the truth, the consequence in the future is you keep things locked inside.
Any time Mallory eventhoughtabout letting Arden in, she’d find herself staring at the gold cross nestled at Arden’s collarbone. A permanent reminder of the countless hours Arden spent in church, whispering away every trace of sin. What would Arden think if she knew there was something evil dwelling in her best friend’s past? Something that couldn’t be spirited away with a prayer or a splash of holy water?
As more time passed without her telling Arden the real story, it became harder and harder to confess. To explain her mother’s passing now would mean admitting she’d lied every day for the past six years. A death knell in a friendship based on them against the world.
“What do you think?” Ezra holds out a hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Thenois on the tip of her tongue. But for a second, she contemplates how it would feel to say the words out loud. If sharing her worst secrets with a stranger would hurt less than saying them to a friend whose love she could so easily lose.
