Page 72 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“Uh huh, sure it wasn’t,” she replied with a sly smile. “So, spill it! What did Mr. Mystery Man have to say for himself?”

“I mean, not a lot. He wouldn’t tell me his name.”

“No shit.” She rolled her eyes. “Like he’s gonna just come out and say it.” Her voice took on a mocking tone. “Here ya go, beautiful. Here’s all my deets, go ahead and take ‘em to the police station.”

I sighed, crossing my arms in front of my chest and glowering at her. My cheeks still burned. What could I say to defend myself? Not much.

“So, what did you talk about?”

“Well,” I said bashfully. How much did I tell her exactly? “I asked him if I knew him, and he said I did. I asked him why he didn’t just tell me who he was. He said people would talk, and he didn’t want that.”

“And theeeenn?” she said suggestively, a perverted smile folding her lips.

“Shut up, you’re gonna make me puke!” I spat at her and she cackled like a maniac.

I shook my head, trying to push away the mortifying memories of last night’s conversation. It was all too much for me to process at once, especially with Amelia teasing me relentlessly.

“I asked him what he was gonna do to me…” I admitted finally, and Amelia’s eyes grew even wider.

“And?”

“And then he told me to call him daddy and take off my panties and show him what I was doing with my hands because he could see me through the camera in my closet.”

I spat out the words as fast as I could, hoping maybe she couldn’t decipher them. Unfortunately, she did. Amelia’s eyes widened in horror as my words sank in, her playful expression replaced by one of shock and concern.

“He saidwhat?!”

“Yeah,” I muttered, biting back a grin. This should not be funny to me, yet I could feel the laughter crawling up my throat. “And so I said ‘make me’ and he said…some things… and I said no, and he said ‘Don’t tempt me, little girl’ and I said CLICK!”

I mimicked the sound of a phone call ending. Of course, I left out the fact that I hid under my blanket like a terrified toddler afterward. That part wasn’t important, right?

“You’re taunting him!”

“I am not!”

“You are!” Amelia shrieked, her voice so high pitched I’m surprised it didn’t break the windows. “You’re having fun! Like some kind of twisted game!”

“I am not!”

“So, what’d you do with the camera?”

I clammed up. Shit.

“You left it there?! You’re INTO this!”

“M’not,” I whined, standing up off the couch and retreating into the kitchen. Of course, Amelia followed me.

“Don’t walk away from me, Vanessa!” Amelia’s voice echoed in the small kitchen as I ripped an egg out of the carton and attempted to crack it—anything to distract me from this conversation. But Amelia was relentless, her curiosity piqued by the strange and unsettling situation that had become my life. I managed to get a lot of egg on my hand, and some in the pan, but most of it ended up on the stove. I grabbed another one.

“What are you going to do about it?” she demanded, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. I could feel her eyes boring into my back, searching for any sign of weakness or hesitation.

I finally turned to look at her, a mix of frustration and fear bubbling up inside me.

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what to do. This whole thing is freaking me out!”

Amelia’s expression softened slightly at the raw honesty in my voice.

I cracked another egg. This one ended up in the pan, but so did a huge chunk of the shell. I grumbled and grabbed a spatula, trying to fish it out.

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