Page 99 of Caged
A hand touches mine, and I jolt. I had completely forgotten that I’m standing under a ledge with another fucking person!
“It’s okay,” she says in a whisper that’s barely audible. “They won’t find us here, but we have to be silent. They will look for several hours.”
I turn my head toward the voice of my savior, expecting to see the face of a woodland fairy, the kind I read about when I was a child.
The blue hue from the moon traces her prominent cheekbones, kissing the full curves of her lips, and I debate whether I actually did fall to my death.
“Are you real?” I silently mouth back.
A quivering smile spreads across her face, and I can almost make out the ocean blue of her eyes, twinkling like the waves of the sea as they catch the moonlight.
Tears fall from her eyes as she nods, squeezing my hand.
I thread my fingers through hers, squeezing tighter, until I can feel the recurring thump of my friend’s pulse.
The world has lost its mind. Nothing makes sense. Nothing but this. Staring out at the night’s sky, hand in hand, with my best friend.
45
GABI
Present Day,
Dornell University
Monroe silently points at a silver Audi sedan parked along the side of the street. For all I know, it could be two a.m. or it could be five a.m. Each time I asked Monroe if it was safe to move, she shook her head. Even though Jace can’t call or text me because I’ve blocked him, I was too paranoid to check my phone.
But the most difficult part of the last few hours, by far, has been not being able to ask my best friend, who has been missing for the last five months, where the fuck she’s been.
“Put this hat on,” Monroe instructs after we both shut our respective car doors. I secure the red Dornell baseball cap in place. My long, dark brown hair is already pulled into a tight bun at the nape of my neck, similar to how Monroe has her blonde tresses styled to look as incognito as possible.
“Okay, first of all, what the fuck?” I begin as she starts the car, glancing into each mirror to check for headlights,flashlights, really lights of any kind. “And why does your car smell like beef jerky?”
“Because I have twenty-some-odd bags of beef jerky in this car. Want some?” she responds, lifting a can of Diet Dr. Pepper to her mouth as if getting hunted by Sigma bloodhounds and having an obscene amount of dehydrated cow in your car is just a normal Wednesday for Monroe.
I rub my temples, listening to Monroe aggressively gulp down the drink.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I admit.
“So don’t. Let’s save it for later,” she responds.
I gape at her. “Save it forlater? Monroe. You’ve been MIA for months and months. The last message you sent to our group chat was in March, and it was only to like a photo. Are you even still enrolled as a student at Dornell? Fine, you know what? Let’s start with an easy one. Where were you?”
“My Aunt Nikki’s.”
“In Queens?”
“Yes,” she confirms.
“This entire time, you’ve been inQueens?”
“More or less,” she shrugs. “I did help my step-cousins with a few odd jobs here and there around the tristate area, but for the most part, yes. I’ve been in Queens.”
I let this knowledge settle, part of me furious to know she’s only been a handful of hours away, chilling at her aunt’s house, and not locked in a cage in Sigma’s basement like I had thought.
“I would have visited, you know,” I add. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried I’ve been?”
“I know, but I couldn’t risk it,” she responds.
