Page 88 of Ominous: Part 1
Eden
He drives aggressively,made more noticeable by the fact there are no other cars on the road. He accelerates through yellow lights, passes underneath a red one I’m sure the traffic cameras will send him a ticket for, and he goes well over the limit. So fast, I don’t want to try and read his speedometer as I squeeze my thighs with my hands in his passenger seat.
“Come Here”by Dominic Fike plays through the speakers, the windows down, a late summer breeze ripping through the strands of my hair that’ve come loose from my braid. I answered Mom’s call and told her I had a ride from Eli.
All she said was,“Be safe, Eden.”
Either way, it’s good I mentioned Eli, since the first thing he asks me in the car is, “Are you still good for Friday?” He doesn’t look at me, and I settle on staring at his hand as he shifts gears while we come to a stoplight he decides to obey.
I loop my hair behind my ears, thinking of asking Mom to let me spend the day with a boy she hasn’t met yet. But I’m eighteen, I remind myself. I have a car. I don’t work at the gym that day. I should be able to do whatever I want.
“Yes,” I answer his question. I’ll make it work. I lean my head back against his seat as the light turns green and he takes off, engine revving. I marvel over the fact I slapped him, and he seemed to like it. It makes me feel a little high. So does the faint tingle from his lips on mine. It’s really hard to stop touching my fingers to my mouth.
“Tell me about the police.” I say it quietly, so quiet I’m not sure he heard me, except for the fact I see him spare a single glance my way.
I expect he won’t answer. I know the kiss was a ruse, but then again, I think of how dazed he looked afterward. Like it had an effect on him too; just like me, or at least, close enough.
Pride swells in my chest, thinking of it, imagining having power over him. I link my fingers together in my lap and turn my head to watch the darkness flying by as I hide my smile.
“You know all about Winslet, since you wandered away from me at the party, huh?”
My smile falters. I don’t trust myself to look at him. Pinpricks of unease run across my shoulder blades as I sit in his passenger seat.
I think of the missing posters, edges curled.Dominic’s sister.
In my head, Eli’s words from the second night he took me home.“A girl I used to fuck.”
My mouth feels like it’s full of sand, and I can think of nothing to say, but mercifully, maybe, Eli keeps talking.
“They had a few questions about her.”
I wait for the rest of that statement. For him to explain why it has nothing to do with him, but why they thought it did.
Nothing comes.
Just music, wind, the purr of his car. We’re getting closer to my house, and further from any reasonable explanation. I have more questions than before, but I can’t bring myself to face him.
I clear my throat, running my tongue over my lips. “Why?”
A beat of silence. Then, “I fucked her, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I turn my head to look at him.
He turns onto the second-to-last road to my house. “So jealous,” he whispers. “It turns me on.”
“Eli.” I snap his name, not giving into his distractions. “Why were they questioning you—”
He laughs abruptly, cutting me off. I rarely hear his laugh, but this is a sound I don’t want to experience again. It’s cold and clipped, and the look he gives me as he comes to a stop sign isn’t any better. His lip curls as he stares at me, like he’s disgusted, and I resist the urge to squirm in my seat, reminding myself I didn’t do anything wrong.
“Let me guess,” he says, and I’m surprised at the venom in his words. “You think I had something to do with it?”
“I never said that.” I feel my blood pressure rising, and I long for my medicine, in the bag at my feet, but I don’t move, watching Eli, refusing to avert my gaze. “But why don’tyoutellme. Did youhave something to do with it?”
His eyes narrow into emerald slits, the shadows cast on his face by the dash lights rendering him an eerie, almost mannequin-like expression. “You actually think I’m capable of murder?”
The answer is so obvious, I don’t understand why he asked.Of course you are.Isn’t everyone if the timing is right? The emotions? The circumstances?
But I don’t say that. Because I suddenly realize… neither he nor I ever said anything about homicide.
