My head snapped to the sound of a door opening downstairs. Fuck. A woman's laugh echoed through the house and carried itself to my ears.
Her tone was disgustingly flirty. “Shh. My daughter is probably asleep. We need to be quiet.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Don’t get this twisted. I didn’t really care if Madeline’s mom saw me in their house or not. I just didn’t want to see her. If you thought Madeline’s face pissed me off, what do you think her mother’s did?
So, instead of plunging myself into an even deeper pool of hate, I slipped into the room right beside Madeline’s and shut the door quietly. It only took a few seconds to realize I was in Madeline’s bathroom and another few after that for two voices to float on by. I rested on top of the vanity quietly, eyeing all the makeup splayed on the counter as I weighed my options and argued with myself about whether or not I should leave. I picked up one of her lipsticks and twirled it around in my hand, snickering at the name on the bottom: Pretty Liar. How fitting. I set the lipstick back down and continued glancing at the door opposite of the one I came through. Did that lead to Madeline’s room?
A little wickedness seeped into my blood as I hopped to the floor and walked over to the other door. I ignored my pleas to go home as I opened it quickly, prepared to scare the hell out of her with the menacing grin on my face, but I wavered for a moment when I saw her lying on her bed.
The fancy, glittering chandelier above her was glowing brightly, as was a small light on the edge of her desk. In the far corner of her room, there was a standing lamp that was on too.
Strange.
I wasn’t sure of my next move, but I found myself walking over to her pink computer chair and relaxing back in it, crossing my ankles in front of me. My gaze danced around the room as I took in her decor, stunned with confusion.
This was nothing like her.
Madeline was bold and bitchy. A little dark and sadistic at times. But her room was the complete opposite. My arms fell to my thighs as I looked up at the sparkling chandelier again, and then over to the sheer white curtains draped to the floor. Her walls were light pink, and her fluffy carpet was a shade away from white. A few teddy bears were propped up against a fur rug in the corner of her room, near the standing lamp, and there were stacks and stacks of books all over the place. A few of them were e
ven flipped open. Everything, and I meant everything, in her bedroom was soft and feminine. Almost angelic. It was like seeing something forbidden. Like a villain stepping into a fairytale ending. It felt wrong to see her in a space that was probably more her than she ever wanted people to see.
I swiveled the computer chair around, grabbing a book off her desk that was stuck on page 127, and turned back to face her bed.
My eyes were just beginning to scan the pages, realizing it was some romance book, when I heard a whimpering noise. Oh perfect. She was waking up. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she found me sitting here, all nonchalantly.
Another moan came from her, and I couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling up in my throat. Was she having a wet dream? I would never, ever let her live this down. It was more ammunition for torture. This was fucking gold.
I began to grin as I continued watching her, but my smile slowly crumbled as Madeline started to kick her legs, whimpering even louder. Her blonde hair was tangled around her face, little crinkles appearing around her clenched eyes.
The book fell to my lap as I sat up a little taller. My brow furrowed as her head snapped back and forth. Her voice sounded far away, pained even, when she mumbled, “No. No.”
Something about the way she said the word caused my fists to clench. My chest felt like it was caving in on itself, almost making it hard to breathe.
“No. Don’t touch me!”
The chair creaked as I went to stand so I could wake her. This was wrong. This was no longer fun.
Was she crying?
Madeline’s legs started to kick back and forth. She was clearly trying to get away from something. My mind was going a million miles a second. I could tell myself I hated her. I could remind myself of every last mean thing she’d ever done. But there was nothing that was going to make my heart stop beating like I was seconds from falling off a cliff. I’ll admit, I enjoyed bullying her a little. I liked seeing her face fall when I reminded her how much I hated her.
But I wasn’t a sick fuck.
I wasn’t enjoying this.
It was real. Too real.
Just as I climbed to my feet, Madeline gasped, and I froze. She flung off her bed in record time, landing on the floor. She flew to her feet and darted over to her door, jiggling the handle so hard I thought it was going to snap.
I slowly sat back down onto the chair, washing away the worry from my face. I thought fast on my feet, telling myself not to act concerned in any way whatsoever, because she’d only push further if she knew I was worried. Madeline had a thick wall in place when it came to others, which was exactly why she was cruel to people. I wasn’t dense. I’d watched her from afar. Her cruelness would climb to its highest peak when someone got too close. I’d always known there was a reason behind it.
When Madeline turned around, blue eyes wild with fear, she let out a yelp.
Not a single muscle on my face moved. I flicked my attention to her as she stood by her door in nothing but cotton shorts and a loose shirt. Wet tears glistened on her pale cheeks.
Madeline placed her hand over her heart and clenched her eyes shut as faint lines formed at the corners. Her blonde hair was sticking to the sides of her temples with sweat. I had no idea what she had dreamed about, but I intended to find out.