Escape In You
Authors: Rachel Schurig
Escape In You
Rachel Schurig
Copyright 2013 Rachel Schurig
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 0989202194
ISBN-13: 978-0-9892021-9-0
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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For Lisa.
Your strength inspires me more than you’ll ever know.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Laura Koons at Red Adept Editing Services for all of your help, advice, and guidance.
Thank you, Najla Qamber, for the beautiful cover. You’re awesome!
najlaqamberdesigns.com
A special thank you to my mom, for being very supportive about this project.
Lastly, I am lucky to know so many writers who encourage and inspire me. Thank you Deanna Chase, Marie Hall, and Suzanna Medeiros. You guys rock!
Resources and Support
There are resources available for those struggling with mental health and substance abuse issues. Resources are also available for the loved ones of those struggling.
National Alliance on Mental Illness
1-800-950-NAMI (6264)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
1-800-273-8255
Alcoholics Anonymous
Al-Anon Family Groups
Chapter One
Zoe
Summer has snuck up on me. I was sure we had weeks left of spring, weeks to prepare for the appearance of the new season and everything that came with it. I went to sleep the night before with an extra quilt on my bed but by afternoon people were walking around my community college in shorts. Even now, long after the sun has gone down, a measure of warmth still hangs in the night air.
There’s a clang from inside the house and I tense, fearing the worst. After a moment’s silence, I allow myself to relax, stretching my jean-clad legs down across the porch steps and tilting my head back, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars above.
Ellie is late.
The silence, much welcome only moments ago, now weighs on me. I always find it strange, the way silence sometimes seems to have an echo of its own. When the yelling is bad—a fairly common occurrence—I crave silence. Other times, like tonight, it overwhelms me.
I hear the tell-tale rattle of Ellie’s car and sigh in relief before jumping up from the porch, purse in hand. Her ancient Honda makes the turn onto my street, her lights cutting out as she approaches the house, the way they’ve done dozens of times before. It’s not that I’m sneaking out—no one in that house has the inclination, or ability, to keep tabs on me—but I would rather avoid the possibility of having to talk to anyone. It’s best that the couple inside remains asleep. And best for me to get the hell away as soon as possible.
When Ellie pulls into the drive, I bound across the lawn and pull open the passenger door. As I slip into the seat, I think I see the kitchen light flicker on from behind my mother’s faded paisley curtains. I freeze for a second, but then pull the door shut. Ellie reverses down the drive. It no longer matters what’s happening in the house or who’s moving through the kitchen. I’m free.
“You’re late,” I say.
She flips me off, never taking her eyes off the road. “I had business to attend to.” She turns the headlights back on as she makes the turn off my street. I take note of her mussed hair and bare lips—a telling sign for a girl who rarely goes out without her trademark fire-engine-red lipstick.
I snort. “Business. Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”
She flashes me a wicked grin. “A little ‘business’ would help you out tremendously, you know. Release some of that tension. You’re coiled up like a spring, girl.” She reaches over and digs a nail into my shoulder.
I shake her off. “My tension-relief is vodka-flavored, thank you very much. That is, it will be if you ever get us to this party.”
I figure she’ll laugh at my alcohol reference, but she shoots me a knowing glance instead. “Rough day?”
I shrug, wishing she would look away. I so don’t need her eyes on my face right now. “Not much different than usual,” I finally mutter.
Her gaze flicks back to the road before she glances at me again. She sighs. “Well, let’s get you a drink then.”
I relax back into the seat, and raise my legs up to rest my feet on the dashboard, knowing it will piss her off. “So who’s going to be at this shindig anyways? Same old crowd?”
She shrugs. “I know Everett and Hunter will be there, and Mary and her crowd. Other than that, I’m not sure. Probably some kids home from college.”
Frowning, I look out my window at the dark street. Kids home from college. Great.
That’s the thing about summer; it brings with it people I don’t necessarily want to see.
“If Rick is there, I’ll kick his ass,” she assures me.
“I’m not worried about Rick.” I haven’t given my ex-boyfriend—if I could even call someone I hooked up with a few times over Christmas break a
boyfriend
—a second thought in months. “I just don’t like the vibe when the university kids come home.”
“Ignore them. We’ll hang out with our people, and they can hang out with theirs.”
I nod, not really listening. It’s easy for Ellie to say that—she’s one of the most confident people I’ve ever known. Besides which, she couldn’t give a shit about some stuck-up kids and their precious degrees. Higher education has never been on her radar.
And it shouldn’t be on yours either
, I remind myself. There hasn’t been a point in thinking about it in years, and there certainly isn’t one now.
“Alton Woods?” I ask, suddenly realizing the houses outside my window are getting much larger. “Since when do we go to parties in this neighborhood?”
She shrugs again. “I just go where they tell me the booze will be, babe.”
I rub suddenly damp hands across the knees of my jeans, wishing I could dispel the queasiness in my stomach as easily. I’m not off to a very good start tonight, and I can really use a drink. The parties Ellie and I usually attend seem to take place a world away from this enclave of stately homes and circular drives. Most Friday nights find us in a grotty basement or shared house on the other side of town. Who do we know that would throw a party in this neighborhood?
Ellie slows the Honda to a crawl. “Do you see any house numbers?” she asks, squinting. “God, are rich people too good for fucking house numbers?”
“It’s probably an attempt to keep people like us out,” I tell her.
“Well, it’s working. I have no clue which house it is.”
I point out the window at a guy carrying a six pack up a sloping lawn toward a monstrous brick mansion at the end of the street. “When in doubt, follow the guy with the beer.”
“Good point.” She pulls up behind a shiny silver truck and parks. She peers into the rearview mirror as she fluffs her jet black hair, and the street light illuminates the midnight-blue streaks at her temples. Ellie has a thing for crazy color highlights, and she can definitely pull them off.
I turn my attention to the house. Sure enough, the guy with the beer disappears behind its massive wooden front door. The house is situated at the end of a cul-de-sac, providing it with even more space and privacy than the other behemoths on the block. The neighbors probably aren’t even close enough to hear the music or party noise. When I open my door, I can’t hear a thing though from the amount of cars parked in the circle drive and on the street, I’m betting that the party is packed.
“I don’t know about this,” I say as Ellie joins me on the pavement. “This really doesn’t look like our scene.”
“You never know.” She links her arm through mine and pulls me down the street. “Rich kids probably have better liquor. Top shelf, baby.”
That familiar knot tightens in my stomach.
“We’ll bounce if it’s lame.” When I don't respond to her assurances, she tries a different tack. “I thought you wanted a drink? You’ll feel better when you get a beer in you.”
“True.” I allow myself to be mollified. “Just so long as we can leave if it’s lame.”
“Cross my heart. We’ll just steal the good booze and start our own party in the park or something.”
This is one of the reasons I like to hang out with Ellie. She always knows how to make me feel better without patronizing me. She gets me. She’s one of the few people in the world who does.
The noise of the party hits me when Ellie swings open the front door. I never imagined it would be this crowded—people are crammed together everywhere. “Holy shit,” Ellie mutters, hooking her arm more tightly against mine. “This is crazy.”
“Let’s find the kitchen. I’m going to need a beer before I start looking for familiar faces in this mess.”
We can barely make our way down the hallway through the throngs of people who quite obviously have already been hitting the drinks. Someone reaches out and grabs my shoulder. “Where you going in such a hurry, Gorgeous?”
I turn to find a guy dressed in a thin white t-shirt and a backwards cap. He’s clearly wasted and leering at me.
“We’re in need of refreshment,” Ellie tells him, smiling. She’s good at handling drunks and overeager boys. I take a step toward her, wanting to get free of him.
“I’ve got refreshment right here,” he says, grabbing his crotch as he shoots me a nasty grin that makes me want to puke. “Why don’t you stay, and I’ll give you some.”
Ellie’s expression turns stony. “We’ll pass.” She takes my arm and leads me away.
“Whores,” he mutters.
“Nice,” Ellie says, shaking her head. “Did he honestly think we would find that enticing?”
“What, you’re not turned on by potential date rapists?”
She snorts. “
Definitely
pass.”
I’m relieved when we finally reach the kitchen. Like the hallway, the room is filled with people, but its spaciousness and soaring ceilings help keep that claustrophobic feeling at bay.
Ellie zeros in on the keg, and I follow, grabbing a red plastic cup from the counter.
The line for the keg is long, so I take the opportunity to check out the crowd. I have yet to see a single familiar face, which surprises me. Given the sheer number of people in the house I’d expect to know
someone
. A few feet away, a group of three girls leans against the counter, laughing at something a guy in a football jersey is saying.
“Oh, God,” Ellie says softly. “That guy has to be at least twenty-five. Is he seriously wearing his high school team jersey?”
I snort with laughter and, too late, slap a hand over my mouth to cover the noise. The girls turn as one to stare at us. They’re exactly the type of people I would expect to find at a party like this—dressed in tiny miniskirts, tight tanks tops, and towering heels, they are what Ellie refers to as Big Hair Girls: the over-made, underdressed type that we avoid like the plague. But there’s no avoiding them now.
“What are you looking at, bitch?” the lead Big Hair Girl calls out, her eyes narrowed. One of her sidekicks says something too softly for us to hear, and they all giggle again.
“I’m not looking at much,” Ellie says, a deceptive sweetness in her voice.
Lead Big Hair Girl pulls herself up to her full height, her eyes narrowing even further. I shake my head. Clearly, this girl has no idea what she’s in for. If she knew what was good for her, she’d be scared shitless by that fake sweet tone in Ellie’s voice. You simply do not mess with Ellie Canter if you value your beautiful clear skin and wish to keep it that way.
“Excuse me?” The girl takes a step closer to us. Her friends put their hands on their hips and form a wall behind her.
“You’re excused.” Ellie’s voice is harder now.
Drop it
, I silently urge Big Hair Girl. I still haven’t gotten my beer yet, and I’m not really in the mood to see Ellie go all apeshit on this chick.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the girl demands, walking straight for us. She stops a step away, her gaze flicking up and down Ellie’s figure before darting over to me. She smirks. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time even acknowledging this trash.”