Witch Island (6 page)

Her older brother was in college, having received a full scholarship. Gwen had walked in her brother’s footsteps, and made sure her grades were great so she could go to the college of her choice and make something of herself. All her hard studying had paid off. She had a full ride to Stanford, the same place Jim would be attending. She’d nearly gone through the roof when he received his acceptance letter.

Staring at her car, she was more than appreciative to have it. It would be coming to school with her, get her where she needed to go and be there for her, but when she was done with college, had her career and got a job, a real job, she was going
new car
all the way. She looked forward to the day she would be able to buy one, but more than that, she couldn’t wait to help her parents out. They deserved so much more than they had, including an early retirement. Having a degree in psychology wasn’t a guaranteed moneymaker, but if she worked hard, the cash would come.

Gwen rang the doorbell again, wondering what was taking Shay so long to answer the door. She took out her cell phone, ready to call her, when the door opened. Gwen screamed with joy, throwing her arms out, mirroring Shay’s reaction, and the two friends wrapped their arms around each other.

“You’re crushing me,” Gwen said, laughing.

Shay let go. “I’m just so happy for us.” She threw up her arms and twirled. “Done with high school, parents and this small town.”

“You do realize you’re going to college in a small town?”

“Yeah, but…you know what I mean.” Shay playfully swatted Gwen’s shoulder, then pulled her inside.

They went upstairs and joined Melinda and Julie in Shay’s bedroom, which was the size of Gwen’s parents’ living room. A huge canopy bed extended from a wall. A sixty-inch flat screen was attached to the wall opposite the bed. Next to the largest of three plate-glass windows was an ornate-looking computer desk and executive chair, two brand new laptops resting on it. A walk-in closet housed numerous rows of shoes on one side, clothing on the other. A purple sofa took up space in front of the windows, facing the room.

Gwen took a seat on the bed next to Shay. Melinda was spraying a number of Shay’s perfumes, deciding which one she wanted to wear tonight. Julie lay sprawled across the sofa, reading the latest issue of
Cosmopolitan
, her long red locks flowing over the side.

“So,” Gwen said, “I heard Steve Mayfield will be coming tonight.”

“It would be nice if he wasn’t still dating that bitch,” Julie said, flipping a page angrily, then looked up, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said that aloud.

“You didn’t tell her?” Gwen asked.

“No,” Melinda said, grinning. “Thought I’d surprise her.”

“Tell me what?” Julie asked, putting the magazine down.

“Steve and
that bitch
,” Gwen said, answering for Melinda, “as you so accurately described her, broke up.”

Julie’s face brightened, a smile formed. “How long ago?”

“Little over four months ago,” Gwen said.

Julie sat up and scowled at Melinda, who was still spraying herself with perfume. “Why didn’t you tell me? I might not go to the same school, but I only live a few towns away.”

“I think I’m going with this one,” Melinda said, holding a dark purple, chubby-looking bottle of perfume.

“Mel, I’m serious.”

“Steve needed time to get over Kelly,” Melinda said. “You’d have simply been a rebound, and if I’d told you, you would’ve tried to get with him. I know how much you like him.”

“Yeah,” Shay said. “You don’t want to be the first one in there while he’s dealing with a hurt heart.”

Melinda held up the bottle of perfume. “Did you bitches hear me? I’m wearing this one, so don’t. I want to smell…unique.”

“Has Steve been with anyone since the breakup?” Julie asked.

“Dated, no,” Melinda answered. “Screwed, yes.”

Everyone stared at Melinda, mouths agape.

“What?” she said, shrugging, and took a seat next to Julie.

“Who’d he screw?” Julie asked.

“Some skank—” Melinda paused. “I mean, some girl he met at a party. He was with me and Darren. Steve was wasted. I think the girl practically raped him.”

Julie punched Melinda in the arm.

“Ouch,” Melinda said, rubbing her shoulder. “You should be glad. It helped him get over the ex.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Gwen said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No it’s not,” Shay said. “I agree with Mel, at least when it comes to guys getting over someone. Screwing someone else seems to break the connection a little. A swift slice.” She made a chopping motion with her hand.

“So…” Julie said.

“So,” Shay echoed, “he’s all yours now.”

“You think?” Julie asked. “It’s only been a short time. He was with her for years.”

“Oh, it’s time,” Shay said.

“And besides,” Gwen said, wanting to make sure Julie was as confident as possible before seeing Steve, “you two really hit it off last year at the party. I saw sparks, for sure. He couldn’t stop talking about you.”

Shay bounced excitedly on the bed. “Oh, yeah. He definitely has a thing for you. He was just like one of those abused animals that are so used to getting beat that they get confused and become super loyal to their owners. He’s over that shit now. Give him a blowjob and he’ll be yours.”

Silence, then the room broke into laughter.

“I’m hoping for a little more than that,” Julie admitted, her cheeks turning red.

Shay laughed even harder. “Oh no, you didn’t just say that.”

Melinda scoffed at Julie. “Julie!”

“What?” Julie said, looking around the room, her face beet red. “I haven’t been with anyone in awhile, and I need to get me some.”

Everyone laughed even harder.

“I think we all plan on getting some,” Shay said, nodding. “I plan on draining my man dry.”

“I don’t know,” Melinda said. “Doing it in the woods, with all the bugs and snakes…” She shivered. “It ain’t like we’re bringing tents.”

Shay pounded her fist in disbelief against the mattress. “Get out of here. You’ve never had sex in the woods? Hugging a tree while your man pounds you from behind? That’s getting in touch with nature, sweetie.”

“No, we’re civilized sex people,” Melinda said with a straight face, then burst out laughing. “We use backseats and living room couches.”

More laughter.

“So for tonight, just blow him,” Gwen said. “This way you don’t have to worry about bugs crawling up your holes.”

The laughter and sex talk continued for a while, the girls having their fun, discussing whose man liked what and other intimate details. Eventually, the girls went downstairs for dinner. Shay grilled up some chicken breasts on the backyard barbeque and the girls ate Greek salads with them, also prepared by Shay.

After dinner, Melinda and Julie went upstairs to get ready for tonight, while Gwen and Shay sat in the living room, Gwen getting lost in the plush couch that extended around the room in front of a huge, stone fireplace. She could get used to living here, but wondered if owning such a nice place cost more than money. Shay’s parents were always busy, and had been since she could remember. Some people, she guessed, just liked to work and have things, when they should realize that having children is the greatest thing a person could be given.

“Julie’s one horny little bitch, eh?” Shay said from her seat across the room.

Gwen was done with the sex talk. Shay was a nympho and could talk all night about the subject, except when it came to Paul. That topic, though bragged about, was never talked about in detail, like the way he moved, his size or anything else.

As Gwen stared at Shay, she wondered how her friend could be okay with leaving Paul, the two going to different schools, hundreds of miles away from each other. She supposed it was natural, that it happened to a lot of couples. Some made it, others moved on. She supposed she was lucky that she and Jim were going to the same college. Gwen felt a weight press down upon her. She was going to miss her friends, which was why tonight was all that much more important. Sure, they all had the summer to hang, but tonight was when they all would be together, and she had no idea when that would happen again.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Gwen asked, sitting up.

“Uh-oh,” Shay said. She got up and hopped onto her dad’s recliner, pushed on the lever and fell back. “I’m ready to talk, doctor, or are you the patient?”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “You’re really okay with you and Paul going to different schools?”

“Hell yeah.”

Gwen watched her friend, looking for a crack in her bullshit suit of armor, but found none. “I’d freak out if I had to be away from Jim for so long.”

Shay stared at the ceiling, the chair almost horizontal. “You’re not me,” she said. “In fact, you and Jim are the opposite of me and Paul. You two are soulmates, meant to be together.” Shay paused. “Me and Paul…well, we both want to experience the world outside of small town life.”

“So do I,” Gwen said, defensively.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Shay said. “I mean, I wish I had what you and Jim had, and maybe I do, but I’m not willing to go there yet, and neither is Paul.”

Gwen thought she heard a twinge of sadness in her friend’s voice.

“I love Paul,” Shay continued, “but he’s going away to college. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to wait for me. I wouldn’t ask him to do that. He needs to
sow his oats
as the saying goes—experience life as an adult, outside of this small town. And I know he wants the same thing for me. If we’re meant to be together, then it’ll happen.”

“Aren’t you worried you’ll lose him, forever?”

“I’ll miss him, but we’ll keep in touch—internet, phone, his inability to forget about me because I’m so damn sexy and wild in the sack. Other than that, whatever happens, happens.”

Shay pulled the lever on the chair and bolted to an upright position. “I bet if you and Jim went to different colleges that you’d both be faithful, and wind up marrying each other when all was said and done. You’re a lucky girl.”

Gwen’s chest grew warm, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Enough of this crap,” Shay blurted as she sprang out of the chair. She hurried to Gwen, grabbed onto her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “Tonight’s about fun and the
now
. Screw tomorrow; who knows if it’ll come.”

Shay turned and headed upstairs. Gwen followed, and the two joined Melinda and Julie, who were both applying makeup after their showers.

“Bathroom’s free,” Melinda said.

“I’ll go next,” Gwen said, and headed into Shay’s gorgeous and huge bathroom.

Chapter Six

George Wilford was getting too old for this shit. He needed a partner, but there was no one he could trust. His wife was a lazy-ass, always complaining about this and that, but never wanted to lift a finger to do anything, including cook a decent meal. The bitch wanted things too, like jewelry, a new television, a new car—
yeah right
, yet she wouldn’t go to work. George’s pension from the post office wasn’t cutting it, so he went into business for himself after being presented with a golden opportunity.

Sitting in his rowboat, the green paint all but faded from years under the sun, he rowed across the lake, his left shoulder barking every time he rotated it. He had a partially torn rotator cuff according to the scans his doctor had shown him. He needed surgery, but he wasn’t about to let some knife-eager sociopath open him up. That shit only led to more problems, just like when he brought his pickup truck to the mechanic. One thing got fixed, but there was always something else that needed repairing. Hell, in this economy, those bastards probably caused other shit to happen just so they could get the vehicle back in the shop. Well, George knew better than to do that, which was why he fixed the truck himself and why he wasn’t getting any surgery. His arm still worked, just not as well as it used to.

Physical therapy was the next best option; he just didn’t want to spend the money on it—his insurance only covered so much—but after his new venture panned out, he’d be visiting his doctor again and getting that referral.

As George’s boat approached the island, he spat, thinking how silly it was to have named the place Witch Island, as if any of the legend had really happened.

George had lived in Salisbury Mills for all sixty-two years of his life. He grew up with the stories of the island, how people had gone missing because of the place. He never believed in them. Such superstitious garbage was for the weak-minded idiots that needed something to be afraid of because the shit in the actual world—sex, murder, rape, mass killings—was all too real for them.

George hadn’t heard any stories recently though, guessing it was because the kids of today were too involved with video games and cell phones, never taking the time to give a shit about something that wasn’t virtual—and when they went to the movies, especially a horror movie, they laughed at the scenes involving someone getting the ax, or eaten by a monster. George knew why—it was the fucking cell phones. He stopped going to the movies, the one thing he did enjoy, because half the theater was lit up with kids texting. He was amazed at how so many young people were great at multitasking—searching the web, texting their friends and watching a movie, yet when it came to education they were all lazy, no good shitheads.