Odd One Out

CHAPTER 31

Bailey
Saturday, November 15

The cold air nearly sliced through my skin as I zoomed loudly past the cookie-cutter houses, barely able to breathe amidst the gusts of wind I was creating.

It wasn't my intention to steal Viktor's bike, but my brain had stopped controlling my body and I was now acting upon empty thoughts. Whoever this mysterious person was, they clearly already knew what I'd done, and there was no point in hiding anymore.

Everybody knows what you did.

My mom had done an incredible job of keeping me out of the legal situation, and it was because of her that I was able to leave without so much as a dent in my academic record. But now, she would be the one to pay for my actions, simply because I was a coward.

That man's family would never rest easy, and all because I went running back home instead of calling the cops, like I should have. My mom's license could be revoked, she could even go to prison. And it would all be my fault.

It wasn't your fault. You were being threatened.

No, you were old enough to understand what you had to do.

He threatened you. He provoked you.

There was no point in hiding myself anymore. This mystery person was right; I'd messed everything up and if I had learned to stop running away from my problems, then maybe I wouldn't be here. None of us would be.

Maybe that's why I wanted so desperately to solve this case, and prove Detective Summers wrong. I wanted to finally stop running, and face my problems. And when that didn't work...

You ruined it. You ruined that man's family, and your mom's reputation. You ruined it, like you ruin everything.

Summers was about to have the happiest, most fulfilling day of her life. Turning myself in would probably feel like Christmas Day to her, me being the one present she had wanted to get all year long.

And I'd walk in and tell her, "I don't know if I'm really a cat, but I think I did run out of lives. You were right. You win. I'm sorry."

And she'd probably give me another coded message or something, and I'd have to go to court. I wouldn't even get to graduate or anything — just straight to jail. I'd have to figure out a way to get my mom out of the situation too, since she was the one who helped me in the first place.

Her argument back then was that it was possible for me to be in danger had I called the police, sine I saw his face and he knew I could easily identify him. Fear was something I could not control, and I believed her when she told me that. I believed that seeing that man beat up someone nearly to death was frightening enough to make me panic, but when he got in the middle of the sidewalk to trap me into not moving further, I froze. But as soon as he threw his liquor bottle at my feet and plunged towards me, I grabbed a shard and did what I had to.

The problem wasn't that I stabbed him. The problem was that after stabbing him, I took out the glass and stabbed him again. And again. And again.

I wasn't interested in law before, but this incident made me start reading the books she had stored in the basement. I wanted to know in how much danger I would be, and how much time the killer would face, and before I knew it, I was addicted to learning about law. Mostly because I was trying to escape it.

The memory angered me even more, and I tried to go faster on Vik's bike but it swiveled slightly, causing my blood to slip straight to my feet. 

The feeling of losing control of a motorcycle at nearly seventy miles per hour, on a forty-mile zone, was mortifying beyond belief. Still nervous about the sudden near-death experience and scolding myself for being so careless, I held tightly and tried to maneuver it correctly this time around.