To Outwit an Angel

25. Sleepover pt. 2, pt. 2

Loretta's POV:

I parked my bike in front of Sharlene's house and, kicking the snow off my boots, knocked against her door.

 The door whipped open after only two knocks.

 "I brought Sno-Caps!" I cheered, pushing the dollar store candy into her hands.

 "My favorite! Merry Christmas!"

 Pulling me into a side hug, which brought me into the house, Sharlene shut the door behind us, blocking out the frigid wind.

 Turns out, we hadn't missed Thanksgiving or Christmas—another holiday which obviously warranted a sleepover. The coma had only lasted a little over two weeks, which left us with the horrifying realization that time does, in fact, operate differently inside the loop, so God knows how many rotations that thing did before we killed Erik.

 "Merry Christmas, Loretta!" Mrs. Murphy stepped into the foyer and gestured to the nearby kitchen. "I bought you girls some frozen papaya since yours was spoiled on Halloween. Great in smoothies, and it can't be unripe if it's frozen, you know?"

 Sharlene darted a nervous glance my way.

 "No thanks, Mom. Save it for Dad."

 Mrs. Murphy propped her hands on her hips.

 "So I see your moment of eating healthy is over, Sharlene. Watch it, or I'll make the papaya a sleepover tradition."

 I actually shivered, but Sharlene only jutted out her chin in defiance.

 "Yeah, and if you do, we'll start sneaking out with Rob every sleepover."

 "Oh, no you don't." Mrs. Murphy pulled Sharlene into a hug. A display of affection that never would have happened before recent events. "I want to keep you girls safe always."

 I didn't even realize I was dancing on my tiptoes, eager to escape to the purple-tinted oasis of Sharlene's room. But when she departed her mom's hug, she giggled at my anticipation.

 "Let's go, Loretta. Enjoy that papaya for us, okay, Mom?"

 We didn't await Mrs. Murphy's reply, already thundering up the stairs to Sharlene's room.

 "Did you see how Rob was looking at you in algebra today? I don't think your silence strike is sitting well with him." I said, as Sharlene and I mounted the stairs.

 Sharlene's grin was sly.

 "Well, I broke my vow of silence during homeroom yesterday. I told him to get lost."

 "And I'm sure you used more... colorful language than that?"

 "Fuck yeah."

 Sharlene pushed the door open to her room, and I was enveloped in the  purple glow of her lava lamp.

 Her room hadn't changed much since Halloween's sleepover and the ensuing 'experience', except for one major difference. Tiny origami stars littered every available surface. Originally, she had filled a massive Mason jar with multi-colored ones, but then the project spilled over into the rest of her room.

 Once, I asked why she was so obsessed with them. She muttered something about Piangi, and I let the matter drop. Even now, our time in France haunted us. At least once a week, I jolted awake from night terrors, reliving that time the Phantom had kidnapped me, remembering his lifeless body lying limp on the roller rink...

 Maybe I should have felt bad about it. Killing him, I mean. He'd been traumatized, abandoned, ridiculed, downright tortured by dozens of people over the years. That's not to say I didn't feel bad about killing him—at first. Maybe I should have tried to reason with him?

 But this concept didn't last long. I mulled it over in my head instead of sleeping one night, only to realize I'd never be free so long as he lived. Even if it wasn't me in particular he was after, it'd be some other pseudo-Christine.

 What harmed him into making those obsessive choices wasn't my fault, and overall, I had to take care of myself and Sharlene, no matter what. Still, that guilt lingered in the back of my mind. In church, I'd look down the worship hall and think, nobody here knows they're sharing their pew with a murderer.

 But our Christmas sleepover was meant to be a happy night, so I pushed these dark thoughts away.

 "How was shopping with your mom?" Sharlene asked, as if sensing the bleak direction of my thoughts.

 So seamlessly, she distracted me. A grin broke across my cheeks.

 Ever since the coma, I'd become precious to my mother, garnering the same attention Jinjer always had. One good thing had come from our French liaison; it had reconnected me to my mother.

 "Great! Mom and I found some great deals at Kmart. She even painted my nails for me when we got home."

 I splayed my Christmassy red-and-green glittery nails in front of Sharlene, who smiled at them.

 "Your mom sure knows how to work a nail brush."

 "Yeah." A blush crawled up my cheeks. Connection with my mother was still such a new thing, and I wasn't comfortable talking about it for long. "I know it's not Halloween, but that's a silly rule anyway... Wanna listen to Phantom?" I laughed deviously. 

 Sharlene's grin was pure evil.

 "Only if we can play opera ghost first."

 "You're on your own there," I laughed, "come on. Phantom waits for no one!"

 I fished the CD out of Sharlene's box, and she started up the CD player.

 Like we had so many years before, like we would for so many years to come, we listened to that gentle music box, to those iconic first lines.

 When the overture blasted through Sharlene's bedroom, we allowed ourselves to be whisked back to Paris. If only for a moment and, most importantly, only in our minds.