Kill or Tell

.xv.

As Thursday grows closer, Cassidy becomes more and more unpredictable, even going as far to whip out a pack of matches in fourth hour Spanish when the teacher ducks out of the room.

"Jesus, Cassidy!" I hiss, batting her matches under her desk before the teacher comes in and sees, but it comes out as a garbled, "Hmagnuf," and somehow, I'm the one holding the matches when Mr. Tulius walks back in.

"Beni!" he cries out, aghast. "What on Earth?" Snatched away, the matches were shoved to the bottom of Mr. Tulius's desk drawer, never to be seen again, but the smirk on Cassidy's face was more than visible enough.

I don't talk to Cassidy for the remainder of the period, instead, chewing fretfully on the end of my pencil. I don't know what to do about what happened Monday night, nor of how to act. I can still feel the pressure of her lips smashing against mine, but my hands shake, permanently stained with her father's blood. My arms tingle with Cassidy's seductive touch, my nose filling with the scent of an unsold, vacated house exploding into brilliant flames as a match slips from my unsteady grasp and onto the freshly stained wood flooring, its tip illuminating the recently painted walls.

I'm absolutely terrified of what Cassidy has made me do, and what she could get me to do in the future, but with Freddie ignoring me, Cassidy's the only friend I have left.

So I reach out as class is dismissed, entwining my blood soaked fingers with hers, and out the door we walk, hand in murderous hand, guilt and acceptance waging war in my heart.

*******

"Beni," someone calls out to me as I shuffle down the sidewalk, on my way to school.

I don't have to look to know just who it is. "Hello, Freddie." My voice is soft, quiet.

The footsteps quicken as Freddie draws up next to me, his backpack bouncing on his back. "Beni, I'm sorry."

"For what?" I murmur, even as a small, smile begins to grow on my face.

"For everything." He catches my dangling hand, our fingers twisting together in familiarity. "I'm sorry about yelling at Cassidy, and I'm sorry about yelling at you. Ignoring you."

"Acceptance," I state, my breath shaky, "is the fifth stage of grief." I squeeze his slightly sweaty palm. "Well done, you."

I think for a moment that this is it - that this is the moment where Freddie and I become friends again, and everything returns to normal - but then he leans down and brushes his lips against mine, drawing me into an utterly unexpected kiss.

Suddenly, I'm back in Cassidy's kitchen, a gun clenched in my shaking hand as Cassidy murmurs coercive words into my ear. Her lips are on mine, not Freddie's, and her arms are wrapping around me, not Freddie's. My fingers tighten involuntarily on the trigger and BANG!

I've killed a man.

Wrenching myself away from Freddie, I gasp, quaking in my shoes. I stare at my hands, sure that there's blood on them - sure that I'm still grasping that dreadful weapon - but my hands are empty and clean. Tears blur my vision as I begin to sob, clutching at myself as if, if I could hold on hard enough, I could keep away from the murderer that I am.

"Beni?" Freddie's voice is far, far away, drowned out by the deafening beat of my aching heart. "What happened?" Everything is loud, too loud. "Are you okay?"

"No," I choke out, smashing my palms against my ears in an attempt to smother the noise, oh the noise. The deafening silence that screams in my head - my heartbeats punctuated by gunshots and explosions.

I think Freddie's shouting. I think he's holding onto me. I think my face is buried in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, muffling my sobs and soaking up my tears. I think he's murmuring in my ears.

But my hands are still shaking as I relive Monday night, and nothing else matters.

And then I'm slapped across my cheek, and the world pulls back into focus.

"Jesus, Beni!" Freddie shouts as I bring my palm to my stinging face. "What the hell just happened?"

"Nothing important," I murmur, squishing my cheeks and looking down. "Nothing really at all."

"Beni—"

"Beni!" I turn away from Freddie as Cassidy's voice, bright and sharp, harnesses my attention. Her eyes are narrowed, perhaps in suspicion.

I haven't told him anything, I want to say, but I hold my tongue, hunching my shoulders and waiting for her to catch up.

"Hello, love," she murmurs, now close enough to touch me.

"H-hey."

"Winifred," she says, flinging out Freddie's full name with a nonchalance that makes me itch with discomfort.  I don't correct her, though, and neither does Freddie, who merely narrows his eyes as steps closer to me.

"Cassidy," he mutters, grabbing my hand and pulling me back.

"So," she says, smiling, "I hear your brother's dead."

I stiffen, casting a furtive glance at Freddie before widening my eyes at Cassidy. What are you doing? I want to shout, but once again, I hold my tongue, opting to squeeze Freddie's hand rather than speak.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is." The waver in Freddie's voice catches me off guard, making me feel sick.

But not as sick as Cassidy's widening smile makes me.

"Well, shouldn't you be happy? I mean, how many times have you complained about Chaddick? I thought you'd be exuberant. Hasn't he gotten what he deserves?" Her eyes glint with savage enjoyment as she watches Freddie's face crumple.

"I... I..." Freddie pulls away from me, shoving his fists into his pockets. "Beni," he chokes out, looking at me, pleading. I duck down my head, glancing away, and when I look back up, he's gone, walking away with his shoulder hunched and his head bowed.

"Huh," Cassidy says as we watch Freddie disappear around the corner. "I really thought he'd appreciate my gesture of kindness — that baby." Whirling around, she wraps her arms around me, nuzzling my cheek. "You're not a baby, now are you?"

My heartbeat quickens as heat rushes to my face.

"You're not a cry baby." She grabs ahold of my chin, jerking my face in her direction. "You appreciate everything I've done, don't you, love?"

I nod, unable to breathe with her lips this close to mine, unable to tear my gaze away from her lips.

"Anything, wasn't that what you said? You'd do anything?"

"A-anything," I breathe, stumbling over the word as my brain shouts, screaming for me to remember the matches and the gun, but I push away my conscience.

And then Cassidy's lips are hovering over mine, a hairs breadth away. "Do you love me, love? Do you truly care for me?"

"Yes." My voice is barely even a whisper.

"Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"Good." She pulls back, leaving me flushed and embarrassed as she begins walking away. "Because I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you were, love. You know that, right?"

Eyes wide, my face drains of color as I nod, mute. Then my feet start forward, following Cassidy as we make our way to school. I know without looking at my watch that we'll be late — I'd started out with barely enough time to make it as it was.

In the distance, the school bell rings.