Wilt

Chapter 5: Good Girl 101

Gen felt trapped in her own house. Hers was the closest home to the crime scene, and the whole Haslemere police force was crammed in their narrow, rambling driveway. If she walked downstairs she would find her father's annoyance at missing a whole day of work. Her mother had recoiled at the masses of people in their kitchen and was fussing in her study, poking her head out at intervals to check that the men in uniform were real. She envied her brother, who had escaped to school for the past eight hours.

Briony had rushed off to her grandmother's early that morning. Gen didn't blame her for wanting to escape the horror of the previous night, but she would have appreciated having her friend there.

Gen had told her abridged tale to the police and handed over her phone with the pictures of the stag's head before trailing back upstairs to stare mournfully out the window. Almost immediately she began to get claustrophobic. She supposed that she should probably be hiding under her blankets in a pool of sweaters and anxiety, but she itched to do something. Anything, to distract herself from the pale figure as he cleaved the stag's head from its body.

She exhaled against the window pane and watched as her breath clouded the glass. Using her sleeve, she idly rubbed it clear. A glint caught her eye. A slim, dark figure, gloved hands clutching the handlebars of his motorcycle, idled at the edge of her driveway.

Was he there for her? Or to clean up his family's mess?

Gen rushed from her room and down the stairs, ignoring Piggy as he snapped at her heals playfully as she darted out the front door.

Malcolm was peering into the woods behind her house so intently that he didn't see her until she was almost upon him. His eyes boggled alarmingly and he revved his motorcycle, about to drive away.

Gen lunged for him and knocked him off his bike. "Oi!" she yelled as they tumbled into the gravel of her drive. "No way! No more being elusive and vaguely creepy."

He looked wounded. "I'm not creepy."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? What would you call lurking around my house? Or talking to trees in Latin?"

His eyebrows scrunched together. "Darkly mysterious."

Gen scoffed. "That sounds like a fragrance preteens wear."

He smirked. "Most people find it sexy."

She sighed deeply. "Maybe in novels. In the real world you're one of the weird kids."

"I'm sure. That must be why you're still lying on top of me then." He didn't smile, but Gen got the distinct sensation he was laughing at her.

She scrambled off him but stayed sitting in the snow. She noticed that he didn't move either.

"Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

He shrugged. She noticed that he used his whole body to do it, very European. "There were more important matters."

"You're skipping school for me? Are you going to propose? Oh, my!" She placed a hand over her heart. "Of course I did hope my beau would be less of a truant, but a lady can't be picky."

He looked away, confused and faintly embarrassed. "School isn't exactly working out for me."

Gen scoffed. "What? Is there no one at school good enough for you Hadlocks?"

Malcolm stiffened. "There's a difference between keeping to ourselves and being arrogant you know."

"You don't think you're better than us?" Gen asked, wondering if she had jumped to conclusions somewhere along the line.