Good Girls

Eden felt a phantom buzz in her pocket and fumbled her phone out so quickly her shaking fingers almost lost their grip. False alarm—no new texts on her screen, just the ever-dwindling battery and ever-later hour.

She tapped her messenger app anyway, just to double check; maybe she’d already gotten a response and hadn’t noticed?

Her last sent message glowed sweetly at her until the battery-saver kicked in and the screen darkened itself again.

“will you come with me?”

Delivered 7:52 pm.

She woke it up and scrolled back though the conversation. Had she been clear enough? Althea will know what happened, right?

Reading the backlog was a mistake. The tremors in Eden’s hands grew until her forearms ached, and the pit in her gut stabbed so sharply she couldn’t breathe around it. At least the tunnel vision had passed, but her ears still rang with screaming and accusations.

God, how could they have been so stupid? But it was the woods behind the church, no one ever went back there and Eden had carved out a little space to be safe there years ago.

She’d just wanted to do something nice. It was their first anniversary. She’d bought flowers and a teddy bear, and the afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees made Althea’s hair radiant and turned her eyes into polished topaz.

They’d sat on the blanket Althea had brought and eaten the sandwiches Althea packed, and then Eden could taste the sparkling apple cider they toasted with on Althea’s breath.

Neither had noticed the pastor’s son. They’d have never known he was there, if he hadn’t been a stupid kid who wanted to tell his dad about the high schoolers he saw in the woods. If Pastor Jim hadn’t called Eden’s house with such concern that— 

“Little Eden is such a good girl, surely her parents didn’t know she’d been giving in to such awful temptations and sinfulness, and perhaps they should talk to her about her confusion?”

Eden would have never known about the phone call, if her brother hadn’t poked his head in her door to tell her that—

“Pastor’s calling and mom seems mad, do you know what that’s about?”

“How should I know? Leave me alone.”

In the space of the moment you hear the creak before the glass gives way, Eden hadn’t had any reason to think they’d been seen, but the remnant warmth that sat below her skin and bubbled in her stomach died, and the giggles that threatened to burst from her throat like fizz from a champagne bottle turned rancid and choking.

“Althea I think they know”

Delivered 6:10 pm

Eden’s shoes were already on and her backpack was zipped and her duffel bag, full and heavy with anticipation for this day, was pulled out from the closet.

When her mom yelled for her, she was ready.

“my mom’s screaming for me to come down I’ve never heard her so angry”

Delivered 6:21 pm

It’s only been a few hours but she already doesn’t remember stumbling down the stairs, or when nerves finally won out over her stomach. She remembered that she’d tried to defend herself, reminded them she was an adult now and could make her own choices, but the anger and hatred in the room was suffocating.

“someone from the church saw us and told my parents”

Delivered 7:38 pm

“they said I have to leave”

Delivered 7:40 pm

“will you come with me?”

Delivered 7:52 pm

She and Althea had talked about this. They’d daydreamed and made plans, thrifted and packed go-bags and got prepaid phones their parents couldn’t cancel. Eden had bought hers with her meager savings for Althea’s peace of mind, and likewise Eden had prodded Althea to be well supplied in case of the worst.

They’d gone shopping together, joking that the bags wouldn’t see the light of day until they were packing for college and they unearthed them like archeologists and then they would laugh about how silly and paranoid they were, obviously they were way too slick and too smart and too lucky to get caught.

Eden had never expected to need hers. She’d squirreled away her documents and some cash and clothes and little travel toiletries. They’d scoured packing lists together to build the ideal escape checklist. She’d pretended they’d take them on their first vacation together, just the two of them somewhere no one cared.

Her battery dropped to the single digits. She dug for the battery pack she prayed was still charged.

They’d talked, but that was different from this. Eden was asking Althea to uproot her life, to reject her family before they could reject her. Eden hated her own weakness at needing the reassurance. After all, her mom’s voice told her, if she loved her so much why should she drag her down with her?

Her breath now coming in wretched little gasps, she opened the messenger again. She could fix this, she could protect Althea, she just had to take it back and tell her she didn’t need to come. Before she could type, the screen changed.

Read 10:04 pm

Three little bubbles bounced, disappeared for a long moment, bounced again.

“I’m already packed, babe. I love you.”

Sent 10:05 pm

Eden sobbed, a convulsion that wracked her body. Her chest heaved and her throat and eyes burned, but by one last miracle her fingers found the keyboard.

“I love you too”

Sent 10:05 pm

“We’ll be ok. We’ll be together, like we said”

Sent 10:06 pm

Eden sat on her duffel, backpack leaning up against her knee, and let her eyes spill over.

Eden stayed that way, perched in that same clearing that had been so perfect and full of love and light just hours ago. Now it just held the cool humidity of the evening, the small night animals scared quiet by her presence.

A warm hand brushed her hair back with the softness of a songbird’s wing.

“You can’t start out dehydrated,” Althea sniffled. She dropped to her knees in front of Eden and cracked open a water bottle and pushed it into Eden’s hands.

“Hey, you’re crying, too,” Eden gasped when the bottle was empty.

Althea laughed like a teacup about to clatter off its saucer and shatter. “I think you need it more than I do.”

Althea’s arms wrapped around Eden and pulled her close enough that Eden could smell her apple shampoo.

“You don’t need to uproot your life for me,” Eden whispered into the night.

“Maybe not. But I want to. I left them a note and my number with strict instructions to only call if they want me to come back with you.” Althea took a long, hitching breath that sounded painful. “They don’t deserve us. We don’t deserve them, either.”

Eden shuddered in her grasp and couldn’t tell if she was shaking Althea or if Althea was shaking her.

“Hey, we did it,” Althea whispered. “We made it to the rendezvous; phase one is complete. Begin phase two.”

“Phase two: get to Dane’s house, he has a pull out couch and an xBox.”

Neither of them went to move. Althea's phone never rang.

The night critters began their chirping, the moon washed everything blue, and Eden and Althea pulled each other to their feet and walked to start their lives under the soft glow of the streetlights.