Chapter 13
A girl screamed. It was a pulse-quickening howl. Lilly stopped in her tracks to the horse pasture.
The wind howled around the hen house, blowing drizzle into her face. "Hello?" She pressed her ear against the wet planks and listened, but it remained silent on the other side of the wall. The curtain hung drawn behind the window. She circled the hen house and yanked at the doorknob. It was locked. "Is there anyone in there?"
A cow mooed a little further down the pasture.
A girl had definitely screamed from inside the hen house. Lilly wasn't suffering from hallucinations, dammit. Miley hadn't shown her the hen house yet, even though they should've disinfected it by now. And, if it was usable again, why was it locked? Lilly gnawed on a hoodie strap.
By the evening, Miley and Mr. Stewart still hadn't returned. They had told her that they were going to see a sick relative.
Again.
Lilly called her mother. They talked about trivial matters because Lilly wouldn't dare to mention the true reason for her call—that inexplicable scream. It was just too insane. But when her mother hinted that she wanted to end the conversation, Lilly exclaimed, "I heard a girl screaming in the hen house."
Excuse me?
Lilly paused and listened into the bedroom's silence. The Stewarts had yet to return. Her nightstand lamp flickered on and off with an electric buzz, casting shadows on the wall that vanished as quickly as they appeared. For a few days now, that stupid thing had been broken. Lilly lowered her voice. "I swear to you. It's always locked. Something's wrong with it."
Lilly. Mrs. Truscott's voice took on a warning edge. Your excuses are getting increasingly ridiculous. My response will always be the same: if you're not in danger, you'll stay in Tennessee.
"But maybe I am. You should've heard it. It was super creepy."
A sigh came from the other side of the phone. Okay, let's pretend for a moment that you're telling the truth. Who do you think it could've been?
How would Lilly know? Since she had arrived here, she had been in a constant state of confusion and emotional ups and downs. "A kidnapping victim? I don't know."
For a moment, only Mrs. Truscott's soft breath came through the phone. If I didn't know you'd try anything to get back home, I'd be concerned about your mental health.
Of course, it sounded ridiculous. Lilly herself didn't believe her own accusations. She exhaled a sigh. "I'm home alone right now, and I'm bored."
And you thought to yourself, 'Why not pull your mother's leg?' Am I correct?
"Yeah." Of course, her mother was right. The Stewarts did not keep anyone in the hen house. That would be absurd. But who had screamed then?
It had been drizzling for four straight days, and when Lilly pulled back the curtains this morning, she couldn't help but smile as sun rays streaked through the chestnut leaves, turning yellow to a transparent gold. Crimson leaves clustered on the hen house's moss-overgrown roof. Lilly's smile dropped. She hated that thing. She had knocked a few more times and listened with one ear against the planked walls, but found no sign of anyone inside.
Lilly followed Miley down the stairs. Jackson walked out the front door and onto the front porch, balancing a stack of egg cartons in his arms. Mr. Stewart emerged from the kitchen, hoisting a huge metallic milk jug to his chest. He bumped into Miley.
"I'm sorry, Daddy." Miley stepped around him. "Where are you goin'?"
While Miley was still in her lavender flannel pajamas, Lilly was fully dressed.
Mr. Stewart banged the jug to the floor and reached for his jacket, which was hanging on a coat stand near the front door. "I'm helpin' your brother in loadin' the pick-up truck."
Mr. Stewart had told Lilly that the majority of their income came from horse breeding and that they only sold surplus eggs and milk at the weekly farmer's market.
"D'ya leave us any milk to go with our cereal?" Miley poked her head into the kitchen, and when she turned back, a frown crinkled on her forehead. "Why ain't the table set?"
"Because there's breakfast at the market today."
"That's real nice for Jackson, but what about Lilly and me?"
Mrs. Stewart buttoned his jacket. "I reckon ya forgot because ya still ain't dressed."
Miley cocked her head to one side.
"When I asked ya a few days ago to clear up the fallen leaves, ya said if ya had your druthers you'd help Jackson at the farmer's market."
Miley had coaxed Lilly into jumping into the swept-up piles of leaves in front of the cottage with her, and just as the last pile lay spread all over the front yard, Mr. Stewart's voice had boomed over to them. Miley had stuck out her lower lip, wide eyes sitting under a frown. I'm sorry, Daddy. Even her puppy face hadn't gotten her out of the situation, so she had agreed to help Jackson at the farmer's market the following weekend.
Miley, who seemed to remember, snapped her fingers. "Dagnabbit. I was lookin' forward to a lazy weekend."
"Sometimes you're about as useful as a steerin' wheel on a mule."
"Daddy… "
"I'm sorry, Darlin', but ya know ya rarely help out on the farm."
"You know how busy I am. With school and that other… thin'."
Mr. Stewart raised his arms in appeasement. "You're right. But I'd still appreciate it if ya could help Jackson."
"Fine."
After they finished loading the pick-up truck, they drove to the town center, which was only five minutes away by car. The other vendors had already set up their stalls in the cobblestone-paved marketplace, the majority of which displayed a colorful array of autumn fruits and vegetables. The sweet scent of flowers wafted from the stall to their right, and the one to their left displayed honey jars with whole honeycombs inside.
Lilly placed a stack of egg cartons on the floor. "During the summer, this spot must be one hell of a nightmare for any bee allergy sufferer."
"If only you knew." Jackson adjusted the fold-out wooden table under the blue and white striped awning that stretched over them. "But certain other people who don't have allergies don't have to stand here because they're Dad's little girl." He threw Miley a pointed look as she walked back to the truck parked behind the stand.
Lilly juggled an egg in her hand. "Do you actually get the eggs from the hen house too, or just the barn?"
For a brief moment, Jackson remained silent. "Wherever there are eggs, I'll find them. Otherwise, the hens will stop layin' new ones."
"This may sound stupid, but… " Should she ask him about the scream? At best, he would think she was crazy, like her mother. Worst-case scenario, he would tell Miley, and if she really had something to hide… Lilly had a bad feeling. "I heard a scream from inside the hen house."
Jackson glanced at her with his downturned eyes, his expression unreadable. "You have no idea how shrill and loud hens can scream." He fished a slate from a wooden crate.
"So, they're back in there?"
Jackson nodded and scratched the chalk against the slate. Free Range Eggs.
Lilly helped Miley in stacking the egg cartons on the table. Miley climbed onto the pick-up truck's cargo bed and lifted a stack from a crate.
"Friggin' mother trucker!" In the middle of the marketplace, a man clenched two empty jute bags in his fists. Walnuts rolled down the cobblestones and a mountain of sunflower seeds piled up at his feet. Two pigeons fluttered to his feet, and he flailed his arms around, shooing them away.
Miley giggled. "We can feed the poor pigeons when we're done settin' up the stand. I packed extra cereal for them."
A pigeon landed on the advertising pillar in the middle of the marketplace. A poster depicted Hannah in her famous singing pose, but instead of a microphone, she held a photoshopped pen to her mouth.
Come meet your favorite pop star and get your CD signed now.
November 8
12:00 p.m.–6:00 p.m.
Visit us at: Sunset Records, Saddlers LN, Crowley Corners, TN 38401
That was the following weekend, and Saddlers Lane was only two blocks away from the marketplace. Lilly actually got a chance to apologize to Hannah, to tell her that she admired her and that the rejection was just a misunderstanding.
"Could you take some of my egg cartons?" The stack of cartons in Miley's arms reached up to her face.
Lilly jumped onto the pick-up truck bed and set half of the stack down. "I'll for sure go to that autograph session."
Miley followed Lilly's gaze. "Really? I thought you hated your last meetin' with h—"
"—What makes you th—"
"—You forgot to lay this out." From below, Jackson threw a yellow tablecloth onto Miley's egg cartons.
"But I've already started unpackin'."
"That's not my problem. It looks more appealin' with the table settin' and a more appealin' stall equals more sales."
He returned to the stand, and Miley muttered slave driver as she placed the egg cartons and tablecloth at her feet.
"Isn't Sunset Records that store with the huge neon guitar sign across from the ice cream parlor?"
"You really want to go, huh?"
"Hell yeah. And this time you must come with me."
"I can't."
"You hate her."
"What?"
"You hate Hannah. That's why you never want to see her in person." Lilly sat on the low wall enclosing the cargo bed.
"That's ridiculous."
"Okay, then come with me."
Miley's eyes grew distant. "I don't know… "
"See."
Miley flopped down next to Lilly and let out a heavy sigh. "All right."
"You're going?"
"I reckon I do."
Lilly smacked her stack of notebooks and books on her table, slumped in her chair, and crossed her ankles in front of her. She would see Hannah again in a day, and nothing could spoil her mood until then. Except…
Mikayla passed by Lilly's table, her dead stare fixed straight ahead, followed by Chelsea and then Nancy, who stopped and glared down at her.
Lilly raised an eyebrow. "What do you want?"
Nancy tapped Lilly's notebook. "You know the rules: no lunch during class."
Chelsea's tooting elephantine laugh drowned out the few snickers around her.
Lilly slung her arms around herself and averted her gaze. "Go fuck yourself."
Nancy tsked. "What do you think Principal Keith will say about your behavior?"
So much was already clear: Lilly couldn't rely on his help.
Nancy swept Lilly's books from her table, which thudded on the ground.
Bitch. She fisted the fabric of her hoodie under her arms and watched Nancy until she settled into the seat next to Mikayla. She picked up her books and caught sight of Oliver, who sat two tables away from her. He snapped his head to the window. He had broken his promise. Lilly had expected nothing less, but she hadn't anticipated it happening so quickly. She didn't need a boyfriend who ignored her when things became uncomfortable for him. Hell, she didn't need a boyfriend at all, nor did she need friends. At least not for as long as she was in Crowley Corners. She would make it through the school year. Somehow.
After chemistry class, Oliver slouched against his locker, playing on his cell phone. Lilly pushed Miley's satchel back into her grasp and turned away from the locker. Since the bathroom bullying Miley insisted on not being left alone, but a better opportunity to talk to Oliver would never come up. Lilly set off to him.
Fingers drilled into her hoodie-sleeved arm and Lilly spun around to find Miley gaping at her. "Don't even think 'bout leavin' me alone."
"I need to talk to Oliver."
Miley tightened her grip.
Despite the pain, she was unknowingly inflicting on her, Lilly managed a reassuring smile. "It won't take long. I promise."
Miley craned her neck and squinted through the crowds of students at Oliver. "I'll hide until then." She let go of Lilly's arm and buried her head in her locker.
"Don't do that." Lilly tapped her on the shoulder, and Miley leaned back. "Just try to act as normal as possible while I'm gone."
Lilly weaved her way through the crowd toward Oliver, who was still staring at his cell phone. She paused in front of him, crossed her arms, and waited. He snickered to himself, shook his head, and looked up. The smile fell off his face and he backed away.
"Are you serious about having me as your girlfriend?"
"What are you doing," he hissed.
"Are you?"
"Of course."
"Then," Lilly indicated his position, backed up against the locker, "start acting like it."
His anxious gaze swept down the hallway. He acted like she wasn't just an outcast, but an outlaw he couldn't be seen with. Freaking idiot.
"Do you remember what you promised a few days ago?"
Oliver remained quiet, and Lilly assumed he was going to ignore her, but then he reached for her sleeve. "Come with me." Despite her protests about class starting soon, Oliver led her out the front door, around the school, and across the sports field. He didn't let go of her until they got to the bleachers. "Here we can talk undisturbed."
A swarm of cackling cheerleaders appeared around the corner of the school building and made their way straight for the middle of the field.
"Okay, almost undisturbed." Oliver drew Lilly closer to the bleachers.
Lilly returned to her previous stance, arms crossed across her chest. "So?"
"Yup, of course, I remember, and I stand by my promise."
"I didn't notice any of that in chemistry class."
"You mean that book thing?"
"Yeah."
Oliver made a dismissive motion with his hand. "I'd hardly call that bullying."
"So, what would you call it? A friendly banter between besties?"
"Maybe. Don't girls act like that around each other? I would've intervened if they had done something really bad. I really like you, okay."
Lilly scoffed. "You have an odd way of showing that. It's as if you don't care how Miley or I feel." If Lilly was completely honest with herself, she had only agreed to go out with him in the end because he reminded her of Aiden, and she had needed that sense of familiarity to keep her grounded during her confusion and loneliness. But, in the end, this relationship made her feel even more rejected.
"But… " Oliver huffed a groan. "I don't want to be an outsider. I don't want to lose my friends."
"You don't seem to mind losing your girlfriend, though." The words rolled off Lilly's tongue as easily as a skateboard down a quarter pipe. She had definitely made the right decision.
"What?"
It was also better for Miley. Even though she probably wouldn't admit it, she would be relieved. "You heard me."
The ringing of the bell echoed across the field, and Lilly turned on her heel.
"Wait. Let me explain." Oliver grabbed her arm and Lilly whirled around.
"What's there to explain? You only consider how you feel. It's as simple as that."
"You don't know what I've been through." Oliver let out a forceful breath. "It's com—"
" —If you say complicated," Lilly wrapped her hand around a metal bar of the bleachers, "I'm going to smash my skull against this damn thing until my brain's strewn all over this fucking lawn."
Oliver's mouth snapped shut.
As Lilly continued on her way back to the school building, her heart pounding hard in her chest, she didn't know what had come over her.
Lilly flipped her baseball cap with the stitched Hannah Montana logo backward on her head. The line in front of her stretched past a dozen shops to the record store, while behind her it curved around the corner cafe at the end of Saddlers Lane. Half of Tennessee seemed to be queuing to have their CD signed.
Miley peered through the restaurant window next to them, where an elderly couple spooned soup from white porcelain plates set on a red and white checkered tablecloth. They returned Miley's stare with a scowl, and she turned away. "I shoulda brought somethin' to snack on. I'm so hungry I could eat the north end of a south-bound goat."
Lilly's stomach gurgled in response. A warm tomato soup would be nice right now, but she would fast for weeks if it meant meeting Hannah again.
"I think I'm gonna get a doughnut from the bakery down the street."
"Just grab some chow from there." Lilly nodded torwards the tiny grocery store across the street.
"I don't think I've any money on me." She patted her Jeans pockets.
"And I only have fifteen bucks with me. Just enough to get a second Hannah CD if the record store wants it."
"I'm also real thirsty. Would you… " Miley tucked a strand of brunette hair behind her ear. "Would you mind if I went home?"
Lilly whipped a water bottle from her shoulder bag and handed it to a frowning Miley.
Miley had just pushed the half-empty bottle back into Lilly's hand when she leaned against the burgundy-painted wooden door of the restaurant. "My legs are hurtin'. I need to sit down. There are benches about a block away."
Jeez, what was up with her? "The floor looks pretty comfy to me." After all, she had made the correct guess. Miley couldn't stand Hannah. That was the only possible explanation for her strange behavior.
Lilly fished her phone from her coat pocket. White numbers covered half of the pixelated background image of Malibu beach—12:11.
Miley yanked the phone from her grip and stared at the tiny display. "Daddy is goin' to kill—" She paused, her wide eyes meeting Lilly's, and she forced a strained smile. "I… " Miley leaned forward, her hands pressed against her crotch. "All that water. I need to go."
Lilly could only scowl after her as she dashed down the street.
Her cell phone read 12:26 before the line edged forward, past the restaurant, and the dark diamond-paned windows of a closed bar that gave off a whiff of skunky beer. Had Miley bailed on her?
Hannah flashed the little girl in front of her the brightest smile she could muster. She sat at a table at the back of the tiny store. The line behind the girl wound its way through low CD displays to the front, where it disappeared behind the open door.
After one hour of nonstop CD signing, her hand was already cramped up and she shook it out. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Daisy," the girl mumbled, looking up at her mother for approval before handing Hannah her CD.
Hannah uncapped her marker.
Dear Daisy,
Life is what you make it, so let's make it rock!
xoxo Hannah
Hannah could feel her father's gaze boring into her back. He had accused her of not taking her career seriously enough while helping her put on her wig in the tiny employee restroom, and he had continued his criticism while she had applied her makeup in front of the stained mirror. "Here you go." She returned the signed CD to Daisy, who let her mother lead her away, revealing the next person in line.
Chelsea.
Hannah's fight or flight response kicked in—her muscles tensed, her heart rate increased, and her face flushed.
Chelsea handed Hannah her CD booklet. "I'm a huge fan of yours. You're awesome."
You're an evil bitch who should be locked up, Chelsea had hissed in the school's restroom. Miley's knees had pressed into cold, hard tiles as water had pooled down her hair and into the toilet bowl under her face. Chelsea's nails had pierced her neck as she had held her in place. The sharp stench of stale urine had mixed with toilet deodorizer. She only had a few seconds to gulp air into her lungs before being pushed back down. The toilet flush had rattled the pipes, and freezing water had risen around her head.
"Hannah?"
Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat. "Who do you want me to sign for?"
After Chelsea came Nancy, and when Hannah silently prayed to God that the gang's queen wouldn't appear, Mikayla stepped forward. She pressed her CD against her stomach, her acrylic nails clacking against the plastic case. "Do you remember me?"
As Miley had sputtered out toilet water, Mikayla had leaned against the stall, tracing her lips with red lipstick. She had smacked her lips, yanked Miley up by the hair, and dragged the lipstick across her face.
"How could I possibly forget about you?" Hannah tried to sound casual, but her voice retained a slight tremor. "Our trip was super fun."
A blush rose to Mikayla's cheeks, and she nodded eagerly. She handed Hannah her CD.
Hannah removed the booklet.
For my beautiful fan Mikayla.
May all your dreams come true.
xoxo Hannah
Hannah handed the CD back with a jittery hand, and Mikayla returned her fake smile with a genuine one. Hannah knew it was genuine because it reached her eyes. She hadn't seen her so happy since their trip.
Tears welled up in Mikayla's eyes.
"Is-is everything alright?"
Mikayla shook her head.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah noticed her bodyguard, Roxy, a black stocky woman, approaching the table. She motioned with a stopping hand sign and Roxy turned back. Hannah gulped. "What's on your mind?"
Mikayla wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. "Being called beautiful by you means a lot to me."
Goodness, Hannah knew this… it was all she could do. "I'm just jotting down what I see."
"You're an angel." Mikayla fiddled with her CD. "Do you remember what I told you about my grandmother?"
"The Broadway singer?"
"A well-known one back then. I'd always wanted to be a famous singer like her. I didn't tell you at the time, but she always said that having influence is the only way to change the world, and—" Mikayla inhaled deeply. "Like you and her, I want to make the world a better place."
"I-I don't think I have enough influence to change the world."
"You're wrong. Your song, Nobody's Perfect, gave me the strength to keep going during my darkest times. I'm sure millions of fans feel the same way about one of your songs."
The lump in Hannah's throat grew larger and she swallowed hard. When Roxy approached them again, Hannah let her lead Mikayla away.
After an hour, raindrops sprinkled Lilly's black coat, and she drew the hood over her head. Two hours later, the wind had seeped through the woolen fabric and laid a shiver-inducing coldness against her skin. A group of children sat cross-legged on the wet ground in front of her. Lilly rubbed the fronts of her thighs. If she could see Hannah again, the rain, cold, and leg pain from prolonged standing would be worth it.
Lilly's cellphone showed 4:02 as she entered the CD store. Warm, stuffy air hit her face, and a loud buzzing struck her ears. A massive roll-up banner on the far wall loomed over the line in front of her, with the same photoshopped image she had seen on the advertising pillar. She rose to her tiptoes in the hope of catching a glimpse of Hannah, but a father carrying his little daughter on his shoulder blocked her view. Lilly inched closer to the front millimeter by millimeter, like a turtle on sticky cookie dough. Over the din of people, a smoky laugh rang out. If Hannah could still remember her, would she even want to see her?
Lilly had been working on an explanation for her rejection all week. Hi Hannah, I don't think you remember me, but if you do, I'd like to apologize for my behavior, and even though it seemed like I turned you down… Lilly pinched the bridge of her nose. Shucks. What was it again? She had to concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate—
"—Next one, please." A deep voice with a thick southern accent cut through the buzzing. Two eerily familiar eyes peered out from beneath the brim of a classic fifties hat.
Lilly was the first in line. Hannah beamed up at her with her signature toothy popstar smile, twirling a marker in her fingers.
Lilly placed her CD on the table, leaving a sweaty hand print on the case. She wiped it down with her coat's sleeve before Hannah could pull the CD over to her. "Ha, Hinnah."
Hannah snickered, and Lilly's pulse shot up.
"Hi, Hannah." She fiddled with her hands. "I'd like to apologize for last time. I-I don't think you remember me—"
"—Lilly, right?" Hannah's toothy smile widened.
How… ? Did she even tell Hannah her name? Lilly responded with a nod.
Hannah leaned forward, casting a glance over her shoulder at her manager, who was talking to Hannah's bodyguard.
Lilly followed suit.
"I'm the one who should apologize," Hannah whispered. "I'm often told that I'm too intrusive."
"No!"
Hannah winced in her seat.
The bodyguard jerked her head up, her sharp eyes meeting Lilly's.
Lilly softened her voice. "You really weren't. I mean, I totally had the greatest time ever hanging out with you."
"You did?" A slow smile spread across Hannah's lips. She scribbled in Lilly's booklet and held the CD out to her.
Lilly yanked on it, but Hannah didn't let go.
She leaned forward once more. "Come to my limousine at six-thirty. It's in the parking lot behind this store."
Back outside, Lilly flipped opened the CD case.
Lilly, you're my most adorable fan!
I hope to see you very, very soon. ;)
xoxo Hannah