House at the End of the Street Read online

  Neither of them spoke for a long while. Sarah swallowed down a few forkfuls of pasta before looking back up. “Liss… this place,” she said, glancing around the house. “This is new. This could be good for us.”

  “It’s going to take me a while to get used to having you around.”

  “Come on, I gave you the biggest room,” Sarah joked. “How hard can it be?”

  At that, Elissa smiled. She wanted to believe her mom. Sarah had promised her that after her night shifts at the hospital they’d make dinner together, they’d watch old movies, or spend time on the back porch, working through Sarah’s old record collection. She promised Elissa a whole week of Joni Mitchell, where they’d go through all her albums, Sarah playing her favorite songs as they downed Arnold Palmers in the late summer air. But part of Elissa was always waiting for things to return to the way they were—the edgy silence that always settled between them. How could a new town really change that?

  Sarah stood, clearing the dishes from the table. Elissa moved to help, but Sarah shook her head. “You cooked, I’ll clear,” she insisted. “Go finish unpacking.”

  Elissa glanced up the stairs, where a stack of cardboard boxes still awaited her. She could unpack tomorrow. The sun was still hovering in the sky. There were only thirty more minutes left before it went down, maybe less. Now that she finally had a backyard…she wanted to use it.

  “I just want to look around first,” Elissa said. She slid open the back door and started down the steps, toward a path that wound up into the trees. She kept her eyes on rocks and twigs, careful not to trip as she kept going, moving farther up the hill, into the higher land of the state park.

  The sun was lower in the sky. The abandoned house was a few yards below, a broken swing set visible from up high. She kept going, pushing beyond more trees, trying to get a vantage point to see how far back the park went. This was her new home now. Everything was going to be different—at least that was what Sarah hoped. They’d never spoken about it, but Elissa knew that beyond what had happened with her father, part of the reason they were here was because of Luca. Elissa had met him the winter before, and within fifteen minutes they were skipping seventh period to smoke a joint in his faded gray pickup truck. They’d been in school together since fifth grade, but Elissa still remembered the day she first noticed him—or noticed him noticing her.

  He sat beside her in study hall, carving something into the desk with a Swiss army knife hidden in his palm. He dug into the wood, the tiny shavings falling down around his feet. When he was done he uncovered it, curving his palm so only she could see. This blows, it read. Wanna get high?

  Luca was the kind of guy all the girls at Rossmore High School wanted to know, if only to say that they did. He was undeniably attractive, with toned biceps and dirty blond hair that fell into his green eyes. He always wore gray Tshirts and ripped jeans, sometimes also throwing on a wrinkled button-down on better days. He did things— smoked pot, drank, skipped class, had sex—and everyone knew it. Being around him propelled you out of whatever boring sphere you occupied and into his world, where everything was more exciting, more dangerous.

  Elissa pushed through the woods, remembering the feel of Luca’s hands on her skin, how he held the sides of her face as he kissed her hard on the mouth. She’d curl up in his lap, letting his hands get lost in her hair. After three months, she’d come home one night to find Sarah, red-eyed and exhausted, sitting up at the kitchen table. We’re moving, she’d announced, without offering any discussion. They’d fought until two thirty that morning, with Sarah saying that they needed a new start, that Rossmore wasn’t for them anymore. Didn’t Elissa want to live in a bigger house? Go to a better public school? Moving would increase her chances of getting into a good college.

  Elissa knew her mother could see it happening—how Elissa could so easily become her: pregnant at seventeen, married at nineteen, with a daughter who looked more like a sister. She wanted to say it wasn’t possible, that things with Luca were never serious, but she was afraid of something she’d suspected all along—that Sarah and her father hadn’t been serious either. That part of those first years, when they were so young and when her mother had gotten pregnant, had been a mistake.

  She agreed then. She didn’t want to repeat her mother’s mistakes.

  The sky grew darker. Elissa looked back, suddenly realizing how fast she’d been walking. She was far out into the woods, and all the trees looked the same. The birds were quiet. She heard a twig snap somewhere behind her and spun around, staring into the darkness. The hair on her arms bristled. She scanned the horizon, looking for signs of which way she’d come from, when she saw her mother in the kitchen window, so far below. She turned and ran, sprinting as fast as she could, not knowing what exactly had frightened her.

  “Bombs away!” a tan girl in a purple bikini screamed. She ran over the brick patio and leapt into the pool. A giant wave surged out around her, rippling the water’s crystal surface. The Reynoldses’ house was three times the size of Elissa’s, complete with a pool, waterfall, and hot tub. These people had money. A few guys and girls lounged around the kidney-shaped pool sunbathing, while others played Marco Polo in the shallow end.

  Bonnie Reynolds dragged Elissa away from her mom, insisting Elissa just had to meet her son. “That’s Tyler,” she said, pointing to a muscular boy with electric green swimming trunks. “You should get him to show you around. Tyler’s captain of the swim team, and he’s just a junior. He and his friends started an after-school club for famine relief and raised over a thousand dollars last year.” She raked her manicured fingernails through her highlighted hair. “Was it Africa or Tibet? Don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it was one of those starving places.”

  Elissa nodded, trying to focus on the cheeseburgers sizzling on the grill or the inflatable pool ball that flew over the picnic table. She’d been in Bonnie’s presence all of three minutes, and she couldn’t stand her any longer. You could tell Mrs. Reynolds was the type of parent who thought whatever Tyler did (tying his shoes, making his bed, blowing his nose) was worthy of a standing ovation. Elissa was about to break free when Tyler—the man, the myth, the legend himself—strode over. He narrowed his gray eyes at his mom, and she sauntered back toward the adults.

  “Sorry about that,” he said coolly. “She give you the full treatment?” He patted himself down with a towel, flicking back a few strands of wet hair.

  “Don’t sweat it—moms can be like that.” Elissa smiled, thankful that Tyler was at least semi-normal. “I’m sure you’re really a total loser.”

  Tyler laughed—a real, genuine laugh, and led her over to the buffet table. There were plates of coleslaw and French fries, a tray of hot dogs, and her mom’s rancid-looking potato salad. Sarah had decided to put pickles in it, despite Elissa’s warning against it.

  Tyler passed her a plastic plate and they both loaded up, settling down beside some of the adults. Bonnie looked up from her small heap of salad. “So how are you settling in?” she asked, her eyes glancing from Sarah to Elissa.

  “Have you met Ryan Jacobsen yet?” Tyler asked. His mother glared at him, but he ignored it.

  “Not yet…” Elissa said, a little confused. She recognized the last name—the Jacobsens were the couple who’d been killed in the house. But she hadn’t heard anything about a relative living in town. “Is he coming today?”

  “Here?” Bonnie sputtered, her voice rising three octaves.

  Ben Reynolds, Bonnie’s husband, smoothed back his thin brown hair. “Gee, honey,” he joked, “Did you forget to get that invite out in time?”

  The entire table erupted in laughter. A couple sitting next to Sarah nearly spit chunks of hamburger onto the patio. “Oh, stop it!” Bonnie said, waving him off with a smile. She turned to Sarah and Elissa. “Ryan Jacobsen is the son of the couple who were murdered. He still lives in the house, but he pretty much keeps to himself.”

  “Somebody should burn that house down,” a woman with ov
ersize sunglasses said.

  “Stop it, Jenny,” Bonnie hissed.

  The woman just shrugged. “I didn’t say Ryan Jacobsen had to be in it. But come on! Why is the kid still living there?”

  Ben Reynolds shook his head. “He’s driving down all the home values. The town tried to buy the house. We would’ve torn it down and donated the land to the state park.”

  Elissa glanced sideways at Sarah. What was that supposed to mean? Were they also considered undesirable tenants? The single mother with her daughter. The rusted Ford Bronco that sat out front. Sarah rested her hand on Elissa’s leg, sensing she might say something. “It does seem a little strange that he’d want to stay in the house,” Sarah tried, joining the conversation.

  The woman pulled off her sunglasses, revealing heavily made-up eyes. “The house where his parents were murdered. Maybe he’s crazier than his sister.”

  Elissa straightened up, having a hard time listening to this. Who were these people to judge Ryan Jacobsen—to judge her? “I can think of crazier things than living in the house you grew up in. What exactly happened?”

  The table fell silent. Tyler set down his fork. “The daughter, Carrie Anne, killed her parents.”

  “That part I know,” Elissa said, trying not to roll her eyes. “But where was Ryan?”

  “He didn’t live there. He lived with an aunt upstate.” Tyler swiped his sun-bleached hair off his forehead.

  “What happened to Carrie Anne after they were killed?” Elissa asked. She pushed back her plate, suddenly losing her appetite.

  Mr. Reynolds met her eyes. “There was a massive search for her. She drowned near the dam.”

  “But they never found her body,” Tyler jumped in. “Some people think she still lives in the woods.”

  Bonnie stood, dropping her plate in the trash. “Ignore him. That’s just an urban legend that he and his friends believe.”

  “There’s no way she could survive out there in the woods,” Jenny said, wiping her massive sunglasses on the edge of her pink polo shirt. The rhinestones on the sides glinted in the sun.

  Ben shook his head. “She had an accident outside—fell from the swings and never recovered. The girl was out of control. She’d have these horrible screaming fits. You could hear her all the way over here.”

  “Why wasn’t she in the hospital?” Elissa asked.

  “They were supposedly homeschooling her,” Ben Reynolds explained. Bonnie gestured to a maid standing by the back door, signaling for her to pick up the empty plates and glasses.

  Jenny let out a low, sarcastic laugh. “Right. They basically kept her tied to the radiator.”

  “Enough,” Bonnie said, an edge in her voice. “Can we please change the subject?”

  The table slowly broke into different conversations, some talking about the basketball game the night before, others speculating on when they’d finish the new restaurant at the end of main street. Elissa watched her mom push the remnants of her burger around her plate. There were so many questions about what happened in that house and what happened to that girl. But Elissa kept turning over the same ones: who was Ryan Jacobsen and how could he stand to stay there, day and night, alone?

  The sun was setting when they started back down the road. They could hear the sounds of the party receding behind them. Sarah clutched the empty bowl to her chest. “So, did that freak you out a little?” she finally asked, turning to Elissa.

  “Definitely—our neighbors suck. ‘Maybe we should burn his house down’?” She mimed quote signs in the air. “Real nice. I wonder where they keep their torches and pitchforks.…”

  Sarah went silent. Elissa knew it was impossible for her to deny it. Maybe the houses in this neighborhood were classy, but the residents were not. She couldn’t imagine what they were saying about them right now—this new single mother and her daughter renting the house down the road. They’d be horrified if they knew Sarah was a lowly X-ray technician at a hospital. If you didn’t have an MD, PhD, DDS, or Esq after your name, you might as well be dead.

  “Tyler seems pretty cool, though,” Sarah ventured.

  “Jury’s still out on that one.”

  They kept walking, starting up the long driveway toward their house. The woods were dark. As Sarah climbed the front steps, Elissa paused on the lawn, looking out beyond the trees. “Do you really think someone could live out there?” she asked.

  Sarah turned back, her gaze following Elissa’s. “No,” she said softly. “I don’t.” Then she turned into the house, flicking on the light in the foyer.

  Elissa just stood there, staring into the darkness. She had the strange feeling that someone was watching her. She had felt it this morning as well, when she brought the cushions out onto the back porch, arranging them on the chairs. She kept her eyes locked on a specific tree, studying a shadow behind it. She blinked, wondering if it was a trick of the light. She turned back toward the house, but the edgy feeling still followed her long after she was inside, the door closed and locked.

  Elissa got out of Tyler’s car, staring up at the mansion in front of them. She hadn’t wanted to come here. She’d phoned Sarah after school to finalize their plans— the first real quality time they’d spend together in… well, she couldn’t remember when. They were supposed to make Elissa’s signature Old Bay popcorn tonight (which tasted awesome but made your breath smell) and watch black-and-white movies on TCM. Sarah had called to bail a half hour before. Something about having to work the night shift at the hospital, being new, and not being able to say no. Part of it enraged Elissa, the fact that they’d come all this way to be the same people they were in Chicago. What was the point of Sarah spending so much time training as an X-ray technician if she was going to have the same hours as at her old bartending jobs?

  Tyler bounded up the front steps and into the house, signaling for Elissa to follow. The famine relief fund-raising meeting. What fun. He’d invited her here after finding her alone on the school quad. It had been that kind of day—alone in study hall, doodling on her notebook, alone in gym, standing in the outfield for softball practice. Alone at her locker, walking through the halls, alone, alone, alone. The thought of going home to an empty house was the only thing that brought her here. That, and she couldn’t help but admit that Tyler was just the tiniest bit attractive (in that traditional, he-could’ve-been-pickedout-of-a-catalog way).

  She pushed herself forward, following him into Caitlin Aberdeen’s wide kitchen. A few kids were playing video games in the living room, while a few others were drinking a pink concoction out of plastic cups. The smell of pot wafted in the air. “This is your famine relief meeting?” Elissa asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

  “Hell, yeah,” Tyler said, high-fiving a guy with bloodshot eyes. “Last year we gave twelve hundred dollars to a charity. It just came straight off my dad’s credit card instead of us having to beg people for change in the supermarket parking lot. We can party, no hassles, and put it down as community service on our college apps.”

  Elissa turned away, not sure whether to be disgusted or impressed. “I guess it does require a certain smarmy brilliance…” she allowed, staring at the crowd of kids. Maybe Tyler’s morals were lax, maybe he was like every other entitled rich kid she’d known, but this was still way better than sitting alone in her house, wondering if there was some deranged murderer prowling through the back woods.

  “Thank you,” Tyler said, bowing slightly. He poured some vodka and pink lemonade into a cup and pressed it into her hands. “Time to get our drink on.”

  Elissa’s head was light from the drinks. She jammed her thumbs into the video controller, steering the car away from Tyler’s, but it crashed into the metal guardrail. She looked around, noticing that the party crowd had slowly devolved into various pairings. A blond girl with a low-cut top was making out with some stoner in the corner. Another couple was sitting on the back porch. She stood quickly, dropping the controller into the couch. “I believe I lost again,” she said, taking
in Tyler’s red eyes, and the way he was half slumped on the arm of the couch. “Bathroom break.”

  She started up the stairs, holding the railing for support. When she got to the bathroom a redhead was hunched over the toilet, retching. “Sorry,” the girl said. She’d spilled a drink down the front of her tight blue T-shirt.

  “Are you okay? Do you need a ride home?” Elissa crouched down beside her.

  “I just want to rest,” the girl said, curling up on the thick bath mat. She wiped the sides of her mouth.

  Elissa studied the girl, trying to decipher just how drunk she was. She looked in better shape than most of the kids at the party, and whatever she had drunk had already gone into the toilet. Elissa turned the girl’s head to the side and folded a towel beneath it as a pillow, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. She’d check on her in twenty minutes, after she found another bathroom.

  She ducked back into the hall, moving past several doors, wondering how many bedrooms one house needed. Wasn’t Caitlin an only child? She started into the master bedroom, searching for another bathroom, when someone grabbed her from behind.

  “Hey!” she protested, and then she saw Tyler’s face.

  “Tyler, you’re wasted.” Elissa twisted, breaking free for a moment, but then he pulled her toward the bed. He tossed her down on the king-size mattress before he tripped, falling over the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

  “So? Where’s your humanitarian spirit?” He stood and lunged for her, pinning her down. He grabbed her right breast with his hand, squeezing it hard. “Ahhhh…there it is.” He laughed.

  Elissa turned quickly, elbowing him hard in the face. She pushed him off, running toward the door. She couldn’t get her cell phone out fast enough. “Awww…calling Mommy?” she heard Tyler whine. He was up, chasing her down the hall.