shadows_ebook-46

Dakota studied her work in the mirror. Not as good as Hannah would’ve done, but not bad for an amateur. She’d blown out her hair, even used one of the fancy styling products Hannah had left behind. But most importantly, she’d dyed it a vibrant rose gold again. She only wished changing her mood was that easy. Inside, she still felt like sad, faded pink.

Gus scratched at the bathroom door, and she let him inside, grateful for some company. He plopped onto the rug with a sigh, gazing up at her with his doleful brown eyes.

“Fifteen kinda sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked him. “I know you were fifteen a long time ago and probably don’t remember. Dog years and all. But trust me. Major suckage.”

He cocked his head. Like he was contemplating her statement. Before the debacle of this summer, she’d planned to spend her birthday with Hannah at Six Flags, riding their new coaster and stuffing her face with way too much cotton candy and funnel cake. Instead, she’d be going to a lame dinner at some hoity-toity restaurant with parents who could barely stand to be in the same room. She hadn’t even heard from Hannah. Such was the state of her universe.

About time. After he’d eaten a few bites of birthday pancakes and kissed her on the forehead—Happy birthday, sweetheart—her dad offered up some excuse about meeting with his attorney and slunk out the door. Like the weasel he was.

“Big week for him this week.” That’s how her mother had explained it. Or excused it.

Dakota slipped into the simple black dress she’d worn for eighth-grade graduation—depressing how it still fit—and twirled for Gus. “Mom’s gonna freak,” she whispered to him, crouching to his level. He nearly caught her nose with his wet tongue.

Dakota opened the door to her mother lingering in the hallway mirror, pinning diamond studs in her ears. She’d really gone all out. Red dress by Trina Turk, Manolo pumps, Louie clutch. The earrings Dad had bought her last Valentine’s. Same frown though, spoiling it all.

“Jesus, Dakota. Did you really have to dye it again? School’s starting in a few weeks, and you know how strict Napa Prep is about stuff like this.”

She shrugged. “What about Drake Gunderson? He dyed his black with white streaks and nobody cared.”

“Exactly. The school just let it slide.” She joined her mom in the mirror, making a goofy face. Tongue out, eyes crossed. Nothing. Not even a smirk. “At least I didn’t get a tattoo.”

“Not funny. If you get a tattoo, I’m taking you straight to Napa State Hospital and admitting you myself.”

Dakota laughed. “Are there any patients like Hannibal the Cannibal? Because that’d be cool.”

Finally, the glacial surface of her mother’s face cracked. “Just keep Hannibal the Cannibal under wraps at dinner, okay? Your dad doesn’t know I gave it to you. And he’s got enough on his plate right now.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Mom. He probably doesn’t like liver with his Chianti anyway.”

Dakota had to hand it to her parents. They put on a good show for the patrons at Bouchon. Her dad even managed a compliment halfway through dinner—Those earrings look great on you, Mol—which lit her mother up like a Christmas tree. It was almost like old times, the three of them. When the cake arrived—a perfect little mound of chocolate drizzled with more chocolate and topped off with shavings, also chocolate—Dakota could see the light at the end of the tunnel. It looked a lot like a birthday candle.

Her dad cleared his throat and raised his glass for the annual birthday toast. “Fifteen years ago, right about now, you arrived in the world and made our family complete. We’re so proud of you, sweetie. Pink hair and all. I know it hasn’t been an easy summer—we’ve all struggled—but it’s going to get better from here on out. Your mom and I hope this gift will be the start of a great fifteenth year.”

Dakota opened the envelope he’d placed beside her plate. Inside the standard birthday card, she found a slick brochure plastered with smiling teens rappelling down the side of a rock face. Dakota’s hands shook as she read.

Young adults face a unique set of challenges in our fast-paced society. Inundated with images from television and social media and lofty expectations from parents, friends, and teachers, teens often struggle with depression, anger, low self-esteem, and anxiety. At Starry Sky, we go back to basics, using a strengths-based approach and the healing powers of nature to ensure that teens grow into happy, successful, and independent adults. Starry Sky treats young men and women, ages twelve to eighteen.

Dakota tossed the brochure at her mother and watched it flutter to the ground. “What the hell is this? You’re sending me away?” The words were out and wreaking havoc before she could contain them. Heads turned at the tables around them. Her father lowered his voice to a threatening growl.

Faking a smile for the onlookers, her mother retrieved the brochure. “It’s only for two weeks before school starts. You’d be back by the third of September, right in time to start school on Monday. We just want to be sure you’re solid, especially going into swim season. This place comes highly recommended.”

She pointed to the shiny, well-adjusted models on the cover with their put-on excitement. “Look. It’ll be an adventure. Plus, your dad and I need a little time to . . .”

Her mother’s hands stirred the air between them. As if a gesture could explain the totality of this ambush. On her birthday, no less.

“Great. So I’ll be learning to make fire and bury my poop while you and dad figure out your marriage. I’ll save you the trouble. He’s cheating on you. I saw him on prom night. There you go. Problem solved.”

Dakota thought she’d feel relieved, stunning her parents into silence with her revelation. Casting it off like a straitjacket. Instead, her chest ached. Like she’d held her breath too long at the bottom. When the waiter came over to ask if they needed any help, Dakota inhaled before she answered.

Dakota saved her tears for later. After her dad paid the tab. After the funeral-quiet car ride home. After they’d all retreated to their respective corners. She buried her face in Gus’s fur until a wet spot formed on the side of his stomach, darkening his golden hair.

The buzz of her phone—a text from Liv—drew her back to the land of the almost-living.

Hannah had released a new vlog—Guys Want To Be Hot Too—featuring her newest subject, Tyler Lowry. Dakota watched as Hannah styled his hair—fauxhawked, slicked back, spiky, and mussed. At the end, Hannah perched atop Tyler’s lap and turned to the camera. “So, guys, put a little effort in. I promise it’ll pay off.” Then she pressed her lips to Tyler’s, leaving him breathless and red-lipped.

Dakota wished she could hate Tyler. But that she saved for Hannah. And it sat like a hot coal in her stomach, demanding release.

She scrolled to the bottom of the video and typed a comment in all caps. Then she copied it, pasted it, and pasted it again. Until her fingers got tired.

Dakota jolted awake, her face mashed against the screen of her cell phone, which glowed as bright as a curtainless window. Telling her two things: It was 1:30 a.m. And she’d missed two calls and thirteen texts. From Liv and from the group chat at Napa Prep.

She opened Liv’s string first, dread growing as fast as a poison weed in her chest, tightening around her heart.

The last text linked back to the group chat, forty-five members strong. Most of them Tyler’s lacrosse buddies. At midnight, he’d sent out the photo. Of her. The one she’d deleted. He must’ve saved it somewhere.

But the photo had been altered. She could guess by who. Because Tyler couldn’t photoshop his way out of a paper bag.

Dakota’s face, all pouty and seductive and coached by Hannah, sat atop a very naked body. Definitely not hers. It could’ve been, though, with the budding breasts and the swimmer’s shoulders. Even the summer tan lines were perfectly placed. A nice touch that left no doubt. This was Hannah’s handiwork.

Tyler had written: PSA on Dakota Roark: Total psycho, flat as a board. Hard pass.