Phillips & Sanderson

Scott sat in his period three biology class and tapped his pen impatiently on the textbook in front of him. Tap tap tap, tap-tap taap, tap-tap taap. In his mind, he was picturing Darth Vader striding to the command center of the Imperial Death Star while the soundtrack played in time with the pen taps. None of his classmates had any idea of this, of course, and they shot dark looks at his annoying noises. He was oblivious until his friend Mark tossed an eraser in his face.

"What?" he hissed.

"Stop with the taps already!" several classmates hissed back.

"What's going on?" their teacher said. "You're supposed to be completing today's assignment. Do I need to add more work?"

"No, Miss Lewis," Mark said. "We're just asking Scott to stop tapping his pen."

"Scott, find a quieter way to finish the period, please," Miss Lewis said.

"Yes, Miss Lewis." Scott sighed. He'd completed his homework and was eager to get outside. It was late March and spring had finally arrived. Leading to the official first day of the new season, daytime high temperatures had been in the forties and fifties for more than a week, and he had plans for being outdoors. "Spring Fever" was real for Scott Phillips.

As a junior at Hampton High School, Scott participated in a special course in which he learned computer programming and web design. He was an avid photographer and baseball player, so spring was an ideal chance to play his sport, obtain awesome photos, and launch his own website and photography business. The gorgeous weather recently had him itching to be outside on days like this. And the added beauty of his computer course was it took place in period four, so he was allowed to leave early to get started on his projects.

Finally, the bell rang, and Scott was out of the room like a shot. Mark caught up to him in the hall and asked, "Where's the fire?"

"I can't wait to get outside and start taking pictures of spring, Mark! It's been so beautiful lately, and we've been cooped up for so long, and I'm just so tired of being stuck inside! Is that a problem for you?" Scott was aware he was whining a little, but he wasn't used to Mark giving him such a hard time.

"Yo, Scott, back down. It's no problem for me. I was just asking a question." Mark bristled slightly. "Look, we haven't hung out for awhile, and you just seem like you're wicked uptight. I'm not used to seeing you like that."

Scott was ashamed of himself for biting off Mark's head with his attitude. "I'm sorry, bro. I've been in this computer course and I've been developing a bunch of plans and stuff. I'm really excited and focused on that, and I just haven't been around. Sorry I bit your head off."

"Aw, no problem, bud. I know you gotta go, but let's hang soon, ok?" Mark gave Scott a bro hug and left.

Scott went to his locker to grab his gear for home. As he went down the hall to leave the building, he noticed that the bright sunshine from half an hour earlier was gone, and the sky looked ominously gray. A low moan escaped his lips when he checked his phone and saw that the temperature had plummeted from 48 F to 30 F. He stopped and pulled a hoodie from his backpack and slipped it over his head. Then he went to the exit and when he stepped out the door, he was dismayed to see snow flurries blowing around him. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

When he got to his car, it was already covered by a light dusting of snow. He climbed into the driver's seat and logged into his cell phone to check the weather forecast. "Sunny this morning with a high in the upper forties, becoming overcast in the early afternoon. Temperature will drop into the low thirties with snow showers developing by mid-afternoon. Expect snow to become heavier throughout the evening and into Friday morning. Overnight temperatures will be in the low twenties. Snow will continue until early Friday afternoon, heavy at times, with wind gusts up to 25 mph. Total accumulations expected between 10 and 16 inches."

Scott couldn't wrap his mind around it. So little snow all winter, and now that spring has sprung, we're getting one of the biggest storms of the season?? He had to laugh, at least a little, so he wouldn't cry. He was about to start the car and clear the windshield with the wipers when he thought, "I want a picture of this," so he pulled his camera from his backpack and snapped a quick photo of the snow covering his windshield. He hopped out and took another one of his whole car. Then he got in and drove home. Once he was there, he took a snapshot of the snowy road. He hopped back into his car and took another photo of the powdery flakes accumulating around him.

He experienced a few moments of uncertainty before picking up his phone and texting Mark. "You wanna hang here tonight? I doubt we'll have school tomorrow. We'll get pizza delivered, watch some movies, play FN or whatever." While he waited for his friend's reply, Scott grabbed his school gear and went into the house. Bzz! Bzz! His phone vibrated. It was Mark.

"Sure, but I need a ride."

"Be there in ten." Scott took a moment to put on jeans and a jacket and went back out to his car. It was already covered in an inch of snow, so he used his sleeves to brush it off and got on the road to Mark's house. Thankfully, his friend lived only four miles up from him, and he got there without incident, but he noticed that the roads were already getting slippery. He rang the doorbell and Mark's mom opened it.

"Hi, Scott! It's been a while since I've seen you. Mark's spending the night at your house, right? Please be careful with my baby boy," she teased lightly as she hugged Scott and then her son.

"I will, Mrs. Sanderson. You got everything, Mark? Need a hand?"

"Here, you mind carrying my gym bag? I'll carry the rest. Bye, Mom. Love you!"

The teens put the gear into Scott's car and climbed in to return to his house. "Wow, it's really coming down, isn't it? I hadn't realized how hard it was snowing. I got home from school and was just chillin' in my room when I got your text. Hadn't bothered to look outside at all," Mark said.

"Can you believe how warm it was this morning, only to turn to this crap?" Scott exclaimed. "I was soooo ready to get out in the spring weather today! I was practically h*rny for it... er, um...sorry," he stopped, embarrassed at his outburst.

Mark burst into laughter. "Bro! Did you just say you were h*rny for spring weather?? Is that why you were tapping your pen and being so annoying? To quote a famous actor on a popular comedy show, 'The pen-is mightier.' Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...lmao, bro! You're killin' me. Whoa! What was that?"

His laughter stopped abruptly as the car slid sideways and Scott fought for control. He regained it, but his breath was ragged from the sudden fright. "That was close. The sooner we get to my place, the better. This weather is crap. I told your mom I'd take good care of you, and I almost broke my promise just now. Sorry about that."

"Not your fault, Scott. You're right, this weather is crazy."

They rode in silence for the final mile. As Scott parked the car in his driveway, he noticed that the accumulation in his yard was already about three inches in the two hours since he'd left school. "Let's get your gear inside and then move some firewood into the house. I don't want to have to come outside again. This is getting nasty."

"All right. Sounds good to me. We might have to change our pizza delivery plans, though. I can't imagine anyone will want to drive in this stuff."

A Lousy Prank

"So, Scott, where are your parents, anyway? I forgot to ask if they were going to be here." Mark was sitting on the couch in the den after they had put his gear in Scott's room and brought in enough firewood for the next two days. They had also gotten the snow shovels from the shed to make sure they could clear the porch and driveway after the storm.

"Oh, I didn't tell you? They're on a cruise. They said I could have a friend over but I'd better not have a party, so when I realized that my spring-weather plans had fallen through, I wanted to spend my weekend with you instead of alone. It's like you said at school today, it's been a long time since you and I hung out. I want to do some photography this weekend, if I can, but I just won't be able to do as much as I'd hoped, or the type that I'd wanted, that's all." He snapped his fingers. "And I forgot that there are some frozen pizzas we can heat up. Not quite as good as the place up the road from you, but good enough for two hungry guys, right?"

"Your mom always stocks the freezer pretty good when she and your stepdad go away. What else is in there?" Mark asked.

"Let's take a look. C'mon," Scott replied, leading the way to the pantry. He lifted the lid to the chest freezer.

"What the hell is that??" they shouted in unison, slamming the lid shut. Mark puked on the floor as Scott vomited on the lid. Each wiped his mouth with a sleeve as they tried to pull themselves together. "What did we just see in there??" One of them said, as the other was saying, "Oh my god, what is going on??

They pulled each other by the arm and stumbled into the kitchen. Mark spoke first. "Wh-where's your phone, Scott? You know, the house phone your parents ha-have? Is it still here?" As he tried to speak, his stomach lurched again, and he just made it to the trashcan before he retched a second time. When he straightened up, he saw the landline handset on the wall in front of him, a rarity in twenty-first century America, but he was thankful the Phillips family had kept theirs. He lifted the receiver, heard the dial tone, and called 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"Uh, hi, uh, I'm at my friend's house and we just discovered...crackle, hiss, distortion...in the freezer."

"I'm sorry, sir, but your phone connection is bad and I missed what you said. Please give me the address and nature of your emergency."

"Um, yeah, I'm at ..crackle, crackle. hissss...tone. Hello? Hello? Dang it, I'm disconnected! Stupid storm!" Mark hung up in frustration, but then he realized he could try the call again. He picked up the handset and listened. Nothing. No dial tone. It was dead. That's odd. The whole reason to keep a landline is because even when the power goes out the landline still works, and the power's still on! He shrugged. Then he shivered. What the hell did we see in that freezer?? And where's Scott?

"Scott? Where'd you go?"

His friend returned to the kitchen with a hand towel. His face was wet, and he was wiping it dry. "Sorry, Mark. I had to clean up a little. Here's a towel for you, too. Did you get the phone to work? Oh, bummer."

"Oh, bummer? That's all you have to say, Scott? You're being a little casual considering what we saw in the freezer five minutes ago. I thought you said that your pa..."

Mark stopped when Scott put a finger on Mark's lips and said, "Shhhh.....they did. That's just my science project in there. It's not real."

"Then why did you ralph?"

"Because it's much more realistic than I thought it would be. I haven't looked at it in several days, and it surprised me. Plus, I have a really strong gag reflex. Once you upchucked, there was no stopping me." Scott started laughing. "You thought..you thought that was really my parents in the freezer?? Ha ha ha..hahahahahahahahahahahaaaa...aaa..oh, Mark! That's..that's a RIOT!" He moved toward the pantry door. "Come on, I'll show you."

Mark followed Scott at a distance as they went to the pantry again. As his friend opened the lid of the freezer, Mark kept a close eye on the images inside. Scott lifted the figures out easily, which convinced Mark that they were, in fact, just some kind of science project and not real cadavers. Still, the bile rose in his throat and the uncleaned mess in the pantry triggered his buick reflex, and all he had left from his stomach made its way to the outside of the freezer.

Scott snapped the lid shut to avoid sending his second jetstream of bile into it. If Mark hadn't given up for the third time, Scott would've been okay, but he realized his practical joke on his best friend had backfired on himself with the vomit-fest they'd had. He shook his head. He really hadn't thought this one through.

"What am I gonna do with that? I don't want to keep it in the freezer anymore, but I'm afraid to put it out in the snow."

"Put it outside anyway, Scott, but cover it with a tarp or something. God, that's nasty. What's it made of?"

"Putty, tomato paste, that sort of stuff."

"And you said it's a science project?"

"Kind of. It's also for photography class."

"That's sick shi, bro. Listen, I gotta get cleaned up, and then we need to clean up the pantry."

Forty minutes later, Mark was feeling better and the pantry had been cleaned up, including the outside of the freezer. He found some canned soup and was heating it on the stove when Scott returned from securing his project in the snow. "I'm sorry, Scott, but after giving back all my food from earlier, I didn't feel like a heavy meal. Soup and crackers are all I can take right now. There's enough for both of us."

"Thanks, Mark. I'm sorry I ruined our hang-out night. That was a horrible joke to play on you."

"I agree, but I accept your apology. Someday, after years of therapy, I'll look back on this and be able to laugh, probably. Who knows, maybe I'll pull a bad joke on you some time and get even with you." Mark smirked at Scott as he spoke to let him know there were no hard feelings. I have just the prank in mind for you, Scotty.

"Listen, Scott, the soup is ready, but I'm going to let it simmer if you want to get cleaned up before eating."

"Oh, that'd be nice, yeah. I'm gonna grab a shower, and while we eat you can tell me what happened to your truck. I've been dying to hear that story." Scott headed for the shower while Mark plugged in his phone to make sure it was charged before the storm got any worse. Then he went out to the porch to check how much snow had fallen. He estimated that since he'd arrived at the Phillips' home three hours earlier, six inches of powder had fallen, bringing the storm total to at least 8" since school let out. He was certain there'd be no school the next day.

When Scott had showered and returned for supper, the friends sat at the kitchen table to eat. There weren't any rules against eating in the den, but neither saw a need to take soup and crackers that far from the kitchen. If they wanted snacks later, that would be different. As they ate, Scott asked Mark about his truck.

"That was a 2015 Ram 1500, right?"

"Yeah. I really liked that truck," Mark said.

"So, what happened to it?"

"My older sister Lisa was moving to Tennessee and she needed a truck to carry a lot of her stuff, so my mom said she could use my truck."

Scott was shocked. "Your mom said Lisa could use it? Without even asking you?? Damn, that's cold."

"Well, to be fair, Mom had made a bunch of payments on it for me, Scott. It's not like she shouldn't have some say in who uses it. Yes, I was frustrated by her decision, but Lisa needed it, so that was that."

"Are you gonna get it back?"

"That was the plan. But after Lisa moved, it turned out that the job she moved for decided not to hire her after all, and she needed to keep the truck to find another position. By the time she found another job, she and my mom had worked out that Lisa would buy the truck from mom, and I'd have Lisa's car."

"So why did you need a ride from me today?" Scott was confused.

"Because when they made that deal, Mom's car still ran just fine. Then her car died and she took Lisa's old car. I'm left with bupkis." Mark shrugged. "I have to find a job that will make me enough money to get out from under their deals. They're always doing crap like that. Until I have my own steady income, I'm left out in the cold. Don't buy Mom's 'he's my baby boy' lines, Scott. She ain't no saint."

"But you said, 'love you, Mom' as we left!" Scott protested.

"If I don't put on the show around other people, she gets nasty later, and I can't afford to be dumped on my a$$."

"God, I had no idea, Mark. I'm so sorry! Geez, now I feel super awful about my prank." Scott's face was crestfallen over his friend's family situation, and the remorse he felt was real. Could I have been a bigger dick to him today? Wow, I've really been out of touch! What can I do to make it up to him?

"Aww, buddy, don't sweat it. You had no idea. No worries, man." Mark downplayed the guilt trip he'd just thrown at Scott as they got up from the table and put their dirty dishes in the sink. "Let's just go to the den and watch a movie already."

Turnabout is Fair Play

The friends settled on the couch to watch The Princess Bride, a favorite of theirs for years for its wry humor and memorable lines. While the film began, Mark pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began flipping through some pictures in his gallery.

"You know, Scott, you say you've been doing a lot with photography this year, but I still have pictures of you from freshman year at that party," he kept his voice casual and teasing to see if his friend would take the bait.

"What party? I didn't go to any parties freshman year. I was too nerdy," Scott replied.

"You sure about that, Scotty? Because I recall one where you got super-friendly with some other freshmen." Mark added a little giggle and said, "I was surprised because I thought that would be inconceivable for you. Like I said, I have pictures. And it wasn't just with other freshmen. There were some wise morons, too. Wanna see?" He was gratified to see some panic on Scott's face while he tried to recall how Mark could have such pictures because he knew he'd never been to a party that year.

"Why do you keep emphasizing 'men'? I've never been overly friendly with other guys. You know that." Scott was puzzled by his friend's comments, but he couldn't help himself. "Yeah, show me. Oh, my god."

Mark turned his phone toward Scott, whose jaw dropped. There was no doubt that it was his face in the pictures of a half-dressed student grinding against another one. "How did you...? Where did you...? That's not possible...How long have you had these pic...??" Scott was at a loss for words. "I don't remember acting like this at all!"

Scott sat in stunned silence as he considered what Mark might do with photographs like these. Were they friends, or had Mark been playing him for the fool all these years? Did Mark intend to blackmail him? Suddenly, all the dreams that had been surging through his heart and mind just eight hours earlier evaporated, replaced by a nightmare. "What do you expect me to do?"

A hand on his thigh and a whisper in his ear startled him out of his reverie. "For a young man who said he was 'h*rny' for spring a little while ago, and talks big about his photography class, you seem kind of deflated and unaware of what Photoshop can do. Come on, big boy, you disappoint me. I expected more out of you." As Mark spoke, he patted Scott's leg. Then he burst out laughing. "Revenge, Scotty! Oh, you should see your face!"

Scott wasn't amused. "Damn, Mark! That's not funny."

Mark kept grinning. "What do you mean, Scott? How could that not be funny after what you did to me? You made me believe your parents' bodies were in the freezer, for goodness' sake. All I did was put your face on someone else's image, and then place my hand on your leg and whisper in your ear. It's not my fault if you took it to mean something else." He chuckled for a moment. "Say, is there something you need to tell me, Scotty?"

"No! Not what you mean, anyway. Forget it."

"Geez, this whole day has gotten too frickin' weird. Maybe I should go home," Mark muttered.

"You can't," Scott said quickly. "I mean, please don't. Let's play some video games or something. No more stupid pranks, okay?"

"All right," Mark conceded. "Let me use the bathroom and then I'll be ready." He walked down the hall to do his business and checked his phone on his way back. He had a text notification that he opened. It was from the high school: "Due to current snowfall amounts and predicted conditions through Friday afternoon, there will be no school tomorrow. Be safe."

"Woohoo! Did you get the text, Scott? No school tomorrow!! Scott?" He looked around and didn't see his friend. "Oh, there you are! Did you get the text? No school...are you okay, Scott? What happened??"

Scott stumbled through the door from the porch holding a hand to the left side of his head. Blood seeped around his hand and trickled down his face. Mark hurried over to him and peered into his face. Scott looked dazed, and he was unsteady on his feet. Mark put his arm around Scott's waist and helped him to the kitchen. After getting his friend into a chair, he rummaged through drawers till he found a washcloth that he could use to clean up the cut on Scott's face. Then he got a bag of peas from the fridge freezer, wrapped them in a dish towel, and held them against his friend's head. The entire time he helped him, Scott didn't say a word. However, when Mark put the iced peas against his head, Scott leaned into them and mumbled, "Thank you, Mark. What would I do without you?"

Mark lifted Scott's left arm into position to hold the peas for himself while resting his friend's elbow on the table. Then he got up and went to the door to see what had happened to his friend on the porch. He was about to open the front door when Scott yelled, "DON'T GO OUT THERE!"

The terror in Scott's voice stopped Mark more than his words. "Lock the door, Mark! There's something out there!"

"Something, Scott, or someone?"

"I...I don't know for sure," Scott said weakly. "I went to check the snow levels when you got up to use the bathroom. I turned to come back into the house, and I was shoved against the post by the top step. I heard a growl, but I don't know if it was a person, an animal, or what. It could've been me groaning in pain, for all I know, but I don't think it was. I'm freaked out. Please don't go out there, bro."

"Bro, this better not be one of your pranks."

"It's not. I told you, no more pranks." There was something in Scott's voice that told Mark this was true fear, and he let down his guard. This guy's been my friend for years. Today's been bizarre, for sure, but he's just been injured. I think it's time to stop being suspicious of everything he does.

"Okay, bud. Let's do something more interesting and less weird. Do you have any ice cream? I'm suddenly craving it."

"Yeah, it's in the freezer in the pantry. I'll get it."

"No, that's okay. You sit tight with your bag o' peas." Before Scott could object, Mark jogged down the hall to the pantry. He lifted the lid and froze.

"Y'know, Mark, you need to learn to let your host get stuff for you." Scott stood behind him. "That way you don't stumble into situations like this, though I do commend you for keeping your supper down this time. Please close the lid before everyone...I mean, everything, melts." He laughed. "Come on, buddy. I'll get the ice cream. Wait for me in the den."

A few minutes later, Scott joined Mark in the den. He had two pints of ice cream and two spoons. "Which flavor do you want, peanut butter cup or chocolate?"

"Peanut butter cup, please. Thanks." Mark took the pint, opened it, and began eating. "Mmm, this is good."

"I'm surprised, Mark. You're not freaking out this time. What's different?" Scott queried.

"I was shocked, sure, but then I just realized you hadn't put them out in the snow, after all, and it was just your science experiment in there." He shrugged. "Nothing to freak out about, right?"

Scott just nodded with a smirk. "Right." He glanced at his watch. "Eight-thirty. Is that all? This is the weirdest-frickin' day this year. Spring, my ash!"

"Are you ready to lose in Fourteen Days?" Mark asked, picking up a controller. "I've been playing a lot since the last time we did this."

"Lose? Moi?" Scott mocked while gesturing to his chest with his right hand. "Never! Practice or not, I'll hand you your ash, Sanderson." He laughed and squeezed Mark's face. "And no running away crying this time!"

"I did not run away crying last time!" Mark protested. "I sneezed and my eyes were watery!"

"Potato, Potahto," laughed Scott. "Let's play!"

Ninety minutes later, the teens set their controllers aside. "Wow, that was fun," Mark said, "even if I only won three out of seven games. That's still better than I used to do against you." He reached over and patted Scott's cheek. "You're losing your touch, Scotty boy," he chuckled. "But you're still the champ," he added.

Scott laughed. "Just can't keep your hands off me, can you, Phillips? Am I really that alluring?" He smirked at his best friend. "How long have we known each other, six years? You never touched me before today, and suddenly you're all over me. Maybe you're the one with secrets to spill? Hahahahahaha!"

"In your dreams, Scotty," Mark said. "I'm pooped. Where am I sleeping tonight?"

"Crapping out already??"

"Hey, it's been a long day, buddy, and we have all day tomorrow, too. 'Early to bed, early to rise, ya know.'" Mark stood up and Scott followed suit.

"You can have the guest room across from mine," Scott said. He led the way and they took turns using the upstairs bathroom to get ready for bed. "Good night, Mark. See you in the morning."

"Night, Scott. Sleep well."

A Power Play

Mark closed the door to his room and looked for a way to lock it. There was none, but he pulled a heavy piece of furniture over and blocked the door.

I don't know what is wrong with Scott, but today was too bizarre for me to sleep well if he can get in here during the night, and with this storm, there's no way for me to get home safely. He thinks I don't want to be home, anyway, but I told him those things just to make him feel guilty for scaring me. There's no way that what I saw in the freezer this evening was the same as the model he had in there this afternoon. This kid is off his ever-lovin' rocker, and his parents aren't on a cruise. They're on ice, and he's either their killer or he's covering for the killer.

My cellphone isn't getting a signal anymore. I don't know if that's due to the snowstorm or if he's blocking my signal somehow. Otherwise, I'd notify the police and try to get rescued from this crazy situation. I wonder... . Mark fell asleep before he finished his thoughts on the matter.

Mark was awakened by a thunderous pounding on and shouts outside his bedroom door. "MARK! MARK! ARE YOU OKAY?? WAKE UP, MARK!!"

It took the Sanderson teen about two minutes to recall his surroundings and reply. "YES, I AM FINE! WHAT'S GOING ON? JUST A MINUTE!" he hollered in return. He moved the heavy chair out of the way to open the door. Scott was waiting for him in the hallway.

"Bro! what took you so long?"

"I was sound asleep, Scott. I'm sorry. What's going on?"

"The power went out, and I heard you yelling. Are you okay? Why couldn't I get into your room?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, bud. I must've been having a nightmare, and after hearing about something being outside, I was afraid of it somehow getting inside, so I blocked my door. I've never been a big fan of the dark." Mark did his best to sell his response to Scott, who seemed to buy it. Not only did Scott buy it, but he reached out and pulled Mark in for a bro hug.

"Dude, I'm so sorry! That's rough. I used to have stuff like that happen to me, too, especially when my stepdad... never mind. Not important right now."

"Scott, do we need to build fires in the woodstoves since the power is out?"

"I did that already. I was coming upstairs from that when I heard you. It sounded like something from how your mom's been treating you. Dude, have you talked to the school counselor? They'll help you, you know."

Mark shook his head. "No, I, um, I...don't think I should."

His friend insisted. "You need to talk to someone, Mark. It's not right for your mom to treat you like that! Listen, can I tell you something, you know, private? I've talked with the school counselor and gotten a lot of help."

Mark's eyebrows shot up. "You have? Why?"

"Let's go sit in here," Scott gestured to Mark's room, "and I'll tell you more about it. And then maybe you won't try to keep me from entering your room. I'm not stupid, Mark, and I'm not a killer, either. We've been best friends for six years. Please hear what I have to say. I think you'll understand when I've told you everything."

The friends sat on the bed side by side and leaned against the headboard while Scott told Mark the situation that had unfolded in his life in recent years.

"My dad left when I was 8. The divorce was finalized by the time I was nine, and he didn't come around, but I had his cell phone number. He never called, never texted. I'm not even sure why Mom gave me his number, but she did. Maybe she felt I was supposed to have it. Whatever. It's not like he was part of my life.

"After my parents' divorce, my mom met this guy at work. They dated for almost a year and then got married. He seemed nice, but there was something about him that wasn't right, though I couldn't put it into words. Long before they got married, I told my mom that something was wrong with him, but since I couldn't explain what I meant, she ignored me and told me to 'grow up.' I was 10 when they married and not exactly mature enough to express my concerns articulately. By the time I could do that, Mom no longer believed anything I said.

"He couldn't wait to groom me. I resisted every attempt he made, but he didn't stop trying. I tried to tell my mom what he was doing, but he sweet-talked her and twisted everything into the idea that I was trying to do inappropriate things with him, not the other way around. He said it was because I'd grown up without a father and had the wrong idea about love from a man.

"I quickly figured out that there was nothing I could say that she would believe, and they searched my room regularly for any evidence I tried to collect about his behavior and then threw it away. That taught me to keep my evidence at school. One day sophomore year, during a random locker search for drugs, school officials found my notes and I was called in to meet with a counselor. When I explained that I couldn't keep my notes at home because my parents would throw them away, they didn't believe me.

"They reported me to my parents, who gave me hell for my efforts. Do you remember when I was out for ten days last year? Yeah, I know I said it was for a family vacation, but they beat me so bad I couldn't be seen in public until I healed up. I took selfies and sent them to my dad, but since he doesn't care about me, either, I figured he ignored them or deleted them.

"Well, earlier this year, two of my teachers showed interest in my life--real interest, not creepy interest--and got me to sign up for the photography and career development course. They began to notice things that weren't right, and they helped me meet with a better school counselor than the one from last year. I finally began to get the help I needed. And that's been great.

"What's not great is that when I got home from school on Monday, I saw a truck in the yard that I hadn't seen in years. It was my dad's. Now, that was the day my mom and stepdad were supposed to leave on their cruise, and I assumed they'd left while I was at school, but I had no idea why Dad's truck was in the yard.

"To make matters worse, my project had been moved out of the freezer and it was melting on the porch. I got out of my car and ran to move the project back to the freezer. When I reached for the project, Dad called out and told me not to move it. 'The freezer's not available right now,' he said. 'You can move your project in a little while. Why don't you run to the store and get some pints of ice cream for later?'

"When I returned from the store, Dad's truck was gone. He'd left a note saying I could put the project back in the freezer, which I did. I didn't see him again until yesterday. He stopped by to say he was going to need the freezer again for a couple of hours in the evening and to make sure we didn't see what he put in there. Unfortunately, when you went to get the ice cream... ." Scott's voice trailed off.

Mark couldn't wait any longer. "So those were your parents' bodies in there! I knew it! Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They treated me like crap and got what they deserved. Unfortunately, I have to report my dad to the police." Scott's lower lip trembled.

"But did you see your dad put the bodies there?"

"No."

"Did you see him move them?"

"No."

"Then all you have is conjecture." Mark punched a finger in the air. "Your dad said he needed to use the freezer. He didn't say what for. You're assuming it was for dead bodies. It could've been someone else that moved them."

Scott was unconvinced. "I dunno, Mark. Who else could it be?" He snapped his fingers. "Wait. Who shoved me outside last night?" He shivered. "Oh my god, Mark. What the hell is going on?!" He leaned over and buried his face in his friend's shoulder. Mark hesitantly reached around Scott and half-hugged him.

"We'll figure it out, Scott. Please don't go crazy. I don't know what to do with Insane Scott, okay?"

Scott sat up again and smiled weakly. "Okay. But I'm going to need your help."

Mark flashed double thumbs-up. "You got it, broski. By the way, what does your dad's truck look like? Your parents were already divorced when I met you, and I don't remember seeing it."

"It's a 1986 Ford F150 4x4. That thing can drive through anything, man. This storm stops everybody else, but not Dad in that truck. What's the matter? You not feeling well?" Concern creased Scott's face as Mark's visage paled.

"What, uh, color is it?" Mark knew he didn't have to ask, but he did, anyway.

"Black, with a red stripe down the side. Why, have you seen it?" Scott was curious. "You have, haven't you." This time it wasn't a question. "Where?"

Mark's voice was very small. "At my house."