The Girl Next Door by J.R. Rogue

Author:J.R. Rogue
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rogue Books

I walked Kyrie home, the silence deafening, surrounding us like a thick fog in the night.

Before we left the trailer park, I’d grabbed a flannel from my trailer and offered it to Kyrie. She took it, pulling the fabric close around her. I knew she was stewing on her thoughts, her convictions, and conflicting emotions. Maybe regretting our new, strange group of friends.

Finally, when her house was in view, she spoke. “I’ve lived here my whole life, Nicholas. Hart Hollow is all I know. And, it’s not always enough. Sometimes I want to run away just like the other girls. Where I can be myself, without my parents telling me who I should be.”

I glanced at her and asked, “Who do they tell you should be?”

Kyrie sighed. “My mom wants me to be just like her. I think maybe so she’ll feel better about her life. She wants me to settle down with a nice man, maybe with a farm, and he’ll decide to preach the word of the Lord like my father. I’ll come over to my parents’ house on Sundays, and we’ll make pies together after morning sermons.”

“Do you think your father wants you to be like your mother?” I asked.

“Yes. Because then I’ll be manageable. He can understand me if he can control me. But I’m not like her. I don’t like the things she does. Not all of them …”

“Do you think the other girls felt the way you do? And they really ran away?” I asked, eyeing the perfect flowers in Kyrie’s yard in the distance, the pristine lawn. Everything about her life seemed perfect to me in comparison to the checkered history of my own, and all the things I could never tell my friend.

“I thought that was a possibility,” she said. “Because I could understand it. It was always there, just under the surface, that same feeling I thought they must have felt. And I thought, good for them, when my father lamented their wildness.” She laughed, sad and lost somewhere.

“And now?” I asked.

“I-I don’t know. The dreams, the nightmares. I just. I wonder if they felt it too.”

“Well, maybe we can find that out. Is it only the daughters of pastors? Or is it—”

“Is it just them who get noticed? Who get missed?” Kyrie interrupted, finishing my question.

“Yeah,” I said.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess we can find out. Let’s add it to the investigation list.” She sounded almost amused by our mission, like perhaps deep down she was enjoying it.

“You can handle being around them? The trailer park kids?” I asked, smirking.

Kyrie smiled in return and said, “It’s not that … it’s not … I don’t know. Maybe I should be nicer.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be?” I joked. Unfortunately, the joke didn’t land, and Kyrie whirled on me.

“Yeah, it is what I’m supposed to be. No personality. Nothing beyond the good little church girl. I changed that with you.” She waved a hand at me.

I jerked my head back. “With me?”

“Didn’t you know? Girls and boys can’t be friends.

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