by Tara Brown
Lainey nodded, still squinting like a nerd. “It was scary. Sage was spacey and weird for like two hours after we got home.”
“GHB? Did it wear off fast?” Vincent narrowed his gaze and cocked an eyebrow. His green eyes seemed to be focused on me, like I knew something about it.
I squeezed my lips tight, fighting the urge to admit aloud to the fact that he was the only one in our midst who might use date rape drugs. “I don't know.”
Sierra nodded. “It did.”
I turned back to the house. “Lainey, let me get your glasses. They’re still in my room.” I hurried into the house and up the stairs.
When I got to my room, I paused in the doorway. It looked different.
There were ghosts here now.
A vision of Rachel walked by my bed, berating me for kissing the German exchange student, Gunter. She smiled and laughed at me, shaking her head. I couldn't hear her. I didn't need to. I remembered how it all went.
“Lindsey, you are a six. Your personality would make you a five, but your wealth and connections bump you up to a seven at best. That exchange student is a nine for sure, just based on looks. His father, being who he is, makes Gunter a ten, maybe an eleven. That’s out of your league.” She dropped to her knees, lifting my chin. “I just don't want to see you get hurt.”
I stood there, remembering exactly how bad she had made me feel. The bitterness still rotted away inside me.
She was a bitch. A horrible bitch. She had treated me like garbage my entire life. I dropped to my knees, crying out when my knee hit the ground. I sobbed, staring at the room, freeing myself of any guilt I might have over not mourning her death properly.
She was never a friend of mine, and she treated the people I loved the most even worse.
I sobbed, holding my face and letting the guilt slide down my cheeks in the form of tears. They were not for her. They were for me. I could finally grieve the terrible way she had treated me—no, bullied me. I was free of her and I was ashamed I felt that way.
Warmth surrounded me as arms wrapped themselves around my waist and back. I shook, letting the person holding me think I was crying for Rachel.
It didn't matter that I wasn’t.
A hand brushed my hair and lips, and delicately placed soft kisses caressed my forehead. The breath was different but the rest of the feeling was too familiar.
I opened my eyes, immediately tensing and pushing Vincent away from me. But he was stronger than I was and held me to him. “Let me console you. I know you’re sadder than you want anyone to know, my sweet princess Lindsey.”
“No.” I shook my head, sniffling and struggling to get away. “I don't want you to do this. Sage is one of my best friends. And you are a pig. And for the last damned time, I am not a princess.”
He let out a slight chuckle and looked down, only smiling with one side of his mouth. “Sage and I aren’t together, Linds. We haven’t been for about three weeks. Maybe four. Maybe even five.” His gaze narrowed like he was counting.
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yeah, five weeks.” He nodded indifferently. “I broke up with her at the beginning of summer. She asked me not to tell anyone. She wanted me not to and I honestly didn’t care.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I had no response. He stood, brushing off his dark chinos and dress shirt. “If you require anything at all, I will do it for you with no questions asked. Whatever you need, come to me. I really need you to know that I mean it. I would do anything for you.” He gave me a look, a weird one I didn't understand, and then he turned and walked away.
I might have said it was the weirdest two minutes I had ever spent with someone, but last night was always going to top that. Forever.
Or so I thought.
I grabbed Lainey’s glasses from my dresser and carried them downstairs, still weirded out by the hug and strangely sincere words I’d gotten from Vincent. I took a breath, grateful for the swelling and random tears still sitting in my eyes, and walked out onto the patio. At least I seemed as though I was grieving my friend.
As soon as I got outside, I saw that my father was back. He was hugging Louisa because she relished in the drama. His eyes darted to me and he appeared drained. I lifted my hand in a stupid wave. He nodded and let go of Louisa, walking to me. He wrapped himself around me and whispered, “We need to talk.”
I agreed. “Okay. Let me just give Lainey her glasses. She’s blind as a bat.” I pulled away from him and hurried to Lainey, handing her the thick black frames. She placed them on and blinked, shaking her head. “These aren’t mine.” She hauled them back off.
“What? Those are yours. They were the only glasses in my room.”
She lifted her swollen eyes and squinted. “I think I know my own glasses, Linds. These aren’t them.”
I took them back and put them on, realizing they were clear glass. I turned and looked back up at my bedroom window, confused about why I had glasses that matched hers, but they had no prescription in them.
I took them off and clutched my hand around them, walking back to my father and leaving Lainey to talk more with Andrew, Sierra, Vincent, and Jake.
“I’m going to take a nap. I need to lie down before the gala.” Louisa clicked inside with her ridiculous heels. She leaned in and kissed my father on the cheek before retiring for the afternoon.
Her words floated about in my empty head, but when I managed to make sense of them I peered up at my father in disgust. “Gala?”
He flashed a look, one suggesting we weren’t negotiating on this.
“Dad, you guys can’t seriously go ahead with the gala?” My voice raised, piquing the interest of my friends. They stopped talking and my dad sighed, more like seethed.
“Of course we will go ahead with the gala. The Swanson family wants us to. They want the diversion created by all of us and the gala.”
“Dad, Rach—our friend just died! We can’t be expected to party and smile politely.”
His face didn't change. He wasn't negotiating. “And yet, you are.” He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me inside, squeezing harder than he ever had. He pulled me through the games room and into the kitchen. He shoved me against the counter and shook me. “Do you have any idea what I have been through? Do any of you girls understand what has happened? You were reckless and careless, and one of your friends is dead because of it!”
I nodded in shock. “I know.”
His face contorted and his eyes were on fire with fury. But it all died there in a seething ball of rage. Because a moment later, he collapsed into me, hugging and crying. I hugged him back, again weepy and sniffling. My arms burned where he had squeezed them and my chest hurt from all the crying.
I had to remind myself that he understood better than any of the other parents. He had seen us right afterward. He comprehended better than anyone that one of his best friends had lost his little girl, and we were very close to joining her.
He wiped his face and pulled back after a minute. “The family has asked that we carry on with the gala and take some of the focus off them in their time of grieving. I think we can all do that. I think we can be a little selfless in this and do that for them. No matter how hurt we are, they are incomparably worse off.” He stood and wiped my face. “We will all wear black and we will all mourn, but we will do it with class and grace because that is who we are. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded, biting my lip and desperate to ask the real questions burning in my brain—my evil, overly focused brain. “How is Sage?”
“Sage and Rita were both drugged—GHB is what the doctor said. He said it was completely different than the normal GHB. It was intended to wear off quicker, giving the possible rapist only about a forty-minute window.” He looked like he might gag when he said rapist.
I recoiled in horror. “Were they raped?” That hadn’t even crossed my mind. Of course finding Sage next to Rachel’s dead body was fairly distracting. But then standing there, it made sense that they m
ight have been. Maybe Rachel had fought the rapist off but died as a result, and maybe all of that happened while Sage was unconscious. Which would have then given the killer a lot of free time with Sage. Why else did people drug girls at a party?
“No, of course not. Both girls were checked and neither had been assaulted.” His dark-blue eyes, the ones that matched mine perfectly, narrowed. “I don't understand your generation. I don't understand drugging someone for sex. In my day you bought a girl a drink, and if she liked you, you got lucky. If she didn't, all you had wasted was a couple of bucks. We certainly didn't drug girls to have our way with them like you kids.”
I scowled. “Dad, I don't drug girls to have sex with them—”
“Is this it then—is this the time you come out of the pantry and confess? You have to do it now?” His eyes widened as he cut me off.
“What? What pantry? No, I don't know.” I was lost.
He slammed his fist on the counter. “Lindsey Marie, dammit, this is not the time nor the place to be so self—”
“Linds, princess?” Vincent called randomly from the hallway past the kitchen, like he had lost his puppy and she happened to have my name.
I squeezed my eyes shut and begged the gods of everything good that he would vanish, but he came up right behind my dad. “Oh hey, there you are. Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Bueller, but I need to make sure Lindsey and I match for tonight.”
My dad stopped his outburst with a mid-rant pause, as an unsatisfied look crested his face.
Vincent leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and wrapped his arms around me. “You okay?”
I shook my head. I was still incredibly lost but the truth was, I was not okay. I might never be okay again.
He tilted my face and smiled down on me, offering something of a wicked grin but perhaps softer. “So both of us black then, maybe a red rose lapel?”
“White was her favorite.” The words sort of slipped from me.
And then, without asking my permission, he brushed his lips softly on mine, hovering there long enough that I closed my eyes and let him kiss me. He stayed so long I forgot I hated him.
There was a smell that I liked. Deodorant, sweat, and cologne. There was a reaction in my stomach, a tightening that made my knees weak and my heart beat faster. I liked it all.
He pulled back and offered his hand to my father. “I will pick her up at seven and have her home by midnight, and not take my eyes off her once.”
My father looked like he too might kiss Vincent. He took his hand and then ended up in a one-armed embrace. He winced like he might cry again.
I was lost. Very lost.
Vincent patted my father on the back and walked out, offering me a single wave and a sly grin.
My dad hugged me, kissing the side of my face. “Oh, thank God. I was so worried you were gay.”
“What?” The whole thing hit then. The pantry was the closet, and I was the cast member of Orange is the New Black.
Vincent had been eavesdropping. My father had thought I was confessing my sexuality, and Vincent used it all as a great opportunity to save me from my dad so he could torture me all night long. I was officially in hell.
“The short hair and the not wanting to date and not caring how you looked. I assumed—”
“DAD! Gay people don't always have short hair, and they care about how they look. I’m just lazy and not interested in boys.”
His eyes narrowed back to the evil look.
“Except Vince, obviously,” I forced myself to say.
“That’s good. Vince is a good guy.” He nodded against the side of my face and sighed. “And this—this makes me happy. You and him. No wonder you’ve been so hush-hush about it. Sage is still madly in love with him. I honestly thought they were still an item. She was devastated when he didn't come to the hospital.”
“Is she all right, Dad?” I didn't want to talk about me and Vince. I wanted to kill Vince, but he was the only thing saving me from a “Pray the Gay Away” bible retreat.
“No.” He shook his head and pulled back, wiping away a rogue tear. “Sage is far from all right. She won’t be coming tonight. Her family is with Rachel’s. They are all going to be together tonight.” He narrowed his gaze. “Have you seen Ashton?”
I bit my lip, not sure what to say. “No.” I didn't know why I lied. I supposed it was the way he had asked, like there was a motive behind it or Ash was in trouble.
“He hasn't come home and no one has seen him since he left the party. Some are fearing he is either dead along with her or he killed her.”
“He didn't.” I shook my head with absolute certainty. “I’m sure he’s just sad and wanting to be alone. He broke up with her that night.” I swallowed hard. “He left the party long before any of us. He didn't kill her. He just wanted to be away from her. He dumped her and took her car, the Benz, and left the party. I saw him.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that's good then. The police are asking for him. I hope he turns himself in before they have to look for him.”
“Are they at Rachel’s right now?”
“Yes. They have the entire yard under scrutiny as we speak. The family is cooperating and they are certain they will have this all solved straightaway. When Dick Swanson phoned me this morning to find out what had happened to you all, he sounded strong. He was certain whoever had drugged the girls was just trying to get lucky with one of you and Rachel was the unlucky one.”
I nodded like a zombie might, agreeing but not agreeing at all.
His eyes darkened a little as he furrowed his brow. “But I think you and I both know that's not what happened. I have a terrible suspicion this has nothing to do with rape and more to do with the fact Sage was put next to Rachel. Almost as if the killer wanted it to look like the two of them had fought and Sage had killed Rachel. Everyone at the party remembers seeing Rachel and Sage fight. They remember that Ashton broke it off with Rachel. We need to make certain no one finds out the truth that Sage’s unconscious body was there with Rachel—ever.”
He was handling all of this too well. And he had Hendricks on speed dial. That told me my father had cleaned up messes before.
“What about Sierra’s guesthouse?”
“Cleaned, completely. Being refurnished as we speak.” His eyes told me not to ask any more questions and for once I listened. “Our best hope is that Rachel’s body comes back with some sort of rape evidence. I hate to say it, but it’ll clear the rest of you.”
I sighed and hugged him, needing to feel safe for just a moment.
Chapter Ten
Kick in the nuts and kiss on the cheek kind of night
My black dress was a repeat I had worn to a celebration of life last year. It was fancy but not too fancy: a simple gown with an empire waist and off-the-shoulder sleeves that were a little too ruffled for my taste. But I hadn’t bought the dress. I never bought dresses. Having a personal shopper meant never really shopping when it was decided you had no actual taste. When it was left up to me, I bought comfortable clothing. Louisa called them my grubbies and they were only permitted when I was working or bumming around the beach, but I snuck out with them on all the time.
My eyes darted to Sierra in the mirror. She moved like a robot, applying Erase Paste to her eyes and cheeks to try to hide the puffiness and the reddening. She reminded me of a dead princess in her black gown and her haunted stare. An Ophelia if she were floating in a pond maybe.
“Can you tell I’ve been bawling all day?” Lainey asked as she gave me a look, blinking and suffering through the contacts she was wearing. “These things are killing me. My eyes are so dry from crying.” She blinked again, getting one eyelid a bit stuck for a second.
“You look lovely,” I offered. She did. Her dress was short and poufy, showing off her slim legs and gorgeous black shoes. Her mother had shown up with the outfit. Her makeup was a bit much, but it always was when her mother did it.
“Sage isn’t coming,” I said before I recalled already
having said it.
They both nodded, exactly as they had when I said it the first time.
“We should go see her after the party,” I suggested as I turned around again, looking at the back of the dress.
Sierra glanced up at me. “You’re going with Vincent. She isn’t going to want to see you.”
My jaw dropped, seeing the flash of something hateful in her eyes. But I bit my tongue, flustered by the fact he had just saved me from my father thinking I had come out of the closet, or pantry in his case.
Sierra winced, realizing she had been a bit harsh. “Sorry, you know what I meant.”
Lainey walked to me, wrapping her arms around me. “We just wish you’d told us something was going on with you guys, instead of lying.”
“I’m not lying. I swear to the gods of all that is unholy in this friggin’ town. He dumped Sage at the beginning of the summer.” I gave Sierra a look. “When he hit on you he was single. She is the one who has been lying to us.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? No way.”
I nodded, hating that it was easier to take the coward’s path and out Sage for being dumped, than it was to confess that my father outright asked me if I was gay.
Sierra lifted a manicured finger to her lips. “He did say that, but I didn't believe him. I just assumed—it’s Vincent.”
I nodded. “Me too. But I don't think he’s lying. He honestly doesn't care what she thinks of him, and I think coming on to us is his way of telling her that. He talked about me and him at the gala tonight in front of my dad. How could I argue?”
“You couldn't. Every father’s dream is Vincent Banks. Poor Sage.” Lainey’s pale cheeks flushed. “I think we all knew that her parents told her outright she was to date Vincent, so at least she never loved him. I think she likes Jake. God, I hope she does. I do not want him trying to paw me all night. I will stab him.”
Sierra and I both looked shocked. “What?”
“Which part?” Lainey jumped. “Oh shit. I wasn't supposed to know that, was I?” Her facts always got mixed up. Some things she was allowed to blab and other things she shouldn't let slip. “I must have heard it somewhere.” She tried lying, but it didn't work when we knew she remembered every detail of where she’d heard it.
