Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Stalker much?” I should feel creeped out, but a little part of me thinks it’s endearing. “I guess that means I should know things about you, too.”

  “Hmm, I guess so.” He looks quite pleased with this.

  “Okay, what’s your—”

  Before I can finish asking him anything, someone clears their throat.

  “What are you doing here?” Jessica looks like a black widow on the prowl for the mourning. Her dress is two sizes too small, pushing her silicone boobs together and making them look supersized. She’s definitely wearing it to make a statement: She is good and ready for anything.

  “I wanted to pay my respects to Felicia’s father.” I force a frown. Part of that is true. I do feel sorry for him, but even I know it’s hopeless to get anyone to believe me.

  “Not you.” She scrunches her nose at me and points her finger at Ryder’s chest. “You! You haven’t returned any of my texts. What are you doing here with her?”

  “I’m sorry, but I blocked your number,” Ryder says unapologetically.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because Lake and I are dating now. It’s not like you and I had anything serious. I mean, it was only that one time.” Ryder grabs my hand with full confidence. I want to wrench it away. This is definitely not part of the plan. Upsetting Jessica isn’t going to get us any answers. But the look on her face is so priceless, it makes me grip his hand a little tighter. She’s the reason we’re here anyway. “I was accompanying her.”

  She cackles like an evil witch who eats children. “That’s funny. Especially since you were at my house not even a week ago.”

  Ryder being a man-whore is common knowledge. I’m well aware they hooked up. Jessica loves to talk loudly anytime she’s around me about her special time with Ryder. I don’t know if she thinks I’ll be jealous or what. Like most girls at school, she hates the attention Ryder gives me. It makes them think I’m their competition, making me even more of an outcast.

  I grind my teeth together. I know how unbelievable it is that we would be dating, but just the idea that Jessica and I could be in the same category bothers me. I want to let go of him, but then I spot Rochelle watching us from a small distance away, so I grab his arm, pulling it around my body, and lean into his embrace.

  “Don’t worry.” I give Jessica a condescending smile. “I had Ryder get tested before I let him come near me. It’s good to know he didn’t get the clap.”

  Jessica pales. The nail in the coffin. Before she can open her mouth to say anything, I hear my name being called. “Lake?” It’s Mayor Craig.

  I turn to look at the man. Though he’s a silver-haired fox, he’s never looked that old, but on the day of his daughter’s funeral, he looks older than his fifty years. He has heavy circles under his eyes, and his mouth is surrounded by aging lines. I can’t believe it. Just three weeks ago, he was on the news looking like the pristine and elegant DILF that he is. He still looks like a dad anyone would want to bang, but he’s severely tired.

  “I’m so glad you came,” he says, pulling me into a hug.

  I’m not used to affection from anyone other than Dad. I stand there awkwardly at first, before placing my arms around him and lightly hugging him back. “I’m so sorry about Felicia, Mayor Craig.” The words come out of my mouth robotically, due to my discomfort.

  He sobs harshly. “My baby is dead. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

  His tears drip down into my hair. His grip on me tightens. If I didn’t feel trapped before, now I’m having trouble breathing. I lightly pat him on the back, hoping that will be an indicator that this is enough, but I feel guilty. It doesn’t work because he holds onto me tighter until a throat clears, and the mayor pulls away. I can finally breathe again. It isn’t odd for Mayor Craig to give hugs. He’s a huggy kind of person. He’s always hugged his fans and seemed overly friendly. I, however, am not like that at all.

  “Ah, Ryder. I’m so glad you could come,” the mayor says to the person I hate to call my throat-clearing savior.

  I glance over at Ryder in shock as he tenses, but his voice is soft when he says, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. I know you and Felicia were close friends,” Mayor Craig says. I glance in Ryder’s direction and give him a questionable raised eyebrow. Felicia’s father even knew they were friends.

  But before Ryder can say anything else, the mayor’s eyes move past us and land on someone behind us.

  “That bitch.” Mayor Craig’s talking to himself, but his lip curls, and Ryder and I both turn to see who he’s just snarled at. It’s Jessica.

  Jessica’s eyes meet the mayor’s and the man storms past Ryder and me, heading right to Jessica. Her eyes grow round, and her body shivers in fear.

  “Haven’t you done enough?” he snaps. Jessica gulps, looking on in shock. “My daughter was an angel before she met you. You ruined my baby. My …” His eyes fill with tears and he storms off.

  I’m not the only person who’s in shock. A few people watch as Jessica stands there, looking like a bruised little child. I’d feel bad for her, but Felicia did stop talking to me the second she and Jessica became table partners in freshman-year biology.

  “For a man whose life is all about appearances, she must have really pissed him off for him to do that in public,” I say, turning back to Ryder and away from the shitshow. “That is definitely something to look into.”

  “Yeah …” He shakes his head and quietly chuckles. “God, but did you see her face when you insinuated she had the clap earlier? Priceless.”

  “What? She did last year.”

  His eyes widen.

  “You didn’t know?” I cringe. “I mean, I only know because I saw her getting a lecture by Pharmacist Mackey about how to use her medication. But like, I thought she’d at least tell her sexual partners.”

  “We weren’t sexual partners. We only kissed. And it’s been over a year. Anyway.” He looks a bit concerned now and I want to laugh so hard, but it’s probably not appropriate to do so at a funeral.

  “If we’re ‘dating,’ you’d better try and keep it in your pants, Frost,” I joke.

  “Are you jealous?” His lip jerks up.

  “Hell to the no. Why would I ever be jealous of Jessica?”

  “I mean that I had a thing with her. Even if it was just making out.”

  My blood boils a bit and I try to shrug it off. “Nope. Not a bit. To me, you’re just my partner in solving this crime.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He sounds so sure of himself. “And I did get tested, recently, too.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “My dad forced me. But I have a clean bill of health, just FYI.”

  I want to smack him, but instead, I turn to find Rochelle and her husband arguing. I nudge Ryder. “Let’s get closer.”

  No one but us is paying attention when the mayor grabs Rochelle’s arm and drags her into the kitchen. I take Ryder’s hand and pull him around to the laundry room. It’s right next to the kitchen, and those walls are thinner than Felicia when she didn’t eat for a week to look good for her senior photos. When we get there, I pull my hand out of his and hold a finger to my lips.

  “All I ask is for you to at least act like you cared about my daughter at her funeral. Instead, I find you propositioning the priest.”

  “I wasn’t propositioning Father Andrew! I was just asking him about Catholic traditions.”

  “Asking if you can eat him up like the body of Christ is hitting on him. My daughter is dead, Rochelle!” The real pain in his voice is evident. “And instead of grieving for her, I’m dealing with you! Just go to your room and try not to talk to anyone else.”

  “What am I, your child? I’m your wife,” she bites out.

  “I’m sick of your indiscretions and having to cover up your affairs. I don’t car
e what you do, as long as you make sure no one else sees it. If someone finds out about your little boys and habits, that will be the end of you.”

  “End of me?”

  “Yes, I will divorce you and make sure you don’t get a dime.”

  “Like I was going to get anything anyway. You can’t threaten me. There’s nothing I have that you haven’t already taken.”

  He pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “Are you high?”

  “On life, which is more than I can say for your precious daughter.”

  The slap is so loud, it echoes throughout the house.

  It’s quiet for a moment before Mayor Craig says, “I … I’m sorry.” He sounds shaken and pained.

  Rochelle lets out a harsh laugh. “I’m not the only one with a taste for the sins of the flesh. I know all about your little whore. Slap me again, and maybe the media will know, too.”

  “I never meant to hurt you.” His tone is remorseful, but guarded. “My daughter is dead. Is it too much to ask for some sympathy from my own wife?”

  “The little bitch got what was coming to her. You know it, and so do I. Don’t pretend to be surprised. No one else is.”

  Then, the door slams. Ryder pulls me out of the laundry room and back into the hallway.

  “That was something,” he says.

  I can’t imagine what the scene must have looked like when the mayor hit his wife, but I know better than to linger. “Let’s get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

  “Who would notice us?” Ryder asks. There’s a playfulness in his tone that I’m not having. I suddenly become aware I’m still holding his hand. I wrench mine away, and he pouts.

  “Your fuck buddy Jessica, maybe?”

  He purses his lips, looking agitated before saying, “We made out a few times, but I never touched her anywhere below the waist.”

  I snort.

  “I swear, Lake. I didn’t have sex with her. Or most of the girls and women you think I have. Sure, I’m no virgin, but I don’t whore myself out. I’m not Felicia,” he says.

  I recall what Felicia said in her journal. Felicia had sex with older guys, lots of them. And from the sounds of it, she got paid for it.

  “Ryder, you don’t take me as the kind of guy that cares whether a girl has an STD or not. You look like the kind of guy with a Planned Parenthood stamp card. Does the next visit come with a lifetime supply of cotton candy-flavored condoms?”

  He rolls his eyes, and I just storm back into the living room. That’s when I spot Jessica glaring daggers at the mayor. Then, something pops into my head.

  “Mayor Craig thinks Jessica was a bad influence on Felicia, but Felicia had her on such a short leash, she had her registered with the kennel club. I think it’s time we find out exactly what Jessica knows.”

  I look at Ryder for confirmation to set our plan into motion. He squirms uncomfortably, but nods.

  Chapter 9

  Sometimes, I wish I were anyone but me. To be invisible, for the most part. If I were invisible, I could follow Jessica around and find out what she knows about Felicia without having to approach her. Then again, this is Jessica, and if I track her, there’s a possibility I could walk right into an orgy.

  “I don’t think we should confront her together. I think you should let me talk to her alone,” Ryder says.

  Knowing their past makes me realize I can’t truly trust Ryder. I want to tell him no. No, that’s not right. I want to tell him hell to the no. Over my dead body … but then I think, why not? Sure, they have a past, but I don’t have many other options. Originally, we were going to lure her away and question her together, but Ryder’s right. She probably won’t say boo to me.

  I’d never admit my discomfort, but there’s just something about Ryder being alone with Jessica that irks me.

  We’re still at the funeral, lingering by the drink table. Everyone who’s encountered us believes we’re really going out, all thanks to Ryder constantly doting on me. He brings me a plate of food he insists on feeding to me. He holds my hand, at times bringing it to his lips and pressing kisses to my palm. I force myself to giggle. To everyone else, it looks like I’m placing my hands around his waist, but in reality, I’m digging my claws into his side. He tries not to squirm, but I can tell I’m hurting him. It all works out for the best because Rochelle and Jessica bare their teeth at us with scorn. I eat that shit up.

  “I don’t know,” I say, responding to his request. “Should I really trust you with Jessica? I mean, two minutes in, you’ll probably be mauling each other.”

  He gives me a wicked grin. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re just jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Your tone says otherwise.”

  “No, that’s just constipation. I haven’t pooped in days,” I say, deadpan.

  “Don’t worry, okay? I’m not going to ‘maul’ Jessica. When I’m in a relationship, I don’t mess around.”

  “And when were you in a relationship before?”

  He forces his lips into a thin line, and a crease in his forehead emerges as though he’s deep in thought. “Second grade?”

  I snort. A few people shoot glares in my direction, but I don’t care.

  “What? For the whole two hours Carly Johnson and I were together, I was completely faithful. She was the one who took Jayden Quinn’s pudding cup without a second thought.”

  Before I can laugh in his face, his eyes round and he whispers, “Jessica looks like she’s going to go on a rampage.”

  “Oh?” I want to laugh at him.

  “Just think about this: If we start fighting and I easily go to her, it’s out of character for both of us. We need to cause a diversion, make her think we’re really fighting. If she tried to hit on someone you were dating, would you literally just take a seat back? Think about it. Start a fight with her. I’ll break it up.”

  “Two girls fighting over you. That’s your kink, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” The edge of his lip quirks up. “Just do it. She’s coming this way.”

  I attempt to turn, but he grabs my arm. “Don’t look. Here.” He grabs a cup from the table behind me and holds it out to me. “Throw this in my face.”

  “What? Why?” I say as he shoves the cup into my hand.

  “Just do it and go along with it.”

  I do as I’m told, and the drink splashes right into his eyes. I hear a gasp from Jessica, who must have come closer.

  Ryder hisses out a cry as his face turns bright red. I gulp in shock. “I … uh …”

  “My eyes! That was whiskey!” At first, I think he’s just going for the gold, but the stench of alcohol radiates from him. I just threw real whiskey in Ryder’s eyes! He blinks, as though trying to make out the world around him. Tears rain down his face, and he chews on his lip like a dog chews on a bone. I want to ask if he’s okay. The guilt consumes me. “You bitch!” He’s seething. I gulp in fear.

  “I—”

  “That’s the last time I offer to give you a mind-blowing orgasm.”

  I squint my eyes at the douche. He’s trying to embarrass me, and he’s winning. So, I go along with it. Fuck him. “Mind-blowing? You’re kidding, right?”

  “You seemed to enjoy it last night,” he rages.

  “It’s called faking it. Just a little ‘oh baby, oh baby,’ and you become a minute man.”

  Maybe I don’t deserve that C- in drama that Miss Daniels gave me. From the corner of my eye, I see the cheer squad look on in shock and horror, while a few popular jocks try not to laugh. Eat your heart out, Miss Daniels.

  “That’s how you really feel?” His voice cracks. “And to think, you were the best I ever had. I mean, you’re so bendy.” His eyes begin to water, but I doubt it’s from the public breakup.

  I feel eyes roam up and down my bod
y from the corner of the room where the jocks stand. I want to slug Ryder. I spent the last four years being ignored by the male populace at school, only to be ogled within seconds of Ryder’s remark. I try not to acknowledge it and carry on glaring at him. Next thing I know, Jessica pushes me aside, sending me flying back into the table. She’s clinging to Ryder’s side.

  “Oh, Ryder, are you okay?” Jessica coos. She presses her synthetic tits up against his side, patting his shirt down with a napkin she just happens to have. “What happened?”

  “None of your business what happened,” I snap. “Get your hands off of him.”

  I give her a slight shove back and she barely moves. She thrusts her perfectly manicured hand into my chest, trying to deter me. I don’t budge and push her back.

  “Ladies,” Ryder says, but it’s too late. Jessica slaps her hand across my face, and it’s like the room stills. I give her a withering look and slap her back. I want to slam my fist into Ryder, but instead, I slap at Jessica’s shoulder and she slaps at mine, and suddenly we’re slapping at each other’s hands. It’s like we’re playing patty cake, only Jessica suddenly stops and grabs ahold of my hair. She yanks and I let out a shriek.

  Then, I grab ahold of her hair and pull, only for her extension to come out. Suddenly, Ryder grabs Jessica’s middle and pulls her back.

  “Easy, babe,” he says to her. “She’s not worth it.”

  I don’t know how he’s doing it with his now-bloodshot eyes.

  He calms her and her hair is a mess. No one has gotten between us, other than Ryder, and I look around to find our classmates gazing at the scene with curiosity.

  “Nothing to see here!” I shout.

  They all turn away guiltily.

  “Ryder, she doesn’t deserve you,” Jessica hisses.

  “Just calm down, babe.” He calls her babe again and I want to gag. “Can you help me get cleaned up?” He tilts his head to the side a bit and gives her a sweet smile.

  “Of course!” She’s playing right into his hand. She grabs ahold of his arm and shoves me out of the way. I stumble, but catch myself against the table. I throw the cup onto it and shake my head as though I’m frustrated.