by Tara Kelly
“You should’ve reported that creep.”
“Yeah? Should I report everyone who looks me up and down, like I’m diseased, and tells me I look just like her? Or everyone who asks me and Alex who our dad is?”
Not knowing who their dad was or if they even had the same dad had always been a touchy subject—one I knew never to bring up. But some people in town thought it was their business because Mary got pregnant with Alex while she was still living here. I thought they’d finally gotten tired of asking.
“You know I get what it’s like,” I said. “We can talk about it. We can—”
“Oh, you mean you’ll actually answer my email this time? Or call” —she put her hand against her chest—“for me?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “There’s been so much going on. With everything.” But she needed me. “We’re still friends. That hasn’t changed.”
“No, we’re not. “ She glared at me, her voice tight. “We’ve never been friends.”
“What the—”
“Alex is your friend. I just came with the deal.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re like a sister to me.”
“Exactly.” Her voice softened.
My face felt hot, and there was a lump in my throat. I was losing her, too.
“What do we have in common?” she continued.
I took in her clothes, Gabi’s clothes, the inches of skin between her jean cutoff shorts and tank top. Her hair, blonder than before, was completely straight now. Even her posture was different. Straighter, almost defiant.
But the uncertainty in her eyes was still there.
I tried to think of a memory, any memory of the two of us. A funny conversation we had. Something only she knew about me. But I couldn’t. Alex was always there, a bridge between us.
“Maybe we’re not best friends,” I said. “But I’m more of a friend than Gabi will ever be.”
“How’s that?”
“I wouldn’t make jokes about your family, for starters.” I took a step toward her. “If Alex knew the stuff you were saying in there, to them, it…” It would kill him.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Alex doesn’t really care about anything right now.”
“I get that you’re mad at him. I am, too. But you guys need each other.”
“He won’t even look at me.”
I let out a breath, but it didn’t relieve the pressure in my chest. “He’s a mess right now.”
“He’s always been a mess.”
“Not like this…”
She studied me for a moment, her long, skinny fingers clutching the ends of her hair. “He’s different around you. Even when we were kids.”
“What do you mean?” There it was again. That ache.
“Figure it out.”
Maybe I needed to hear her say it. Maybe then it would finally sink in. I never really knew him.
“I need to get back,” she said.
“To what? Christian using you to get dirt on Alex? He’s not your friend, Megan.”
She squinted, shaking her head. “You think I don’t know that? He has a thing for Gabi. He practically stalks her.”
“Then why doesn’t she tell him to fuck off?”
“I don’t know…” She wrapped her arms around herself, making her seem more breakable. “Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut.”
“Right. And bat your eyelashes. Giggle while they rip other girls to shreds. At least they’re not doing it to you, right?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I’ll bet you anything your good friend Gabi is having a laugh at your expense right now.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I wanted to take them back…and I didn’t.
Her eyes rolled up to the sky, and her face turned red, but she didn’t respond. Not right away.
“You know what you are, Nova?” she asked, finally. Her voice was quiet, almost calm. “Jealous.”
My mouth dropped open.
“You hate that me and Alex have moved on,” she continued. “That you’re not the center of Alex’s universe anymore. That—”
“You should stop right there.” My fingers curled into fists. I kept having to remind myself this was Megan talking. Not some cake. “You can’t take it back.”
She turned and grabbed the doorknob, looking back at me once more. “You’re wrong. Gabi’s a better friend than you ever were.”
And with that, she was gone.
I stood there, my hands shaking. Heat behind my eyes. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was like I was trapped inside myself…all I could do was breathe.
“Ouch,” a guy’s voice said behind me. “That was harsh.”
I spun around to see Christian. He was coming from the side of the building, where he’d probably been hiding out.
“You’re not supposed to be back here,” I said.
He moved toward me, closing the distance between us in seconds. “Uh-oh—better sic Granddaddy Garcia on me. Maybe he can beat me with his bong.”
“What do you want?”
He leaned over until his face was inches from mine. His pupils erased most of the blue in his eyes, and the muscles in his jaw were tense. Ready for a fight. “You wanted me to say it to your face, right?”
My heart pounded, urging me to run. But my pride wouldn’t let me back down. He was a coward. I didn’t run from cowards.
Christian didn’t give me time to think. He grabbed my arm, his jagged nails digging into my skin, and threw his fist into my stomach, the soft spot right beneath my rib cage. My knees gave out; the sky turned brown. I was on the ground, hugging my torso, the gravel cutting into my shins.
I couldn’t breathe in or out. Nausea took over then, freezing me in place. My eyes squeezed shut.
“Feels like you’re gonna die, doesn’t it?” Christian’s hot breath hit my ear.
I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream or even speak. If Amber’s killer was someone she knew—and every bone in my body told me it was—Christian would be at the top of that list. And I was in the worst place I could be right now, no witnesses.
A burning sensation inched up my esophagus. The strawberry milkshake I’d had for lunch stung the back of my throat.
“You’re not getting away with it,” he continued, keeping his voice low. “None of you.”
I didn’t know if he meant his beatdown or Amber. Or both.
He grabbed my hair, snapping my head back. Forcing me to look at him. He was squatting next to me, his cheeks flushed.
I balled up my fist. One swing. That was all I needed.
“Don’t try it,” he said. “You’ll lose.” Then he spit at me. The wad landed right between my eyes.
The back door screeched open behind us. Christian scrambled to his feet and took off running.
“Hey!” Brandon’s voice called out. Footsteps crunched behind me. “Nova—you okay?” His hand warmed my back.
“I think so.” It was as if Christian’s fist remained in my gut, twisting and squeezing. I wiped his spit from my face with the end of my T-shirt.
“Here. Let me help you up.”
I put my arm around his shoulders, and he kept his hand on my lower back, steadying me. I felt weak all over, but my legs managed to keep me upright.
“Thanks. I got it.” I made my way over to one of the white plastic chairs and lowered myself into it.
I took slow breaths for a few minutes, waiting for the dull sky above to come back into focus. Wishing I’d had the strength to take a swing at Christian. His words rang in my ears. You’re not getting away with it. None of you.
“What happened?” Brandon asked, sliding into the other chair.
“He sucker punched me.”
Brandon stared at me like he had more questions. Questions I didn’t really want to deal with. “You want me to call my mom? I’m a witness. I could—”
“Please don’t.” No way did I want to talk to the cops. I was already too mu
ch on their radar.
“Why not?”
I couldn’t think of a good answer. I couldn’t think at all. He knew the detectives came by to question me earlier this week…he just didn’t know I’d lied. “I should go home. Put some ice on this.”
“Your mom told me I could take off—it’s dead in there. I can give you a ride.”
I stood, rubbing the sore spot on my abdomen. As if that would somehow stop the throbbing. “I can walk. Thanks, though.”
“Really?” he asked.
I wasn’t exactly in top form at the moment. It would be easy for Christian to corner me again…or someone else. But I was used to getting places on my own, especially when I wanted to be alone. It pissed me off to feel like a prisoner in my own town.
“Actually, I think I’ll take that ride.”
He scanned me for a few seconds, his mouth turned down at the corners. I got the feeling there was something else he wanted to say. “Okay. Let me get my stuff.”
We passed Gabi and Megan on the way to Brandon’s car. They walked slowly, their bare arms pressed together like they were conjoined twins. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they actually were sisters. Their coloring was night and day. But at first glance they were tangled locks of hair and delicate features. Long legs and bony knees.
Megan kept her head down, but Gabi’s dark eyes focused on Brandon. She whispered something to Megan that made them both smile.
Brandon jammed his hands into his jean pockets, and his pace quickened. I had to jog a little to keep up with him.
“Think it’s about to rain,” he said, looking up.
The clouds had grown charcoal bellies, and they were starting to move east with the wind. The western sky was unsettling, almost the color of mud. I usually liked big storms, but today I wanted the sun. I wanted normal.
After we got into Brandon’s car, he rolled down his window and slid a cigarette between his lips. He stared in the direction Gabi and Megan went while grabbing a lighter out of his pocket.
“She talking to you yet?” I asked. “Gabi.”
“Nope. She comes to the diner every chance she gets, though.”
“I noticed. Maybe she misses you?” I offered this mostly for his benefit. I didn’t want to say what I really thought. She was a spineless princess who dropped him because the cakes deemed him unworthy.
He took a first drag and shifted into drive. “She likes playing games.”
The bitterness in his voice took me by surprise. “You sounded like a boy in love just a week ago. What happened?”
“Nothing,” he said, before exhaling. “I called her. Asked her what the hell I did.”
“And?”
He shook his head. “I never got a real answer.”
“She had to say something.”
His finger tapped against the steering wheel as we drove. “Yeah. A lot of bullshit.”
Clearly he wasn’t going to offer more, but I needed to know more. “Well, Megan thinks Gabi is her new best friend. And I’m not buying it.”
“What’s not to buy? Everyone at school thinks like you,” Brandon said. “She’s De Luca’s daughter. She’s the enemy. You think she has an easy time making friends around here?”
Now he was defending her? Maybe bringing up Gabi was too raw of a subject for him right now.
We stopped at a red light. He scanned our surroundings, keeping his cigarette low and out of sight, as if his mom were waiting to jump from the shadows.
A group of teens were gathered on the sidewalk about ten feet away, a cloud of exhaled smoke above them. Matt and Jenika in their matching black hoodies. Tyler in his trying-too-hard studded leather jacket. Alex with his skateboard tucked under one arm. And Haley St. James, her hair as blue and bright as the desert sky.
Haley and Alex had their arms wrapped around each other. It could’ve been a friendly gesture. But as far as I knew, she’d never given him the time of day before.
Matt smiled a little and gave me a salute. I rolled my eyes, telling myself to ignore them. But my gaze went right back to Alex.
He saw me and dropped his arm from Haley’s waist, like he was doing something wrong. He hadn’t called me since Tuesday afternoon, after the cops showed up at his house. They asked him the same questions about that night, and he gave them the same answers. He told me not to worry.
I told him to worry more.
“This light can turn green any time now,” I muttered, the pain in my stomach getting worse again.
“Want me to run it?”
I wished. “Sure.”
Brandon glanced in the rearview mirror and both ways before gunning it into the intersection.
I gripped the sides of my seat. “I thought you were kidding.”
He just smiled.
“Ever feel like this place makes you stupid?” he asked after a few seconds. “Like, if you stay here, you’ll never do anything worth doing?”
Putting it that way sounded bad, like I thought I was better than my family. Or my friends…if I still had them. But I knew what he meant. “I’m leaving the first chance I get.”
“Me, too.”
Quarter-sized raindrops smacked the windshield. One flew inside the car, hitting me in the eye. I rolled up my window.
“Hear anything more on Amber’s case?” I asked.
He glanced at me. “Do you think about anything else?”
It was true. I’d been asking him if he’d heard anything nearly every day since we’d gone to Winchester Beach. But if he knew about any major leads, he wasn’t sharing. He just said they hadn’t found Amber’s cell phone, that the killer probably destroyed it or tossed it in the ocean.
“Do you think Christian’s capable?” I asked, remembering how he happened to be passing by that day we went to the beach to check out the crime scene. Killers often liked to come back and check up on the police.
“Honestly? Yeah.” He rolled his window down and smacked a new pack of cigarettes against his palm. “He’s a vengeful fuck.”
“No kidding…” I rubbed my stomach again. “He doesn’t strike me as the organized type, though.”
“I heard he set some guy’s car on fire.”
My breath got caught in my throat. “What?”
He looked over at me, his forehead creasing. “You didn’t hear about that?”
“Uh, no.”
“Supposedly, he was in love with this girl his freshman year, and she cheated on him with an older guy.” He paused to light up.
Christian in love? I wasn’t buying it…
“Two days later,” Brandon continued. “The guy’s car is a bonfire in his driveway.”
There was a rumble behind us, the sound of a restless ocean. But we were too far away to hear the waves crash against the rocks. It had to be thunder. “Did Christian get busted?”
“Nah, they couldn’t pinpoint the cause. Arson is harder than hell to pin on someone.”
“Who told you this—Gabi?”
He nodded, flicking ash out the window.
“Why does she hang around him?” I asked.
He rested his head back against the seat, his light brown eyes somewhere other than here. “I don’t know,” he muttered.
The hardness in his stare said otherwise. I opened my mouth to call him on it, but he spoke first. “I’m guessing you know what happened to his face?”
“I know I didn’t do it.”
He watched me like those cops did, reading every tic. I felt like a specimen in a jar. “But you know who did…”
“Is this an interrogation?” I forced a smile.
He took another drag, his expression softening. “Just curious…”
The wind howled through his cracked window, spraying us with rain. It made the sticky heat inside his car a little more bearable.
“I don’t run home and tell my mom everything,” he said.
“I never said you did.”
“You don’t have to. Everyone thinks it.” He ground his cigarette
butt out in the car ashtray.
“I should go put ice on this.” I patted my stomach. “Thanks for…well, for being there.”
“Look, this might sound weird. But whatever.” He kept his gaze down as he spoke. “We’re both kind of low on friends. If you ever want to hang out or talk for real…” He raked his hands through his inky hair, wincing. “Man, that sounds lame. It’s been so long since I…”
“I get it. Believe me. And I’d like that.” I’d give anything for someone to confide in, someone who wasn’t Alex. But trusting anyone right now felt impossible. “You do know at least half the girls in this town would kill to hang out with you, right?”
He smiled a little, shaking his head. “If you say so.” His expression turned serious. “Too bad there’s only one girl I want like that.”
“Well, I hope she wakes the hell up.” Actually I hoped he’d realize he was way too good for her. I’d tell him that when he was ready to hear it.
He looked up at me then. “I hope Alex does, too.”
I turned my focus out the passenger window, heat pouring into my face. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“Yeah.”
I winced a little. “Great. And with that…” I reached for the handle. “I’m really going now.”
He touched my arm lightly. “Hey, wait…”
I turned toward him, hoping he wasn’t going to push the topic.
Instead he said, “Whatever’s going down between you and Christian. Watch out, okay? The guy has more than a few screws loose.”
There was genuine concern in his eyes, enough to give me chills.
Christian wasn’t going to rat on us to the cops. He was going to come after us his way, on his terms.
Chapter Fifteen
The phone rang at 10:36 p.m. I was lying on my bed, listening to the apocalyptic sound of fireworks being set off in a thunderstorm. The sky could’ve been falling for all I knew. Part of me wouldn’t mind if it did.
Mom opened my door, a beer in one hand, our cordless black phone in the other. She’d been camped out on the living room couch, attempting to hear an episode of CSI over the explosions.
“It’s Megan,” she said, holding the phone out to me. She’s upset, she mouthed. Her eyes were full of questions.
