“I just wanted to say hi,” Fisher’s date said. “What’s your name?”
“Rosie,” I said. I glanced around, not sure why Fisher’s date was talking to me at all.
“That’s a pretty name,” Fisher’s date said.
I stared at him blankly. “I’ll let my parents know.”
Fisher’s date grinned and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah, good call,” he said.
I realized I was staring. I glanced away before he got the wrong idea. I had played it cool (really cool) when Ket was drooling over Fisher’s date. The boy was the cutest guy I’d ever seen. But boys were not my thing. The debacle with Teddy had made that abundantly clear.
I glanced back at him. He was staring at me, a faint half-smile on his lips. (Ugh, he looked like a damn Disney prince.) “Can I help you with something?” I said.
His smile grew larger. “I just wanted to say hi,” he repeated. “You don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun at the party.”
“And you’re going to change that for me?”
Fisher’s Date raised one eyebrow and my heart beat a little faster. “I’m going to do my best,” he said.
I flushed. I wished I hadn’t said that. It sounded flirty and I was never flirty.
I’d never attracted much male attention. I’d never wanted to. I knew I was pretty-ish (which was nice, even if I didn’t want anyone to notice) but I wasn’t good at being friendly, much less flirtatious. Hand-holding, hugging, kissing? I was bound to be terrible at all of it.
Not that it even mattered, since I didn’t want to be good at it.
I spent half my free time driving between Park City and Salt Lake City because of my parents’ romantic misadventures. The whole boy-girl-kittens-and-squealing thing was not worth the effort when I couldn’t even manage a part-time job. I wanted to move away from my parents, experience an unencumbered life. I couldn’t do that and worry about someone else, too.
Part of what I had always loved about Teddy was that I had assumed he’d shared my opinions.
But here was this guy, already on a date with the prettiest girl in the room, staring at me in a way that made my heart pound in my chest. I wanted to look away, but there was something about the way he looked me right in the eye. I wanted to hate his smile. It was like his perfect stupid mouth was set on “perma cheer” for no reason.
“You don’t like me,” he said.
I shrugged, struggling to keep my face impassive and my panic tamped down. “Should I?”
He grinned—he didn’t strike me as a guy who was turned down very often. “You’ve never met me. You should at least start me out with a blank slate.”
I shrugged again. “You’re Fisher’s date, right? Close enough.”
The smile faded from his face. He shifted closer to me. “Ah. Well, let me clarify—Fisher and I are just friends. I’m not the kind of guy who would be …”
“Would be what?” I said. I meant it to be sharp, but my tone came out softer. Too soft.
His eyes weren’t really blue. They were a clear pale gray, like the sky before a storm. And they were locked onto mine. “Would be talking to a pretty girl when I’m on a date with someone else.”
I felt a shiver run up my spine.
Fortunately, Ket flopped down on the other side of Fisher’s Date. I had to give him one thing: he might have been talking up a girl who wasn’t his date, but he didn’t check out Ket’s legs.
“I don’t think we’ve officially met,” Ket began.
“Ket, this is Fisher’s date,” I interrupted. “I’ve decided to call him FD. FD, this is Keturah.”
Ket glanced back and forth between the two of us, not-so-subtly checking out the minimal distance between FD’s thigh and mine. A slow smirk spread over her face. “That’s not very catchy,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I think we should call him FDR.”
For one second, I didn’t get it. Then Ket raised one eyebrow and it clicked in my brain. She thought he had a crush on me—Teddy and FDR. I scowled.
FDR raised his eyebrows at us. “What’s so funny?” he asked Ket.
I glanced over at FDR, refusing to acknowledge Ket’s widening grin. For one second, my gaze tripped over Vaughn Hollis, leaning against the wall and smirking at Ket. (Ugh, Ket. Why do you make the choices you do?) I blinked, refocusing on Fisher’s date and Ket. “How does FDR work for you?” I asked, determined to ignore Vaughn’s creepy staring.
He shrugged, an amused expression on his face. He didn’t look nearly so intense now that Ket was here. “Sounds all right by me.”
“Not that you’re terribly presidential looking,” Ket continued. “But FD just isn’t working for me.”
“Well, you could always use my real name,” FDR suggested.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” I said, a little too sharply.
FDR glanced back at me and for once I was able to look away from him. I didn’t know what was wrong with me—everything I said was coming out wrong.
Ket stood back up, tugging down her skirt to avoid indecent exposure, and grabbed my hand. “Pardon me for jumping in and stealing Rosie, FDR. Normally, I’d never block a cock—”
“Ket!” I cried, feeling my cheeks flame.
“—but I just need her for one minute. I promise, I’ll bring her back.”
“Promise?” FDR said, a grin spreading over his face.
Ket held up her pinkie. With zero hesitation, FDR hooked his pinkie around hers.
I smiled uncomfortably during their exchange—why couldn’t I flirt so effortlessly?
(Not that I wanted to flirt with FDR.)
(I definitely didn’t want to flirt with FDR.)
“I better go check in with Fisher anyway,” FDR said, standing. He must have been over six feet tall—he towered over Ket in her heels. “But I’m going to find you later.” His gray eyes met mine and another tremor ran up my spine.
“We’re leaving soon, find us at the dance,” Ket commanded as she pulled me down the hall. I couldn’t help it—I glanced over my shoulder. FDR stared after us, a faint smile on his face.
“Jeez, what magic spell did you cast over FDR?” Ket whispered as we walked away.
“He’s just goofing off,” I muttered. “He’s on a date with Fisher.”
“Poor guy,” Ket said, grinning. “No wonder he’s looking for a different girl to hang out with.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s gorgeous. I think he could do worse.”
“She’s boring and frigid and a giant snob,” Ket retorted. “But think what you like. FDR is in lurve with you, I can tell.”
“You think everyone is in lurve with everyone.”
Ket twirled, watching the lights sparkle off her sequined dress. “Isn’t that the best way to live, though?”
I refused to smile as I followed her into the hallway bathroom and she shut the door. I raised both eyebrows. “What, Ket?”
Ket lost the sly smile, putting on her serious face. “Ben is coming to the party. Promise you aren’t going to say anything to him.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you mean?”
Ket rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. Elin wants a chance to talk to Ben, and you’ve been guard-dogging her for weeks. Just … don’t scare him off.”
My cheeks flushed and I clenched my jaw. “Are you serious? He’s probably the reason—”
“We don’t know the reason,” Ket said levelly. It was annoying that Ket was being so cool-headed about this. Normally it was me talking to her in an everything’s-all-right voice.
“You don’t want to know the reason!” I hissed. “Have you even asked?”
“No, because it’s not my business,” Ket said. “Have you actually asked, or are you just assuming it was Ben?”
“I know it was Ben,” I said hotly.
Ket raised her eyebrows. “You don’t know any more than I do. So will you just do me this solid, because we’re friends?”
&
nbsp; I rolled my eyes and refused to meet her gaze. Ket sighed. “What do you think could possibly happen in one conversation?” she asked, her voice softer, her expression suddenly sad, as if her previous happiness had been nothing more than makeup that she’d washed off. “Even if you’re right. You can’t keep Elin in bubble wrap forever.”
I chewed my lower lip. “Fine,” I said. “I will leave him alone. Tonight. But if it seems like he’s upsetting her—”
“I will personally kick him in the tenders,” Ket said, a wide grin spreading over her face. (How does she do that?) She squealed, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. I stiffened and Ket laughed. “I know I’m invading your personal bubble, but you’ve done so much growing I thought maybe you could handle it—”
“Okay, cut it out,” I interrupted, squirming out of her grip. “Jeez. Why is everyone so touchy-feely today?”
Ket laughed. “It’s prom, dude. How else are you supposed to act?”
We stepped into the hallway to rejoin the party. I kept an eye on the front door, my book momentarily forgotten.
I may have promised Ket that I would leave Ben alone, but that was only because Ben was dating Hannah Larson. Hannah was the baby sloth of girlfriends, always clinging onto whatever guy she was dating.
With Hannah by his side, there was no way that Ben would have a second to talk to Elin by himself, which meant Elin was safe.
Over in the kitchen, FDR was opening another bag of red Solo cups. He glanced at me and smiled. I quickly looked away, trying to forget whatever that weirdness had been on the couch. I positioned myself in the hallway, near enough to a group of other kids that I looked like I was part of their conversation.
7:15 PM
When Ben walked through Fisher’s door without a date, I felt my pulse pick up. Where was Hannah?
Ben moved to the kitchen, helping himself to some chips and guacamole. Without Hannah hanging on Ben, Elin was a sitting duck.
I glanced over at where Ket was flirting with Vaughn in the hallway. She hadn’t noticed Ben walking through the door, looking around like he was searching for someone.
I scanned the party. I didn’t see Elin anywhere.
Sorry, Ket.
I jumped up and made my way into the kitchen, ending up across the table from Ben. “Hey,” I said brightly, but not too loudly, as I reached for a chip.
Ben blinked at me, then smiled. “Hey Rosie,” he said, sounding pleased but a little confused. After two years of being good friends, I had given him the cold shoulder ever since Elin had disappeared from school. I knew he’d been confused by my behavior.
That was what I was counting on.
“Want a beer?” I asked, grabbing his elbow and steering him toward the garage. “I think there’s some Golden Spike out here.”
15
BEFORE
Elin Angstrom
February 5, 6:30 PM
Rosie’s ceiling had a spidery crack down its center. Elin could be doing anything in Rosie’s room—studying, playing on her phone, flipping through a magazine—and always, always, always her attention would return to that crack.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Will was making stroganoff. Elin could smell the beef, onion, and garlic simmering in cream sauce. Her stomach wasn’t growling, not yet. More like purring.
She was glad her appetite had made an appearance. For weeks and maybe even months, she’d popped Tums and Midol like candy, trying to rid herself of the aches that started deep in her hips and radiated out through her bones. Sometimes she could eat, sometimes she couldn’t. Sometimes they kept her up at night. Her mother had taken her to a doctor, who had concluded she had growing pains and told her to stop taking so many pills.
“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, Ro,” Will called from the hallway.
“Thank you,” Rosie called back, not looking up from her work.
Elin much preferred Rosie’s Park City house to her Avenues house, and not just because it was so much closer. Will, who worked from home, was always cooking something. Rosie’s dad’s place smelled like old takeout and bad perfume.
The two of them were supposed to be studying, but Elin was surfing the web for a present for Ben. Valentine’s Day was around the corner.
Elin wasn’t sure yet whether she and Ben would have another Valentine’s Day together. But she wanted to be prepared, just in case.
Rosie sat at her desk and finished outlining their assignment. Elin loved being Rosie’s partner on projects. If she partnered with Ket, they never ended up finishing. Jenna tried so hard to engage her, to inspire the same love of accomplishment that Jenna felt, and the two of them always ended up arguing.
Rosie just started working and, whether Elin contributed or not, put Elin’s name at the top next to hers. It was a relief to not have to think, to feel badly about dragging another person down.
Elin shut her laptop, rolled over, and stared at Rosie’s ceiling. That spidery crack down its center.
Elin was sure Rosie considered that a metaphor for her entire existence.
“Are you going to buy Teddy a birthday present?” Elin asked suddenly.
Rosie paused. Rosie was the loudest typer Elin knew—louder even than Jen. “No. Do you think I should?”
Elin shrugged, enjoying the feeling of Rosie’s satiny comforter against her bare skin. Rosie and Will always ran cold, and whenever Rosie’s mom was out of town—which was most of the time—they cranked the furnace. Elin had peeled off her sweater and was lying on Rosie’s bed in a tank top and low-rise jeans, feeling like summertime. “He’s turning eighteen,” Elin said finally. “It’s a pretty big deal.”
That, and he’s totally in love with you, and maybe you should throw him a bone?
“Yeah,” Rosie said distantly. “What should I get him, do you think?”
Elin shrugged again. Teddy had been part of their circle of friends forever, and Elin adored him, of course, but Rosie and Ket were closest to him. Besides, who knew what to buy a boy? Elin barely knew what to give Ben for Valentine’s, and they’d been dating since freshman year. He loved LEGOs, but she felt stupid getting him a toy. She’d ask Aron what cologne he wore, but then her boyfriend would smell like her brother.
I’ll ask Jenna, she thought finally. Jenna was the best gift giver, always picking the exact thing that someone wanted but somehow no one else ever thought of—maybe not even the recipient.
Elin didn’t know why she hadn’t let Jenna decide on Ben’s present in the first place.
“Is everything okay?” Rosie asked suddenly. Elin rolled over onto her belly. “What do you mean?”
Rosie pulled her book onto her lap so she could highlight and face Elin. She raised her eyebrows. “I can tell you want to talk about something.”
Elin fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag, twisting it around her hands. “It’s just that … well, remember how I told you that Ben and I slept together after prom last year?”
“Yeah,” Rosie said, applying chapstick and smacking her lips together. Rosie had a habit of always doing two things at once—cooking and reading, running and texting, doodling and watching TV. But she always listened when her friends spoke.
“Well … we kept having sex after that, right?”
“That is generally how it works,” Rosie said, one corner of her mouth quirking up. “What’s the problem?”
Elin rolled over again, staring at the ceiling. That long, thin crack. Like lightning. “Well … I used to really like it, but lately … I don’t know. I just don’t like it as much. I … I kind of wish we weren’t doing it at all, actually.”
Elin didn’t mention that it hadn’t always been that way. After the first few awkward times, it was like Elin couldn’t get enough. They had sex whenever they had the chance—Elin’s house, Ben’s basement, Ben’s car, even once at Rosie’s house while Rosie and Teddy were upstairs arguing over a movie.
And then something changed. She couldn’t explain it.
But she didn�
��t want to do it anymore.
She didn’t even want to be touched, if she could avoid it.
Elin waited for Rosie to say something—to fill in the gaps of Elin’s awkwardness with explanations, like she always did. But when Elin looked over, Rosie didn’t have a thoughtful look on her face. Her expression was stormy. Elin blinked, surprised. “What?”
There was a battle raging in her brown eyes, concern and anger. “Is Ben … making you—”
“What? Oh, no, never!” Elin said hastily, cutting her off before she could even finish the idea. “Jeez, Rosie, it’s not like that.”
Her brow remained furrowed and she still seemed tense, but she nodded. “Well, what’s the problem?”
Elin looked down, wracking her brain for a way out of this mess. Could I suck more? The strap of her bag was knotted in her hands. “I just … I don’t know. It isn’t as much fun as I’d thought it would be. I need to … you know, spice things up, I guess.”
“Oh,” Rosie said, her shoulders relaxing. “Well … jeez, beats me. Have you asked Ket? I am fresh outta sex tips, friend.”
Elin laughed, harder than the joke deserved, but Rosie flashed her a faint smile and went back to their assignment. Elin felt her fake laughter melt away as she stared up at the crack in the ceiling. Her hunger was gone, replaced with a familiar nauseous feeling.
She prayed Rosie would not bring it up again.
Soon afterward Will called them downstairs to eat.
Elin barely managed to swallow two bites.
16
Ket West-Beauchamp
April 18, 7:05 PM
I stepped out of the bathroom, Rosie two steps behind me. I ran my fingers over my hair, making sure everything was still sleek and straight, and scanned the room for Elin. She was standing by the cooler, holding a beer, her face pinched like she had a stomach ache she was trying to ignore. Across the room, Jenna was sitting at the table, still playing Flip Cup.
Guilt shot through me as I glanced over at Elin. I knew I should go over and find out why she looked so unhappy. But the thought of looking Elin in the eye—in her wide, shiny, Bambi-esque eyes—made me feel ill. I glanced away before she could see me staring.
When the Truth Unravels Page 7
