by Amy Cross
“It's a photo,” she replies, her voice sounding more fragile now, almost as if she's in shock.
“If it's another of those -”
“It's of us,” she continues.
I look around again. The thought of someone spying from the bushes and taking photos is incredibly creepy, and I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm being watched.
“It's fake,” Sophie says after a moment. “It's another sick, disgusting fake.”
Heading over to her, I look at the screen. At first I can't quite make out the image, but after a moment I realize that it shows two people on a bed. Sophie is on her back, fully-clothed but with her legs apart, and I'm on top of her. We're kissing passionately, and we've got our hands all over one another. I recognize the room, too. It's her old bedroom from the house we shared during out time at university.
“It's another fake,” she continues, pulling the phone away, “but what kind of sick asshole would do something like this?”
She stares at the picture for a moment longer, before turning to me.
“No,” I say finally, feeling a tight, crushing sensation in my chest, as if my heart is being pressed against my ribs. “It's not fake. It happened.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ten years earlier
“To Tommy,” we both say, raising our glasses and clinking them together.
“No-one deserves to go like that,” Nick mutters, as we sit at our usual table in the corner of the pub. “I didn't even know the guy very well, but hanging yourself... What the hell?”
He pauses for a moment.
“Is that the one where you orgasm as you die?”
I can't help rolling my eyes.
“I think that's drowning,” Jonathan suggests.
Nick turns to him. “Are you sure?”
“No, not really.”
They both sit for a moment in puzzled silence.
“I met one of his housemates earlier,” I tell them, trying to steer the conversation back toward the realms of good taste. “He said Tommy seemed completely fine just a few hours before he was found. I guess people can hide these things pretty well, huh? You never really know what's going on in someone's head.”
“Speaking of which,” Nick mutters, peering past me.
Turning, I see Sophie hurrying across the crowded room. She looks annoyed by something, or maybe shocked, and she damn near shoves a guy out of the way as she struggles to reach us.
“That fucking bitch!” she hisses as soon as she gets to the table. “That goddamn, evil, psychotic little slut!”
“What's Laura done now?” Nick asks, before taking a sip from his pint.
“I should go to the police,” she continues, taking her phone out with trembling hands and tapping at the screen. “She should be locked up!”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
Sitting next to me, she seems too focused on her phone, but finally she brings up a video.
“A friend sent this to me earlier,” she explains. “It's from the party last night. He thought I'd like to see this dumb trick that a couple of guys were playing, but then I noticed something in the background.” She turns the phone toward me and taps to play the video.
Nick scooches closer he can see too.
“It's two guys balancing bottles on their faces,” I point out. “That's hardly -”
“Watch it again,” she replies, tapping the replay button. “Watch the background.”
This time, I see that Lynn is in the back of the shot, talking to some people. A moment later, I spot Laura too, but the video quickly ends.
“Again,” Sophie says darkly, tapping the screen.
“But is this -”
“Again!”
As the video runs for a third time, I pay closer attention to Laura, and to my horror I see her briefly sprinkling something on Lynn's little pile of cocaine. She does it so quickly, and so nonchalantly, that it's clear no-one noticed at the time, but the video ends just as Lynn turns back to take another snort.
“That's...” I pause, trying to make sense of what I just watched. “That doesn't prove that she -”
“Lynn was the only one who got sick,” she replies, interrupting me. “She shared her coke and then she was the only one who ended up in hospital. And now we have proof that Laura added something right before Lynn started. Don't you get it? After their argument when Lynn called her a slut, Laura was furious! She tried to kill Lynn!”
“That's a little extreme,” I reply.
“Damn it,” Nick mutters, taking a sip of beer before starting to roll a new cigarette. “That's really messed up.”
“Let's just calm down,” I tell them. “We don't know that Laura was doing something to hurt Lynn. We should give her a chance to explain herself first.”
“I should show this to the police, though, right?” Sophie continues. “I mean, this might be attempted murder!”
“It might be nothing.”
“Since when did you start defending her?” she asks, clearly horrified. “That bitch tried to kill Lynn! Don't you get it? She's completely out of her mind! We've always known she's crazy, but now it's clear she's...” She pauses, as if she's struggling to find the right word. “She's dangerous!”
“We don't -”
“Watch it again!”
She replays the video, and I see the same thing that I saw the last time: Laura sprinkling something onto a small pile of cocaine. I want to defend her, to remind Sophie and Nick that there might still be an innocent explanation, but I have to admit that the video looks pretty damning right now.
“We owe her the chance to explain this first,” I tell Sophie.
“We owe her the chance to explain it to the police!” she says firmly.
“And here she is,” Nick mutters. “Speak of the devil.”
Turning, I see Laura grinning at us as she pushes through the crowd. She's wearing a very revealing red dress that bunches her chest tight, and it's clear that she's set for another big night out.
“Hey guys,” she says with a smile, setting her purse on the table. “So I figured -”
“What did you do to Lynn?” Sophie asks, tapping her phone and then turning the screen so that Laura can see the video.
Laura watches for a moment, and I see a flicker of concern in her eyes.
“Well,” she says once the video is over, “what does it look like I'm doing, Einstein? I added some detergent and a tiny amount of ant poison to Lynn's coke so that she'd learn her lesson and maybe stop with all the -”
“What the hell?” Sophie yells, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her hard against the wall, hard enough to knock a framed picture down and to attract attention from all the other customers in the pub. “Are you really so completely insane,” she sneers, “that you'd try to kill someone because they said something mean about you?”
“I was trying to help,” Laura gasps, barely able to breathe, “and -”
“Bullshit!” Sophie shouts, leaning closer to her. “You're out of luck, bitch, 'cause I'm taking that video to the police and then -”
“Break it up!” the barman shouts, hurrying over.
“You're choking her!” I tell Sophie, trying to pull her away.
Laura lets out a pained gurgle, before Sophie finally lets go of her throat.
“Out!” the barman says firmly. “You two girls, both of you, you're barred! Permanently! Get out of my pub!”
“You goddamn little psycho,” Sophie mutters, still staring at Laura. “You haven't heard the last of this.”
“Oh yeah?” Laura asks, taking a step back while rubbing her neck. She has a set of red marks from where Sophie grabbed her, but she's still smiling. “Well, I think I have a lot of witnesses who just saw you try to kill me, so -”
“Bullshit!” Sophie yells.
“Out!” the barman roars. “Now!”
“I'm going,” Laura tells him, turning and hurrying back through the crowd, heading to the door. “I've got better
places to be, anyway. This whole pub stinks of bleach and urinal cakes.”
“You too,” the barman tells Sophie. “Don't let me catch you in here again.”
“Wait,” I tell him, “can't you just -”
“Out!” he shouts, stepping closer to Sophie. “Now!”
“Fine,” she stammers, clearly close to tears as she grabs her phone and coat. She glances at me briefly, before turning and hurrying away.
“This is great,” I mutter, hurrying after her. “Sophie, stop! Let's talk about this!”
By the time we get outside, there's no sign of Laura. I guess she's already made her way to one of the other pubs on this street, but Sophie has stopped just a few meters away and after a moment I realize she's crying. I step up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, and now I can hear her faint sobs.
“That didn't exactly go very well, did it?” I point out finally.
She turns to me, with tears streaming down her face.
“You were right,” I continue, “Laura went too far, but trying to throttle her in a crowded pub wasn't the best approach. Now she's got something to use against you.”
“No-one in their right mind would think I was actually trying to hurt her,” she whimpers. “Lynn could have died, Elliot! She's in the hospital right now, she's still sick!”
“I'm sure Laura was careful not to use too much,” I reply, although I immediately realize how dumb that sounded. “You're right, she can't get away with something like this, but I don't know that grabbing her is the answer.”
“She has to move out!” she stammers. “There's no way that evil bitch can stay in our house!”
“The landlord -”
“Screw the landlord! Either she goes, or I go! And I promise you, Lynn will feel exactly the same way once I show her this video. Hell, for all we know...” She pauses for a moment, and I see a growing sense of shock in her eyes. “For all we know,” she continues, as the color drains from her face, “the incident with Lynn really might have been what tipped Tommy over the edge.”
“Don't start thinking like that, Sophie. You'll only -”
“Something upset him!” she continues. “What if Laura's stupid little stunt was what caused him to...” She hesitates, as if the thought is too much to bear. “Either that, or she went up to his room while everyone was busy. The place was chaotic after Lynn got sick, so there would have been a chance for her to slip away without being seen.”
“Why would she do that?” I ask.
She stares past me for a moment, and it's clear that she's still trying to work everything out. She's obviously very keen on her new theory, however, and I know from experience that Sophie isn't the kind of person who admits she's wrong without putting up a fight.
“Let's not jump to conclusions,” I continue, stepping closer. “Laura's done some bad things, but don't start acting like she's some kind of master criminal. If the incident with Lynn had anything to do with Tommy's death, you still can't blame Laura directly. Maybe deep down, she really was trying to turn Lynn off drugs, even if her attempt to help ended up going wrong.”
“Don't defend her,” Sophie replies, stepping away from me. “Don't ever defend that bitch to me, do you understand? If you can't see what she's like, then maybe you should go and sleep with her like everyone else in this town!”
“What?” I reply, shocked by the suggestion.
“I've seen the way everyone looks at her,” she continues. “She wears those little dresses with the low-cut tops, they're pulled down so far, her boobs are almost hanging out. Lynn was right, Laura really is a slut, even if she likes to pretend she's just playing the field. And if you want to be like all the other guys and stick your dick in crazy, then go right ahead. I literally don't give a shit!”
“But -”
“Make sure you use protection, though. With the amount of guys she's had, her body's probably swimming with every disease known to man. You'll be luck if your dick doesn't rot off.”
With that, she turns and storms away, and this time I don't really feel like following. I have no idea why she just made that crack about me sleeping with Laura, when she must know that's something I'd never, ever do.
“You see?” Nick mutters, having emerged from the pub with a pint in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “This is why I drink so much. To avoid remembering how bloody annoying these nights out are.”
***
By the time we get home several hours later, Nick and I are both pretty drunk. He heads straight to the sofa and passes out, while I drink some water in the kitchen before making my way upstairs. I bump against the wall a few times, and then suddenly Sophie's door opens just as I stumble past.
“I'm really sorry about what I said to you,” she babbles, almost tripping over the words. She's been crying, and she has a bottle of beer in her right hand. “I should never have been so mean.”
“It's okay,” I reply, trying to seem sober. “You were upset, I get it and -”
Suddenly she grabs my arm and pulls me into her room, before pushing the door shut and turning the key. When she turns to me again, it's clear that she's been drinking, and for a moment it looks as if she might be about to pass out.
“I drank way too much beer tonight,” I tell her. “I feel like the room is spinning.”
“Me too,” she replies, stepping closer. “I've been sitting here for hours, going over and over everything that happened, and I feel like maybe Laura is way more dangerous that we realized. Like, properly, seriously lethal!”
“But if -”
“What if she killed Tommy?”
I lean back against the wall, just to make sure I don't collapse. “What are you talking about?”
“He didn't commit suicide,” she continues, “I can feel it in here.” She taps her chest, roughly near her heart. “And if he didn't put that rope around his own neck, that means someone else was in his room and did it to him.”
“I think that's a bit of a leap,” I point out, spotting half a dozen empty beer bottles on her nightstand. “Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm really tired, and I need to sleep.”
“But think about it,” she adds, grabbing my hands. “Just because I'm drunk, that doesn't mean I'm wrong! Maybe I needed to be drunk so I could understand it better, so I could see past the forest of assumptions and realize the truth! What if Laura is really bat-shit crazy? We already know she tried to kill Lynn!”
“She didn't try to kill her,” I reply, “she just wanted to teach her a lesson. It was dumb, but it doesn't mean she's a murderer!”
“You don't believe that story, do you? Lynn called her a slut and obviously that set something off in Laura's head! Like, it was some kind of trigger that caused the facade to drop, and now she's out for revenge! That's how psychopaths work, they try really hard to fit in with the rest of us, but they can't manage it forever. For all we know, this might not even be the first time she's cracked! I mean, none of us knew her before we all arrived at uni, and she might have always covered her tracks before! Haven't you ever looked at her eyes and thought that maybe she's crazy?”
“Not really,” I mutter, feeling as if my eyelids are getting really heavy. “I have to sleep...”
“I think she killed Tommy and I'm going to prove it, and you're going to help me!”
“I don't want to join some kind of Scooby gang.”
“That's exactly what we are!” she continues, before reaching over and hitting the button on her stereo, setting a CD playing. “We don't want anyone to overhear our plans,” she explains, “or Laura might decide to come after us next. If she's a real psychopath, she won't let anything get in her way. She might even have bugged our rooms! This is dangerous shit, dude, and she might turn lethal if we underestimate her. But we're going to piece together the evidence and then she won't be able to deny it!”
“We'll talk about this in the morning, when we're both sober. I've got a feeling you might see things differently.”
“I want
to do this with you!”
I step past her, heading toward the door. “In the morning -”
Suddenly she grabs my arm and pulls me back. I turn, intending to tell her that I'm tired, but before I can say a word she leans closer and plants a loose, sloppy kiss on my lips. Her tongue immediately slips into my mouth and she pushes me back against the wall, kissing me with a kind of drunken passion that seems a little out of character. When our teeth bump together, she pulls back slightly and wipes a dribble of saliva from her chin.
“We finish uni in a few months,” she stammers, slurring her speech. “Don't you wanna know what this might be like?”
“I'm drunk,” I tell her, still shocked by that wet kiss, “and I think we should -”
She kisses me again, and this time she starts unbuttoning my shirt. I know I should push her away, and the kiss isn't exactly hot or erotic, but suddenly I feel her hands running across my chest and I lose all my remaining willpower. Placing my hands on her waist, I wait as she moves her hands down and starts unzipping my jeans, and I realize that something I've wanted for so long is finally about to happen.
I grab the front of her shirt and pull it up, and she raises her arms so I can slip the shirt off and toss it aside. Then she reaches back and unhooks her bra.
Chapter Twenty
Today
“You didn't remember any of it the next day,” I tell her, as we sit at the kitchen table. “We were both hungover, and you didn't remember anything after the fight with Laura.”
She stares at me, clearly still shocked.
“I thought about saying something,” I continue, “but how exactly was I supposed to bring it up? We drunkenly made out, it was pretty much the worst way it could have happened. We didn't really do much else anyway, if you know what I mean. It would have gone much further, but we both kinda passed out at the same time after a quick fumble, and then it just slipped from your mind. For the next couple of days, I kept expecting you to suddenly remember, but then I realized it genuinely seemed not to have stuck in your head. And by that point, I felt like telling you would only cause more trouble.”
