I crouch so I can look her straight in the eye. “Mikayla, this is important. Do you know who she was fighting with?”
“Uh-uh.”
I couldn’t get that lucky, could I? “Do you remember when the fight happened?”
“Uh-huh. It was on Sunday, because my mom always makes meatloaf on Sundays and we were eating.”
“That’s very helpful, thank you,” I say. “Is your mom friends with Miss Lauren?”
“I don’t know,” Mikayla says with a shrug. “Mostly she just gives her a ride to work sometimes because she doesn’t have a car.”
“Does your mom work at the hotel, too?”
“Uh-uh. She works in an office.”
She sniffles and wipes her nose on her shoulder.
“Okay,” I say, standing straight. “I think maybe you should go and get some rest. Will you do me one favor, please? Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay? I don’t want Miss Lauren to think she did anything wrong.”
“Okay,” she says.
I lower my voice and say, “And I promise I won’t tell anyone you were home by yourself. We don’t want your mom to get in trouble, do we?”
“Uh-uh,” she says, wariness settling on her features.
“I hope you feel better soon,” I say.
She shuts the door without saying anything else. I try Lauren’s doorknob one last time, just in case, then head back to my car, my stomach a hive of angry bees.
I promise I won’t tell.
I rest my forehead on the steering wheel. How could I say such a thing? It goes against everything I am. I saw the way she acted when mentioning a fight, the way she said her dad didn’t live there. She’s witnessed domestic violence, but she trusts women. She would’ve closed the door right away if she didn’t. I can’t pretend my words didn’t hurt her. I saw the flash of alarm. The betrayal.
But I knew exactly what I was doing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEN
“We have to go back and clean it up,” Becca said.
With the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder, I stirred through the milk in my bowl, trying to scoop Lucky Charms marshmallows without the cereal. I was in my pajamas, had cramps, and didn’t want to go anywhere, especially not the house, but if I said so she’d know I’d lied about my period.
“But if someone’s there?” I said.
“We can check first. But we have to clean it up or she’ll know. She has someone coming to look at the house this afternoon.”
“She won’t know it was us,” I said.
“But she’ll be extra careful with the keys. We might not be able to get in ever again. And since it was blood, she’ll call the police. And if they find our fingerprints, we’ll all get in trouble, not just me.”
They wouldn’t really check for fingerprints, would they? It hadn’t been that much blood. And maybe it would be good if we could never go there again. Maybe without the house …
But if I didn’t go, she’d probably never talk to me again, no matter how many times I apologized. Rachel and Gia wouldn’t either, not if Becca told them not to. And they were my best friends. Without them, I’d be alone.
I dropped the spoon in the bowl, sloshing milk on the table. “Fine, I’ll come.”
“Meet us on the field. Bring some paper towels, too,” she said, hanging up without a goodbye.
I dumped my bowl in the sink and went to change, grabbing a roll of paper towels on my way out. At least my mom was at work so I didn’t have to come up with an explanation.
The three of them really were waiting for me. When I was still too far away to hear, Rachel leaned over and spoke in Becca’s ear. Becca responded with a sharp look and a quick shake of her head. Not quite a no, more like a shut up. A cramp tightened my belly.
Rachel and Gia both had bottles of cleanser; Becca, a trash bag. We walked the rest of the way in silence.
As she unlocked the front door, Becca said, “Let’s check the rest of the house first.”
We followed her upstairs and checked every room and every closet. All empty. Empty on the first floor, too. Walking into the kitchen, Becca stopped so fast I banged into her and Rachel and Gia banged into me. Becca grabbed the wall to keep from falling.
“What is it?” I said.
She moved aside. The blood was gone.
“What happened to it?” Rachel said. “It was there. We all saw it.”
Nods all around, even from me.
“It disappeared,” Becca said.
“Just like in the stories,” Rachel said, all pug eyes.
“Maybe it’s still there and we just can’t see it,” Gia said.
Becca sprayed cleanser and I gave her the paper towels. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, she wiped the linoleum. Nothing on the paper towels. Not even a speck. “See?” she said.
“We should go,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, I need to get the key back,” Becca said. The rustling of the plastic bag as she knotted it was loud in the hush.
On the way back, after Rachel and Gia split off, Becca pulled my arm. “Now do you believe in her?”
I tongued the corner of my lips. “You came back and cleaned it all up.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
Her eyes held truth, but I didn’t want to believe her. Someone had to have cleaned it up. Blood didn’t just vanish on its own. And it probably hadn’t even been real, just the fake stuff they sold at Halloween.
“Why won’t you believe she’s real?” she said, half sad, half angry.
“Because she’s just a story, Becca.”
She was. She had to be. Witches weren’t real. Friends were. I wanted everything to go back to the way it was. I wanted Becca back the way she was.
She stepped so close the green edges of her bruise were blurry. “I think you know that’s not true. I think you believe in her as much as we do, you just don’t want to admit it.”
I stepped back, blew air through my nose. “I can’t admit to something that isn’t true.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter whether you admit it or not. I know you saw her.”
“Oh, and how do you know?”
“I told you, she talks to me. And she said you did.”
“You’re crazy if you think that.”
She poked my chest with a finger. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you ever say that. I’m not crazy.”
She walked away, her feet heavy. I called her name three times, but she didn’t even turn. I stood, thumbs crooked over my waistband, until she turned the corner and I couldn’t see her anymore. Then I waited even longer to see if maybe she’d come back, but she didn’t.
* * *
I waited two days before I called Becca. I didn’t like that I was scared to talk to her. Didn’t like that I almost hung up when she answered. But, like normal, I said, “Want to hang out?”
“I can’t,” she said.
There was talking in the background; she covered the phone and spoke, but I couldn’t hear what she said.
“Who’s that?” I said.
“The television. I just had to turn it down.”
I heard a familiar giggle, a Rachel giggle. If she was there, Gia was, too. I wiped tears away before they fell, so they didn’t count.
“Maybe later, then?” I said, trying to sound fine. I bit the side of a cuticle, ignoring the sharp sting.
“Sure,” she said, then added in a whisper, “It was their idea not to invite you. Don’t be mad at me. Why would you want to hang out with me anyway? I’m crazy, right?”
With that, she hung up. I hugged myself tight. What were the three of them doing right now? Were they talking about the Red Lady, or were they talking about me?
* * *
When my mom started vacuuming and told me to scoot, I took a book to the playground. There was a mom with a little kid near the slide, but by the time I climbed to the top of the monkey bars, they were on their way out. Swinging my legs, I read a few pages, the sun warm.
&nbs
p; A trill of laughter broke the quiet. My fingers clenched the bars; my stomach knotted. On the sidewalk passing the playground, Becca, Rachel, and Gia were walking together. I drew air to call out but clamped my lips shut. I was right there. All they had to do was look to the side. Then Becca did look. Her gaze caught mine, then she cat-blinked and looked away. I told myself it didn’t matter, but it did. It mattered more than anything in the whole world. I closed my eyes, not wanting to cry, and when I opened them again, my friends were gone. I felt like I had a huge hole inside me. If I’d told the truth the night of the second ritual, everything would be different. Becca would still be my best friend, and she’d be walking with me, not Rachel and Gia.
My side ached with a sharp pain in the wrong place to be a cramp. Hands in fists, not caring if anyone heard, not caring that she wasn’t real, I said, “You took my friends away from me; isn’t that enough? You made them hate me. Just leave me alone.”
I stayed at the playground for a little while longer, but every time I tried to read, the words jumbled in my head. I spent the rest of the day in my bedroom with the door closed.
For dinner, it was only me and Mom. Dad went to the Orioles game with his work friends. I pushed my peas in small circles and dragged my fork through my mashed potatoes. My mom started eating, but she kept sneaking peeks. Usually it was cool when it was the two of us, because we’d talk about stuff like periods and bras. My dad never cared if we talked about it around him, but it was easier when he wasn’t there.
“Is everything okay?” she said. “You seem a little down lately.”
I stared at my plate. “It’s nothing.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything at all.”
“I know,” I said.
I made myself eat, but everything tasted like nothing.
“You haven’t been hanging out with Becca much lately,” she said. “Did you two have a disagreement?”
I traced my initials in the condensation on my glass. “Sort of. She wants to hang out with Rachel and Gia instead of me. Like we’re not even friends anymore.”
My mom clasped her hands beneath her chin, elbows on the table. “Sometimes friendships change, sweetheart. Sometimes people’s interests change and they get closer to one friend or another for a little while.”
“But they’re not supposed to change like that. Becca’s my best friend,” I said.
“She can be friends with Rachel and Gia and still be your best friend.”
“Not if she doesn’t even want to talk to me.”
“Maybe you need to give her a little bit of time,” she said. “I’m sure everything will be okay, especially once school starts.”
All I could think of was sitting alone in the cafeteria. I’d rather die. My throat got thick, but I swallowed iced tea until it stopped and I had brain freeze. I didn’t want to cry in front of her. She acted as if she knew, but she didn’t. Maybe she could have a fight with her friends and be fine, but it wasn’t the same for me. She hadn’t seen how Becca’d looked at me, then looked away. Everything would not be okay. Not in a million years.
I tried to read for a while, but the story wouldn’t stick in my head, so I took a walk, ending up at the empty house. I knew they’d be there, even before I sneaked to the side and saw light peeking through the basement curtains. I didn’t want to go in. Didn’t want to sit outside either. Mostly, I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t want them to be mad at me. I decided to tell them what I’d felt the night of the ritual. I’d tell them I hadn’t admitted it because I hadn’t wanted her to be real. I’d tell them whatever they wanted to hear so we’d be friends again.
The door to the house was unlocked, like they knew I’d be coming, but I kept my footsteps light so I wouldn’t scare them. Laughter pealed out from the half-open basement door, first loud, then muffled, and I leaned against the doorframe.
Rachel said, “I think it’s better with Heather not here.”
Gia said something I couldn’t hear.
“Yeah, she’s been …”
“A bitch?” Rachel said, her whisper sharp as a nail.
They all giggled.
“I don’t understand why she’s been acting so weird,” Gia said.
“She’s dumb,” Rachel said.
Becca said, “She said I was crazy. Do you think I am?”
Rachel’s and Gia’s nos were clear as day. My fingernails bit into the wood. I didn’t think that. Her thinking the Red Lady was real was crazy. There was a big difference. She knew it, too.
“Maybe the Red Lady doesn’t like her,” Becca said. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t see her, why she didn’t dream about her.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t like her either,” Rachel said.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Becca said.
My eyes went all teary. How could they say those things? I’d never talk about them that way. I wanted to stomp down the steps and start yelling, but then they’d hate me even more. I wanted to run out of the house, but that would make me a chicken, so I called out, “Hello? Are you here?”
There was a bunch of furious whispering. Then Becca said, “Yeah, we’re here.”
I made sure to act normal. They were all sitting close and didn’t make a space for me, so I sat a little off to the side. “How come you didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight?”
Rachel and Gia shot side-eye looks at each other.
Becca shrugged. “We didn’t think you’d want to come, since we were talking about the Red Lady.”
“But maybe I would’ve. You could’ve at least asked. I mean, if you don’t want to be my friends anymore, just tell me.”
Rachel opened her mouth like she was surprised, but it was faker than fake. “We never said that.”
Gia said, “I don’t even know why you keep hanging out with us. It’s not like you want to do the stuff we want to.”
I waited for Becca to say something, to tell her she was wrong, but she didn’t. She looked at me, then past me like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t even there. That hurt most of all.
“I heard you,” I said. “I came here to say sorry, to try and make things right, and you’re talking about me? It’s better with me not here? I’m dumb? We’re supposed to be friends.”
Rachel put her head down, but I saw her smirking.
“If I didn’t want to hang out with you anymore, I’d tell you,” I said. “I wouldn’t be a chicken, sneaking around and acting like you didn’t exist. I wouldn’t walk past you on the playground and pretend I didn’t see you.” I looked straight at Becca. She didn’t turn away. Didn’t look embarrassed or guilty, either.
“You don’t care about the Red Lady. We do,” she said. “You don’t even think she’s real, so when we’re talking about her, you make faces and think we’re idiots for believing in her.”
“I do not.”
“Yes you do,” Gia said, bobbing her head with each word.
“It’s not our fault,” Becca said. “So stop acting like it is.”
“Then whose fault is it? Everything was fine until you started telling those stupid stories.” I flung out an arm.
“See?” Rachel said. “You think they’re stupid.”
“Why do you even care?” Gia said, pulling her chin down to her chest. “You should go home.”
“Yeah, go home,” Rachel said.
I waited, hoping Becca would tell them to shut up. She opened her mouth to speak, but coughed. Her eyes grew wide and she coughed again, pressing her forearm to her mouth. The back of my throat tickled, but I swallowed against it. Rachel’s and Gia’s mouths worked, too. Becca coughed a third time, thick and muffled, as though her mouth was full.
I felt dirt in my mouth and nose. I could taste it, dry and crumbling and mixing with my saliva into a thick paste, choking me, cutting off my air. I rolled onto my hands and knees, hanging my head low. Laughter filled my ears, a weight pressed on my chest, and that strange, sharp pain coiled in my side. I clawed at my face, trying to pull
out something that wasn’t there. Rachel and Gia were doing the same. Becca was on her side, fingers curled at her throat.
My head went swimmy. The laugh grew louder, the pain sharper. Everything hurt and the weight pushed me down and down and down. Someone touched the back of my head and spoke against my ear, but I couldn’t hear through the choking. Then, in the span of a blink, the dirt was gone. I shoved two fingers past my teeth, sure I’d find dirt or a ragged stump where my tongue should be.
Gia tugged the ends of her hair. Rachel hugged her stomach. Becca was pale, with shadows under her eyes. Rachel started crying, softly at first, then harder, her shoulders shaking back and forth. “Was that her?” she said.
“I don’t know,” Becca said.
“Why would she do that to us?” Gia said. “Why would she hurt us?”
“It’s her fault,” Rachel said, pointing at me. “Everything was fine until she showed up.”
My gaze locked on Becca’s, and her lips curled, the same thing she did when she got away with telling her mom a lie. Something crumpled inside my chest like a paper cup beneath a sneaker sole. I wished she’d really choked to death. I wished they all had. If my skin were laced with poison, I’d touch them and leave them writhing on the floor.
I bounded to my feet, took the stairs two at a time. I didn’t shut the door, didn’t care if anyone saw me leaving, didn’t care about anything except getting away. I ran across the field, kicking up dirt, and my chest hurt by the time I turned onto my street. My parents’ car wasn’t there, so I raced into the house and flipped the lock.
In my room, I stood in front of the mirror, still shaking, and opened my mouth as wide as I could. My tongue was there and there was no dirt, but I could taste it. That wasn’t the worst part at all. Inside, I was scooped out and filled with lava.
I unhooked the half-heart and threw it in my trash can. “I hate you,” I said. “I hate you all.” After a couple minutes, I fished the necklace out and put it in my dresser drawer, underneath a bunch of old T-shirts.
“I thought you were my friend,” I said. The lava kept bubbling and burning, and I wanted to pour it all over the three of them until they were nothing but a pile of charred bones. I didn’t even feel bad for thinking that. Not even a little. I hated them more than they could ever hate me.
The Dead Girls Club Page 16
