“Another victim,” I said, and headed for the stairway.
I paused in front of her door. The sign was there. It was probably her way of convincing herself that she had to fight off friends. Things had obviously turned sour very quickly for Kiera at this school. I was surprised that she continued to attend, although if she hadn’t, she would have risked everyone learning how unpopular she really was. She had been used to being a star at Pacifica and probably came on too strong here, where there were girls who were just as sophisticated and as self-confident, if not more so.
I knocked on the door. There was no response, so I tried the door handle, and it turned and opened.
The room was dark because the shades were drawn on the two windows, and the
re were no lights on. I saw her in her bed, lying on her stomach. I waited to see if she had heard me enter, but she was apparently asleep, dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt. I looked for a light switch and then closed the door softly. She didn’t wake even when I turned on the lights.
I picked up the chair at her desk and set it down where I could sit and look at her. For a moment, I wondered if she had taken some drugs and maybe overdosed again, but her eyelids fluttered and opened. She stared at me without speaking and slowly pushed herself up, the confusion twisting her face. She sat back against the headboard.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to ask you why you did it,” I said. She started to speak, and I quickly added, “Don’t say, ‘Did what?’ ”
“So my father told you everything, is that it? I can’t believe you drove up.”
“I wanted to look at you when you answered, Kiera. I wanted to see what was in your face so I would know what was in your heart. Do you have a heart?”
“Oh, don’t go into any of that,” she said.
“What?”
“Analysis.”
“I won’t. Analysis implies wanting to help you. I don’t want to help you. I was just curious. I remember all those nice things you said after you almost died taking that drug. I remember how you cried and how you apologized and told me about your nightmares. I remember how much you said you missed your little sister and regretted not spending more time with her and being kind to her. I remember your great desire to be my older sister, to be my pal. I remember it all, Kiera, down to every last syllable you spoke and every promise you made.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that. I did try to be a big sister to you, and what did you do? You tried to take my place.”
“Take your place? Where?”
“In my house! In my father’s eyes! You were the good one, the perfect new daughter, outstanding in school, playing Alena’s clarinet so well, getting the best grades, charming him into buying you that car and jewelry, and when that wasn’t enough, you tempted him to come to your bedroom.”
“What? Is that what he said?”
“He didn’t have to say it. I know.”
“What did I ever do to make you think such a thing?”
“It’s all right,” she said, nodding. “I know.”
“So this was why you called to tell him about Ryder? You were trying to make me look bad again? That didn’t work the first time you tried. Why did you think it would work now?”
She didn’t answer.
“You planned it all, didn’t you? You talked me into getting Ryder to meet me at the motel, all along plotting to turn us in, right?”
“I was sick of hearing him tell me how smart you were, how talented, and how beautiful you were becoming,” she admitted. “He never gave me credit for being smart. Yes, he told me I was beautiful, but not like he talked about you. You were exotically beautiful, special, a weed that became a rose. And my mother . . . I told myself that if she bragged one more time about you, I would curse her so badly that she wouldn’t speak to me again. At least, it would stop.”
“Don’t you realize what you’ve done? What a terrible thing you caused to happen?”
“It probably would have happened anyway. If anything, you should be thanking me for getting you out of what would have been a big mess later.”
“You can tell yourself that to make yourself feel better if you like, but you know it’s a lie. Your whole life is built on lies. That’s all you know. You’re pathetic, even more pathetic than I first thought when I saw you after the accident.”
I stood up.
“Don’t go off feeling superior,” she said. Her eyes were glassy, teary. “You aren’t any different from me. You’re just better at hiding it.”