I watched Lindsay fish out a Listerine strip and place one in her mouth, grimacing slightly. Then she went to work with her makeup, touching up her mascara and reapplying her lip gloss. The bathroom was small, but she seemed very far away.
Finally she said, Its not a habit or anything. I think I just ate too quickly.
Okay, I said, and forever afterward I didnt know if she was telling the truth.
Dont tell Al or Elody, okay? I dont want them freaking out over nothing.
Obviously, I said.
She paused, pressed her lips together, puckered them at the mirror. Then she turned toward me. You guys are my family. You know that, right?
She said it casually, as though she were complimenting my jeans, but I knew that it was one of the most sincere things shed ever said to me. I knew that she really meant it.
We went to the party in the arboretum as planned. Elody and Ally had a great time, but I got a stomachache and had to double up on the hood of Allys car. Im not sure if it was the food or what, but it felt like something was trying to claw its way out of my stomach.
Lindsay had a great night: that night she kissed Patrick for the first time. Three months later, at the tail end of the summer, they had sex. When she told us about losing her virginity to her boyfriendthe candles, the blanket on the floor, the flowers, the whole nine yardsand how great it was that her first time was so romantic, none of us even batted an eyelash. We all rushed in and congratulated her, asked her for details, told her we were jealous. We did it for Lindsay, to make her happy. She would have done it for us.
Thats the thing about best friends. Thats what they do. They keep you from spinning off the edge.
WHERE IT BEGINS
Lindsay, Elody, and Ally must head upstairs as soon as they arriveconsidering theyre packing their own vodka, its a safe betbecause I dont see them again until an hour or so later. Ive had three shots of rum and it all hits me at once: the room is a spinning, blurring world of color and sound. Courtney has just finished off the bottle of rum so I get a beer. I have to concentrate on every step, and when I get to the keg I stand there for a second, forgetting what Ive come for.
Beer? Matt Dorfman fills a cup and holds it out to me.
Beer, I say, pleased the word comes out so clear, pleased that I remembered that this is what I wanted.
I make my way upstairs. Things register in short bursts, a movie reel thats been chopped up: the feel of the rough wood banister; Emma McElroy leaning back against a wall, her mouth open and gaspingmaybe laughing?like a fish on a hook; Christmas lights winking, blurred light. Im not sure where Im going or who Im looking for, but all of a sudden theres Lindsay across the room and I realize Ive made it all the way to the back of the house, the cigarette room. Lindsay and I look at each other for a second and Im hoping shell smile at me, but she just looks away. Allys standing next to her. She bends forward and whispers something to Lindsay, then makes her way over to me.
Hey, Sam.
Did you have to ask permission to talk to me? These words dont come out so clearly.
Dont be a bitch. Ally rolls her eyes. Lindsays really upset about what you said.
Is Elody mad? Elodys in the corner with Steve Dough, swaying against him while he talks to Liz Hummer like shes not even there. I want to go over and hug her.
Ally hesitates, looks at me from under the fringe of her bangs. Shes not mad. You know Elody.
I can tell Allys lying, but Im too drunk to pursue it.
You didnt call me today. I hate that Ive said it. It makes me feel like an outsider again, like someone trying to break into the group. Its only been a day, but I miss them: my only real friends.
Ally takes a sip of the vodka shes holding, then winces. Lindsay was freaking out. I told you, she was really upset.
Its true though, isnt it? What I said.
It doesnt matter if its true. Ally shakes her head at me. Shes Lindsay. Shes ours. Were each others, you know?
Ive never really thought of Ally as smart, but this is probably the smartest thing Ive heard in a long time.
You should say youre sorry, Ally says.
But Im not sorry. Im definitely slurring now. My tongue is thick and weighty in my mouth. I cant make it do what I want it to. I want to tell Ally everythingabout Mr. Daimler and Anna Cartullo and Ms. Winters and the Pugsbut I cant even think of the words.
Just say it, Sam. Allys eyes have started to roam around the party. Then suddenly she takes a quick step backward. Her mouth goes slack and she brings a hand to her mouth.
Oh my God, she says, staring over my shoulder. Her mouths curving up into a smile. I dont believe it.
It feels like time freezes as I turn around. I read once that at the edge of a black hole, time stops completely, so if you ever sailed into it, youd just be stuck there at the lip forever, forever being torn apart, forever dying. Thats what it feels like in that second. The crush of people circled around me, an endless lip, more and more people.
And there she is standing in the doorway. Juliet Sykes. Juliet Sykeswho yesterday blew her brains out with her parents handgun.
Her hair is tied up in a ponytail and I cant help it; I picture it knotted and clotted with blood, a big gaping hole directly underneath her little flip of hair. Im terrified of her: a ghost in the door, the kind of stuff you have nightmares about when youre a kid, the kind of thing they make horror movies about.
A phrase comes back from a news show I had to watch about the convicts on death row for my ethics and issues elective: dead man walking. I thought it was awful when I first heard it, but now I really understand it. Juliet Sykes is a dead man walking. I guess I am too, in a way.
No, I say, without meaning to say it out loud. I take a step backward, and Harlowe Rosen squeals and says, Thats my foot.
I dont believe it, Ally says again, but it sounds far away. Shes already turning away from me, calling out to Lindsay over the music. Lindsay, did you see who it is?
Juliet sways in the doorway. She looks calm, but her hands are balled into fists.
I throw myself forward, but everyone chooses that moment to press even closer around me. I cant watch it again. I dont want to see what happens next. Im not very steady on my feet, and I keep getting knocked back and forth, rocketing between people like a pinball, trying desperately to get out of the room. I know Im stepping on people and throwing elbows in their backs, but I dont care. I need out.
Finally I break through the knot of people. Juliet is blocking the doorway. Shes not even looking at me. Shes standing as still as a statue, her eyes locked some distance over my shoulder. Shes looking at Lindsay. I understand then that its Lindsay she really wantsits Lindsay she hates the mostbut it doesnt make me feel any better.
Just as Im about to push past her, a tremor runs through her body and she locks eyes with me.
Wait, she says to me, and puts a hand on my wrist. Its as cold as ice.
No. I pull away from her and keep going, stumbling forward, nearly choking on my fear. Jumbled images of Juliet keep flashing in my mind: Juliet doubled over, hands outstretched, drenched in beer and stumbling; Juliet lying on a cold floor in a pool of blood. Im not thinking clearly, and in my head the two images merge and I see her roving around the room while everyone laughs, her hair soaked, dripping, drenched in blood.
Im so distracted I dont see Rob in the hallway until Ive run straight into him.
Hey. Rob is drunk now. He has an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Hey, you.
Rob I press myself against him. The world is spinning. Lets get out of here, okay? Well go to your house. Im ready now, just me and you.
Whoa, cowgirl. One half of Robs mouth ticks slowly upward, but the other doesnt quite manage to join it. After the cigarette. He starts moving toward the back of the house. Then well go.
No! I nearly scream it.
He turns back to me, swaying, and before he can react, Ive already plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and Im kissing him, my hands cupped on either side of his face, shoving my body into his. It takes him a second to realize whats happening, but then he starts pawing me over my dress, rolling his tongue around in circles, groaning a little bit.
Were both staggering back and forth in the hallway, almost like were dancing. I feel the floor buckle and roll, and Rob accidentally pushes me hard against the wall and I gasp.
Sorry, babe. His eyes cross, uncross.
We need a room. From the back of the house I can just hear the chanting starting. Psycho, Psycho. We need a room now.
I take Robs hand and we stumble down the hall, forcing our way against the tide of people moving in the other direction. Theyre all going to see what the noise is about.
In here. Rob slams as hard as he can against the first closed door he comes to, the one with all the bumper stickers. Theres a popping sound and we both tumble inside. I kiss him again and try to lose myself in the feeling of the closeness of our bodies and his warmth, try to block out the rising howls of laughter from the back room. I pretend Im just a body with a mind as blank and fuzzy as a TV full of snow. I try to shrink myself down, center myself in my skin, like the only feeling that exists is in Robs fingers.
Once the door is shut its pitch-black. The darkness around us hasnt let up at alleither there are no windows here or theyre curtained off. Its so dark its almost heavy-looking, and I get a sudden hysterical fear that were stuck in a box. Robs lurching on his feet so much by this point, his arms locked around me, it makes me dizzy. I feel a wave of nausea, and I push him backward until we encounter something soft: a bed. He tips over and I climb on top of him.
Wait, he mumbles.
Isnt this what you wanted? I whisper. Even now I can hear the sounds of laughter and the screamingPsycho, Psychopiping thinly over the music. I kiss Rob harder and he wrestles with the zipper of my dress. I hear fabric ripping but I dont care. I slide the dress down to my waist, and Rob starts his attack on my bra.
Are you shure about this? Rob slurs in my ear.
Just kiss me. Psycho, Psycho. The voices are echoing down the hall. I slide my hands under Robs fleece and wrestle it over his head, then start kissing his neck and underneath the collar of his polo shirt. His skin tastes like sweat and salt and cigarettes, but I keep kissing while his hands move over my back and down toward my butt. An image of Mr. Daimler on top of meand the speckled ceilingrises out of the darkness, but I push it away.