Choker (12 page)

“And he’ll be wondering, ‘Who is this crazy guy, and what the hell is he talking about?’” Cara replied, laughing.

Just then, someone behind her said, “Bitch”—very loudly, very clearly.

Cara turned, her laughter dying in her throat. Alexis was standing in the doorway leading to the patio, vodka fumes hanging around her in a cloud. Maren and another girl stood behind her, along with Jack. Their eyes were shiny with interest, like theatergoers getting ready for the show. Alexis wavered, steadying herself with a hand on the doorjamb. Her hair was mussed up at the back and flattened on one side, and her mascara was smudged.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she spat, her eyes narrowed. The venom in her voice drove Cara back against the couch arm. “You didn’t even know Sydney. She hated you, you loser.” The living room full of people grew quiet. There was no sound, except for the occasional clink of ice in a glass.

“We used to laugh at you all the time, did you know that?” Alexis was slurring some of her words. She stumbled, almost losing her balance, and caught herself. “Sydney always said you were the best entertainment at Sherman,
Choker
.” She lingered over the word, drawing it out.

Cara could feel the roomful of avid, shiny eyes fixed on her back. She wanted to run away but couldn’t. Her eyes felt locked onto Alexis’s twisted face. Her eyes were terribly bloodshot, and the rims were puffy. Her skin looked dull and pasty. “You’re such a creep, Cara. Sydney knew that about you. You’re so pitiful. And now she’s dead and you’re not.”

Alexis brought her face so close, Cara could see a vein throbbing in the middle of her forehead. “It should have been you in that swimming pool, Cara. It should have been you that night—not Sydney. It should have been you.” She was screaming now. Spit sprayed from her lips onto Cara’s forehead. Cara’s body began an uncontrollable trembling.

“Alexis! Shut up!” Ethan grabbed her by the arm and hauled her back a few steps. He gripped her shoulders. “You’re drunk. Go lie down. You’re being a total bitch.”

“Why don’t
you s
hut up, Ethan.” Jack stepped forward from the doorway. The crowd gasped.

Ethan glanced at Jack, his face hard. “Stay out of this.” He tried to steer Alexis out of the room, but she shook off his arm.

“Get off me!” she screamed. “What are you doing, defending this loser? Fuck off, Ethan!” Her voice was terrible, like a buzz saw in the quiet. Ethan dropped back a step, his arms by his sides, and Alexis whirled around with a sob and ran from the room. The front door slammed.

The silence in the house was thick. Cara tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat was still huge. Blindly, she turned away from the crowd, stumbled back into the kitchen, and bent over the sink, gripping the cold metal edge with her sweaty palms. She willed herself not to be sick. Behind her, she could hear faint murmurs beginning.

She stared out the window over the sink. The yard glowed in the night, brightly lit by floodlights. Then Cara blinked. She thought she saw movement near the back, like someone slipping behind the garage. She could have sworn she saw the flutter of long black hair. But before she could think about it anymore, Ethan’s warm hand touched her back.

“You okay?” he asked. Cara looked into his face. His icy blue eyes were concerned. She nodded shakily and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. She couldn’t look at Ethan. Did he agree with those things Alexis said? Did he think she was a creep and a loser?

The party was over. People started gathering jackets and bags and trickling out the door. No one said much. Outside, cars started up. The living room was a depressing shambles of spilled drinks and mashed cups. Sarit was already trailing around with a large garbage bag, picking up.

Cara could feel the tears slowly running down the sides of her nose. She knew her face was getting all blotchy and swollen. Suddenly a wad of fresh, soft tissues appeared in front of her. She looked up. Ethan was holding them out.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

Chapter 13

T
HE NIGHT AIR WAS COOL AND STILL. A HUGE
orange harvest moon hung in the eastern sky. Cara walked next to Ethan in silence, her hands stuffed into her parka pockets. Their footsteps made soft, scuffing noises in the leaves that had fallen on the sidewalk. When had that happened? Fall had come without Cara even noticing. The last she remembered, the leaves were still green on the trees.

Ethan’s shoulder bumped hers slightly. “Sorry,” he apolo-gized.

“It’s okay,” she whispered huskily. She wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t going to start crying again.

They tromped past the neat brick houses lined up along the street like sentinels. Each lawn was a perfect square, dark green and silvery with early frost. The street was empty and dark except for the yellow glow of one streetlamp at the end. Cara imagined she could hear the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the houses they passed.

Ethan was silent, his hands in his coat pockets. Cara wondered if he was mad. At her? At the whole situation? Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“Ethan—” Her voice sounded faint and trembly in the still night air. Cara realized she’d never said his name out loud to him before. It tasted foreign in her mouth. She stopped. She didn’t know what to say after that.

“Cara, I’m sorry,” Ethan said. “That whole thing was my fault.”

“What?” she asked. “How could it be your fault?”

He shook his head. “I saw how drunk she was getting. I should have taken her home then.” He paused. “I just get tired of dealing with her moods—especially lately.” He glanced over at her. “I feel like a jerk for saying that.”

“No!” Cara reassured him. “It must be hard to take care of someone during a time like this.” She glanced up at his face as they walked. His profile was outlined against the moonlight. A brisk breeze ruffled her hair, and Cara shivered involuntarily. Ethan glanced down.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head, but he took a pair of heavy fleece gloves from his pocket and handed them to her. She drew them on. They were way too big, but warm. She resisted the urge to rub them against her face.

“Yeah, Alexis can be kind of hard to get along with sometimes.” A wry smile twisted the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know if you’d noticed that.”

Cara giggled. “A little.”

They walked in silence for a while, but it wasn’t awkward anymore.

“Can I tell you something?” Cara said after a minute.

Ethan nodded. His eyes were calm.

Cara took a deep breath. “It’s just something that’s been on my mind for a while.” She paused. Ethan waited. “It’s just that—well, I heard from my mom that Sydney’s death . . . may not have been totally an accident.” She felt the weight of the secret ease a little just saying it aloud.

Ethan’s brows creased. “What do you mean?”

Cara shook her head. “That’s all I know.”

“Like, someone pushed her or something?” Ethan stopped walking.

“I don’t know!” The words came out louder than Cara intended. She lowered her voice. “Seriously. It’s just freaking me out thinking that Sydney could have taken her own life, or even that someone else could have been involved . . .” She hadn’t let herself entertain that thought before, but saying it aloud made it seem like a real possibility. Could someone have wanted Sydney dead?

Ethan put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay. Look, don’t worry.” He dropped his arm and started walking again. “They’re probably just trying to be really thorough.”

“Yeah.” Cara focused instead on how it had felt to have Ethan’s arm around her, and she let herself be comforted.

They passed through a little “downtown” section—a bakery, a shoe repair, an architect’s office, a dentist, the windows all darkened. The police station, brightly lit, the squad cars pulled up out front like a row of shiny bullets. An older woman came toward them with a golden retriever on a leash and passed quickly, the dog straining to sniff their legs.

“Can I ask you something?” Ethan said.

Cara nodded.

“Why are you so quiet at school?”

She paused. Had he been watching her at school? All that time she thought he was totally consumed by Alexis. She realized he was waiting for an answer. But how do you answer a question like that? “Well, I’m actually a deaf-mute by day. Like being a vampire but not as fun.”

Ethan snorted, and she grinned at him and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I get the hint,” he said. “I won’t ask nosy questions.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Cara resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest like a shield. She sighed. “I just feel out of place. It’s actually kind of like what you were talking about before, how you felt in middle school. Except it’s still happening to me. Like I think people are watching me, but I don’t know how to act or what to say. It just seems easier to stay out of the way.” She couldn’t believe she was just spilling her guts like this. But it was like the soft night had transformed her into someone else. She laughed a little.

“What?” Ethan smiled a little.

Cara shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never said that out loud to anyone before. I’ve never even admitted it to myself, I don’t think. But I don’t know, things have been different recently. I’ve gotten . . . back in touch with this old friend, Zoe—she was my best friend until we moved here. Anyway, she’s one of those people that can make you act crazy. You know them?” Up ahead, she could see her house, the porch light glowing, at the end of the block. Her parents’ cars were in the driveway.

Ethan laughed. “Yeah, I’ve definitely known a few of them.” His hand swung down and brushed hers. The shock of his skin warmed her right to her bones.

“This is my house.”

“Nice,” Ethan said. “Now that I know where you live, I can come harass you whenever I want.” He grinned.

“Definitely.” Did Ethan Gray really just suggest he was going to come over sometime? Could this really be happening? Maybe someone had slipped something into her drink at Sarit’s, and she was hallucinating. If so, it was the best hallucination of all time.

He stood at the foot of the driveway, hands stuffed in his pockets, waiting until she had unlocked the front door. She turned and waved before she went in, then shut the door.

Inside, the house was dark and still. Her parents were probably in bed. Cara floated up the stairs. She hoped Zoe was still up. She couldn’t wait to tell her about tonight. The Ethan part, not the Alexis part. Funny how one night could be so great, and so terrible, all at once.

Reaching her room, Cara opened the door softly, in case Zoe was already in bed. The lights were off, but even in the dim light from the hall Cara could see the wrinkled sheets. The bed was empty.

“Honey, I’m home!” Cara called softly. She shut the bedroom door behind her and looked around. “Zoe?” Cara went over to the bathroom, already anticipating Zoe’s figure standing at the cluttered sink. But the bathroom was deserted too, the pink polka-dotted shower curtain pushed to one side. Cara knelt and pressed her hand on the bath mat, which lay wrinkled on the floor. It was damp.

“Zoe?” Cara said again. No answer. Cara stood in the middle of the room, looking around, the panic rising in her belly. “Zoe?” Her voice quavered, like a lost little girl’s in the dark.

Cara sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. Maybe she was overreacting. After all, Zoe had said she was getting antsy. Maybe she just went out to the barn. A little wave of relief rushed through her at the thought. That was it. She’d gotten bored and was hanging out in the barn for a little change of pace. She’d probably be home before Cara had even fallen asleep.

She flicked on the bathroom light and squirted some makeup remover on a cotton ball. She rubbed it over her eyelids. Zoe’s disappearance was vaguely irritating—after all, she’d told her how dangerous it was for her to go out. But on the other hand, at least it was nighttime. Hopefully, Zoe had the sense to stay in the barn and not go anywhere she might be seen.

Cara dropped the black-smeared cotton ball into the wastebasket and stuck her toothbrush under the tap. She examined her face in the mirror as she brushed, expecting herself to look different somehow. This was the face of someone who’d walked home with Ethan Gray. And they’d really connected—she just felt it.

Cara bared her teeth, toothpaste foaming around her mouth. White and straight, thanks to three years of braces. She turned her head slowly right and left. Normally, she avoided mirrors. But tonight she looked almost pretty. Her new short hair fluffed out around her face, and her cheeks were flushed from excitement and the cold. Her eyes were wide open and sparkling. She could almost,
almost
imagine that she was a girl Ethan would find attractive.

Cara rinsed her toothbrush and hit the light, plunging the bathroom into darkness. Shedding her wrinkled black dress, she threw herself across her bed and pulled the soft old cotton comforter around her shoulders. As delicious sleep overtook her, she hoped that Zoe, wherever she was, was being careful.

Cara was dreaming. Ten-year-old Zoe’s face floated in front of her. Her long black hair was held back by a headband, showing her high white forehead. She held up a can with a blue drawing of a rodent on the front, and Cara felt an odd mix of excitement and dread in her belly. She knew what was going to happen, but she couldn’t stop it. She had to watch until the dream was over.

Cara looked down at herself. She was wearing the denim shorts and yellow T-shirt that had been her favorite in fifth grade. The leather sandals she wore endlessly that year were on her feet, the right buckle broken, as it always had been. All around her, Zoe’s backyard in the old neighborhood spread out in Technicolor. The grass was eye-poppingly green, and the sky overhead glowed the blue of sapphires. In pantomime, Zoe waggled the can in front of Cara’s eyes. Cara felt her head nod, even though inside she was screaming, “Wait!”

Slowly, she and Zoe walked over to the broken-down chain-link fence. The neighbor’s German shepherd was chained today. He lunged for them, straining against his collar, barking furiously and silently. Cara’s dream-self ran her hand over the bandage on her arm. She remembered the blood gushing from the bite wound, and all of a sudden, a hot, glad fury filled her heart. She watched Zoe shake the poisonous blue crystals into a can of dog food. They gleamed on the wet brown surface like rare jewels. Zoe stirred the crystals with a stick, then held the can out to Cara. Her face was horribly eager. Cara watched her hand go out and take the can. She shoved it through the bottom of the fence and crouched down next to Zoe. The dog, immediately distracted, hunched over, chewing and licking until nothing remained but the shiny-clean can.