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Authors: Wendy Hinbest

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BOOK: Masquerade of Lies
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN—NEVER HAVE I EVER BEEN IN REHAB

 

We all frantically ran in and out of rooms, trying to find Jessica.

“Jessica! Where are you? Are you all right?” I called.

We shot into the main floor bathroom and found Jessica sprawled out on the marble tiled floor, unconscious.

“What’s wrong with her?” Katie asked.

“I don’t know!” I shouted.

I ran into the sitting room and collected Jessica’s Chanel bag. I dug through it and found an empty orange prescription pill bottle. The label said: HELEN STONE, VICODIN, 0.068 MG TABLET. TAKE ONE TABLET TWICE A DAY.

“Ohmigod! I think she took too many of those pills! Jessica!”

I ran towards her and dropped to the ground, landing on my knees. With the empty prescription bottle in my hand, I lifted Jessica’s head, but her body was limp.

“We have to make her throw up the pills.”

“Ewww!” whined Claire.

“We don’t have a choice. She can die!”

“Katie, this is
your
area of expertise,” Claire said with a smirk. Katie’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

“We don’t have time for this,” I said.

I grabbed Jessica’s arm and lifted her torso off the ground, then we staggered over to the toilet. I scanned the room for something long and narrow; there was nothing. I had to think fast. Suddenly, I realized what I had to do. I stuck my index and middle finger together and shoved them down her throat. She heaved a few times. Beads of sweat popped on my forehead. When she was done, she put her arms on the toilet and rested her head. She had dark circles around her eyes, and her face was pale. I leaned my head back for a second and shut my eyes, then took a deep breath and lowered my head again, opening my eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She looked at me blankly, then collapsed into a sob.


Why didn’t you just let me die?
” she wailed.

I gently touched her head. Katie stood there, stunned, with her hand on her chest while Claire’s face twisted in disgust. I inspected the empty pill bottle again.

“What are these?” I asked her.

“Painkillers,” she grumbled as she rubbed her eyes. “My mother started taking them for her back.”

“You have to stop, Jessica.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Katie, call the ambulance.” 

“No! Don’t! I’m fine,” Jessica protested.

“Jessica, you’re not fine! You tried to kill yourself! You need help.”

“No, what I need is for you to call my mother and tell her that I drank too much and she needs to come and get me.” Her voice sounded groggy.

“I don’t know, Jessica. This feels so wrong,” I said.

She gripped the toilet and slowly pushed herself up onto her feet. Her hair was dishevelled. She wobbled over to the wall mounted sink and flipped up the faucet, then leaned over and splashed some water on her face. After that, she grabbed the white Pottery Barn towel off the shelf below the sink and buried her face in it.

“Look…I’ll tell my mother the truth about what happened at the party, but not tonight. I had a moment of weakness, but I’m fine now. Really,” she said while shooting me a pleading look.

I glanced at Katie and Claire to see if they would back me up. Katie shrugged her shoulders, and Claire leaned on her hip with her arms crossed over her chest. Neither of them said a word. I looked at Jessica and nodded my head to say “fine.” She let out a breath of relief and curled her lips into a half-smile.

“Thanks,” she said. Her body looked thin and frail.

Katie went back into the sitting room, then scooped up her Samsung Galaxy S5 and called Jessica’s mom. Meanwhile, I helped Jessica to the couch so she could lie down, and Claire trailed behind me. I heard a car zoom by through the slightly open window behind the couch. A knot formed in my stomach as all my tragedies whirled around in my head: my parents fighting all the time; me cutting myself; the Simon thing;
Hessner
; everything. I looked down at my arm and lightly traced my finger over the scars.

“Hey, new girl! Are you OK?”

The roar of Claire’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said.

My throat felt tight, so I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. I leaned against the counter and took a long sip. Claire sparked up a joint and opened the window above the sink.

“You guys wanna smoke?” she asked.

“No, thanks,” I said. Katie shook her head no.

“Suit yourself.”

Katie sat on one of the bar stools surrounding the kitchen island. Pots and pans hung over her head; I was afraid they were going to topple on top of her. I put the glass of water on the counter and went back into the living room to check on Jessica. She looked like she was still sleeping, so I turned around to go back into the kitchen when I heard her voice.

“Hey, Hanna?” she said. I whirled around to face her. “Can you please get me my phone?”

“Sure. Where is it?” I asked.

“I think it’s in my bag in the foyer.” 

I marched past the kitchen and overheard the girls talking about an episode of
Revenge
. I spotted Jessica’s duffel bag sitting by the door and opened it to look for her phone when a piece of paper slipped between my fingers. I pulled it out to see what it was: it was a movie ticket stub for
The Boy Next Door
, dated September 25th, for an 8:10 pm showing. My heart lurched in my chest; that was the night Brooke died. Claire said she was with Jessica at her house that night going over their cheer routine for the homecoming game. Did they go to the movies? I have to find out, because if Claire wasn’t with Jessica, that means she could have killed Brooke! I then thought about the bloody shirt I found in Claire’s closet, and my world started spinning. As I leaned against the wall to get my bearings, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

The blare of the doorbell startled me, and I pulled opened the door to find Jessica’s mom standing there. She had a heart-shaped face and thick blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a beige Burberry London trench coat, and she clutched the purse strap on her shoulder.

“Where is my daughter?” she asked.

As Claire and Katie wandered into the room, I pointed towards the sitting room. Jessica’s mom rushed past me. I then closed the door, and we all wandered into the sitting room. I was still in shock about what I’d just learned, and a huge lump was in my throat.

“Jessica!” her mom said as she carefully lifted her head off the edge of the couch.

“Mom?” Jessica sat up, and her mom sat down beside her.

Jessica brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. 

“What happened?” her mother asked anxiously.

“I…I guess I drank too much. It was dumb, Mom. I’m sorry.” Jessica looked at her mom all doe-eyed.

“This is my fault. Is this because I’ve been working so much? I’ll try to be home more.” 

Claire rolled her eyes. She wished her mother would say something like that to her.

“No…really, it’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

“Come on. Let’s go home.” 

They both stood up, and her mother led her towards the door.

I pulled Jessica aside. “Before you go, I need to ask you something,” I said.

She wrinkled her brow. “What is it?”

“When I went to get your phone out of your bag, I found a movie stub for
The Boy Next Door
. It was for an 8:10 pm showing on September 25th–the night Brooke died.”

“Yeah...?”

“Did you go to the movies that night with Claire?” 

She held my gaze for a moment, then looked down. “No,” she said in a soft voice as she shook her head from left to right.” 

My eyebrows shot up, and I gently squeezed her arm. “Jessica...are you sure?” I asked.

She looked up at me. “Yeah…I’m sure. I went to the movies with Shawn Pillar.”

“Was Claire at your house that night?” She shook her head no.

“Come on, Jessica, let’s go!” her mom bellowed.

Jessica walked away and put on her shoes as her mother fetched her bag. She opened the door to leave, but just before she did, she turned around and mouthed “Thanks,” and with that they were gone.

Claire caught me staring at her. “What?” she asked with a sneer.

“N-nothing,” I replied.

We all gathered in Claire’s bathroom to do our make-up. After everything that had happened that night, it didn’t feel right going to the homecoming dance without Jessica.

“Ohmigod!  So much drama, and we haven’t even gone to the homecoming dance yet!” Claire blurted.

“I know, right?” Katie said while applying royal blue eye shadow to her eyelids.

“By the way, nice job getting elected for homecoming queen new girl?”

“You’re not mad?” I asked.

“No! Why would I be mad? That would mean that I’m worried about my competition.” She looked me up and down. “No offense, but I’m not worried.”

“Do you think Jessica’s telling the truth about being raped?” Katie asked changing the subject.

“What kind of question is that?” I asked angrily as I picked up my MAC concealer.

Katie looked at me with an awkward look on her face as I slowly rubbed the concealer over the bruise on my forehead.


Come on, new girl
. You saw what she was wearing the night of Angela’s party,” Claire said. “He probably pissed her off, so she’s telling everybody he raped her to get back at him. I know how Jessica’s sick mind works.”

“Yeah, but that’s the same guy that tried to rape me!” I protested.

“How do you know? You didn’t see him.”

“Because she described the same guy! Besides, if it’s not true, why did she try and kill herself?”

“For attention! You think this is the first time she’s done this?” Claire stopped coloring her eyes and peered at me. “Oh, that’s right. You
don’t
know.”

“Know what?” I said.

I looked at Katie as her eyes lowered. She stood still with a container of hot pink lip gloss in her hand. “Katie?” I said.

Claire put down her mascara and sauntered towards me.

“Jessica has done this before, sweetie. Actually, she’s been in rehab a couple of times for drug addiction.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” 

Claire slowly nodded her head as her earrings dangled from her earlobes. Her eyes were squinted, and her mouth twisted into a smile. She leaned into one hip.

“Jessica is a hot mess, new girl. Don’t let her drag you in her shit.” She walked back to the mirror and started tracing her eyes with black eyeliner. “I’m not going to let her ruin my night, and you shouldn’t either.”

That was probably why she didn’t want me to tell her mom about what really happened tonight. I then thought about the fact that Claire blatantly lied about where she was the night Brooke was murdered. How could I possibly believe
anything
she said? 

I turned towards the mirror and slowly smeared clear lip gloss on my puckered lips. After we finished putting on our faces, we each slipped into our dresses. Katie wore a royal blue form-fitting strapless Sherri Hill dress. It had a sweetheart neckline and long lengths of material that fell to the floor. Claire had on a stunning baby blue strapless Christina Dior with a matching clutch, and I sported the yellow Armani gown that Claire “bought” for me. The three of us looked like celebrities about to walk the red carpet.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and a smile bloomed on Claire’s face.

“I wonder who that can be?” she sing-songed.

She strode down the stairs as Katie and I followed. She pulled open the door and gawked in disbelief. Josh, Mark and Shane were standing there. They were dressed like they were about to do a Calvin Klein photo shoot. Josh wore a grey suit with an "electric blue vest and tie. His hair was peaked.

“Josh!” Claire beamed as she threw her arms around his neck. He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

“Uh…watch the lip gloss.” 

“Oh…sorry.” 

Josh and I exchanged looks because of what transpired earlier that day.

“Shane!” Katie blared as she lunged towards him.

Her eyes were glittering with inner light. Shane modeled a black tuxedo with royal blue accessories. He had shaggy blonde hair and sky blue eyes that were spaced evenly apart. He had a rectangular face with a defined chin and strong jawline. Mark stood there looking confident with his hands in his pants pockets. He had on a black tuxedo with a black tie.

“Hey gorgeous.” I lowered my head and smiled coyly.

“Hey Mark.” His cheeks dimpling as he smiled.

“Okay, ladies, let’s bounce. Your limo awaits,” said Josh.

“You got a limo?” Claire shrilled. She dashed to the door and peeked outside, then clapped her hands in delight.

BOOK: Masquerade of Lies
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