Mortal Danger (The Immortal Game) (26 page)

Then they left the table that they’d staked out freshman year to sit with the three of us, leaving Allison alone. Her cheeks were hot with rage or shame, her eyes dark as thunderclouds. She lowered her head and went back to her lunch, but the other students were smirking at her. Her behavior was odd, like she felt she had to be extra mean to make up for Brittany’s loss.

“That was too far,” Cam said, and the other guys nodded.

Like you’d know.
But obviously he had a different rulebook for girls like Brittany. She deserved better than I had. I stared hard at him, remembering.

To her credit, Davina didn’t say anything about Allison; she was focused on Russ. “I’ve texted twelve times and he hasn’t answered. Is he replying to anyone else?”

Cam checked his phone. “Nope. And I’m sorry for what I said before.”

God, I hated seeing him act … human, apologizing to people. In my mind, he was a horned, cloven-hoofed monster with no redeeming qualities. One by one, the rest of the table scrolled through texts and then shook their heads.

“I’ll call Russ’s house. I’m sure his mom can tell me what’s going on.” Cam waited while it rang, then said, “Mrs. Thomas? This is Cameron Dean.” A pause. “Yes, it’s awful.” Another pause. “Thanks, I hope so too. I was wondering if Russ is sick. I can bring his—what?” He stopped talking, eyes widening. “No, I haven’t seen him in days. And he wasn’t at Brit’s funeral, either. No, I’m sorry. Yes, that’s fine. I’m
sorry
.”

Shaken, he dropped his cell on the table as a bad feeling swelled in my stomach. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

Cam answered, “Russ told his mom he was staying with me for a few days … because of Brit. So I didn’t have to be alone. His parents thought he was at my place this whole time.”

“Oh my God.” Jen’s face paled. “Shit. So he’s …
missing
?”

Hearing it put into words, Davina burst into tears.

THE SLEEP OF REASON

That afternoon, I went home with Jen and Davina. Jen’s mother was a beautiful Thai woman who spoke perfect English. She looked as if she might’ve been a former model or actress, which explained Jen’s good looks. Ms. Bishop was also polite and charming, delighted to meet Jen’s new friends. Or so she said; I was inclined to believe her. She drove us to a restored three-story Victorian out near Beacon Hill. That alone told me the family had money, but the inside was breathtaking, tastefully decorated in an East-West-fusion style that was calming and warm.

“I’m sure the three of you don’t need me to hover,” she said, hanging up her jacket in the hall closet. “So Jen can show you to her room, but let me or the housekeeper know if you need anything.”

So it’s that kind of house.

“Come on.” Jen went through to the hall, the walls a pale cream that contrasted beautifully with the dark wood of the staircase.

I’d always liked our apartment; it had character, but I had the feeling I was about to feel inadequate. We went up two flights to the top of the house, where Jen had the whole floor. Walls had been torn down to create an enormous suite with oval windows all around. The ceiling slanted on three sides, and she had a full-size bed with a couple of futons placed on the other side of a rice paper and bamboo screen to create a small TV room. She also had a mini-fridge and an electric kettle. Add in the big en suite bathroom, and I saw no reason why she’d ever need to leave.

Apparently Davina shared my minor awe. “You could live up here.”

“I do, pretty much.”

“Your mother seems cool, though.” I understood why some teenagers wanted privacy from their parents, but Ms. Bishop didn’t strike me as a helicopter mom.

“She’s fine. But my parents have a lot of parties. My dad is an entertainment lawyer and it’s ‘part of his job to schmooze.’” Jen sounded like she was quoting him. “So I’m glad I have my own floor, otherwise they’d drive me nuts with the constant noise.”

“Any celebrities?” Davina wanted to know.

“Depends on what you mean by that. D-list, sometimes, people who were in soap operas ten years ago and are trying to get endorsement deals in Japan or Thailand.”

“Not too exciting,” I said.

Jen grinned. “Trust me, I’d be downstairs if any real stars were in my living room.”

“So what’re we watching tonight?” Davina asked.

“I found an Anna Faris movie for the rom-com and a terrible SF about a time-traveling T. rex for the sci-fi portion of the evening.”

Davina cocked her head, seeming thoughtful. “The one where she’s freaking out over how many guys she’s slept with?”

“Yep.”

I had no idea about romantic comedies, unless they had been made before 1960, but I couldn’t stop grinning at Jen’s SF choice. There was no way I could’ve done better myself. “Sounds perfect.”

“First, maybe we should talk about what happened with Brit.” Davina perched on the edge of the blue futon. “I’m still kind of freaked out.”

“It’s hard not to be,” Jen admitted.

“I’ve been having dreams.” Davina stared at the floor. “I haven’t told my mom or she’d have me in counseling so fast it’d make my head spin.”

Jen smirked. “I thought everyone at Blackbriar had a therapist and a personal trainer.”

It was meant as a joke, but I felt pretty sure Davina and I were in a different tax bracket. She mumbled, “I’m on scholarship.”

“Wow, really?” I was impressed.

Davina nodded. “I have been since the beginning. I’m pretty sure that’s what Allison has against me. Her parents are nouveau riche, so she’s kind of sensitive about it, like being polite will infect her with poverty.”

“Did you seriously just say ‘nouveau riche’?” Jen asked.

“You know it’s true. People who just got their money always act the worst about it. They want so bad to be accepted by the blue bloods, to hang out with the right crowd—”

“Allison is kind of bitchy to everyone, though.” These were all nuances completely undetectable to an outsider, namely me.

Jen said, “She got boobs early and everyone except Brit froze her out. So now she shoots first. Constantly. She’s always at DEFCON three, looking for a fight.”

“So a preemptive strike, so to speak.” I’d never thought about it before; the Teflon crew seemed to have actual reasons for their behavior. Honestly, that never occurred to me. I’d figured they didn’t need any motivation to be mean—that like summer and winter, they acted as nature dictated.

“Basically. Allison used to be best friends with Nicole Johnson, but then she developed and guys started paying attention to her. It pissed Nic off, and they stopped hanging out a few years back.”

“Allison is a bitchzilla these days, no lie, but it sucks that Nicole ditched her over something that wasn’t her fault. It’s not like we can control when we get boobs.” Davina glanced down at her own chest. “Or if, in my case.”

“Whatever,” Jen said. “I bet your mom is never on your case about gaining two pounds. Whereas if I even look at carbs, I get a lecture.”

Wow, and I thought my parents were a pain in the ass. At least my mom never bitched at me about getting fat.

“What’s that look about?” Davina asked.

I didn’t want to tell the truth. “My parents teach physics at BU, so—”

“That explains a lot,” Jen said.

I guessed she meant that it accounted for my complete lack of physical awareness last year. And she would be right. Most girls had a mom who talked to them about hair and makeup at some point, if only in passing. Mine was completely devoid of typical feminine interests; it balanced since she was a brilliant scientist on the verge of an earth-shaking breakthrough. People always thought their discoveries or inventions would change the world. I had a suspicion my mother was on track to do it.

“Yeah, well. Better late than never, right?”

Jen seemed to read my discomfort with the topic. She glanced over at Davina.

“You guys want a drink?”

“Some water would be great,” the other girl answered.

“Still, sparkling, or mineral?” She apparently had all three in her mini-fridge. Talk about hospitality.

“Sparkling,” Davina decided aloud.

“Same,” I said.

Jen got out three bottles of sparkling water, then she turned on the TV, but none of us were in the mood to watch; it was more background noise than anything. I might be wrong but I didn’t think Jen had ever hung out with Davina like this before either. We were united in that we’d seen something horrible together, and while it didn’t precisely make us friends, it did offer a bonding moment that nobody else shared. I might not know these girls very well, but they understood what those moments had felt like.

“So…,” Davina said. “Brit…”

Dropping her gaze, Jen drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I can’t get her face out of my head. When I try to get to sleep, I see it over and over.”

“For me, it’s the blood,” Davina whispered.

There were so many things I couldn’t share, not the least of which was my suspicions that it hadn’t been a natural death. “It happened so fast. One week, she has a terrible rash and then…”

“That’s terrifying too,” Davina said. “I’m kind of scared to try any new brands of makeup now.”

“Her parents are suing the cosmetic company,” Jen put in.

Yeah, that’ll help.
I clenched a fist, trying not to reveal the chaos in my head. Guilt warred with sadness while regret danced around in circles.
But you don’t know for sure it was your fault. Or Kian’s. But if it was Wedderburn … God, it’s all so tangled.

“Maybe we should just … not think about it for a while,” I suggested for my own sanity. “If that’s possible. It might help if we had a better memory together to replace it with.” God, I hoped that didn’t sound as dumb as I suspected. It reeked of Hallmark greeting cards and I expected them both to throw something at me.

Instead both girls were nodding. “That makes sense,” Jen said.

Davina got out a magazine and we paged through it, looking at clothes and deciding what items were fug and which were overpriced. That carried us for an hour, and by that point, I felt pretty comfortable. The housekeeper came upstairs then with a tray of finger foods: white cheese, various cut fruits, carrots, celery, and jicama, along with some cold cuts and whole wheat crackers.

“Dear God.” Jen sighed. “Any other girl has a sleepover and she gets to have chips and cookies and popcorn. Not me. Sorry about this, guys.”

“I don’t mind. It looks good, actually.” I wasn’t just being nice. It was much fancier than anything I got at home, especially arrayed on the teak serving tray.

Davina grinned. “I love the radish roses.”

“Nobody likes radish roses,” Jen said. “Radishes are disgusting.”

“I didn’t say they were delicious. But they
are
adorable.”

We ate, and I listened while they talked about people from school. Apparently Nicole Johnson tried to make a move on Mr. Love, and got shot down.
That won’t end well,
I thought.

“Are you serious?” Davina asked. “I mean, he’s fine and all, but he’s at least twenty-five. Something is seriously wrong with him, if he wants to date a high school girl.”

I offered, “Date might be the wrong word.”

“You mean like a professional cherry-popper? We had one in my old school, kept a score card and everything. Asshole.” Davina made a face.

Around six, Jen put in the romantic comedy, which was much funnier and more entertaining than I expected. Note to self: Don’t judge modern movies prematurely. As the movie ended, my phone buzzed with a text.

“Is that your man?” Davina asked.

I checked. “Yep.”

“Oooh, what’d he say? Is he sexting you?” At home, Jen was much more chill than she seemed at school. She unwound enough to try to steal my phone.

I held it away from her and read out loud, “‘Is it too needy to check in and see how you’re doing? If so, this is a mis-text. If not…’”

“Funny and hot,” Davina said.

I smiled as I typed back,
It’s not. And I’m good. Thanks.

He replied immediately.
See you tomorrow night?

Yeah. What time?

Pick you up at seven.

When I put away my phone, both of them were smirking at me.

“What?” I demanded.

“You should see your face.” But Davina’s expression softened like she thought whatever she’d seen me reveal about Kian was a good thing.

“We are
not
talking about her man all night,” Jen cut in.

And I was grateful. “Cool. Let’s watch the time-traveling T. rex instead.”

That was bad SF at its best. I laughed until my stomach hurt, and so did the other two. I shouldn’t have been startled to find that they weren’t so different from me, but I’d started thinking of the people at school as a separate species, so it was tough to shift my thinking. Halfway through the movie, Jen broke out her secret stash and added vodka to our OJ.

Things got blurry after that. They told stories about Brittany, and I cried along with Davina and Jen; I regretted so much that I never got to know the girl who would strip down to her undies and steal a rose on a dare or drive twenty miles to buy a case of beer because she’d promised to make Davina’s first party the best one ever. Jen told me how when Cameron was sick—and there was nobody at his house—Brit went over and made chicken soup and then cleaned up the vomit when he couldn’t keep it down. How could such a nice girl do what she did to me?

And how could I do that to her?
If
I did.

People can be monsters too.

It was half past midnight when Davina drunkenly suggested we try the Bloody Mary mirror thing. For a few seconds, I froze, and the giddiness dissipated almost instantly. Jen was already heading for the bathroom with some candles.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.

In my head, I heard Kian say,
Sometimes you call things. And then they don’t leave.
I remembered the girl in
my
bathroom mirror, and I wondered how to stop this. Circumstances might’ve thrown me together with Jen and Davina, but I liked them. As of yet, I didn’t trust them as I did Vi, but it would come, in time, if they didn’t turn on me or stab me in the back.