Poor Little Dead Girls (11 page)

She tossed the book to the side and leaned back, feeling the cool grass between her fingers.

“Hey, so can you tell me what the deal is with Anna? How come nobody likes to talk about her?”

Sadie had expected Jessica to get angry again, but she just sighed.

Jessica closed the book in her lap and took a deep breath. “Okay, you just have to understand that it’s still hard for people to talk about it. One day she was here, and the next it was just … nothing. Most of the girls still haven’t really made sense of it.”

“Made sense of what? Did she quit the team or something? Transfer?”

Jessica looked up from her lap and met Sadie’s gaze. “Sadie, Anna didn’t leave. She’s dead.”

Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She looked down at her hands and swallowed. “I’m really sorry, Jess. I honestly had no idea.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh god. And I was in the locker room blabbering on about her in front of everyone.” She covered her face with both hands. “I’m such an idiot.”

“It’s okay. You just didn’t know.” Jessica looked back down to the grass and picked a little white flower. She twirled the stem between her finger and thumb, then started pulling the petals off in bunches. “I just don’t know why no one told you.” She looked up again. “You never saw it on the news last year? It was a pretty big deal until they found her.”

Sadie shook her head. “I guess I just missed it.”

Jessica’s eyes strayed across the quad, and Sadie watched as they landed on the bench she had noticed the first day. The bouquet of calla lilies was gone, but there was a bunch of white roses in its place.

Sadie frowned. “Hey, what do you mean before they found her?”

Jessica looked at the naked stem in her hand and tossed it back onto the grass. “At first, she just disappeared. It was March, so lacrosse season was about to start, and we were together all the time. We spent every afternoon at practice and most nights watching film or going over our plays. We ate every meal as a team. Then one night she went to bed, and when her roommate woke up Anna was gone. We thought maybe she had gone out for an early run or something, but then she didn’t show up for breakfast, or class, or practice, or anything. We called her cell phone over and over again, but it always just rang and rang.”

“Wow,” Sadie murmured. Jessica was looking straight ahead, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

“They searched for weeks. First on campus, then at Graff. They spent two weeks just walking through the woods with a huge group of volunteers. Coach canceled practice so we could help. It was the worst feeling ever. Like, you were looking and you wanted to find something, but at the same time, you knew if you did it would mean the worst news in the world. They brought in dogs to search the woods, and then even the Coast Guard to check the water. Her parents hired people to investigate, but no one could find anything. It was like she just vanished.”

She stopped, and her eyes were shiny with tears.

“They never found her?”

Jessica rubbed a hand over her eyes, smearing her mascara. “They looked and looked, and they never found anything. Not even a fucking shoe or her wallet or anything. They started thinking maybe she ran away, or was kidnapped or something. Then the cops started showing up less often, then not at all, and eventually it stopped being in the news every day. Then one day it was just … over. Some deep-sea fisherman found her body way offshore.”

“Oh, god,” Sadie whispered.

Jessica looked up, and they locked eyes. “They couldn’t even tell what happened. Her body had been in the water too long.” She shook her head and looked back out over the quad. She nodded toward the bench. “That was her favorite spot on campus. She liked to read there, even in the winter.”

“Jess, I’m so sorry. I should never have brought it up.”

Jessica sniffed and straightened up. She wiped her tears away with one hand and smoothed her ponytail with the other. She looked at Sadie and smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I try not to think about it too much anymore, but whenever I do it’s still really hard.”

She took a deep breath. “Anna was really fun — you would have liked her. You guys even kinda look alike. She was tall, too.” Her eyes welled up again, and she stopped.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” Sadie said softly.

Jessica sniffed. “You know, since I’m already crying I might as well say this.” She managed a weak laugh. “I’m really, really glad you’re here, Sadie. Seriously. I like the other girls, but it’s hard being around people you can’t really relate to, you know?”

Sadie nodded.

“My family’s rich, I guess, or at least most people would think we are, but I’m not like these girls. I don’t go to the Hamptons every summer or get tickets to movie premieres or go to balls at the White House. It’s easy to get lost in all that.”

She looked up and met Sadie’s eyes. “But you’re different.” She smiled. “You’re more like me.”

Sadie threw her arms around Jessica in a big hug. “You’re practically the reason I decided to come here last spring.”

“Really?” Jessica wiped her nose with the back of one hand. “You didn’t think I was like, totally obnoxious, and that I talk too much and make too many awkward jokes?”

Sadie smacked her on the shoulder. “Please. I was just relieved you weren’t a rich robot who thought I didn’t deserve to be here.”

Jessica’s smile faded. “Well, you do.” Her eyes followed a group of three sophomores as they walked across the quad. The sunlight glinted off their pale blonde hair — all three the exact same shade — and their shadows stretched tall across the grass.

“It’s so strange when you start school here. You watch all of the girls walking around with their perfect designer outfits and haircuts, and they’re all beautiful and smart and well dressed and well-spoken. And then it’s parents’ week, and all the families show up, and they don’t even look real. All the dads wear expensive suits, and the moms are young and beautiful. It’s like you’re living in a movie, where everything is flawless and everyone wears tasteful pearls and it’s all just perfectly as it should be.”

She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “But then you start to see the cracks. You see the faces behind the facades, and they’re ugly and sad and empty. The dads all cheat or get caught banging prostitutes or divorce their kids’ stepmom for someone who just graduated from Yale, and the moms are all workaholics who take pills just to get through their eighteen-hour days, or they don’t work at all and they’re depressed or crazy or obsessed with their charity work because it makes them feel like they’re more than just some rich guy’s wife. You know Madison, my roommate? She pulls out her hair because she’s so stressed all the time. She has to wear extensions because she’s going bald, and her parents still give her shit if she doesn’t get straight As.”

She looked up at Sadie. “You’re smart and pretty and fucking great at lacrosse, and you earned every dollar of that scholarship. Trust me, the more you get to know these people, the more you realize they’re really not untouchable at all. They’re just as screwed up as the rest of us — they just have better costumes to wear.”

It was almost 7:30 by the time Sadie forced herself out of bed. She had lain awake for over an hour already, her heart pounding and her stomach rolling with angry butterflies. It was Monday, the day of the test, and Sadie felt even less prepared than she had last week. Ever since Friday night, she had been waking up terrified in the middle of the night, sure there was someone in her room. Her dreams were stressful and restless, and every morning, the second before she opened her eyes, she saw a faceless blonde in a black hood.

She showered and dressed quickly, then flipped open her laptop to check her e-mail. The only message she had was from Thayer letting them know practice had been pushed back half an hour. She groaned in frustration. All that meant was an extra half hour of torture before she was put out of her misery.

She spent the morning trying to concentrate on calculus and physics, but all she could think about was practice. Her stomach felt empty and tense, squeezing tighter and smaller as the day went on. When the last period was finally over, she took the steps up to her room two at a time. As she changed, she tried to pump herself up by blasting some music and visualizing herself passing the test. It didn’t work.

She took her time getting there, trying to enjoy the sun and the wind on her face. She told herself it was just another workout; she had done this a million times. But she couldn’t keep the nerves out — not for the best high school lacrosse team in the country.

She walked onto the field at around 3:30, with plenty of time before practice was supposed to start. But something was wrong. The team was already on the field, and Coach Fitz was standing on the sidelines with a stopwatch around her neck. Her two assistants stood next to her and busily scribbled on their clipboards. The Graff team was sitting in the bleachers, waiting their turn, and behind them was a little cluster of men in suits, watching the practice from far up in the stands.

Her stomach turned to water as the realization hit her. Thayer hadn’t e-mailed the whole team. It was an act of sabotage, and Sadie was the only target.

She immediately broke into a sweat, and her heart felt like it was beating directly behind her eardrums. On the field, Jessica was motioning to her frantically, waving her arms and pointing at her nonexistent watch. Sadie dropped her bag at a run and joined the others, so nervous she felt faint.

What felt like seconds later, Coach blew the whistle and signaled for the girls to line up. They took their usual positions on the 25-yard line.

“Welcome, ladies,” Coach yelled. “Today is the conditioning test. Most of you will pass, but some of you will not. I see some of you didn’t deem it necessary to take full advantage of warm-ups today, and that has been noted.” She looked Sadie in the eye, but Sadie stared back, her chin high. “Those of you who don’t pass will retake the test every Saturday morning until you pass or give up. Until then, you will not be allowed to practice. This year’s test will be harder than last year’s, so I hope you’re all prepared.”

Sadie heard a few of the girls groan.

“This year’s test will contain two parts: a speed test and a long-distance endurance test. The speed portion will be a series of six three-hundred-yard shuttles completed in twenty-five-yard increments. To pass you must complete each shuttle — that’s twelve lengths — in less than seventy-two seconds. The endurance test will be a two-mile run on the track that must be completed in under fourteen minutes.

“As is our tradition at Keating, you will run the test in order of increasing seniority. This means Marlowe, Harris, Brownley, Reid, Thomas, and Helms, you six are up first on the sprint.”

Sadie followed the five other girls as they trudged toward the other end of the field, where the assistant coaches had set up two lines of bright orange cones 25 yards apart. The field felt a mile wide, and with each step her heart pounded faster, until her whole ribcage seemed to vibrate. As she placed her toe on the starting line, everything seemed to slow. The sounds around her fell away, and she saw nothing but the cone in the distance. She took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expanding and swelling against her chest, and then the whistle blew.

She passed.

All the girls who had been on the team last year did, except for Jenna, a senior and the team’s backup goalkeeper. When it was all over, the Graff team took the field and Sadie followed the rest of the team as they staggered back to the locker room. Jenna was crying uncontrollably as they walked, but nobody had the energy to console her.

When she got to the showers, she stepped into the closest stall and closed the curtain behind her. She turned the shower on full blast, twisting the dial all the way to the right so the water ran ice cold. She stepped under the spray and let it wash over her face. She stayed there for a long time, until her teeth started to chatter.

Most of the girls were already gone, but Jessica and Brett were still waiting by their lockers. She dressed quickly, and they made their way back out to the field. The Graff team had started their test, and she scanned the players until she saw Jeremy’s shaggy blonde head a few inches above the rest. He was in the middle of a 300-yard shuttle, and she felt her cheeks flush as she flashed back to Friday night. She looked away, putting the image out of her mind.

As they passed the bleachers, Coach Fitz waved at them to stop.

“Marlowe, can you come up here for a minute?”

Sadie looked at Brett and Jessica, who both shrugged.

“You passed,” Jessica said. “What’s the worst she can do?”

Sadie sighed. “See you back at the dorms, then?” They nodded and waved. She watched their backs as they made their way down the sideline, then turned into the aisle.

“Have a seat, Sadie,” Coach said, her face expressionless behind her dark sunglasses. Sadie sat down and swallowed, trying not to think about the answer to Jessica’s question.

“So, how have you been settling in?”

“Everything’s been good so far,” Sadie said slowly, anxious to see where this was going. “I’m still adjusting, but classes have been going okay.” When the coach didn’t respond she added, “The girls all seem really great, too.” That part was a lie.