Shadow Hills (22 page)

“Probably.” Adriana sighed. “I doubt anything better will be going on.”

“Awesome.” Brody rubbed his hands together excitedly. The lukewarm tone of Adriana’s acceptance was obviously lost on him. “What about you, Zach? You down?”

Zach looked over at me. “Yeah, I think so,” he finally answered. “Are you going, Phe?”

The way he said my name made me feel warm inside, and I couldn’t keep from looking up at him. Gazing into his eyes, I was almost certain that he knew about my dream. But the heat creeping through me now had little to do with embarrassment.

“Sure,” I agreed. “It sounds like fun.”

Unfortunately for me, game night proved to be more tragic than fun. Early Wednesday evening, I was at the SAC and feeling more than a little regretful about my decision to attend. There had been a large turnout since those who had opted to do it didn’t have to participate in the—usually mandatory—two-hour dorm study.

Almost a hundred students had shown up, which made it necessary that we be broken into groups. Randomly. Everyone had given their student IDs to Mr. Carr, and he’d put them in ten different piles. Which was how I came to be on the same team as
Corinne, and playing
against
Zach. At Pictionary. A game I was truly dreadful at.

Corinne had suggested that I be the first person to draw for our team, and while I’d protested extensively, she had sweetly insisted. Now here I was: standing in front of a blank whiteboard and staring at a Pictionary card, trying to figure out how in the hell I could possibly draw “self-service” without resorting to some kind of highly inappropriate representation. I was fairly certain that would be frowned upon at a school-sponsored game night.

“At least draw something!” Corinne watched time diminish from our hourglass. It appeared she hadn’t fully thought through the consequences of humiliating me.

I sketched a misshapen gas pump.

“Hair dryer!” The pink-clad Bouncy Blonde Barista from the SAC had also ended up on my team. And as luck would have it, she was excited not only by Trent—Pictionary seemed to do it for her, too. She’d even shouted out answers when the other team was drawing. Thankfully, none of her answers were right; if they had been, I was pretty sure Corinne would have made the rest of the game a living hell for her.

“Gas pump!” one of my teammates yelled. I did the “go on” gesture with my hand.

“Gas prices!” Corinne called. I drew a stick figure next to the pump.

“Gas station attendant!”

On top of the stick figure I drew the circle with a diagonal line across it that stood for no.

“Bad gas attendant!” Bouncy Blonde exclaimed.

“What are you—mentally deficient?” Corinne snapped at the girl. “Do you actually think they would print that on a card?”

“Time!” a guy on the other team called as the last grain of sand drained into the bottom of the hourglass.

“It was ‘self-service,’” I said, putting down the dry-erase marker.

“Good job, L.A.,” Corinne clapped slowly as I sat back down. “I guess the stereotypes about dumb blondes really do apply.”

“Shut up, Corinne.” Zach’s tone was uncharacteristically harsh.

“Hey! We are
not
all dumb!” Bouncy Blonde piped up.

“Oh, come on!” Corinne threw her hands up in exasperation. “Like anything you’ve ever said has even bordered on intelligent. How you got into this school is a mystery to me.” She eyed the girl’s outfit with disdain. “And I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you look like you’re wearing cotton candy.”

“Pink looks good on me,” Bouncy Blonde said, her voice shaky.

“Whatever you say.” Corinne rolled her eyes.

Okay, now I felt really bad about making fun of Bouncy Blonde’s clothes with Adriana the other night. Just because I hated all the matchy-matchy pinkness didn’t mean she deserved to be ridiculed.

“George.” Zach handed the marker to the red-headed guy I’d met at the party in the woods. “You’re next.”

“Okay.” George crouched down to draw a card. “Wow.” He looked over at me. “It’s not as bad as ‘self-service.’ But this
edition is definitely not for beginners.” George stood and walked over to the board.

I glanced at Corinne, who’d picked up the timer and flipped it before he’d finished studying his card.

George started sketching something resembling a koala bear.

“Anteater!” a guy I didn’t know yelled.

“Groundhog!” a girl with tightly curled red hair called out.

George shook his head and moved on to a new part of the board, where he drew a stick figure with a huge round belly.

“Pregnant!” The red-headed girl’s foot was jiggling excitedly.

George gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“No gesturing!” Corinne practically screamed.

I hadn’t heard her objecting when I was gesturing to our team. Corinne was the absolute worst kind of person to play a game with: competitive and controlling, with a hair-trigger temper.

“Baby animal? Calf?” Zach offered.

George drew a circle in the belly with a fetus inside.

“Womb!” the red-headed girl cried.

George drew a bat next to it. Their time was almost up.

“Wombat!” a girl yelled excitedly.

Oh, shit
. It was Bouncy Blonde.

“Yes!” George cried. “We get to roll again!”

“Screw that!” Corinne yelled. “She isn’t even on your team!”

“Doesn’t matter,” George countered. “She guessed correctly.”

“What is wrong with you, you moronic, wannabe Barbie doll?!” Corinne turned on the blonde. “You can guess ‘wombat,’ but you can’t think of something simple like ‘self-service’?”

“It’s not like you thought of it, Corinne,” I pointed out.

“You really should mind your own business,” she warned me. “For once it’s not you I have a problem with.”

“Give it a rest, Corinne,” Zach said.

“If this mentally deficient spaz hadn’t opened her mouth, we wouldn’t be losing right now!” Apparently Corinne felt this twisted logic exempted her from having to show the smallest amount of compassion.

Tears of embarrassment rolled down Bouncy Blonde’s cheeks, and she jumped up and ran to the bathroom.

“Kerry! Hold on a second!” The red-headed girl from Zach’s team hopped up and hurried after her.

I stood up as well. Finally, I had the vertical advantage on Corinne.

“I don’t know what your problem is—if this is some kind of tough-girl act to try to scare people into respecting you, or if you really are this big of a bitch”—my tone was venomous—“but right now I don’t care.” Corinne made a noise as if she was going to protest, but I barreled on. “Because I would rather be at dorm study than remain on a team with someone as nasty and spiteful as you.”

I picked up my purse and turned to go.

“Phe, wait.” Zach stood up. I paused, looking at him. “You don’t have to go back to the dorms. I’m sure we can find something else to do.”

“Okay.” I smiled.

“You can’t leave, Zach,” Corinne said through gritted teeth.

He walked right past her. “Watch me.”

“I’m sorry about my sister.” Zach sat across from me at one of the two-person tables on the small deck outside the SAC—the same place where Trent had done his little fireworks show. We were allegedly playing twenty-one. Mostly we were fidgeting with the cards and talking.

“I don’t know what the deal is,” he went on. “Recently she’s been worse than usual. Maybe her mountain of AP classes are getting to her.”

“Don’t people mostly take electives their last year?”

“Yeah. But Corinne’s not most people. She’s got a full college-level course load and is the head of every committee here.” Zach let out a gruff laugh. “Well, except for the ones that are elected by classmates.”

“It’s amazing she isn’t more popular,” I snarked.

“Well, there are several girls who follow her around, hoping her power in the school will rub off on them. But I doubt they’ve ever had a normal conversation with her; Corinne can’t seem to talk without debating or lecturing. But at least she does have a few people who want to be around her, even if they are more lackeys than friends.”

“I’m sure the fact that her brother is hot helps her out a little in that department.” The statement popped out of my mouth, unbidden.

“Yeah. Because senior girls are just dying to date juniors.”

I decided not to point out that Zach was no ordinary junior.

“Only one of Corinne’s friends could be accused of flirting, and I’m pretty sure it’s solely because she’s in theater and she wants me to do publicity photos for her,” he continued.

“The photographs you take in class
are
amazing.”

“I don’t know if you can really say that since we haven’t developed the photos yet. And your judgment could be clouded by the fact that you’re my subject. Maybe you just like looking at yourself.” Zach grinned, and I pretended to glare at him. “I mean, it would be hard to take a bad picture of you.”

I felt the blush creep all the way up to my hairline.

“Time for a change of subject?” Zach raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded gratefully. “So what about your family? Do you have any heinously awful siblings?”

Usually I would have said no. Technically, it was the truth, I had become an only child the night my sister died. But it felt different now. I wanted to say something about Athena. I wanted to tell Zach.

“My older sister was definitely my parents’ favorite, though they would never admit it.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “Athena was the best. She made perfect grades without ever studying, partied with celebrities’ kids, knew about every clothing and music trend before MTV had caught on to them.”

I thought of her empty bedroom, her abandoned record
collection I couldn’t bring myself to listen to. Zach must have seen the tears welling up in my eyes because he placed his hand over mine. It was warm, and it made my nerves tingle.

“What’s wrong?” Zach asked.

“Athena died about a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Zach sat back, pulling his hand away from mine. Instantly, I missed it. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. You don’t need to tell me what happened.”

“No,” I stated. “I want to. I never talk about her, and I hardly allow myself to think about her.” I dug my nails into my palm, trying not to cry. “I’m afraid if I continue like this, I’m going to forget her completely.”

“Okay,” Zach said cautiously. “If you want to.”

“I do.” I smiled to show him I wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown or anything. “About two years ago Athena started dating this asshole named Jason. I never liked him,” I added, as if this wasn’t already obvious. “She stopped hanging out with everyone except for Jason and his friends. I didn’t know any of them. They went to his old school.”

I paused. I didn’t want to expose all of Athena’s secrets, or mine for that matter. I decided to keep quiet about the dreams and how moody they had made her. At the time I even thought maybe she was doing coke, but she denied it. Still, I didn’t completely believe her, until I found her diary and realized the nightmares she’d been having were mostly to blame.

“After Athena and Jason had been together for six months, she caught him cheating on her,” I went on.

Zach stared at me intently, listening but not interrupting.

“She broke up with him, but he kept begging her to forgive him, and in the end she did. I argued with her for weeks, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” I shook my head.

“Not long after they got back together, there was this big party out on some girl’s yacht, and Athena wanted to keep an eye on Jason. Which is obviously the sign of a great relationship.”

I looked down at the table. Zach took my hand again, and after a second I was able to go on.

“Athena asked me to go with her. She’d dropped all her friends, and she wanted someone to talk to at the party.” I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to cry. “I told her that if she didn’t like not having friends, she should dump Jason and get her real life back.”

My eyes stung with unshed tears.

“No one was there with her, and it was hours before they realized she was missing. That she had fallen overboard.” A hot tear rolled down my cheek. “If I had just gone with her, I might have been able to get to her in time. I was always a stronger swimmer than Athena.” I wiped the tear away. “It was the only thing I was better at.”

Zach came around the table and pulled me out of my chair. I pressed my face against his broad chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. He smelled comforting, like grapefruit and leather.

“It shouldn’t have been like that,” I whispered, knowing that he could still hear my voice, faint as it was. “She should have died an old lady with her friends and family gathered around her. She shouldn’t have been alone.” I started crying again, and Zach held
me even tighter. “She lived her life with people who loved her, and she died with that piece-of-shit boyfriend and a bunch of strangers.” My voice broke, and I let Zach support me as I collapsed into him, sobbing like I hadn’t since the night the cops had showed up at our house and ripped my life to shreds.

That night had changed everything. It had changed me. My face, so similar to Athena’s, was just another reminder of what my parents had lost. Like the wisp of smoke hanging in the air after a candle is snuffed out.

“I feel like I’m irreparably broken. Like there is this piece of me that’s just … missing. And I know that no matter what I do, I can’t get it back. She’s gone forever.” I wasn’t sure whom I was talking about anymore, myself or Athena.

Zach continued to hold me, stroking my hair as the heaviness lifted from my chest and my sobs slowly subsided. I felt calmer, and my breathing was becoming more regular. Zach pulled back and looked into my eyes.

“You okay?” He searched me over as if my scars were physical instead of emotional.

“I think so.” I nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Strangely, I was. The fear and hurt were no longer pushing in, threatening to suffocate me. “Yeah.” I wiped the tears from my face. “Let’s do something, okay? Something fun.”

“You ready for some twenty-one?” Zach checked his cell. “We have an hour.”