Suicide Notes From Beautiful Girls (20 page)

Chapter 43

June

It’s three hours later, three
hours since I got back to the house, sick and scared of everything. And now we’re at a fancy shopping mall two hours away, playing dress-up. It’s so insane and so surreal, but somehow this weirdness is calming me down. It’s like any other day, except suddenly there’s this bag of cash and I don’t know where it came from, and we had to drive for hours so that Delia won’t be recognized. Since she isn’t supposed to exist anymore.

Delia nods at Ashling’s reflection in the mirror. “Get it,” she says simply. “It would be criminal not to.”

Ashling is trying on a dark brown leather jacket, snug fitting to the waist, made of smooth leather with brass zippers on the sides and at the chest. She looks stunning in it. She faces the mirror and then turns halfway around. I look at the price
tag. It costs half as much as my car, and I saved up for over a year to buy that.

“I’ll get it, then,” Ashling says. “Definitely don’t want to be
criminal.
” She sticks out her tongue. She’s trying to be playful, but something about it feels forced. All of this feels forced, I think.

There are five bags at Delia’s feet already. Jeans, shirts, dresses, shoes, boots, bras, everything. Enough stuff for a brand-new life. Delia paid in cash for all of it, slapping stacks of bills down on the counter, smiling too widely, too brightly. I know this Delia, the charming one, making friends with everyone, talking fast. I missed this girl, but I’m also scared of her. She can do anything. She has. She does.

The dressing room is covered in piles of clothes; Delia brought them in by the armful. I’m sitting on a bench, near the mirror. Delia reaches out and grabs a cream-colored wrap dress made of lacy sweater material. She tosses it at me.

“Try that on,” Delia says.

“That’s okay” I say. I shake my head.

“For fun,” says Delia. And she has that look on her face—a wheedling smile, a come-on-out-to-play smile. I know I have no choice.

I slide my own sweater and shirt over my head, suddenly self-conscious to be half dressed in front of them, though I don’t know why. Putting on the dress is like putting on a bathrobe. The fabric feels so soft against my skin. But the belt is
confusing and I can’t figure out how to tie it. Delia is watching me, still smiling. She comes over and takes the belt and fits it through a tiny hole in the side of the dress. She pulls the two ends around me and ties it at the back, tight. Ashling is staring. I feel myself blush.

“You look like a milkmaid,” says Delia. “The kind that might make a guy like Ryan consider stopping boning cows.”

I feel a tightening in my stomach. I try to force a laugh. I don’t want to think about any of that right now. So I focus on this dress.

“Doesn’t she?” Delia says to Ashling.

Ashling nods vaguely.

“Yup,” Delia says. “You’re getting it.”

I shake my head. “I was trying it on for fun. I don’t need it. This isn’t my money. It’s yours.”

“It’s no one’s,” Delia says. “But we happen to have it, and we share. And you’re with us. At least look in the mirror.”

I slowly turn to see the girl in the creamy white dress, whose skin looks pink and fresh, whose curves look soft and warm.

“It’s yours,” Delia says. “Don’t fight me. You know I’ll win.”

I shake my head. “I look like someone else,” I say, finally.

“So be someone else for a while.” Delia’s lips spread into a slow grin. “Who knows, you might like it.”

The house is beautiful at night, lit from within, orange and gold against a dark sky. We take Delia’s many bags out of the trunk, and
Ashling’s jacket, and the dress, which I guess is my dress now.

We walk into the house.

“Honeys, we’re home,” Delia calls out.

“Hello, dears,” Evan calls back from the kitchen. Music is playing, trumpets and piano over beats. The lights are down low. The kitchen island is covered in platters of food. The air smells sweet and warm, like butter and garlic and other things I cannot name. I am filled with a wave of happiness, how lucky I am to be here. And then a squeezing in my chest, because I do not ever want this to end.

But it will. Soon, even. They will leave. This will be over.

And I will be alone again.

And this thought is followed by all of the other things I’m trying not to think about—Jeremiah and what he said, what he might do. Ryan and what they did to him.

But I’m here now.
I remind myself I have to focus on that. I have to at least try.

Dinnertime.

The table is set—thick white plates on the gnarled wood, chunky glasses made of wavy bubbled glass. There are three thin candles, flickering in the center. I’m wearing the new dress, because Delia made me. No shoes, no tights, because I don’t have those things. It’s cold outside, but warm and cozy in here.

And when I walk into the kitchen in that yellow light, wearing my cream-colored dress and bare feet and no tights,
and Sebastian looks at me, eyes sliding up and down before settling on my face, I feel fluttering in my belly and energy shooting up my spine.

I know Delia has arranged this, all of this, for me.

“You look pretty,” Sebastian says. And I feel myself blushing, embarrassed at how happy these three words make me. And then I try to find something to keep myself busy, because everyone is being useful around me and suddenly I do not know what to do with my hands.

Evan and Delia carry the food out to the table—roasted orange carrots, potatoes crispy and brown around the edges. A creamy soup, colored with saffron. Grilled salmon, flecked with dill. Ashling fills our glasses with wine.

Sebastian takes something out of the oven—a pie oozing with fruit—and sets it out to cool.

They’re moving together like a machine, like a single being, and there isn’t anything for me to do, so I straighten the shiny hammered silverware until it’s time to sit down.

“This looks awesome, bud,” Evan says.

“Yeah, thank you,” Ashling says.

And I realize that Sebastian has made all of it. I look at him, at his serious face. He shrugs, but I think I see a flicker of a smile.

We are all around the table now. Delia raises a glass. “To family,” she says. She looks me straight in the eye.

I stab my fork into a potato. I take a bite—the edges are crusty and the inside is perfectly fluffy. It is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. And so is the bite of salmon I take next, and the other dishes after that.

I am ravenous. My stomach growls. I don’t want to drop anything on this dress.

I take a sip of the wine just to slow myself down. But I’m surprised to find that I like it. It tastes rich and round as it swirls over my tongue. I look up, and Sebastian is watching me.

And so I take another sip, and then another one. I feel my face flushing red and I am starting to smile. The rest of them are smiling too. We are all smiling. We are all happy and here together. The world outside of here, the things I do not want to think about, they’re all so far away.

“So,” Evan says slowly, “that stuff we’ve been expecting . . .” Something about his tone makes me feel like he’s been waiting to say this, waiting for the right time. “It’s almost ready. Will be here by Friday at the latest.”

Ashling smiles and Delia glances quickly at me, then nods.

I take another sip of wine. The more I have, the better it tastes. “What stuff?” I say.

“Some stuff we’ve been waiting for,” says Ashling. She shrugs. “For Delia.”

Sebastian is watching Ashling. He doesn’t look happy.

“We can finish off now,” says Evan. “Because then it will be time to go.”

I feel a jolt of panic. “What’s next?” I say. I try to smile, to make my voice sound light.

And I want to ask more questions, the ones I haven’t allowed myself, that have been on the tip of my tongue since I first came to this house. They’re being loosened by the wine; they’re going to start making their way out of my mouth soon. But I keep my lips clamped shut. This moment is too perfect. I don’t want to ruin it. It will all be over too fast, then they will go wherever they’re going. And more than anything, I want to hold on to this to fill my heart up with it so that when they’re gone, and I’m alone, floating off in space with no one, I’ll at least have this night to keep me tethered to earth.

“So, who wants more salmon?” Sebastian says. He’s trying to change the subject. He doesn’t want me to ask more, to know more.

Delia looks me in the eye. She winks.

Later. We’re outside in the backyard and I know it’s cold, because my breath is fogging up the air around us, but I can’t feel it. I am warm, cozy, the very opposite of lonely. This is the very best feeling in the world. I think maybe I’m drunk.

Evan is rubbing his hands together while Sebastian lights a fire in the fire pit. Ashling passes the bottle of wine to Evan, who swigs and passes to Delia, who swigs and passes to me.

“I can’t believe this bottle has lasted all night,” I say.

And Ashling gives me a funny look and lets out a little
cough of a laugh. “June, that’s, like, the fifth one we’re on now.”

“Hmmm,” I say. “I guess that explains it.” Then I smile and half laugh without meaning to. I take a gulp. It tastes like the inside of my mouth. I look at the others, lips stained purple. Sebastian’s purple lips are perfect.

He is standing over the iron fire pit, twisting newspaper and adding sticks. He flicks a match, tosses it in. There’s a crackle and a whoosh as the flames flare up.

I wonder if this is what Delia’s fire looked like. I wonder if Sebastian was the one who lit it.

There are chairs around the fire, big ones made of logs. It seems weird to have wood chairs around such a big fire—it would be so easy for them to burn, I think. So many things are so flammable! It’s amazing everything is not on fire all the time, considering how it spreads.

We all sit down, lean back, and soak in the heat. Delia isn’t scared. We’re sitting around a fire, a big one, and she’s leaning up close to it.

I feel like I’m floating. I look up at the stars. I imagine I’m soaring up, up, up, and through space. I look back down at the people in front of me, warm on this cold night. Out here in the dark I feel like I could say anything. All those questions I’ve had stuck inside, I can open my mouth and let them out and it will be okay. So I do.