The Best Friend (14 page)

She gave him a hard shove. He toppled backward against David Metcalf, who was just leaving the den. David, a Shadyside High wrestler, playfully gripped Bill in an armlock.

They wrestled around a bit before Bill cried “uncle” and David let go. “Lookin' good,” David said to Becka, eyeing her up and down, before loping off to the refreshment table.

“Well, at least David seems to appreciate me,” Becka told Bill coyly.

“David appreciates anything,” Bill replied, grinning. “David appreciates a baloney sandwich!”

“Very funny,” Becka grumbled. She led the way to the apple cider.

Suddenly Bill grabbed her from behind, spun her around, and kissed her. Startled, Becka pulled back.

Bill grinned and pointed up at the cluster of mistletoe above their heads.

More Shadyside kids arrived. The party grew louder. Someone turned the music up.

Becka and Bill danced, although there wasn't much room to move around in the crowded living room.

Becka felt happy. “This is the best party ever!” she told Trish. Trish agreed.

Later, Becka and Bill had become separated. Where had he disappeared to? she wondered.

She was making her way to the den when she ran into Honey.

“Honey?” Becka couldn't hide her astonishment.

What is she doing here? Becka asked herself. Honey must have crashed the party. Trish would never invite Honey.

Honey gave Becka a hug, then backed up. “Look,” she instructed, grinning and gesturing to her outfit.

Becka gaped in shock.

Honey not only had Becka's hairdo. She was wearing the same silver skirt as Becka, over an identical black catsuit.

Honey's grin grew wider. “Hiya, twin!” she exclaimed gleefully”.

I
found that shop in the Old Village,” Honey said, shouting over the music. “I got the same skirt. I couldn't believe they had another one!” She beamed happily at Becka.

Becka stared back at her, unable to speak.

Why is she here? Becka asked herself, feeling her anger rise. Why is she wearing my clothes? Why is she doing this to me?

“What do you say, twin?” Honey urged. “You haven't said anything.”

I can't take it, Becka thought. I can't take it anymore.

Enough!

“Honey, go away,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Huh?” Honey's smile faded. She leaned closer to Becka until they were nearly nose to nose. “I can't hear you, Becka. It's so loud in here.”

“Go away,” Becka repeated more loudly.

“What?”

Becka heard laughter. She glanced up to see two girls she didn't know pointing in her direction. They were obviously commenting to each other about the identical outfits.

This is supposed to be a great night, Becka thought miserably. But instead, I'm being pointed at. Laughed at. All because of Honey.

Her unhappiness quickly turned to rage. Becka could feel herself losing control, but she didn't care.

“Honey, leave me alone!” she shrieked.

Some couples stopped dancing and turned to see what the fuss was about.

“Becka, please! Calm down,” Honey said.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” Becka screamed. “You're not my best friend, Honey. You're not even my friend!”

“Becka,
please!”
Honey pleaded, embarrassed.

But Becka couldn't stop herself.

“You're not my friend! You're not! Trish and Lilah are my friends, not you!”

“Becka, stop!”

“You look ridiculous!” Becka screamed, gesturing with both hands to Honey's outfit. “You look gross! You look—pitiful!”

“Calm down, Becka. Everyone's looking!” Honey begged.

“Go away and I'll calm down. Go away, Honey! Leave me alone! I don't want to see you any more!”

Honey's mouth froze wide open. Her face turned pale.

She started to say something. Stopped. Uttered a loud sob.

Then her expression turned angry. Her face reddened.
She whirled around, her silver skirt flaring, and ran to the stairs, pushing people out of her path.

Breathing hard, Becka watched her flee up the stairs. Then she turned away, her features still twisted in anger, her hands still knotted into tight fists.

Voices rose around the room. Nervous laughter. Questions.

“What was
that
about?” a girl asked from nearby.

“I heard she had a breakdown,” someone else said in a loud whisper.

“Why are they dressed alike?” Becka heard someone ask.

Someone replied, just out of Becka's hearing. The reply was followed by raucous laughter.

Jokes at my expense, Becka thought miserably, feeling her face grow hot. Honey has turned me into a joke. Everyone's talking about me. Everyone's making fun of me now.

“Who was that other girl?” someone asked.

“Weird,” Becka heard someone else say.

She looked for Trish. She wanted to apologize for interrupting the party. But Trish was nowhere to be seen.

The music started again, a Christmas rap song. People started dancing. Becka moved to get out of the way.

Her eyes searched the room for Bill. Where has he gone? she wondered. Didn't he hear me yelling at Honey? Is he still in the den?

As she searched for him, her eye caught Trish at the top of the stairs.

What was that Trish was holding?

Squinting to see to the top of the stairs, Becka saw
that Trish was carrying a large Christmas yule log cake on a silver tray.

She saw Trish take a step.

Then she saw that Honey was at the top of the stairs, too. Right behind Trish.

Trish took another step.

And then the enormous cake appeared to fly off the tray.

It took Becka a brief moment to realize that Trish was falling, toppling headfirst down the steep stairs.

A piercing shriek escaped Trish. The horrifying sound followed her all the way down.

The tray hit first, clattering loudly on the hardwood floor.

And then Trish landed with a sickening
crack.

A
frightening silence.

Everyone seemed to freeze as if caught in a snapshot. A snapshot of horror.

The fire popped noisily in the fireplace.

Someone screamed.

The room came back to life.

Becka was one of the first to scramble across the room to Trish.

Trish had landed face down, her chest on top of the cake. The dark icing and cream filling had splattered out across the floor.

Trish didn't move. Her eyes were closed. Her head was tilted at a peculiar angle.

Becka raised her hands to her face, trying to stifle a scream.

Voices rang out. Frightened voices.

“Is she breathing?”

“Don't move her!”

“Is she awake?”

”How did she fall?”

“Someone call nine one one!”

“Where's the phone?”

“Dave is already calling!”

“Somebody call her parents!”

“Don't move her!”

Her heart pounding, Becka leaned over her unmoving friend. “Trish?” she said, her voice trembling. “Trish, can you hear me?”

Silence.

Becka realized her knees were in the gooey white cake filling. But she didn't care.

Trish's head—it was tilted wrong. It shouldn't be bent like that, she saw.

She had the strong urge to take it in both hands and straighten it.

She had the urge to turn Trish around, to sit her up, to hug her.

“Trish?”

Silence.

Behind her, Becka heard kids crying.

The room filled with confused, frightened voices.

“Did she fall?”

“Is she getting up?”

“Did you call nine one one?”

“Are her parents home? Where are they?”

Several kids clustered around Trish in a tight circle, huddling over her, speaking in hushed, frightened tones.

The fire crackled noisily.

Becka's eyes wandered to the top of the stairs.

Honey!

She was still standing on the landing, gripping the banister with one hand. She hadn't moved. She was
staring down at them all, a strange expression on her face.

Honey pushed Trish.

The words flashed into Becka's mind, sending a cold chill down her back.

She stared intently up at Honey.

Yes, Honey pushed Trish.

It took Honey a while to realize that she was being watched.

As soon as she noticed Becka staring up at her, she rearranged her expression and started to descend the stairs. I tried to catch her,” Honey cried, tears suddenly glistening in the corners of her eyes. “I tried. But I wasn't fast enough.”

Other kids, huddled around Trish, turned their attention to Honey as she made her way slowly down the stairs, tears running down her cheeks.

“I asked her to let me help carry the tray,” Honey told them through her tears. It was so heavy. But she said she had it. And then I saw her start to fall. I grabbed for her. I really did. If only I had been faster. If only . . .” Her voice trailed off, replaced by a loud sob.

No, Becka thought bitterly. No! You pushed her, Honey. You pushed Trish to get back at me.

You pushed Trish. But have you killed her?

“She's breathing funny.” Deena Martinson's voice broke into Becka's thoughts. Becka turned to see that Deena was leaning over Trish, her ear lowered nearly to Trish's face, listening hard.

“But she's breathing?” a girl asked from near the fireplace.

“She's breathing, but it's noisy. Like it's hard for her,” Deena reported.

“Where's the ambulance?” someone asked.

“Did you call?”

“I called nine one one,” came David Metcalf's voice.

“I called right away. They should be here.”

“I don't hear any sirens,” someone said.

“It's snowing out. Maybe they're having trouble,” David offered.

“Do we know where her parents are?” a girl asked.

Becka stared down at Trish's unmoving body. Again, she had the strong urge to turn Trish over, to make her more comfortable.

Trish's entire body shuddered.

Becka cried out. So did several others.

But Trish didn't open her eyes. Her breathing was loud and irregular now.

Suddenly Becka felt an arm around her shoulders.

Expecting to see Bill, she turned.

Honey!

“It'll be okay, Becka,” Honey whispered, bringing her face close to Becka's. “It'll be okay. I'm here.”

Honey uttered a loud sob. Her face was wet with tears.

Her arm was heavy on Becka's shoulder.

“You still have a friend,” Honey whispered. “I'm right here. I won't go away. I'm still here.”

“No!” Becka screamed.

Several other kids cried out in surprise.

Becka shoved Honey away and climbed to her feet.

“No!”

I have to get away, Becka thought. Away!

She ran blindly to the front door, pulled it open, and burst outside—

Into two black-uniformed police officers.

“Whoa!” one of them cried out, more surprised than Becka.

“Where are you going?” the other one demanded.

Gulping for air, Becka took a step back.

“I—I don't know—” Becka stammered. She retreated into the hallway. Everything was a blur. A frightening, spinning blur.

The two officers, shaking snow off their caps, followed her in.

“What's happened here?” one of them asked.

Becka suddenly felt dizzy, dizzy and weak, too dizzy to stand, too weak to take any more of this.

“She did it!” Becka screamed, pointing a shaky finger at Honey. “Honey pushed her! Honey pushed Trish!”

Becka saw Honey's eyes open wide in shock and disbelief.

And then everything went white, as white as the falling snow.

And then, as Becka fell, everything went black.