Vanished (22 page)

Beth's parents didn't have a funeral for her. At first I
thought maybe they were hosting a small, family-only kind of thing, but they didn't even do that. I didn't know you could bury someone without doing
something
, but apparently you can. Or maybe they didn't bury her. Maybe they just kept the ashes in a can.

Some parents are naturals at the whole mom-and-dad thing. They leave notes in their kids' lunch bags. They run alongside them on the sidewalks to teach them how to ride bikes, and don't freak out if they accidentally grind Play-Doh into the carpet. I know not everyone gets good parents, or even decent parents, but it seemed
any
parent should pull together a funeral for a dead daughter. I was disgusted with
Beth's mom and dad, but my mom told me to go easy on them.

“To bury one child is an unimaginable hell, but for them to lose both—” My mom's voice broke and she shook her head violently, as if to whip the thoughts from her mind. “I can't even fathom it.” She bustled around the kitchen. She'd organized a brigade of neighborhood families to make meals for Beth's parents and to make sure their yard got mowed. “Now isn't the time to judge what they're doing,” she told me. “Now is the time for us to try to think of what we can do for them.”

I was sitting on one of the stools watching my mom. “What about Beth?” I asked.

Mom came over and hugged me. She smelled like curry and spices from cooking. “It's not the size of the funeral that matters.” She pulled back and tapped my chest. “It's the size of the hole they leave in our hearts when they go. There is no greater compliment to Beth, and the person she was, than the fact that you miss her.”

“I loved her,” I said, staring down at my hands.

“I know you did,” Mom said.

“No. Not like that. I
loved
her,” I said, looking up. I was surprised the words were out of my mouth. I hadn't planned to say anything, but I couldn't stand the way everyone had pushed Beth aside. You couldn't turn on the television or pick up a newspaper without seeing Britney's picture smiling out. Beth wasn't a story. She was dead and gone, but not for me.

My mom's eyes filled with tears and she came quickly around the island and wrapped me in a hug. “Oh, Kalah, I am so sorry.” I could hear the pain in her voice. And how she loved me.

I sobbed into her chest. She stroked my hair and let me cry. When I finished she went to the sink to wet a handful of paper towels, and pressed them gently to my face. “I didn't know,” she said. “I had no idea.”

I sniffed. “I didn't want you to know.” I took another paper towel and blew my nose. “I didn't want anyone to know.”

Mom tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Love can be confusing at the best of times. I can't say I understand what you're going through, but I want to.”

“I'm not sure it matters now. Beth's gone.” My breath kept hitching in my chest.

“It matters that you loved her. That's never gone.”

I nodded. I didn't trust myself to say anything else without starting to cry all over again.

“I'm going to make us some tea.” Mom put the kettle on the stove. She opened the cupboard and pursed her lips. “Mint or chai?”

“Mint,” I said.

She pulled out the tin and swirled hot water in the teapot, getting it ready. She grabbed some honey. It relaxed me to watch her. She moved through the kitchen like a ballet dancer. “I'm glad you have Britney back in your life,” she said.

Hearing Brit's name was like a sliver of ice through my chest.

“I know I was critical of her at times, but I also know how important friendships can be. You two will both do better knowing you have each other to get through this.”

I nodded again.

Mom turned and smiled. “Good friends are everything.”

I stayed home
from school. The official story was that I had a cold, but the truth was I wasn't ready to face the world and my parents weren't interested in pushing me.

I'd decided to have my own service for Beth. I went to Lighthouse Park.

The beach was empty of people but full of stuff. Now that people knew that Beth was the one who'd died, they'd turned the spot into some kind of shrine for her, leaving notes and tokens and flowers there. People thought she'd died at the Point saving Brit. I knew she hadn't died there, that she'd been murdered in Britney's basement, but this was still where she'd kissed me for the first time. I felt closer to her here.

I crouched down near the driftwood log where people had left candles and gifts. I put down the bouquet of bright gerbera daisies I'd bought—red, orange, yellow, and hot pink. There was a huge bouquet of dark roses already there. I read the card.

With our deepest condolences, the Ryerson-Matson family
.

I plucked one of the rose heads from the stem. The velvet-soft petals bruised as I crushed them in my hand. I let go and they sprinkled down on the ground. I brushed my hand against my leg. I had to remember why I came.

I pulled out Beth's copy of
Alice in Wonderland
. “I thought I should say a few words,” I said into the wind. “It seemed to me you wouldn't want me to give some kind of big speech, so I thought you might like this better.” I cleared my throat and found the places I'd marked with a Post-it note.

“The sun was shining on the sea
,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright—

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night
.

 

The moon was shining sulkily
,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done—

‘It's very rude of him,' she said
,

‘To come and spoil the fun!'

 

The sea was wet as wet could be
,

The sands were dry as dry
.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead—

There were no birds to fly
.

 

In a Wonderland they lie

Dreaming as the days go by
,

Dreaming as the summers die.”

I closed the book. There wasn't any sound other than the wind whispering in the long beach grass. “I was going to tell you, if I ever got up the guts, that I love you.” I felt a little silly talking to the empty air, but I forced myself to keep going. I wouldn't be able to move forward if I didn't try to find some way to tell her what I felt.

“I like to think that you knew, but I still wish I had told you. I didn't say anything before for all sorts of reasons. Because I was afraid you might not feel the same way. Because I was afraid you might think I was being weird, all mushy and overly emotional. Because maybe you were just messing around and I was making it into something it wasn't. Because I was confused about Zach and my feelings for him. Because I wasn't sure if loving you meant I might be gay and if I could even handle that.

“Basically, it comes down to all the stuff I was afraid might happen if I told you. It never occurred to me to be afraid of what might happen if I
didn't
take the chance. I
assumed we had all this time, but I was wrong.

“This is sort of a bitch of a way to learn that regretting stuff you didn't do is worse than regretting stuff you tried and failed at. The point is, now I'll never be able to tell you.” I glanced down at the log, remembering sitting there with her, sharing her dad's bourbon. Clueless of what was going to happen. “Nothing against this conversation, but it doesn't really count.

“I wanted to tell you that knowing you, loving you, made me a better person. I want to be the person you deserved. This might seem stupid, but when we first started hanging out I thought of you like some kind of modern fairy godmother come to life. You were beautiful and smart and brave, but you weren't the type to wait for anyone else to rescue you. The fact that you noticed me and seemed to like me, it made me like myself better. If you could find me interesting, then you must have seen something that I hadn't seen yet, maybe hadn't realized yet.”

I bent down and brushed a clump of rose petals off the log. “I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to do this right.” I closed my eyes and let myself remember the sensation of her brushing the sand from my lips before that first kiss.

I stood and took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Part of me wanted to let this tragedy end here. There wasn't going to be any easy solution to what had happened. No one was interested in digging up the truth. Not Britney's parents, or mine, not the police, not the teachers at school, not
the media. Everyone liked the story the way it was.

I wanted to go back to a time when all I worried about was pop quizzes and field hockey and whether it would be better to get a job at the mall for the summer or try for a position as a camp counselor. I wanted to have concerns that were everyday and simple and not about death and lies. I didn't want to think about what would happen if Brit realized I knew the truth.

But as much as I wanted to shut the door and declare it as past tense, I couldn't forget Beth that easily. I couldn't pretend that I didn't know what Brit had done. Brit had killed Beth, and she was getting away with it. The only person who could fix that was me.

Sooner or later Brit would slip up. She would make a mistake. She would give something away.

And I would be right by her side when she made that mistake. I would use it to bring her down.

This had to
be Brit's fantasy come to life. There was a giant banner in the main hall with foot-high letters painted in blue:
WELCOME BACK, BRITNEY!
She was standing by her locker holding court. Her hair was back to the perfect shade of blond, and it looked like she'd had a blowout this morning. No doubt she wanted to look good. She had a media image to keep up.

I'd seen Britney on TV last night. She'd done a personal interview with a reporter from CNN. She'd sat on her
parents' sofa, sandwiched between them, perfect Swarovski crystal tears hovering in each eye. The lights of the camera glinting off the new highlights in her hair.

“Beth was like a sister to me.” Brit had covered her heart with her hand. She'd had a manicure, a tasteful pale pink. “I wish I could remember more, but I know she died trying to save me. She's my hero.”

I'd watched the TV, the remote clutched in one hand, pushing back a wall of rage.

“I plan to honor my best friend's memory by living my life to its fullest. I know that's what Beth would want.” Britney had faced the camera and smiled through her tears.

I watched Brit now from the front door of the school. She reminded me of a silent movie actress, big eyes and lots of dramatic hand motions as she spoke to her admiring fans. She glanced over and spotted me at the doorway. I sensed she'd been waiting for me to show up. It was now or never. Showtime.

“Brit-Brit!” I yelled out.

“Kah-bear!” she called back, throwing both of her arms in the air.

We ran toward each other like one of those slow-motion scenes in cheesy movies. I did my best not to flinch as we hugged. Her bracelets jangled in my ear.

“I'm so glad you're back. You have no idea how much I missed you,” I gushed, squeezing her tight. This was the only strategy I had. I was going to be Britney's new best
friend. I had to make her believe everything I'd told her in those chat sessions was real. That I would be there for her no matter what.

I'd be the most devoted best friend she'd ever imagined, until I found a way to destroy her.

There were only two people who knew what had really happened to Beth and one of them was dead. I needed Brit to trust me. To let down her guard. I needed to give her space to slip up. Brit had to believe I was the loyal BFF she'd always wanted. I had to almost believe it myself if I was going to fool her. This was a serious trip down the rabbit hole.

We broke out of the hug. “C'mon, guys, give Brit some space.” I motioned for people to back up.

“What are you, her personal bodyguard?” Melissa said.

Brit narrowed her eyes at Melissa and threw her arm around me. “No, she's my best friend. You should try getting one sometime.”

I burst into a huge smile. Melissa's face turned tomato red. Britney poked Melissa in the stomach. “God, don't get mad. I was just joking.”

I laughed like I thought it was the best joke in the world, and Melissa was forced to laugh too. No one could afford to be on the outs with Britney.

“I should get to class,” Brit said to the crowd, making a pout with her glossy lips. “You guys have no idea how behind I am. I'll catch up with all of you at lunch.” She waggled her
fingers at them as we stepped away.