Lessons From A Dead Girl Part 14

"Great party, huh?"

I make myself nod.

A guy from Web's school comes over and kisses Web on the back of the neck. Web gives him a hug but doesn't introduce me. I force myself to smile at them before I step back, out of the way.

I take a sip of beer and turn to where Jess was standing, but she's gone. The room's already crowded, with a steady stream of people shoving their way in. I move to a corner where I can be invisible. I recognize a few people from some other parties, but a lot of them I've never seen before. After a while Jess appears again with her friends from Maine. I lift my hand and start to wave her over, but she turns before she sees me and gets swallowed up by the crowd. I don't go after her. I take another long drink instead. I haven't felt this lonely in a long time.

After a while, my invisible corner starts to cave in on me. Someone steps on my foot and doesn't bother to say sorry. I try to move aside, but my shoe is stuck to the floor and almost comes off before I can unstick it. I make my way through the kitchen and out to the living room. It's even more crowded.

When I get to Web's parents' room, there's a group of guys sitting on the king-size bed pa.s.sing a joint around. It's hard to breathe, and I have to go to the bathroom. People figured out the "out of order" trick, so I have to wait in line. I try not to smell the sweaty kid in front of me who is. .h.i.tting on the girl in front of him. Everyone seems to be swaying. It takes forever for people to go to the bathroom, and I'm sure I'm not going to make it.

When it's finally my turn, I step inside, close the door, and lean against it. I look around the once-immaculate bathroom. The toilet is clogged. Someone has thrown up in the bathtub. The floor is wet with either beer or pee or both, and I have to put my hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up. The scene is so depressing, so pointless, I start to cry.

Someone knocks on the door. My head spins as I straddle the toilet, afraid to touch the seat. Even though my bladder feels like it's going to burst, nothing happens. Someone pounds on the door. "Hurry the f.u.c.k up in there!"

I pull my pants up and avoid looking in the mirror as I splash cold water on my face to wash away my tears.

I open the door and shove my way through the people I don't know and escape outside to the gazebo. By then I can't hold it any longer, so I squat behind a bush.

Instead of going back inside, I sit alone in the gazebo. It's cold, but I can't bring myself to go back to the party.

"It's not safe to be out here all alone, you know."

I jump at the sound of her voice coming from the darkness. My heart races as she steps into view. I try to see her face, but the shadows hide her eyes, even when she steps up onto the gazebo and sits across from me. I can't tell in the dim light, but her hair seems blonder than before. She's wearing a low-cut, sparkly pink halter with a tight and very short black skirt.

I hug my arms around myself and try to breathe.

"Hi to you, too," she says.

"Hi," I say quietly.

She s.h.i.+fts on the bench so she's sitting sideways to face me. The light from the house s.h.i.+nes across her face as she turns. I look away from her dark eyes.

"So, does your friend know you pee in his yard?" she asks.

Was she spying on me? I hug myself tighter. "What are you doing here?" I start to stand up to leave.

"Relax, Lainey. I only came out to say hi."

Yeah. Right.

"How long have you been here?" I ask, feeling my stomach tighten. "I didn't see you inside."

"My boyfriend's been doing some business in the driveway. It was boring, so I thought I'd take a walk. That's when I saw you come out the back door and water the rosebush. You didn't get stabbed by any thorns, did you, Laine?"

I shake my pounding head.

"Look, Laine," she says, softening her voice. "I'm sorry about how I was the last time I saw you, OK? I've been pretty f.u.c.ked up lately. You know. Just dealing with s.h.i.+t."

I automatically look at her wrists. "Are you OK?"

She shrugs. "You're still coming to the parties, huh?"

"Yup."

"So where are your friends this time?"

So much for sincerity.

"Inside," I say. "I just needed some fresh air."

"Uh-huh." She smirks like she knows I'm lying.

"I better go back inside," I say. "They're probably wondering where I am."

"Oh, Laine. Come on. You don't have to be afraid of me anymore."

"I'm not afraid of you," I lie. "I just think I should get back."

And I don't want to play your games.

"I think you're afraid."

"Why do you always do this?" I ask. I don't know why I bother. I should just step off the gazebo and disappear.

"Do what?" she asks innocently.

"Act this way. Like you're playing some game. Like you're out to get me." I pause as the familiar fear courses through me. My heart pounds so hard in my chest it hurts. But instead of running away, I take a deep breath. "Why do you hate me so much, Leah?"

"Me?" She pretends to look surprised. "I could ask you the same thing. It's written all over your face, Lainey. Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you," I say. When I look her in the eye, I realize I mean it. I really don't hate her. "I just don't understand you."

"Heh. Mr. Mitch.e.l.l." She moves a little on the bench, as if she's suddenly uncomfortable. "He was wrong, you know. You can understand something and still hate it."

"Like what?"

She turns and looks out into the dark behind us. "Like Sam," she says quietly. "I understand him now. And I hate him more than ever."

Sam. It seems to always come back to him.

Don't leave me alone with Sam.

"Why do you hate him?" I ask. My words sit between us. I can almost see them. We lock eyes. Any other time I would have looked away. But not now. Maybe it's the beer that's given me confidence. I don't know. I don't care.

"You really have to ask?"

"Maybe you should tell me," I say. "Maybe you should say it out loud."

"What, you're my therapist now?" This time she's the one who looks away. "That's cute."

"You always told me if the truth was out, I would feel better. Why should it be different for you?"

She bites her bottom lip.

"Just say it."

She turns back to face me. "He did to me what I did to you, OK? Only worse."

The fear drains out of me and leaves a feeling in its place that I don't recognize. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but no words come to me. What could I possibly say?

"Yeah. Ya know what? I don't feel better," she says. "You make a s.h.i.+tty shrink, Lainey."

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. But the words feel meaningless.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know." It's the truth. I really don't know. But I am.

"Now it's your turn," she says, moving closer to me.

"What do you mean?"

"Now you tell me the truth."

"The truth about what?"

"About us, Lainey. Just say it." Her words echo mine, and I realize how awful they must have sounded. "I want you to say it out loud, Lainey. Admit you liked what we did."

"No." I feel my fear sweep back through me again. I pull my legs up onto the bench and hug my knees to my chest.

"You know what the crazy thing is?" She stands up and comes closer to me. Her arms are crossed as she looks down at me, disgusted.

I squeeze my knees closer to my chest.

"I did that s.h.i.+t to you to get rid of it." I can almost feel her hate on my face as she spits the words. "I hated it. But you liked it! You wanted it! That's sick." Her eyes are filled with tears, but she doesn't cry.

"You're wrong," I say quietly. "I didn't know what you were doing."

"Bulls.h.i.+t."

"You said we were practicing!" I wipe my own tears away from my eyes before they can run down my cheeks. "You lied! Oh, my G.o.d. You -"

I hear her words again. He did to me what I did to you.

"You're just like Sam," I say. "You're worse than Sam."

"What?"

"You're no better than Sam!" I yell the words in her face.

"How could you say that?" She looks like she wants to kill me.

"You knew what you were doing! You just said you were getting rid of what he did to you by doing it to me. How sick does that make you, Leah?"

I feel the anger swelling up so fast I want to scream. All those years of her making me feel like I was the one who should be ashamed.

"Don't get all holy on me, Lainey. Don't you dare turn this back on me. You're no saint."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. I'm holding my hands in fists so tightly, my fingernails dig into my palms.

"It means you could have done more," Leah says. "That day at the beach with Paige, you were so h.e.l.l-bent to save her. But what about me? You never wanted to f.u.c.king help me!"

A tear slips down her own cheek before she turns away from me. "That's pretty sick, Laine," she says without turning back. "Don't you think?"

All at once my stomach convulses, and I run to the edge of the gazebo and throw up over the side.

When I finish, I turn back to face her.

"Why me?" I ask her. I give up on wiping my eyes. I don't care anymore if she sees me cry. "Why did you choose me?"

"Why me?" she says back. "Why Brooke?" She looks away again and dries her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I say. "I could have helped you. I would have helped you! We could have stopped him! Instead you - you tortured me with it."

She shakes her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

She looks at me carefully, and I force myself not to look away.

"I would have helped you," I say. "You know that."

But she just shakes her head again. "I'm out of here."

"No," I say. "Answer me!"

"You don't want to know, Lainey. Trust me."

"Yes, I do."

"Then figure it out."

"How?!"

"Why didn't you stop me?" she asks quietly. Her tears are gone now. She looks like she wants to kill me, she hates me so much. "The truth, Lainey. You tell me the truth. You liked it. That's why. We both f.u.c.king liked it. We hated it, and we still wanted it. If you can't say the words out loud, I'll say them for you."

But before I can say anything, she steps into the dark and disappears.