Lessons from a Dead Girl by Jo Knowles


  “Well, we’re here for you, Lainey. Right, Jess?”

  “Definitely.”

  The three of us all lie back down again. I close my eyes and tilt my head to the sun.

  The little girls scream and giggle and sound happy as they run off again.

  “This is heaven,” Web says softly.

  “You’re a sap,” Jess tells him.

  “Thank you,” I say to the sky. Because I believe them. I believe they are here for me. Even if I can’t tell them the secret.

  We’re quiet, listening to the happy noises around us. I concentrate on all the good things surrounding me at this moment. But Leah is in the shadows. She always will be. Our secret keeps her there. Friends forever.

  By spring break Web’s parties are legendary. When I show up for his “Big Break” party, there’s already a line of cars parked down the street. People are spilling out of the house and into the driveway. Web’s parents will be coming back from their winter place in a few weeks, so Web says he has to make the most of these final days of freedom.

  Web and Jess are already drinking when I get there.

  “Lainey!” they yell as soon as they see me. They both seem totally buzzed already. Jess introduces me to a bunch of her friends from Maine who drove all the way here for the big event. I feel their eyes on me as they check me out. I wonder what Jess told them about me. She puts her arm around my waist and squeezes.

  “Ready for some fun?” she asks.

  Before I can answer, Web kisses me on the cheek, then pushes a beer in my hand.

  As he does, one of Jess’s friends starts chanting, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” Pretty soon everyone in the room joins in.

  Web rolls his eyes but smiles, too. He nods, urging me to do it.

  I put the cup to my mouth and try not to breathe in and smell the bitter beer. The first drink is always the hardest. I force myself to swallow a mouthful, but the chants get louder. I swallow again. And again. Some of the beer drips over the side of the cup and slides down both sides of my chin. When I put the cup down, it’s empty. Web wipes my chin with the back of his hand as people give a halfhearted cheer, then go back to what they were doing. Web fills my cup again and winks at me.

  “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 passing 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 hitting 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 fuck 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 shifts on the bench so she’s sitting sideways to face me. The light from the house shines 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 fucked up lately. You know. Just dealing with shit.”

  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. Mitchell.” 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 shitty 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 shit 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.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “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 God. 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 hell-bent to save her. But what about me? You never wanted to fucking 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 fucking 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.

  The gazebo is quiet. I slide myself onto the cold, wooden floor and curl back into a ball.

  You liked it. We both fucking liked it.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and try to shut out her words by concentrating on the party noises in the distance. They sound like the hum of a TV when you’re not watching.

  The hard floor makes my head ache more than it did before, but I don’t get up. I don’t move. I feel all the ugliness and shame I’ve bottled up pour over me and cover me like a blanket.

  Leah used me. She picked me because somehow she knew I would keep her secrets. Somehow she knew I would do whatever she wanted. She knew I wouldn’t stop her. Somehow she knew. . . . She knew part of me would like it.

  “Laine? Is that you?”

  Web’s warm hand presses against my shoulder and shakes me. I don’t move. I don’t want him to see me.

  “Lainey? Jesus, are you OK?”

  I cover my face with my hands.

  “What’s going on?” Jess comes around the other side and pulls my hands away.

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  I’m crying again. I sit up and look at them. Their innocent faces. How can I tell them the truth?

  I wipe my face with my shirt. “Just drank too much,” I say, trying to smile.

  Web makes a face like he doesn’t believe me. “Why are you crying?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea!” I force a laugh. “Guess I just got kind of emotional about our last party.”

  Jess sits down next to me. “I saw Leah come in the back door, Lainey. Was she hassling you again?”

  My hands are shaking. I pull my knees back to my chest and hug them to keep myself still. “Nah,” I say, careful not to meet their eyes.

  “Web, I peed in your mother’s flowers,” I say, trying to change the subject.

  “Cool.” He smiles that way he does, then puts his hand on my knee. “You sure you’re OK?”

  Tell him the truth, I think. Just tell him. I open my mouth. I don’t know where I’ll start, but if I can just say something, anything —

  There’s a shriek from inside the house and then a bunch of cheers.

  “Shit, this is a crazy party,” Web says, forgetting his question.

  “Good thing it’s the last one.” Jess leans her head against mine.

  “Let’s go back in,” Web says. “It’s too cold out here.” He holds his hands out to us and pulls us up.

  “I hope you saved your bed for us, ’cause I need to pass out,” Jess says.

  Web takes his key chain out of his pocket and jingles it. “Kept it locked up just for you, my friends.”

  We each take his arm and let him lead us back toward the house. I feel the gazebo and the secrets it holds getting smaller behind me. I want to be happy. To finally just let the past slip away into the night. I
pause and breathe in the cold, fresh air.

  Web tugs my arm. “Come on, girlie! The night’s still young!”

  I fake a giggle and let him lead me back in.

  The light in the living room is painfully bright. A bunch of people, including Lucas, are hanging out on the couch, passing around another joint. I think some of them are Jess’s friends from Maine.

  “Who’s next?” asks a girl I don’t know.

  “Me,” a voice says from behind us.

  I spin around and look for the face that goes with it. She winks at me as if the conversation in the gazebo never took place, then walks past and reaches for the joint. Her eyes are slightly bloodshot, but no one would know it’s because she’s been crying. She takes a long, slow hit without taking her eyes off me. A hulky guy who looks like he’s in his twenties steps up behind her and puts his hand around her waist. She breathes out and passes the joint to him. He makes a big production out of inhaling forever, then gives it to the person on the other end of the couch.

  Web and Jess stand on either side of me, watching the joint get smaller as it makes its way along the couch. The whole time I feel Leah watching me, but I don’t acknowledge her. When the joint reaches the far end of the couch again, the girl holds it out to Jess. She takes a quick hit and offers it to me, but I pass.

  “I’ll take it,” Leah says. She licks her lips before bringing the joint to her mouth, then takes another long drag. As she breathes out, she makes a kiss with her lips and blows the smoke in my face.

  “Come on, Lainey,” she says, holding it out to me. “This is one thing we’ve never done together.”

  Her boyfriend half laughs, like he knows.

  When she hands me the joint, she tickles the inside of my hand with her middle finger and winks at me. I pull my hand away fast.

  I try to take a quick hit, but as soon as I bring the tip to my mouth, I feel her spit on my lips. I pass it to Web.

  “Remember what good friends we used to be, Lainey?” Leah says, stepping closer to me. “We were really good friends. Friends forever. Remember?”

  I take a step back. Everyone is looking at us.

  Web moves closer to me, protectively. I don’t know how he knows she’s about to pounce.

 
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