This is WAR (12 page)

For the first time in a long while, Lina woke up without the feeling of dread heavy on her chest. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the morning light filtering in through her blinds. Her entire back wall, crown molding to baseboard, was covered in photographs. Most were from school, her friends bunched together with arms slung around shoulders, smiles so big they threatened to take over entire faces, wearing everyone’s clothes but their own. And then there was summer. Hawthorne Lake, bikinis, sunshine, and beach parties. Early lunches, late dinners, illicit happy hours. Home. Madge, Sloane and … Willa.

Lina’s smile vanished. She shot up in bed, her hands reaching for her neck, gasping for air as if ripping a hole in her throat might help her breathe. But it was no use. At least she’d had a few minutes of happiness this morning. That was longer than she’d had in ages.

The girls were due to meet at their usual spot in the Club’s attic, and because Rose kicked ass last night, Lina actually
had something to show for an otherwise waste of a day. So strange: the only thing Lina had been right about when it came to Rose McCaan was her atrocious fashion sense. The girl had proved herself and beyond.

Lina slipped into a fitted cotton dress—it skimmed her mid-thigh—and a pair of wedges that added more height to her already statuesque frame. Every single psychiatrist she was forced to talk to told her she was obsessed with her appearance to compensate for feeling like an outcast as a kid. After the third lecture, she got her first tattoo. It hurt like a bitch, but the shock on her shrink’s face had made it completely worthwhile.

When she raced into
the attic, breathless to see the look on Madge’s face at the pictures they’d taken of James last night, Rose was the only one waiting. Her hair had frizzed into a comically large halo around her head. In her defense, it was about a million degrees up there. Lina touched her closely cropped hair to make sure it hadn’t curled in the heat. Nope. Straight as a bone, as always. This is why God invented hot irons and hair product.

“Where is everyone? I skipped coffee.”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Rose quipped.

Lina raised her eyebrows. And smiled. Briefly. She didn’t want to give Rose any ideas. Respect and friendship were two very different things.

“They’re running late. Didn’t you see the texts?”

Lina flushed. “Oh … um, yeah. My battery totally died yesterday. I have to go to the store today to get a new one,” she finished lamely. She had mentally ticked off a list of excuses about her phone in bed last night, and this one had sounded a lot better in her head. Oh well. She’d find Mari
and figure everything out right after the meeting. The other girls would never have to know.

“So, how’d I do?” Lina gestured to the array of photographs spread across the old table, private-investigator style. “You know I got an A plus in photography last year.”

“We did well. Really well,” Rose said, smiling. “Took me all night, and I nearly broke my dad’s laser printer.” Lina never realized how pretty Rose could be. Her dimpled cheeks practically glowed. With the right clothes and makeup, she might even pass for a Club member. “I mean, look at this level of detail.”

Lina bent down beside Rose, tucking her legs beneath her, their heads almost touching. She couldn’t believe how realistic the pictures looked. The angle made James appear fully naked. Rose had photoshopped her bathing suit from her body, had changed her dark hair to red and strategically arranged the strands so they covered her face. Lina wasn’t sure how much more incriminating you could get. With the Club pool in the background, James might as well have been giving his Grandpa the finger. Photoshopped or not, Lina couldn’t imagine how much Rose was risking by lying next to James with her bare back to the camera. If that didn’t demonstrate her loyalty to the girls, she wasn’t sure what would. “You look hot, Rose. You need to save these. They could come in handy if you ever need something more than a headshot.”

Rose laughed so hard she snorted. Lina lost it, too. Laughter echoed off the walls, tears gathered in her eyes. Lina couldn’t remember the last time her stomach muscles had ached from anything besides an ab workout.

“Something funny?”

Madge stood in the doorway. Lina wiped her eyes, and Rose stiffened like they’d been caught making out.

“Nothing, we were just admiring my wicked photo skills,” Lina said, bending to pick up a picture and hand it to Madge. She smiled proudly. Sloane entered behind Madge with a tray of coffees, barely looking at her. She was still pissed about the other day, not that Lina could blame her. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to fix it. She also knew Sloane well enough to know that she would now feel threatened by Rose. “You look pretty, Sloane. You haven’t worn your hair down in a while.” Sloane’s long black hair hung down her back like a curtain, all gloss despite the humidity.

“Thanks,” Sloane said, shifting the tray to her other hand. Lina could tell that she wanted a reason to stop fighting. “Coffee?” She might as well have said, “Truce?”

Warmth flooded through Lina’s body. Coffee and her best friend. It was a good morning. She almost said as much, but then she remembered. Willa. Willa was dead. There was no such thing as a good morning anymore.

Madge sunk into the couch, examining every inch of the photograph. “This is pretty good.” Weak enthusiasm, but they were talking about Madge here. She’d sooner slit your throat than gush. “Rose, you can sneak this into the presentation, right?”

“I think so. My mom is clueless with PowerPoint so one of the college kids always puts it together for her. I’ll volunteer this year. She’s always bugging me to help her out.”

Madge nodded her head, pleased. “Lina?” She raised her eyebrows. “What about Trip?”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Sloane set her coffee down and pulled a piece of folded white paper from her pocket. “They gave this to me in the office. It’s a message for you, Lina.”

Puzzled, she turned around and unfolded the note.

If you want your phone, meet me at the ninth hole. Midnight
.

Mari. Of course. The girl was ruining her life, and now she wanted to meet on the freaking golf course like some sting operation? Rose was staring so she quickly shoved the paper into her pocket.

“Trust me, I’ve got it taken care of,” Lina answered with confidence. She’d get her damn phone back, and they would destroy the Gregorys as planned, one incriminating picture at a time. It shouldn’t be hard to shut Mari up. Particularly with the safety deposit box at her disposal. She twisted her War key. “I just might need to make a tiny withdrawal from our account to make it happen.”

“How much do you need?” Madge narrowed her eyes. Lina regretted accusing Madge of being cheap back in sunnier times. She was careful with money.

“Um, I don’t know, like five thousand dollars?”

“Really? That much? What’s it for?”

Lina was kicking herself for asking for that much. Five hundred probably would have been enough to pay off Mari to get her phone back. She should have known that anything over a few hundred bucks would lead to questions. “Um, I saw something at the basketball courts, and I think if I can pay off one of the waiters, this will be huge. I mean, that’s what the money’s for, right? I do have pictures, but this other guy was taking video when it all went down at the courts and video will be more …” Lina searched for the right word. The word that would make Madge buy into her bullshit. “Damning. The video will be more damning for sure.”
Jesus
. She sounded like someone on one of those stupid crime shows. “I just don’t want to jinx it by going into too much detail.”

Madge fished her necklace out from under her tank top and wrapped the chain around her finger. “I guess.” Lina let herself exhale. “But it better be good. Remember, we need to
destroy
both
of them. Everything that happened to Willa is just as much Trip’s fault as it is James’s.”

“Trust me. It’s good.” Lina forced herself to look into Madge’s eyes. It should have been easy because she was telling the truth. The stuff she had on Trip and James wasn’t just good. It was amazing. But it didn’t change the fact that she had lost all of it when she’d let Mari walk away with her phone. Just thinking about it made her stomach churn as they made their way down the stairs and out to the pool.

It was weird to wish a summer day away. She remembered lying at the pool last summer with Willa, Madge, and Sloane, pulling her string bikini straps down because the only thing that could ruin an afternoon at the Club would have been wonky tan lines. Last year she didn’t give a shit if her parents were never around, if she went to bed alone and woke up in an empty house. It was almost easier not to have to answer to anybody. If she could stop time, press pause and soak up all the happy feelings those summer days offered, bask in them like the hot summer sun, she would. But when Willa died it felt like the sun had gone with her, had disappeared behind a wall of clouds. Lina was beginning to think she’d never feel that warmth on her shoulders again.

But they went through the motions. They tanned and swam and pretended to be okay under the watchful eyes of the adults (all except her own parents, of course) in their wide-brimmed sun hats. There was lunch with Madge, dinner with Sloane and her family. And that night, when she slipped under the opening garage door and back into her house, it was just as quiet as she’d left it in the morning. Jodweiga, her housekeeper/glorified nanny, had long ago stopped waiting up for her, so Lina watched mindless television, listened to music too loud, and tried to force the hands of the clock to spin wildly around so
it would be time for her to return to the Club to confront the crazy bitch who stole her phone.

Around 11:45
P.M.
, Lina buttoned her jeans, her tired eyes heavy. She reminded herself how lucky she was. No prying mom or dad to make sure she didn’t sneak out at night. Lucky Lina.

The Club looked different when closed, the normally bright windows black against the vine-covered building. Even though she was a member, she was trespassing. She shivered at the thought, wishing she’d remembered to grab a sweater. She forgot how cold it got so close to the lake. And then it occurred to her that she hadn’t been this close to the lake at night since Willa died.

She stopped walking, paralyzed by the expanse of liquid black.
I’m panicking
. She knew the feeling, the tightening of her muscles, the familiar constriction of her chest. She needed to sit down, to submit to the attack and let it sink its claws in, only then would it pass. Lina slumped downward, pulling her knees to her chest. She knew it was past midnight. She wasn’t even close to the ninth hole, and Mari didn’t exactly seem like the patient type.

“You’re late.” Mari appeared out of thin air, doing nothing to still Lina’s already pounding heart. She continued to focus on filling her lungs with air, letting the breath out slowly, and then repeating the process. Lina hated herself for her weakness, for her position below Mari, for not being able to stand tall and control her body. And she hated Mari for being here to witness it. But she gripped the cool grass between her fingers, and pushed herself to her knees. With another breath, she stood a bit wobbly—though taller than Mari, at least.

“Give me …” Lina continued to wheeze, her heart slamming in her chest, “… my phone.”

Mari reached into her bag and calmly placed the phone in Lina’s hand. She pulled her eyebrows together. “Are you okay to get yourself home? It seemed like you were having a moment.”

“Wait. That’s it?” Lina said, finding her voice and breath at the same time. “You take my phone for twenty-four hours and just hand it back over?”

Mari laughed. “I actually should thank you. I should have said that first. Thank you.”

Lina pursed her lips, grateful that her panic attack had passed because she was about to burst. “Oh, that’s it? Thank me? For what? Trying to stop someone from raping you? Witnessing you willingly taking some date rape drug because Trip Gregory tells you to?” By now Lina was sweating, the earlier chill long forgotten. “Do you want to end up like her?” Her eyes filled with tears as she gestured to the lake. “Do you?”

“You know, it’s not always about you. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your friends even though I’m sure your mommy and daddy pay a lot of money to make it feel that way.” Mari shook her head angrily. “I never take his stupid pills. I never do anything I don’t want to do. And I sure as hell don’t need to be saved. I had him right where I wanted him the entire time.”

“But, you were drugged; you were attacked.”

“I was acting. The Gregorys are so easy.” Mari leaned in so close that her warm breath tickled Lina’s ear. “But then you swooped in to save me.” A tiny thrill ran up Lina’s spine and she shivered. “Thank you, Lina, for giving me everything that I need.” Mari turned to leave, her hair swinging over her shoulder.

The spell was broken. Lina felt like she was going to be
sick. “Wait! You can’t tell them what we’re doing. You can’t do anything with those pictures. You’ll ruin us, you’ll ruin everything!” She rushed after Mari, grabbing the soft skin of her bicep.

Mari whirled around to face Lina, shaking her loose. Inches away. Close enough for a fight. Close enough for a kiss. “You should actually be thanking me. You dodged a bullet, really. Wouldn’t you rather I go to the Captain than tell your parents what happened on the boat?” Mari flashed a dazzling smile, her eyes like knives. “You, Lina, were my Plan B. Lucky for you the Captain pays very well for this kind of information. Your little scheme is going to put me through college.”

And all at once Lina understood. Mari was using her, playing her exactly the way she’d played Trip. And worse, she’d bought it. Just like a Gregory. Lucky, lucky, Lina.

Mari started walking back toward the clubhouse. And that’s when it hit Lina. If she’d bought it just like a Gregory, she could stop it just like a Gregory.

“The Captain doesn’t always pay, you know. But we’re a sure thing.”

Mari stopped and turned. “You don’t have access to that kind of money.” There was a note of challenge in her voice. A trace of a dare.