This is WAR (20 page)

The smile on Rose’s face faded. “Every day.” Her dark eyes burned into Sloane’s.

“He doesn’t remember.” Sloane’s voice was barely above a whisper. “He wanted me to tell you that he doesn’t remember.”

Rose’s face went white, her eyes wide. Sloane found herself standing. Her knees wobbled. She wanted to bolt from this bedroom before she broke apart into pieces. Nothing made sense anymore. Not James or Rose or the watches or the Gregorys. And this time there was no one to help her cheat, no geek she could pay to tell her the truth and make her look smart. This time Sloane was on her own. The fresh tears in Rose’s eyes confirmed it.

“I should go,” Sloane said.

“Yes,” Rose choked out. “You should.”

Chapter 23

First the repair. Then the packaging. Sloane had sent the watches as promised to the highest bidder, omitting a return address. An anonymous account had been created, the money transferred and withdrawn, only to be tucked back into the safety deposit box where it belonged. The score had been evened; what was lost to Mari was returned by the Captain. Over the past five days, Sloane had followed all the rules. Yet she felt emptier and more confused than ever. Maybe that’s because the only thing left for the girls to do was watch the boys and wait for the other shoe to fall.

Rose offered a hand to Sloane as they climbed the jagged rocks lining the beach. “How do you even know he’ll be here?” she whispered, swiping her hand across her forehead. “Doesn’t he usually hang around the Club during the day?”

Sloane knew because ever since her collision with James at the driving range, she’d felt a pull she couldn’t explain and kept ending up on the beach. And without fail she’d spot him there, punishing himself. Sometimes he sat for hours, staring
at the great expanse of blue. Other days he’d run the rocky shoreline only to return an hour later, his face dripping with sweat or tears; Sloane could never be sure which. She suspected both. It looked an awful lot like penance. The silence. The running. The drinking. On repeat. She promised herself that she’d report to Madge, explain her findings, and inquire if Trip’s behavior mirrored James’s. If they were both self-destructing maybe the girls should just sit back and enjoy the show. Maybe it would be safer that way.

Today James was stripped bare. Literally.

Sloane and Rose crouched low, peering from behind the rocks. He lay face up on the sand, no blanket beneath him, completely naked. The sun beat down on his body, sweat beaded on his chest. He was still.

“Should we …” Rose’s light brown skin had turned pink. “I mean, do you think he’s okay?”

Sloane knew she should hate Rose for whatever history she had with James. After all, Willa was in love with him, too. It was her one big flaw, her one true weakness. Willa Ames-Rowan wasn’t perfect, either. She’d always had a crush on him, and this year it had seemed more heightened, more acute somehow. But Sloane had to admit they made sense together. She couldn’t say the same for Rose and James. They came from completely different worlds. Not exactly a solid foundation on which to build a relationship. Sloane knew a thing or two about faking and passing. In the end, it destroyed you from the inside.

“He’s always out here. Ever since …” Sloane let her words trail away.

James struggled to push up on his elbows, sand clinging to his back. He unearthed his cell phone from the pile of clothes strewn next to him, dropping it into the sand once
and retrieving it. After rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to his feet to dress in his shorts and T-shirt.

Cautiously, the girls followed. In his state, they didn’t even have to keep that much of a distance. James was completely wasted as he lurched back toward the Club. Sloane couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone who cared enough to escort him home, to put water by the side of his bed and wait until he sobered up to work through the entire, tangled mess. But no one seemed to notice. No one waved or smiled or stopped to chat, not even when James struggled at the gate, his body leaning into the iron. No one questioned him when he laughed hysterically after pushing into the French doors when he should have been pulling.

But Sloane knew there were whispers. They followed him everywhere he went. Hushed words about his sobriety, his grandfather, and his guilt. Sloane would self-destruct, too, if whispers followed her like a shadow. That’s why she guarded her secrets so closely. Theoretically she’d actually have to say something out loud in order for people to start whispering about her. Being quiet was safer. Smarter.

James stumbled by Rory O’Neil on the back terrace. Rory smirked as he passed. Sloane’s eyes narrowed. He was sitting with a girl wearing large, black sunglasses, her thick hair arranged into an oversized bun on top of her head. God only knew what he was up to. She slowed.

Rose pulled Sloane’s arm toward a different entrance. Apparently she was avoiding the table as well.

“Liu!” Too late. Sloane pretended not to hear. She gulped when Rose scrunched her forehead in confusion. She had no pills for Rory’s sister and hoped he’d get the hint and leave her alone.

“What does he want with you?” Rose whispered. “Stay
away from him. You saw him in those pictures Lina took. He’s a drug dealer.”

Sloane just shook her head, hanging close to Rose. But as she gripped the ornate handle of Hawthorne Lake’s French doors, Rose’s words echoed in her brain. The picture Lina took. James paying Rory on the basketball courts.
“Drug dealer. Drug dealer. Drug dealer.”

“I’m going after James,” Rose hissed. “Ditch Rory.”

Sloane raced down the hall alone, fleeing Rory’s insistent “Liu. Liu!” At least Rose wouldn’t have a hard time trailing James. He dropped breadcrumbs in the form of a tipped vase, some bills and change—even his cell phone—which Sloane watched Rose bend to retrieve before she rounded a corner out of sight.

“What do you have for me? This is good shit, Liu. Nice work.”

The words played on repeat. Sloane had to steady herself against the wall, the knots in her stomach twisting when she visualized the picture Lina had snapped. James handing money to Rory. He couldn’t be … They couldn’t have been … They weren’t hers …

“What do you have for me? This is good shit, Liu. Nice work.”

Rory’s voice added even more knots, sharp pain shooting within her gut. Coupled with James’s words, she doubled over.

“I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember.”

The walls shifted and began to close in on her. She slid to the floor and fumbled for her phone, hands shaking. Slowly she typed the word “narcolepsy” into her search bar, unable to remember the name of the little white pills she’d given to Rory. In her mind, the medicine would be abused by nerds
who wanted to stay up all night to study for some big exam. She reminded herself of this as her phone pulled up results, reminded herself that those little white pills would never make James forget, would never make Willa … she couldn’t even finish her thought.

“What are you waiting for?” Rose peered around the corner, waving Sloane over. “This is it!”

Sloane shoved the phone back in her pocket and got to her feet. Her mind was in a fog. Rose wasn’t alone. Lina and Madge stood near one of the windows. Nadia dusted baseboards and Kira washed walls around the corner. Every soldier in the War was here—right outside the Captain’s office. It could only mean one thing. The Gregory clan had converged.

The Captain’s office was obscene, more like a library really, with rows of rare books lining the mahogany shelves. The door was closed, but if they stood close enough, they could catch the gist of the conversation inside. Lina grinned wickedly. Sloane felt sick. But she smiled back, because it was easier. Because she had to.

“It’s working, you guys!” Madge whispered. Her smile was too big. Sloane had never really understood what people meant by the term crazy eyes, but looking at Madge, she totally got it. Harsh words floated through the cracks as the Captain screamed about watches, family history, and pride. He yelled at the boys for getting into trouble and selling the watches. He yelled at them for having to buy them back. Trip’s muffled voice was hard to understand, but Sloane could hear that he was confused, mumbling about theft and trying to convince his Grandpa that they hadn’t done anything wrong. James, of course, was silent.

And then they heard a crack. And a whimper. And a crash. And James, slurring something.

It played like a movie in Sloane’s head. She couldn’t see it, but the violent noise told the story. First the Captain hit Trip, then Trip fell to his knees and James stepped forward to protect him. Although maybe the last part didn’t happen, considering James’s condition. Madge pushed her fingers to her lips to stifle laughter, and Lina’s eyes grew round.

“It was stupid,” James barked loudly. The girls pushed their ears closer to the door, to be sure they heard correctly. “We shouldn’t have sold them. It was dumb and it won’t happen again.”

The Captain had some choice words to say in response, but even from behind the heavy wood, they all knew the worst was over. The boys were off the hook, yet again.

Sloane couldn’t work out how she felt. She knew she should be furious, but she was kind of relieved that James hadn’t been disinherited because of their stupid prank. Part of her felt like this whole situation was spiraling out of control. What were they doing? Who were they punishing? Sloane forced herself to look into the eyes of her friends. They all looked tired. They were losing the War.

“Maybe this is a sign,” she whispered.

Madge didn’t hear her, or maybe just pretended not to hear. She merely took a deep breath and said in a strong, clear voice, “We’re going to need a new plan.”

Nobody said a word. They all backed away from the door.

“But how do we even know for sure that James did it?” Rose whispered.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Sloane was scared for her.

Madge moved in for the kill. “We know because I saw him on a boat with my sister. And for the record, his asshole
brother was the one who helped them both get into the lifeboat. So, yeah. I’m pretty damn sure.”

Rose just stood there. She looked Madge in the eye. Shockingly enough her cold silence seemed to work. When Madge spoke again, almost all of the frustration was gone.

“He did it, okay? And I need the people who killed my sister to pay. I just …” She grabbed Lina’s hand and then Sloane’s, begging Rose to understand. Rose placed her fingers on top. “I just need to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

And in that moment, Sloane didn’t need to read the Google search results on her phone or talk to Rory or research the drugs she’d given him. Because in that moment, the pieces clicked together with sickening finality. The reason James didn’t remember anything about that night wasn’t because he was drunk like everyone thought. It was because of Sloane and her inability to be honest with herself or her parents. It was because she gave pills to a messed-up busboy in an effort to make some stupid statement about who was in charge of her life.

Her arm involuntarily went to her stomach like she might be able to prevent her breakfast from forcing its way up her esophagus and out of her mouth. Luckily she made it to the nearest exit before losing everything in the bushes beside the door.

I killed Willa. I killed Willa. I killed Willa
.

“Come on, Sloane! What are you so afraid of?” Willa stood on top of a table, dancing wildly to the band that was now covering the Beastie Boys
.

Classic Willa. Two beers and she channeled a scantily clad pop star. Sloane wondered what it must be like to be fearless, to dance on tables and not worry about falling off or singing the wrong lyrics to the song at the top of her lungs. Sloane would never forget the slumber party last summer where she’d sang
, “Hold me closer, Tony Danza. Count the head lice on the highway …”
to an old Elton John song. Lina still wouldn’t let her live it down. The most fearless thing she’d done all night was hit
IGNORE
on the phone that vibrated in her pocket
.

The boat rocked dangerously, and Sloane skidded into something, or as it turned out, someone, dancing right behind her. His body was sweaty, and he grinded his lower half against hers in rhythm to the music
.

Sloane’s cheeks were already on fire when she looked back to see Trip Gregory’s lopsided grin
.

“What up, Liu? I have a thing for Asians, you know.”

Sloane pried his hands off her waist and jerked away from him. As far as she knew, as far as everyone knew, Trip Gregory had a thing for just about every girl. Sloane glanced back up at Willa, swaying to the music, her eyes trained on the doorway across the room. She’d be no help. Willa was on a mission; it was almost as if she’d made James the leading man in one of her romance novels, and she was willing to do just about anything to make sure they got their happy ending. So far James seemed immune to Willa’s charms, but no one could resist her for long. Besides, landing James would make her friend happy, and that was enough to make Sloane happy, too. But that didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with Trip. Sloane jerked away
.