The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett(23)

I saw Lizzie tilt her head back to look at the swollen moon, saw her golden hair falling over her shoulders. Her lips pulled back to reveal her perfectly straight, white teeth starting to lengthen, and then the beautiful young girl snarled and fell to her knees as the snarl became a howl and her bones reshaped themselves.

I wished I’d been there to see it.

When I looked at the dining room again, Lorenzo Calvetti was gone. Enzo, I corrected myself. I wished I’d had a chance to talk to him more, but it wasn’t too much of a concern. I was sure he’d be back.

? ? ?

I was sitting outside on the porch reading The Werewolf of Paris, which a lot of people consider to be the werewolf novel, when a car door slammed shut. There were muffled voices and shuffling sounds and then another door slam.

It was around midnight, and the neighborhood was dark. I got off the swing and walked to the edge of the porch to see a shape emerging from the darkness. It was looming, too big to be a person, and moving in an inhuman way. It figured that just when something fascinating was finally happening in my life, a monster would come along and kill me, ruining everything. The monster drew closer and split in two, and I saw that it wasn’t a monster after all. Rather, two people, one leaning on the other for support.

My brother was clearly very drunk, and Connor struggled to keep him upright. When they neared the house, Connor noticed me.

“Thorny. What are you doing out here?”

“I live here. Is he going to throw up?”

“I don’t think so. He already lost most of his dinner in my car.”

“Gross.”

Connor half dragged Rush up the porch steps.

“Where’d you park?” I asked.

“Down the street. I didn’t want to wake up your parents.”

I helped Connor dump Rush on the swing, where he instantly passed out. He reeked of beer and vomit, which was not a combination I enjoyed. Since my seat had been stolen, I sat at the top of the porch steps. Connor sat down next to me.

“The Werewolf of Paris,” he said, pointing to the cover of my book. “Any good?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty dark. There’s a lot of rape and incest and stuff.”

“Sounds charming.” He paused. “I hear you’ve taken an interest in werewolves lately.”

I winced. How many people had my brother been babbling to?

“Rush told you about the Lizzie thing, huh?”

“He did.”

“And you think I’m crazy.”

“Nope,” Connor said.

I looked over at him, surprised.

Connor grinned. “I’d only think you were crazy if you really believed it.”

“I do believe it,” I protested.

“Sure you do, Thorny.”

I rolled my eyes and opened my book. A minute later, when Connor hadn’t left, I closed it again.

“What do you think of Lizzie?” I asked.

“I think she probably got lost.”

“No, not about her vanishing. About Lizzie as a person.”

“I don’t think anything about her,” Connor said.

“You must think something. You were part of that group when you were in high school.”

“Not like Lizzie and Rush were. I played football because I grew up thinking I had to. I didn’t like it much. And I wasn’t very good.”

“You don’t miss it?”

Connor laughed. “Not even a little bit.”

“Rush does.”

“Rush thought football was going to be his life.”

That was true. My brother had thought he’d get into Ohio State on a full football scholarship. They didn’t even want him on the team. Maybe, probably, he could have gone somewhere else and played, but his stupid jock pride wouldn’t let him. Now, he wasn’t playing football anywhere and taking classes at the community college.

“What’s going to be your life?” I asked Connor.

“I’m majoring in electrical engineering. So I guess at the moment, it’s that.”

“Sounds sort of boring.”

“I’m having way more fun than I ever did on the field.”

The whole conversation was weird. Connor had been hanging around my house since I was twelve, but I’d never talked to him so much at once. Rush had always kept his friends separate from me.

“I don’t believe you weren’t in love with Lizzie,” I said after a while. “Everyone was.”

Connor looked at me and seemed genuinely curious. “Why are you so sure of that?”

“She was perfect.”

“She was just a girl. And not really my type. Honestly, she was kind of dull.”

“Then you’re, like, the only person on the planet who thinks so.”

“Don’t confuse being popular with being interesting,” Connor said.

That made me pause for a second, even though I was positive Connor was lying. A girl like Lizzie was everyone’s type, and anyone who said otherwise was making an excuse for why she never chose him.

“I met her boyfriend tonight,” I said. “Enzo. He seemed sad.”

“I’d hope so. His girlfriend disappeared.”

I suddenly desperately wanted to be alone. I wanted to keep reading my book. I wanted to think about everything Enzo had said to me. I stood up.