Friends Like These(76)

“I still don’t see what this project of yours or this journal has to do with Crystal or that dead guy in Derrick Chism’s car. Because that’s all I care about, Mr. Hendrix.”

“To be honest, I’ve been a little worried you might say I wasn’t allowed to use Alice’s journal in my installation, because it could be evidence of something.”

“Evidence of what?”

“They killed somebody before. Maybe they did it again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can read all about it yourself. I forgot the pages back at Jonathan’s house. Supposedly, it was an accident. Guy fell off a roof. But then they just left him there to die. Alice was so upset, she killed herself. I’m telling you, that’s the kind of thing these people do— bad thing after bad thing until people end up dead. I’m going to have the pages blown up, poster-size, as part of the installation.” He leaned in like he was sharing a precious secret. “You want to know what the piece is called?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me, regardless.”

“Friends Like These.” This time Finch smiles, a shit-eating grin. “Clever, huh?”





KEITH


SATURDAY, 5:14 P.M.

“Yeah,” I finally answered once Stephanie was gone.

I’d felt a jolt of panic when the phone rang. Especially with Stephanie sitting right there. But I had a plan, one that would keep everyone else safe, which was all that mattered.

“You get the gift?” The same voice from the night before, deep and toneless.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said. “Super creative. Do I get the photograph back?”

“Sure. You have our money?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Such an easy lie.

“All eighty thousand?” Wise skepticism.

“No, twenty.”

I’d heard Peter on the phone with the contractors— at least I was assuming it was them— talking about having that much. I liked that it was an amount of money that existed nearby. Made it easier to lie. Also, I’d been such a deadbeat so far, having only some of the cash was exactly the kind of thing I’d do. And it was important that they believe me. It was the best way to get them to come after me, and leave my friends alone.

“Twenty thousand? Are you fucking kidding me? How about the eighty thousand you owe?”

“Twenty thousand is what I’ve got for now,” I said. “I’ll get you the rest. If you kill me you get nothing. Consider the twenty thousand a show of good faith.”

“Meet us out front,” he said. “End of the driveway— ten minutes.”

“No, no,” I said. “Can’t do that.”

“Oh, no?” He sounded amused in an I-am-going-to-enjoy-killing-you-slowly kind of way.

“No,” I said. “I’m going to have to grab the money off my friend. If I stay near the house, they might call the police. I’ll meet you downtown.”

“You think you got space to negotiate here?”

“I think Frank is going to be pissed if you come back empty-handed. If you want your money, this is the way to get it.”

“Fine. Eight p.m. downtown,” he said finally. “Look for a text with an address.”

I waited for some rush of regret after I hung up. The return of that fear. But nothing came. Protecting my friends was the right thing to do. After everything they had done for me over the years, everything they were still doing— it needed to stop. Otherwise, I’d just keep dragging all of them down, forever. I knew that I would.

Worst of all was letting them share the blame for Alice. When what happened was all my fault, not theirs. I’d taken our fragile, broken friend, a girl I loved, and shoved her right over the edge— and I’d never owned up.

Alice had been off her medication for weeks before the roof. I could always tell. I’d told her to get back on it. The way I always did— with a lot of bravado, but without any actual follow-through. I didn’t call her mom, didn’t go to the health center. Didn’t tell anyone. Because deep down I was too afraid they’d say I was the reason she needed medication in the first place. How fucking self-involved is that?

And then the accident on the roof happened, and Alice went from bad to so much worse. I knew that I couldn’t, shouldn’t, be accountable for her. Alice needed someone brave enough to actually help her, strong enough to make the right choices.

Alice saw it coming, too. Right away, she seemed defensive when I showed up outside her dance class unannounced. Tugging on one of her long reddish braids, looking strong and fragile all at once in her cropped hoodie and leggings. It was only five days after the roof. Five days for me to realize that I didn’t have it in me to put Alice back together again. We needed to be apart for good.

“What’s wrong?” Alice asked me, already downshifting from defensive to wounded.

Staring at her sweet, freckled face, I wanted to cave. To forget the whole thing. But what about the damage I’d do if Alice and I stayed together? And so I panicked when I felt myself wavering, all the careful things I’d planned to say going out the window. I grabbed instead for something quick and easy and so unbelievably cruel.

“I’m in love with somebody else.”