Nine Liars (Truly Devious, #5)(26)

“We’ve got to eat kind of quickly. We’ve got to leave in”—he consulted his phone—“fifteen minutes.”

David was not the kind of person they typically wanted to follow to a second location, but here, he was the guide. It made Janelle visibly nervous. Vi was clearly fine with it, and Nate just wanted something to eat and was prepared to go against his better judgment. They polished off the fish and chips, drained the glasses, and pushed out of the booth, back into the night.

He took them out a back passage, through a short tunnel and over a bridge, finally emerging on the riverbank on the far side. There was no visible rain, but microscopic needles of moisture blew through the air, directly into their faces. David put his arm around Stevie, drawing her to his side. It was awkward walking this way, but nothing in the world had ever been better. The wine was on her lips and there was a happy fuzziness in her head that smeared the lights of London into a painter’s palette of shine and color. The dark waters of the Thames plugged along beside them, smelling faintly of the sea. Or was that something else? Her senses were jumbled. She was tired and heavy and extremely awake, all at once.

David had a jaunty, springy walk. He hadn’t shaved in maybe a day or two, and there was a bit of shadow over his chin and above his lip. He must have known how good this looked, or else he would have gotten rid of it. It was the perfect amount of stubble, an artistic amount of stubble. The sweater was new—black, formfitting. Was all of this for her? Was the world really this good? The wine warmed her brain, and her hormones warmed the rest.

She needed this night to go on and on and never stop.

They walked briskly back along the river, past the tourist information and the London Dungeon and a merrily painted old-fashioned carousel. Ahead of them was a massive, illuminated wheel. It dominated the riverfront like a spinning crown, glowing a purple blue. This was the London Eye, a Ferris wheel of epic proportions. It didn’t have seats—it had pods—sealed glass rooms that could hold maybe twenty people as they made their way up and around. Only a few people were in line. It seemed that not many people wanted to come out on a wet November night like this.

There was a girl, standing off by herself. She was tall and angular, with a sweeping point of a chin. Even through her thick duck-egg-blue coat, you could tell her elbows were pointy. She had a mass of brown hair whipped up into a messy bun, and an oversized pair of glasses guarding a pair of brown eyes with carefully winged liner. She was waving her arms in their direction like she was guiding in a plane.

“Who is that?” Stevie asked.

“That,” he said as they approached her, “is Izzy. She’s one of my tutorial partners. And Iz, this is everyone.”

“You’re Stevie,” she said. “And . . . Janelle? And Vi. And Nate. Did I get it right?”

She had, in fact, identified them all correctly.

“David talks about you all the time,” she said. “Constantly. I’ve been so excited to meet you.”

Normally, if someone said this to Stevie, she would have thought they were being sarcastic, or at least overdoing things a bit. Izzy seemed to mean it. She had a bright, enthusiastic fizz about her, along with a vague air of apology. She was one of those people who, like Janelle, knew how to accessorize. She wore multiple stacked rings on her fingers—at least six—earrings that looked like little baskets of flowers, a purple-and-yellow silk scarf knotted around her neck. Janelle was clocking all of this with an approving look.

“We’re all set,” she said to David. “We’ve got the last one.”

She turned to the group and indicated they should step toward the boarding platform.

“A friend of the family works for the company that runs this,” Izzy explained. “The one perk I have is that I can get rides on the Eye for free whenever I want. I’ve even been on some rides after it’s closed for the day if they have a special occasion or are running maintenance. It’s great when there are people in town. It’s my party trick.”

If you watch enough British mystery shows—and Stevie had—London will seem familiar, even to those who have never been near it in person. She had seen the London Eye in this way many times, spinning in the background of Sherlock. She understood it was a massive Ferris wheel, illuminated in violet, right on the water’s edge. She let herself forget that she was not a fan of Ferris wheels, right up until the time that they were ushered quickly down a platform and into a pod that never stopped moving. Before she knew it, the compartment was sealed and Stevie and her friends were gliding up, up, up, the Thames chugging below them, the Houses of Parliament and London in general shrinking below them.

It was too dark to see details; night brought out the contours, the lines made by artificial light. You could see the circulatory system of London—the roads, the bridges, the moving cars—everything pulsing with energy. The smaller buildings became a dark mass of shadow, and the larger ones presented their outlines. This was a city of jagged spires, ancient towers, and modern glass skyscrapers that jutted into the distant skyline like knives. One was literally called the Shard.

The rain started falling in earnest, striking the pod, misting the glass, turning the view into streaks of light. As they rose, Izzy peppered them with questions about their trip. Had the flight been all right? How did they like their rooms? Were they tired? Were they having a good time—oh, of course they had just gotten here, they wouldn’t know if they were having a good time yet. She had long arms and graceful hands, which she swung about in wide, expressive gestures. She insisted on helping them take pictures—group shots, David and Stevie, at least a dozen of Vi and Janelle making out against the London Skyline. (“You may not be able to see the view much but the two of you look adorable.”) She seemed to have a deep desire to be around the group, to help them in any way, which was weird. There was nothing off about the way Izzy and David chatted—it was all casual, references to school and the student house. But Stevie couldn’t help but feel uneasy around this pleasant-smelling (she was wearing some kind of perfume that she identified as Jo Malone Orange Blossom when Janelle asked), friendly, accommodating stranger.