The Best Laid Plans(88)
“They went down to the dock,” she says, motioning with her cigarette.
“Thanks,” Hannah says, and we head in the direction she pointed.
The light shining from the windows of the Walcott makes it difficult to see anything beyond, but I can just make out the shape of the lake, spread out huge and dark in front of us. We walk across the grass and over to a set of steps leading down to a wooden dock. I can hear Ava and Danielle before I can see them, their voices high and shrill. We walk closer and their fuzzy dark outlines come into view.
Hannah holds out an arm to stop me. “We should let them fight it out. They have a lot to resolve.”
“Did you know it was Ava?”
Hannah sighs. “I didn’t know for sure, but I guessed.”
I don’t know why it never occurred to me. I was so fixated on the guys, so sure that these ugly words were from them. But Ryder doesn’t have the finesse or the subtlety for a pain like this one—when guys hurt you they want the credit. Girls are best at the cuts beneath the surface, the bites you don’t see coming until you’re dragged underwater. And Ava has been taking those bites from Danielle for too long—it was only a matter of time before she bit back. Still, it breaks my heart to see their friendship turned into something so ugly. Danielle and Ava were each other’s everything once, and now they’ve ended up like this. I can’t let that happen with Hannah.
“I’m sorry about Charlie. What I said.” Hannah has always supported me—has always been such a wonderful, beautiful friend. I need to be the same for her.
“You’re right though,” Hannah says. Her voice is shaky. “I know I shouldn’t, but . . . I still have feelings for him. He stopped by my house this morning and said he wanted to take me to prom and I just couldn’t say no. I’m so weak.”
“You’re not weak. You’re in love.”
“Sometimes I think it’s the same thing.”
And then because Hannah is being so honest, I know I have to be too. “Turns out you were right too. About Andrew.” Even though saying it makes me sad, Hannah’s face lights up like I’ve given her the best news. I guess I just need to let her be happy about it.
We stop at the edge of the dock, but Danielle and Ava don’t notice us.
Ava is crying, one hand waving angrily in the air, the other holding up her dress. “All I ever did was try to be your friend—for eight years—I tried so hard, and you just knocked me down.” Her voice is shaky with tears.
“My friend, Ava?” Danielle says. “If you had a problem with me, you should have told me. Real friends talk shit to your face and not behind your back.”
“Real friends don’t talk shit at all, Danielle. That’s what you don’t get. You’re so mean to me. All the time. You stopped being my friend years ago. You’ve just become such . . . such a bitch!”
“Oh, so I’m a bitch now too? Why don’t you write that on a note.” Danielle digs through her champagne-sequined purse and pulls out a pen, throwing it at Ava. “Let’s see . . . I’m a bitch, a slut, what next? Come on, Ava. There’s no way to win, is there? You’re a slut if you do, a tease if you almost do, a prude if you don’t, and a bitch if you stand up for yourself. I’m sick of the name-calling. We should have each other’s backs.”
Ava clicks her tongue against her teeth and laughs. “Seriously? You’ve been calling me a slut for years.”
Danielle crosses her arms. “I don’t use that word.”
Ava raises her voice in an impression of Danielle. “Oh, Ava, what do you know about being a virgin? Oh, Ava, are you gonna fuck Ryder again? Stop humping everything that moves, Ava. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself now.”
“I don’t care anymore.” Ava’s voice is strained, like she’s fighting to speak and breathe at the same time. “I just couldn’t get through to you. You don’t see me as your equal. I’m not just your stupid sidekick. Sometimes it’s my story. Not yours.”
“Oh please,” Danielle says. “Don’t martyr yourself. If you felt like a stupid sidekick, you could have done something about it.”
“I did!” Ava shrieks. “I wrote those freaking notes!”
“And how did you think that would change things? What, you thought calling me a slut would miraculously make things better for you? You’re just making guys like Ryder think they’re right. You don’t get power by knocking other girls down.”
Ava shrieks, a high animal sound, like someone has just stepped on her tail. “You’re such a hypocrite! That’s totally how you get your power. You’ve always gotten off on knocking me down. You’re like a social vampire.” She wipes at her cheeks. Her hair has come down from its chignon, and there are bobby pins sticking out at weird angles around the base of her neck. She starts yanking them out and throwing them onto the ground. “I like Chase. I’ve liked him for years. You knew that. But then suddenly you decided you had to have him, and that was more important. You slept with him at that stupid party, and you didn’t even like him! You dropped him right after you finally got what you wanted. How do you think that made me feel?”
Danielle sighed. “I didn’t . . . drop him because I was done with him. I dropped him because he was done with me. He fucked me and then told everybody about it! And then I’m supposed to wait around for him to tell me he’s done? Please don’t tell me all of this”—she motions back and forth between herself and Ava—“is about Chase, because he’s not worth it.”