The High Season(70)

“Ha, exactly. Jem was all friends with her, and now Meret is like doing the thing she does where she makes fun of her and everybody laughs. I swam with them one day, and Meret was totally being an asshole to Jem, and Jem was just taking it. And there’s all this groupchat drama about how Jem is going to lose her virginity this summer, only they call it ‘mayflower’ like some inside joke. The thing is…”

    Doe knew better than to ask what the thing was, because the answer would be Nothing or It’s stupid, and Annie would change the subject. She just put on an I’m curious but it’s cool if you don’t share kind of face.

“I feel bad for Jem. She dropped off all the threads, so I don’t think she knows how bad it is. Meret gets people to do things. It’s like hypnosis or something.”

“Probably more like fear. I mean,” Doe added, when Annie looked confused, “they’re afraid she’ll burn them.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Jem isn’t like Meret. There’s this guy, this older guy, who comes to Lawlors and buys one thing—just one thing, like a peach—and he waits until Jem is free. It’s so creepy. I’m just afraid I guess.”

“What’s the guy’s name?”

“Lucas somebody. We call him Mr. McManPants. I’m guessing he’s just playing with her. Except. I think he texts her, too. Meret knows because she’s psychic, or maybe she just guesses. She’s super jealous. It’s all, you know, material for her to punish Jem. She used to call me Rags in elementary school because she said I looked like Raggedy Ann? So I even called myself Rags, just because I wanted to own it, right?”

“That’s why you’re cool,” Doe said. She felt something winding inside her, tightening with every turn.

“Anyway we’re in high school, so we’ve all forgotten all that crap, but not Meret. She still calls me Rags! Especially if she sees me with a boy or something. Not that I’m ever with a boy. Then she pretends that we’re super-good friends and that’s why she has a pet name for me. That’s the kind of asshole she is.” Annie picked at the table. “Anyway. It’s just a pain to even be a bystander to all this stupid mean shit.”

“That’s the best summary of life I’ve ever heard,” Doe said.





42


JEM’S PHONE

    From: Jemma Dutton To: Lucas Clay Excited but nervous about Roberta’s party hope she doesn’t cancel because of storm …

can’t wait are we all driving together From: Lucas Clay To: Jemma Dutton Not going after all sounds boring I’ve got a party on SI From: Jem

To: Lucas

You said you were going From: Lucas To: Jem

Don’t you be boring too





43


    Hey I have a surprise for you

Guess where I am

where are you text me back angelpie xxo



“What’s that?” Lucas lifted her phone from Doe’s hand. It was one of the habits she wanted to kill him for. She lunged for it.

“You bitch!” Lucas tossed the phone back at her. “I think you scratched me.”

Why was she here? She knew they were done. Lark was in the city for “maintenance,” which meant hair and skin. A hurricane might be coming, or at least a bad storm. Hurricanes terrified her.

As a child Shari had always thrown hurricane parties, and Doe associated high winds with adults too drunk to put up the shutters and take in patio furniture. Once a chair had blown right through their window, shattering the glass and sending the adults screaming and stumbling away, some of them laughing in hiccuping shrieks. A giant of a man had stepped on Doe’s hand with a big callused bare foot. The pain was commensurate with the gross-out quality of the injury. The curved yellow toenail had caused her to wail uncontrollably. Shari had stuck her hand in the ice bucket.

    So when Lucas had texted her, saying Adeline was away and the house was his, she was tempted. She wouldn’t be alone.

Anxiously, she looked out at the wind-whipped bay. It was like a living thing, malevolent and liable to rear up and swamp her at any moment. She didn’t want to get trapped here. She had listened to Lucas robotically, idiotically, to ride out the storm. He had promised good wine; he had promised a binge watch of whatever she chose. He’d planned to be at a party on Shelter Island, but his friend Hale had been too “chickenshit” to pick him up by boat. The outdoor party had been canceled, anyway. It was typical of Lucas to tell her all this, letting her know that she was second or third choice. Yet she was here.

Lucas lay back on his elbows on the bed. “You are so mysterious with that phone.” He raised his eyebrows.

“We’re all mysterious with our phones,” Doe said. “That’s where our secrets are kept.”

Lucas laughed. “Word.”

“What would I find on yours?” Doe asked. “I bet your passcode is one-two-three-four or your birthday. Would I find out things you don’t want Adeline to know?”

“I don’t give a shit about Adeline.”

“If you hate her so much, why do you stay here?”

“Bad luck. I thought she’d be living with Mantis and I’d be crashing there on weekends. Instead she sticks me in bofuck Long Island.” He flipped through his texts.