Lessons from a Dead Girl(37)

I hear her words again. He did to me what I did to you.

“You’re just like Sam,” I say. “You’re worse than Sam.”

“What?”

“You’re no better than Sam!” I yell the words in her face.

“How could you say that?” She looks like she wants to kill me.

“You knew what you were doing! You just said you were getting rid of what he did to you by doing it to me. How sick does that make you, Leah?”

I feel the anger swelling up so fast I want to scream. All those years of her making me feel like I was the one who should be ashamed.

“Don’t get all holy on me, Lainey. Don’t you dare turn this back on me. You’re no saint.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I’m holding my hands in fists so tightly, my fingernails dig into my palms.

“It means you could have done more,” Leah says. “That day at the beach with Paige, you were so hell-bent to save her. But what about me? You never wanted to f*cking help me!”

A tear slips down her own cheek before she turns away from me. “That’s pretty sick, Laine,” she says without turning back. “Don’t you think?”

All at once my stomach convulses, and I run to the edge of the gazebo and throw up over the side.

When I finish, I turn back to face her.

“Why me?” I ask her. I give up on wiping my eyes. I don’t care anymore if she sees me cry. “Why did you choose me?”

“Why me?” she says back. “Why Brooke?” She looks away again and dries her eyes with the palms of her hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I say. “I could have helped you. I would have helped you! We could have stopped him! Instead you — you tortured me with it.”

She shakes her head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

She looks at me carefully, and I force myself not to look away.

“I would have helped you,” I say. “You know that.”

But she just shakes her head again. “I’m out of here.”

“No,” I say. “Answer me!”

“You don’t want to know, Lainey. Trust me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then figure it out.”

“How?!”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” she asks quietly. Her tears are gone now. She looks like she wants to kill me, she hates me so much. “The truth, Lainey. You tell me the truth. You liked it. That’s why. We both f*cking liked it. We hated it, and we still wanted it. If you can’t say the words out loud, I’ll say them for you.”

But before I can say anything, she steps into the dark and disappears.





The gazebo is quiet. I slide myself onto the cold, wooden floor and curl back into a ball.

You liked it. We both f*cking liked it.

I squeeze my eyes closed and try to shut out her words by concentrating on the party noises in the distance. They sound like the hum of a TV when you’re not watching.

The hard floor makes my head ache more than it did before, but I don’t get up. I don’t move. I feel all the ugliness and shame I’ve bottled up pour over me and cover me like a blanket.

Leah used me. She picked me because somehow she knew I would keep her secrets. Somehow she knew I would do whatever she wanted. She knew I wouldn’t stop her. Somehow she knew… . She knew part of me would like it.

“Laine? Is that you?”

Web’s warm hand presses against my shoulder and shakes me. I don’t move. I don’t want him to see me.

“Lainey? Jesus, are you OK?”

I cover my face with my hands.

“What’s going on?” Jess comes around the other side and pulls my hands away.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

I’m crying again. I sit up and look at them. Their innocent faces. How can I tell them the truth?

I wipe my face with my shirt. “Just drank too much,” I say, trying to smile.

Web makes a face like he doesn’t believe me. “Why are you crying?”

I shrug. “I have no idea!” I force a laugh. “Guess I just got kind of emotional about our last party.”

Jess sits down next to me. “I saw Leah come in the back door, Lainey. Was she hassling you again?”

My hands are shaking. I pull my knees back to my chest and hug them to keep myself still. “Nah,” I say, careful not to meet their eyes.

“Web, I peed in your mother’s flowers,” I say, trying to change the subject.

“Cool.” He smiles that way he does, then puts his hand on my knee. “You sure you’re OK?”

Tell him the truth, I think. Just tell him. I open my mouth. I don’t know where I’ll start, but if I can just say something, anything —

There’s a shriek from inside the house and then a bunch of cheers.

“Shit, this is a crazy party,” Web says, forgetting his question.

“Good thing it’s the last one.” Jess leans her head against mine.

“Let’s go back in,” Web says. “It’s too cold out here.” He holds his hands out to us and pulls us up.

“I hope you saved your bed for us, ’cause I need to pass out,” Jess says.