Lies You Never Told Me(14)

“I’m just ready to have some fun,” she says. Her voice is low and almost silky. It sends a chill down my spine.

My heart is hammering, but I don’t want to make things worse. I stare out the window again, even though there’s nothing to watch but my own darkened reflection. We sit in silence for the rest of the drive.

Savannah’s house is perched on top of a hill with a sweeping view of downtown Austin.

Inside, the high-ceilinged marble entryway is packed. I see a few people I know, already jumping around to the thud of the music. Noah Delany and Paul Meyer wave at me from the sidelines, holding red Solo cups. Abhay Patel is busy at the DJ booth, adjusting his levels as he mixes Sia’s “Chandelier” with some ambient electronic dance number. No sign of Caleb or Irene yet, though I know they were planning to come.

No sign of Catherine, either. But then, she wouldn’t be at a party like this. I try not to let my disappointment show.

I turn to look at Sasha, only to see that Julia and Marjorie have already converged. They huddle together, whispering something and laughing. I take deep breaths, try to regain my composure, but a dull nausea tugs my stomach downward.

“Hey, Gabe.” Savannah’s appeared at my elbow. She’s wearing a tight silver dress that looks a lot like Sasha’s pale pink one.

“Savannah, you look great,” I say, giving her a hug.

“Thanks.” She flushes, pleased. “Can you believe how many people are here?”

“Hey, Savannah. Nice dress. Did you raid my closet?”

Sasha’s suddenly there in front of us, lips pressed in a smirk. To anyone who didn’t know her, her words would sound sincere. But her eyes glint at Savannah, and I instinctively let my arm drop from around Savannah’s shoulder.

Savannah tries a tinkling little laugh. I wince at how forced it sounds. “Thanks! Great minds.”

Sasha tosses her hair. “Sure. Something like that.”

Savannah wilts a little next to me. But then she squares her shoulders, as if steeling herself. “Come on, let’s dance.” She laces her arm through Sasha’s.

“Get me a beer, okay, babe?” Sasha’s grip on Savannah is tight. Behind them, a few of the other Mustang Sallys watch through narrowed eyes. All it will take is a word from Sasha to make them turn on Savannah.

It suddenly feels crazy to me, like Savannah’s sticking her hand in an alligator’s mouth. And then, with disgust, I realize I’m no different. We all act like we’re honored to let her treat us like shit.

I make my way through the crowds to the backyard, which is lit with Christmas lights strung through the posts in the wrought iron fence. A bunch of people gather around the keg on the patio. Half the wrestling team is in the kidney-shaped pool with their girlfriends, chicken fighting. Natalie McAfee already has her top off. She falls off Mike Bookout’s shoulders with a squeal and a splash. A little further back there’s a bonfire pit. I see Caleb and Irene in the group gathered around.

Caleb’s roasting a marshmallow over the flames, turning it slowly back and forth for an even golden brown. Irene’s got a charred-looking s’more in one hand, a joint in the other.

“Double-fisted partying. Nice,” I say. I grab the joint from her and take a drag. The smoke washes over my nerves, smoothing out the tangles.

“You look like hell,” Irene says. “What’s up?”

“Sasha’s in a mood.” I take a deep breath. The heat of the flames laps against my skin. “She drove out here like a fucking maniac. Now she’s in there torturing the other Sallys or something. I’ve got to take her a beer in a second.”

“Is it my imagination, or is she more psycho than usual?” Irene frowns.

I shrug. “She’s pissed that Savannah’s having the first big party of the year, I think. It’s usually at her house, but her parents have her on a short leash since the whole security camera thing.”

“Did you hear she managed to get Tori Spencer kicked off the Sallys? She basically accused Tori of bullying her.” Irene pops the last of her s’more into her mouth. “Which doesn’t sound like Tori. It sounds like Sasha.” Her words are muffled through the marshmallow.

I grimace. “Yeah. She’s been laughing about it.” Tori was trying to change one of their routines, which meant that Sasha’s solo got cut. She went crying to their coach with some crazy story about Tori sabotaging her costume before a game.

Irene shakes her head. “Jesus, what’s it gonna take for you to break up with her?”

I don’t answer right away. The truth is, I don’t know how to answer. Because Irene’s right. Sasha’s appeal has worn thin. I don’t know if it’s that Sasha’s gotten more unstable, or if I’m finally just seeing it for what it is—not some wild, free-spirited energy but something dark and bottomless and boiling. Something with the power to destroy.

That’s when Devon Lord, who’s standing on the other side of Irene, speaks up, startling all three of us.

“Man, sorry to slide into your conversation like a creep, but it’s crazy that you gave Sasha that ring.”

Irene, Caleb, and I turn to stare at him.

“What ring?” I ask.

Devon pulls his marshmallow out of the pit. It’s a perfect golden brown, even on all sides. He blows on it for a moment, then slides it onto a graham cracker. “That promise ring, or whatever? I don’t know, it looked like a big honking diamond.”