Oh my God.
All the blood drains out of my head. And suddenly I know. I know exactly why I was pulled into this game.
Beneath the table Ethan grips my hand. He knows too.
I look into his eyes. “Sam.”
“What do you mean?” Lyla says. “Did you know my sister? What’s going on?”
I shake my head, pulling my gaze from Ethan to Lyla. “I—I didn’t really know her.” I hesitate, looking at Ethan again.
“You have to tell her,” Ethan says.
“Tell me what?” Lyla says.
“Um. Sam. She—she started tutoring me last year,” I start. “After I’d been off sick for a while. She got really…intense. I’m sorry, Lyla. You don’t want to hear this….”
Lyla has wilted into the bench, her eyes suddenly bright. “It’s okay. I want to know what happened.”
“Are you sure? Because—”
“Please,” she says.
I take a deep breath. “Well, she was nice at first. I mean—she was always nice. That wasn’t the problem. And she was smart and really interesting, and she didn’t seem to have a lot of friends—”
“Hope. I want to know what happened.” Lyla looks up, implores me with her eyes. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and look away.
“We hung out a bit,” I start. “And then it kind of started to be weird. Like, too much, too soon, you know?”
Staring at me.
Showing up places I didn’t invite her to.
Calling me her best friend, even though we’d just met.
Wearing the same clothes as me.
Dyeing her hair ash blond.
I shiver.
“I tried to taper off contact with her, but then she got caught up in that fire in the library. I felt bad for her, but she got really mad at me about it. She said I told her I’d meet her there, but that’s not what I said. I said I might stop by.”
It’s not entirely true. I’d told her I might stop by, knowing full well she’d go. I just wanted her to leave me alone. To have a minute to breathe without her being right there.
I swallow, shift in my seat.
“Anyway, she cornered me by my locker one day and just freaked out—like, really yelled at me. Something about ruining her surprise for me. She apologized after, but the whole thing was just so weird, and it made me nervous. I told the principal what was going on, and he spoke with her. She left the school after that. I didn’t know…I had no idea she would have…”
Lyla stares at the saltshaker on the table.
“I’m sorry, Lyl.”
“I know. It’s okay,” Lyla says.
She looks so broken. I want to say something to make it better, but I can’t find any words. How do you apologize for something so big?
“It was an accident,” Farrah says. We turn to her.
“What was?” Ethan says.
“I was meeting Hartley in the study carrels in the library.”
My heart beats fast. I don’t dare budge in case it makes her change her mind about talking.
“She was helping me with an English paper. People think she isn’t smart, but she’s actually a writer. She’s written, like, four novels, and they’re really good.” She seems to realize her slipup. “I said I’d read them in exchange for her tutoring me.”
“What happened in the library?” I say, bringing the conversation back to the accident.
Farrah twists her lip gloss in her hands, digging a manicured fingernail into the grooves in the cap. “We’d go there because it was always empty and quiet and we could be alone. Or at least I thought we were alone. We got in a fight that day, and things started escalating. It was like she was trying to get me to blow my lid. You know how she gets. Anyway, I should have walked away, but I didn’t. Hartley lit up a cigarette just to piss me off, and I was trying to get her to put it out. Mrs. Ferrante came up to see what all the yelling was about, and I didn’t want her to think I was smoking too, so I yanked the cigarette out of Hartley’s mouth and threw it behind the curtains—you know the thick red curtains they used to have upstairs? So Ferrante accused us of smoking, we denied it, and then Ferrante couldn’t prove it, so we left. I guess the cigarette wasn’t out all the way, and the curtains caught on fire. Sam—she was asleep in one of the study carrels….”
It occurs to me suddenly why Hartley incessantly flicks at her lighter but never actually smokes.
“How come no one knows about this?” I ask.
Farrah ducks her head. “Because my dad made a settlement with her family and paid off the school. He didn’t want my name tied up in this with his campaign coming up. I know, it’s disgusting,” she says, and I realize Ethan is sneering at her. “But they didn’t have to worry about money anymore. It wasn’t a small chunk of change.” Farrah seems to realize she’s talking to Sam’s sister, and her face blazes crimson. “I’m sorry, Lyla. I—we didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.”