First We Were IV

Instead Graham was up, offering Viv a hand. They were standing chest to chest before I knew it. Harry raised his dark eyebrows at me. I shook my head. Graham was holding Viv’s bare waist. His fingers were resting where her lower back connected to her butt. Graham was touching Viv’s butt. I let a hysterical giggle rip free.

Viv tilted her chin, parted her lips, and her eyelashes fluttered shut. An expert kisser. That’s all I saw because Graham’s giant head closed in on her delicate face.

I closed my eyes and held my head. “I think I’m hallucinating. Viv . . .” She had had more kisses than Graham. At drama camp, during those all-night games of spin the bottle and truth or dare, Viv had probably kissed more girls than Graham ever had. The two of them were kissing.

I dropped my hands. The bonfire gobbled up the last sticks. I was sweating but cold. I wormed closer to the fire. Still cold. My stomach contracted for food. The kiss ended. I can’t say who pulled away first because I was staring at Harry, whose expression was bewildered. Pleasantly, though. Not the twisted-up puzzlement I felt on my face.

Viv’s fingers fitted with mine. I was skidding forward in time. A few seconds here and there. The apple trees swayed overhead. When did we clamber off the rock? Viv’s lips were red and bitten and I wondered if it was because of Graham.

Viv and I were dancing and then we were pinkie swearing. So serious about a topic that gave way to laughter. We were holding each other tight enough that it should have hurt. Our cheeks pressed together. Viv whispered, “Top secret . . . always wanted to kiss him.” I nodded solemnly like I shared the same secret desire of wanting to kiss Graham, when I already had kissed him, three years earlier, and never dreamed of repeating it. But no—it wasn’t the time to tell Viv about that kiss.

One of the boys took up howling again. The other was on the rock dousing the fire. The eclipse had ended. The moon was white and watchful once more.

Too late. It had missed everything.





12


Our bodies blasted through the orchard. I careened off course. Viv caught my arm. Then we were at the pool, midflight, loose cannonballs smacking the deep end. Messy, explosive splashes.

I surfaced and shouted, a spray of water from my mouth, “Ina and Scott will hear.”

Viv’s rivaling yell, “They’re in Santa Barbara.”

“I knew that.” My words turned to bubbles underwater.

Harry had gone inside in search of food. Graham was heavy-lidded watching us splash from the diving board.

“When I have my first starring credit and I buy my McMansion, I’m going to have a pool with a lazy river and rapids,” Viv said breezily.

I crawled up the deep end’s ladder and drew in a pool recliner with my toe.

“Don’t crack your head open,” Graham called as I teetered above the cement before sliding onto the inflatable. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“And I’m going to have a squad of hot pool boys that service my lazy river.” She paused to giggle into her hand. “And I’ll have one of those cabana poolside tiki bars. And you guys know I’ve always wanted a giant trampoline.”

“A giant trampoline?” Graham said. “That’s not dreaming big, Vivy. You’ll need one of those skydiving simulation rooms if you ever want me to come visit and kiss you again.”

“You’re making me lose my appetite,” Harry said on the deck, a plate of hot dogs in one hand and barbecue tongs in the other.

“Tofu?” Viv asked. She was also on a pool inflatable, her favorite, in the shape of a unicorn, her head resting against the back of its head, its horn appearing to rise up from her crown. She had one thin wrist in the water, gently circling.

“Yes, your majesty, the phony meat will be grilled to a char just the way you like it,” Harry said.

We ate like that, chlorine-puckered fingers stuffing food into our mouths, stomachs cramped with giant bites. We found room for ice cream afterward.

The newly full moon lowered. Graham had gone to the barn for sleeping bags but hadn’t returned. Viv fell asleep in a deck chair, snoring lightly in intervals. Harry and I treaded water.

The pool lights were sunken midday suns. Harry floated in their glow. I’d noticed his boxers were see-through when wet twenty minutes earlier as he backflipped from the diving board. My chest was flushed and my eyes practically ached from not peeking again.

“Are you weirded out that I’m a lawn gnome–fondling deviant?” he asked, brushing one of the inflatables away as it floated slowly and steadily at him.

“I always suspected you had a seedy underbelly.”

He paddled in a tight circle. My legs were tired and I let myself slip under before kicking up. When I paid attention again, Harry was closer. “I can’t get what Denton said about Goldilocks out of my head. He didn’t even try, did he?” Harry said.

I shook my head. “No. She wasn’t worth investigating. To him.”

“My mom started talking about it after my dad was attacked. Stuff like, ‘Look what they get away with in Seven Hills.’?”

“They?”

He shook the hair from his eyes. “Guys, I guess. Rich ones, since this is Seven Hills.”

“All that Rags and Riches crap—Amanda and Conner are worthless. You know that, right?”

The grim line of his mouth softened. “I know you’re smart, Izzie. I know I’m going to miss hearing what you think after you move for college.”

I flicked water his way. “We’re going to text every day.”

“Shake on it?” He extended a hand. I took it. Two shakes and our joined hands sunk under the water. I had to let go to keep treading, otherwise I would have held on longer.

I glanced over to Viv, pale and motionless. Something in the way she was positioned on the lounger brought me back to Goldilocks. The way she looked when I found her. An abrupt ache filled me. “I can’t get how Goldilocks was posed out of my head. Arms and T-shirt and rocks forming wings. Just like the birds the scientists dug up. Wings and birds and girls, they’re always here,” I said, tapping my forehead. “That was the point, huh? On Goldilocks’s walk from the tunnel to the gas station, she encountered the guy who killed her. He hit her with his car. Accidentally or on purpose. Finished her with his hands. Definitely on purpose. Then he needed to get rid of her. He thought fast. Settled on the creepy rock, mystery surrounding it. Put her there. Gave her wings. Made it look convincing. Mysterious. Connected to the weirdo rock. Confused people. Made it look like the farthest thing from what it really was.”

“What was it?”

“A plain old murder. Violent. Guy killing girl. It’s usually guys.”

“No ritual murder?” Harry asked.

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