The girl, tiny and blond, was standing beside his car. He was almost upon her before he recognized her. What was her name again? “Hey, Jeff,” she said.
“Hey.” Her presence confused and unnerved him. “Uh . . . Hannah’s not with me. She’s probably at home.”
“I wanted to talk to you.” She indicated the car. “Can we sit?”
He took a step toward the Tesla and its door handles obediently popped out. It was odd to invite this kid into his car, but it was even odder that she was there to see him. At a loss, he watched her move to the passenger side of the car and get in. He felt a swell of relief; he really didn’t want anyone to see them together. He hopped in and shut his door.
“What’s going on”—Lauren. That was her name. He added it to the end of his question—“Lauren?”
“I hear you’re being sued by Ronni’s mom.”
“How do you know about that?”
“My stepmom. She’s sort of friends with Lisa Monroe now.”
Jeff let out a breath through his lips. “Yeah. Unfortunately, we are.”
“My dad says that the lawyers might want to interview me. Like as a witness.”
“Well, we’re a long way from that,” Jeff said, though he really had no idea if they were.
“It must blow to get sued by your friend.”
He had to chuckle. “It does.”
A bug was splattered on the passenger side of the front windshield, something large and spindly: a crane fly maybe? Lauren reached out and touched the glass where the bug’s guts, yellow and red, smeared the other side of the pane. She scratched at it with her deep purple nails, like she’d be able to scrape the mess off from the inside. Was there something wrong with this kid? Was she high? Brain-damaged? Jeff waited. What the hell did this girl want?
“What do you want, Lauren?”
She looked up at him then. Her eyes were gray; her lids sparkled; her lashes were caked with navy-blue goop. When Hannah wore that much makeup, Kim sent her back to her room. But Lauren’s parents were obviously more lenient.
“I want to know what you want me to say.”
“To whom?”
“To the lawyers or whoever—I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”
His heart softened. She was a good kid underneath the cool facade. “Kim and I have been cleared by the police. We won’t be in any trouble. . . .” He gave her hand a friendly pat. “We’ll wait until Ronni’s mom calms down and talk about this rationally. I’m sure she’ll see sense.”
Lauren stared at him intently for a beat. There was no denying she was a pretty kid under all that goop. “What if I told them about the champagne you gave us?”
Jeff’s jaw clenched. Seriously? Now this teenager was trying to shake him down? “What are you getting at?”
“Would you get into trouble? Would you have to pay Ronni’s mom tons of money?”
There was something taunting in her tone, and Jeff wasn’t going to stand for it. “Do you want money, too?” His voice was menacing, a growl. “How much?” He dug for his wallet still in his pants pocket.
“No!” She pressed his arm to stop him. “I don’t want your money.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
She picked up one of his business cards that he’d carelessly tossed into the console of the car, and played with it. “I won’t tell anyone about the champagne,” she said, looking up at him then. “And I’ll make sure the other girls don’t say anything, either. . . .”
Was he supposed to be grateful now? He didn’t know how to respond, so he gave a slight nod.
Lauren gave him a small smile. “Can we go get some food or something?”
“No. We can’t.”
She looked down at the business card again, her long hair obscuring her face as she traced his name with her finger. “I just feel really alone right now. My best friend’s in the hospital. My dad’s away on business. My mom drinks. . . .” When she finally looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “Can we get some ice cream at least?”
He felt his heart twist. He knew this type of girl: conniving, manipulative, and growing up way too fast. But there was something so lonely in her gray eyes that he couldn’t help but pity her.
“Ice cream,” he said. “And then I’m taking you home.”
lisa
FOURTEEN DAYS AFTER
Lisa hovered near the kitchen counter, observing. Ronni was on the sofa, a blanket over her legs, her eyes glued to the TV. Make that her eye—Jesus. She was watching Netflix, some show about teenagers and vampires. She appeared engrossed and, if Lisa hadn’t known better, perfectly content. Hoisting the plate and bowl that rested on the Formica countertop, Lisa made her move.
“Snack time,” she said, heading to the sofa. Ronni didn’t respond, so Lisa set the bowl of hummus and side plate of raw veggies on the coffee table. “You have to eat something, hon.”
“I’m not hungry,” Ronni mumbled.
“You’ve barely eaten since you got home. You need to get your strength back.”
“Why?” For the first time, her daughter looked away from the TV. Lisa still wasn’t used to Ronni’s gaze: the left eye looked right into her soul but the right eye remained still and unseeing. The doctors had done their best to repair the socket, but part of the bottom lid had been unsalvageable. To compensate, they had pulled the skin tight, creating a thin, nearly translucent web at the corner of her eye. There was something embryonic about it, something not quite right. The eye surgeon had tried to reassure them. “Ocular prostheses have come a long way,” he’d said. “She’s lucky.” But Ronni didn’t feel lucky. And when Lisa looked at her beautiful daughter and her discomfiting stare, she didn’t feel lucky, either.
Lisa forced a smile. “You need to get back to school. Get back into your old routine.”
Ronni turned back to the vampires. “No way. I can’t go back there.”
“Honey . . .” Lisa grabbed the remote and paused the show. “Of course you can. You need to learn and be with your friends and have a normal life.”
“My friends?” Ronni said, and her eyes filled. (Lisa had quickly learned that a glass eye still allowed tear flow.) “I don’t have any friends anymore.”
Lisa thought about Hannah showing up at the hospital the day after the accident. “I just want to see her, to let her know that I’m here for her,” Hannah had said. She’d been upset, on the verge of tears. But Lisa couldn’t let that friendship stand, not with everything that was going on. She patted her daughter’s leg. “Of course you do. . . .”
“I haven’t heard from anyone! I’ve had like one text from Lauren. She’s supposed to be my best friend.”
“If she was really your best friend, she’d be there for you.”
“She says her parents don’t want her caught up in all this mess.” She wiped at the tears streaming down her face. “So I’m a mess now.”
Lisa grabbed Ronni’s hand and kissed the tears off it. “It’s not you, honey. You’re not the mess.”
“I’m a freak! And a monster!”
“No, baby. You’re a beautiful girl. Lauren’s dad’s talking about the”—the words were tumbling out before she could stop them—“lawsuit.”