Choker (9 page)

“Yeah, but that girl was a freakin’ Amazon,” Sarit countered. “We couldn’t believe you had to go up against her. I swear she was either, like, twenty-five or on steroids.” She pulled a bottle of iced tea from the cooler, and they walked toward the table. The other track girls were already seated, unwrapping their sandwiches and prying open Tupperwares. Julie had nothing in front of her except a giant-size Butterfinger. “New diet, Jules?” Sarit raised a dark eyebrow.

Cara had almost reached the table when someone bumped her shoulder hard and mumbled, “Oops.” Cara stumbled for-ward, just managing to hang on to her tray. She turned around. It was Alexis, with Ethan by her side. Cara’s stomach dropped, but Alexis barely seemed to recognize her. She just kept walking in a vague, unfocused sort of way, trailing the strong scent of coconut.

“Sorry, Cara,” Ethan apologized. He hurried after Alexis, who had pulled out the chair at her usual table. She tried to sit down but only caught the edge of the seat, ending up in a messy heap on the floor.

“Ooh,” Alexis moaned. “Shit.”

Cara’s eyes widened. She watched Ethan haul Alexis to her feet.

“Why don’t you get Jack to carry you around?” Ethan growled. She tried to shove him, but he deposited her in the chair. She mumbled something indistinguishable and took a sip from a water bottle she was clutching.

“Oh my God,” Sarit said. “Did you smell her?”

Cara nodded. “Yeah, like coconut.” She set her tray down and took a seat next to Julie.

Sarit shook her head. “Like booze! She reeks of Malibu.” She unwrapped her dosa and took a bite. It smelled delicious, like potatoes and onions.

“We were sitting in American history, and all of a sudden, she just burst out in tears,” Madeline said, spooning some mandarin oranges into her mouth. “Everyone just sat there until Mrs. Bolton told her to go wash her face.”

Julie finally unwrapped her Butterfinger lunch and took a huge bite. “Basically, she’s just been acting nuts ever since Sydney died,” she said, blowing a shower of orange crumbs all over the table. “Sorry.” She swallowed with difficulty. “She’s going over the edge.”

“Just like Sydney did,” Sarit said. “I can’t believe she just fell in the pool like that. Maybe she hit her head.”

“Maybe she dove in,” Madeline suggested. “Like remember that video they showed us in eighth grade with that guy diving into a pool and breaking his neck?”

Rachael shuddered. “The whole thing is so creepy and gross.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Cara bit into her peanut butter sandwich and thought of what her mother said the other day, about the police still investigating the case.
Investigating
. . . But a drunk girl drowning in her own pool hardly seemed worthy of a
Law & Order
episode.

Sarit nodded over toward Alexis’s table, interrupting Cara’s thoughts. “It’s honestly just so sad. I mean, can you imagine if your best friend just up and
died
?”

Cara suddenly pictured finding Zoe dead, face down in a pool. Her throat almost closed up just thinking about it.

Her eyes slid over to Alexis’s table. Alexis’s head was cradled in her arms, and there wasn’t any food in front of her, just the water bottle. Ethan was bent close, rubbing her back and talking to her softly. A strange feeling rushed over Cara, and it took a moment for her to identify it.
Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually feeling
sorry
for Alexis Henning.

Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, Ethan looked over. Their eyes met. He gave her a sad little smile and nodded toward Alexis. Cara nodded back. She tuned back into the conversation around her. The girls were speculating on Coach Sanders’s social life. Cara smiled and nodded at the right times. As soon as she got home, she’d tell Zoe about this—how they all just talked, like real friends. Cara finished her peanut butter sandwich and carefully brushed her new hair behind her ears. Her throat felt layered with sticky peanut butter. She took a swig from her water bottle. Actually, maybe she wouldn’t tell Zoe. Zoe always got a little jealous whenever she thought Cara was replacing her. Cara swallowed again and again, but she couldn’t get rid of the peanut butter coating her throat. It was choking her all over again.

Briefly, panic rose in her belly, but she fought it back and forced herself to drink the rest of her water. At last, the peanut butter washed away.

No, she decided, it was better not to tell Zoe. She wouldn’t understand.

Chapter 10

“Z
OE?” CARA CALLED, CRACKING OPEN THE DOOR OF HER
bedroom after school. She was panting a little from her sprint home after the final bell. She couldn’t wait to tell Zoe about her encounter with Ethan in the training room. “Zo?” The curtains were drawn against the gray afternoon, leaving the room in half-shadows. Cara softly shut the door behind her.

The room was deserted, the bed tumbled with sheets and sprawling pillows. A stack of magazines sat on the floor near the nightstand, along with an empty plate. Cara’s heart started beating a little faster. “Zoe?” She looked around. Then, in an instant, she knew, just
knew
, that this was the end. Zoe had left, gone who knows where, leaving her to face her life alone. Her breath whistled through her nostrils.

She heard a clink from the bathroom and rushed over to the door. Zoe was there, standing at the counter, carefully applying mascara. The rest of Cara’s makeup—most of which was years old—was spread out in front of her. Zoe looked around. “Oh, hi,” she said without smiling.

Cara sagged against the doorjamb, then made her way into the bathroom, where she collapsed on the closed lid of the toilet. “Oh my God, you scared me half to death! I thought you were gone.”

Zoe applied a coral lipstick. “Nope,” she replied, snapping the case closed sharply. “Still here.” She bit the words off sharply, as if spitting out orange seeds.

“Well, don’t do that again,” Cara said. She took a deep breath and her heart slowed to its normal rhythm. “Anyway, you’ll never believe what happened this morning—actually, this afternoon, too, but really this morning. Remember how I went in early to stretch? It was boiling in that room, so I—”

Zoe shoved the lipstick back in Cara’s flowered makeup bag and whirled around. Her eyes were spidery with mascara. Her coral lips gleamed stickily. “Yeah, that’s great, Car. I’m glad everything’s going better at school, but you know, you might want to think about someone other than yourself for just one tiny second, okay?” She pushed past Cara into the bedroom.

“What are you talking about?” Cara stood uncertainly in the doorway. Zoe flung open her closet door and was rapidly sorting through the clothes.

“I
mean
ever since I got here, it’s been Cara this and Cara that, and boo-hoo, my life is so awful, and Zoe, will you help me?” Her voice was hard. Zoe pulled out a short red dress with the tags still attached. “And I
have
helped you, even though you’re oblivious.”

“Zo, I’m sorry.” Cara reached out to her friend, tears already pricking beneath her eyes. God, how could she have been so selfish? After everything Zoe had gone through with her stepdad, this was the last place she should feel neglected.

Cara tried to put her arms around Zoe, but she drew away. Dropping her sweatpants to the floor, Zoe pulled the red dress over her head. Fear clutched at Cara’s heart. There was nothing worse than having Zoe mad at her. It was the one thing she couldn’t stand.

“You’re right,” Cara pleaded. “I’ve been so wrapped up in all my little problems, I haven’t been thinking about you.” She placed a tentative hand on her friend’s back. This time, Zoe didn’t move. “Can I do anything to make it up to you?”

Zoe whirled around and looked Cara in the face. “I want to go out.”

Cara took a step back. “What? No! Zo, you can’t. It’s way too dangerous.” She looked around the room. “Do you want some different food? I can go out and get us anything. Or a movie? Or . . . some books?”

“No.” Zoe’s face was dark. “I’m sick of being cooped up in here. Either you come with me or I’m going by myself. But I’m going out. You can’t stop me, you know, Cara.” She moved toward the door.

“Zoe, wait!” Cara clutched at her arm. “Your parents are probably looking for you. They might have even called the police. Please! I’d die if they took you away.” Hysterical tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her. Cara’s body shook at the thought of losing her friend again. Her face must have shown her anguish because Zoe’s arm relaxed under Cara’s hand.

“I’d die if they took me away too,” she said. Slowly, she sank down on the bed.

Cara took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay,” she said carefully. “Just wait one second.” She pulled two pairs of boots from the closet. “I’ve got the perfect solution.”

Ten minutes later, they were tramping across an overgrown meadow behind Cara’s house, rain jackets open against the light drizzle, the goldenrod brushing their calves above the boots. Zoe still wore the red dress, now damp with rain. She looked doubtful. “Cara, this isn’t really what I had in mind.” She glanced up at the gray sky.

Cara grabbed her hand and tugged. “Come on!” she said. “It’s only across that next field.” She pointed to a dark smudge of trees in the distance. “See that? It’s in those woods.”

“Where are we anyway?” Zoe pushed aside a tall clump of grass.

“Just an old farm,” Cara said. “All these fields are overgrown. No one comes around here anymore. I think the guy who owns it checks in maybe once a year. But otherwise, it’s just sitting here.” The woods loomed in front of them. Cara pulled Zoe in among the rough trunks of the pine trees. “There.” She stopped.

“Oh, wow.” Zoe breathed. They were standing in front of a decaying barn. The boards that made up the walls were rotten at the bottom and broken off like jagged teeth. In a few places, peeling red paint was still visible, but the rest of the barn was a weathered silver gray. The roof sagged dangerously, almost swaybacked. A row of glassless windows gaped from the side like pits. “What is this place?”

Cara tugged at one of the big doors at the front. It slid open reluctantly, screeching on its rusted rails. She stepped into the dank, musty interior. “It’s my hideout. I just like to come down here sometimes to chill, read, you know, just get away from things.” She gestured around her. The dust motes floated cheerfully in the air when it was sunny out, but today, the leaden sky pressed at the cracks in the walls. A steady
drip-drip
came from somewhere in the back.

On either side of them, old stalls had once held horses and perhaps a cow, but now the partitions were rotted, and some had crashed over entirely. Ancient straw reeking of mold was still spread on the floor. Here and there, rusted pieces of farm machinery sat like remnants of the Inquisition. A crude set of steps in the corner led to an open hayloft, which spread across the top half of the barn. Zoe looked up to the dizzying rafters, soaring fifty feet above them. A window was at each end, but no barn swallows soared in and out today.

Cara led Zoe to the farthest stall, where a rough gray blanket had been patted into a sort of nest. “Here’s where I hang out,” she said. “I’ve got a flashlight, a water bottle, a cushion. And . . .” She reached into a corner and pulled a cellophane bag out with a flourish. “Tortilla chips! I left them last time I was here.”

Zoe smiled. “It would’ve been so fun to have a place like this when we were growing up.” She sank down on the blanket and pulled open the bag of chips. Her dress was riding up on her legs, showing her grayish underwear, but Zoe didn’t seem to care.

“I know! Remember all that time we spent behind your house?” Cara sat down.

“Making fairy nests?” Zoe grinned.

“Frog nests,” Cara corrected her.

“Right, frog nests!” They both laughed. Cara remembered the loamy, sour smell of the dirt and the way the stiff honeysuckle branches would poke her in the legs and back. She remembered the big brown bottles scattered in the dirt, “Colt 45” on the faded labels. She hadn’t known what they were back then. “Colt” was like a horse, but why would someone name a drink after a horse?

“Remember when we found that old beer?” Cara asked Zoe. “And you drank some. I thought you were so bad!”

Zoe nodded. “I was such a messed-up little kid.” She shook her head, smiling a little.

“Not like anything’s changed!” Cara poked her friend playfully in the stomach. Zoe’s face darkened and instantly, Cara knew that had been a mistake. Zoe’s mouth tightened. She scraped intently at the dirt floor with a stick while Cara waited tensely. For her punishment. No—that just jumped into her head. Zoe was her friend. They could tease each other, just like they always had.

Zoe threw the stick down and, as if she’d come to a decision, rearranged herself on the blanket so she was facing Cara.

“So, what happened with Ethan this morning?” Her voice was friendly and relaxed. The tension of the previous moment was gone.

Cara exhaled. “Well,” she said, wiggling into the proper position for a good talk. “I was in the training room, like I said, stretching out, and I’d taken off my shirt because it was so hot.” She described Ethan’s face when he came in, and how he blushed, and then she blushed. “And we actually, like,
talked
, for maybe five minutes. And he said I was funny. I think guys really like that in a girl, don’t you think?”

Zoe nodded. “Totally. That’s usually one of the things they say is most important. That and big boobs.” She stuffed another chip in her mouth.

Cara rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ve got one out of two.” She thought of the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. Unable to sit still all of a sudden, she jumped up from the blanket and cruised the perimeter of the stall, tracing the splintery old wood with her fingers. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’ll never be with me—he’s got Alexis.”

She turned around. Zoe was watching her. She seemed to be considering something. “Do you think he’d go out with you if she wasn’t in the picture?”

“Like if they broke up for real?” Cara snorted. “Zo, first of all, that’ll never happen. They’ve been together since freshman year, and they break up all the time, but it never sticks. Second, Ethan’s never going to make a move on me because I’m
me.
I mean, look at this.” She spread her arms, indicating her stained navy hoodie and baggy, faded jeans.