Pretty Little Devils (21 page)

“M
egan, Megan!” Hazel yelled, shaking her by the shoulders. The hood of the sweatshirt fell away. Megan's neck was marked with deep purple bruises.

“She's been strangled!” Carolyn exclaimed.

Both girls were suddenly startled by a loud cry. They whirled around to see Ellen, one hand covering her mouth, the other shakily clutching her car keys, tears gushing out of her eyes.

“No, please, no,” Ellen whimpered.

“Ellen!” Hazel said.

Ellen let out another sob and then tried to wipe her tears away. “Oh my God. Is she dead?”

Hazel's mind raced. Did Sylvia overhear us planning to go to the police? Or did someone tell her about it?

Just then her phone let out a sharp beep. Hazel cautiously pulled the phone out of her bag. New text message.

YRSECRETPAL2PURPLEHAZE: Tattletales. Careful who u talk 2. U might end up like her.

 

“Hello?” Hazel said hesitantly into the phone.

“Hazel,” Sylvia said. “I've been trying to reach you ever since I heard.” Her voice sounded hoarse, like she'd been crying.

“Since you heard?” Hazel said slowly.

“Since I heard about Megan. I still can't believe it,” Sylvia said. “How could this have happened, Hazel? What was she even doing there?”

“I don't know,” Hazel replied. “None of us know. That's what we told the police, Sylvia. We don't know how it happened.”

“I'm so devastated, Hazel,” Sylvia went on. “The funeral is Saturday and I'm not going to school for the rest of the week. I just can't.”

“Yes. It's awful. An awful shock,” Hazel said stiffly.

 

The funeral was horrible.

The smell of incense and dying flowers made Hazel's throat close up. Her eyes began to water.

There were huge arrangements everywhere. The church was freezing, which was surprising, given that it was overflowing with high school students.

Megan's casket was closed, and Hazel tried hard not to imagine her lying inside that box—all cut up from the autopsy, filled with embalming fluid, and held together with big stitches.

She thought of Brandon then and tried even harder not to picture what his body must look like, two weeks later.

The girls hadn't let on about Sylvia to anyone. The police had riddled them with questions when they showed them Megan's body, but the PLDs all remained silent. Partly because of their shock—and partly because they weren't sure what Sylvia would do if they implicated her.

The chubby, weak-chinned priest droned on, talking about what a wonderful girl Megan had been, what promise her young life had shown.

“But God in his infinite wisdom saw fit to take her to his kingdom,” he declared.

Sylvia let out a pained sob. She'd been in tears for the entire service. The other PLDs sat beside her in stony, fearful silence. If Hazel hadn't been so stunned by fear, she would have been disgusted by the irony.

 

Finally, they packed into cars and drove to the cemetery. As Hazel watched Megan's casket being lowered into the ground—secreted away—she finally did break down. Her mother squeezed her shoulder and Hazel only cried harder.

Then there was a reception at Megan's home. The house was filled with morose, darkly clothed adults, clutching glasses of wine and huddling in small groups, sharing dismayed whispers.
How could something like this happen in Brookhaven?

Hazel's parents stayed only a few minutes. They took Corey home after she assured them she'd get a ride. Hazel gritted her teeth as she watched Sylvia approach Megan's mother. She gave her a long embrace, brushing more tears out of her eyes as they separated.

Crocodile tears
, Hazel thought.

It was clear that Megan's room was off-limits, so the PLDs gathered in the rec room. There were just as many reminders of Megan there—her collection of horror movies sat on the shelf by the television and photo-booth pictures of her, Sylvia, Ellen, and Carolyn from fifth grade were pinned to a bulletin board.

Carolyn had smuggled a bottle of wine down there. They sat on the floor around the coffee table and passed the bottle. Hazel took tiny sips; her stomach was clenched with anxiety and the wine tasted bitter to her. The others were gulping it down and getting wasted fast.

Hazel's heart was pounding. Sylvia had killed Megan. She was coldhearted. Ruthless. She'd had too much power for too long.

I am sitting with a murderer,
Hazel thought over and over.

“I'm going to miss her so much,” Sylvia whimpered, reaching for Carolyn's hand.

“You don't need to say that,” Carolyn said sharply, pulling her hand away.

“Carolyn, what's wrong with you?” Sylvia demanded.

“You didn't give a crap about her,” Ellen blurted. Hazel was surprised. It seemed like Ellen hadn't recovered from her stunned daze since the Brandon incident.

“You loved to torture her,” Ellen went on. “You wouldn't let her forget about hooking up with Carolyn. You held it over her head every chance you got.”

Sylvia blinked at her. “Ellen, now is neither the time nor the place.”

“She's right,” Carolyn cut in. “You told the whole school about it. It's your fault Stephan still won't let it go.”

“How dare you?” Sylvia shouted. “Who got Stephan Nylund's digital camera before he could upload the photos?”

“But who kept the photos?” Ellen cried. “You did! You threatened her with them ever since. You wouldn't let it die.”

“Shut up!” Sylvia screamed.

“No!” Ellen yelled back. “You do it to all of us. You are an evil, controlling bitch, Sylvia Orly.”

“Whoa!” Hazel put her arm around Ellen. “Calm down. We're at Megan's funeral.”

“Brandon didn't even want you,” Ellen said, brushing Hazel off and pointing her finger in Sylvia's face. “He wanted me, not you.”

“That's enough!” Sylvia shouted, getting to her feet. She advanced on Ellen.

“Yes, it
is
enough!” Ellen said. “We are done. All of us. The PLDs are over.”

“Oh?
You've
decided that?” Sylvia's voice was dripping with contempt.

“Yes!” Ellen shrieked at her. “I have.” She took Carolyn's hand. “Come on. Let's get the hell out of here.”

“Why? So you can go wring her neck and blame it on the rest of us?” Sylvia asked.

Ellen froze. “What are you saying? That
I
killed Megan?”

“Why not you? You've always been the weird one, Ellen. A weird little freak,” Sylvia spat. “If it wasn't for me, do you think
anyone
would be your friend? I made you who you are.”

Ellen narrowed her eyes. “Don't try to pin this on me. Three people are dead, and you had reasons to be mad at all of them. Brandon liked me better than you. Breona Wu totally dissed you. And Megan—you killed Megan thinking she was me. We were going to tell. And
you
were the one who was going to go down for it. We all know it was you, Sylvia. We all know it!”

“Really? Where's your proof, Ellen?” Sylvia cried. “You have none. Because you know it wasn't me.”

She turned to Hazel. “You don't believe this…this
merde
, do you?”

“
Merde,
like you dish out?” Hazel replied. “You are a total user, Sylvia. Megan's right. We're through.”

Carolyn took Ellen's arm. Without another word, the two left the room.

Hazel followed them toward the door.

“Come back here!” Sylvia shouted. “Come back here if you know what's good for you, you pathetic losers!”

Hazel kept going.

“You are so going to regret walking away from me! You are all going to be sorry!”

 

Lakshmi was delighted to take Hazel home. She yakked all the way to the Stone house.

“Is it true she was buried with her scrunchie and her Claddagh ring?” Lakshmi asked.

Hazel said not one syllable in reply.

It was not a Movie of the Week moment. She was not going to discover that Lakshmi was her actual true best friend. Real life didn't work that way.

“I hope you feel better,” Lakshmi said by way of parting, obviously disappointed that Hazel hadn't talked or, better yet, invited her in.

Her parents had waited for her to return. Hazel was blandly noncommittal about what she and the other girls had done at the reception.

“I just hope you're okay, honey,” her mother said, worry lines creased around her eyes. They sat down at the kitchen table together, and Hazel let her mother make her some tea. Watching her mom putter around the kitchen, getting out jam and butter for toast, Hazel finally did have some kind of a moment. Maybe her mom wasn't the smartest or most interesting or most sophisticated person. But she was kind. She loved her children.

Hazel's mom trusted her. More than Hazel ever should have trusted her so-called friends.

Hazel excused herself and went up to bed. But her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep.

She took a shower. As she leaned against the tiles, her tears mixed with the water.

Ellen was right. Sylvia was evil. But there was no way to prove it.

Hazel felt lost. She needed a sane voice. Someone to lean on.

She got out of the shower and called Matty. He was there in minutes, holding his arms out as before. She didn't kiss him. She kept her distance.

“Matty,” she began. “I…I have to tell you something awful.” She took a deep breath.

In a rush, she told him everything. The big prank. Ellen. The baseball bat. Brandon dead on the floor.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “He was killed? And you knew that and
didn't say a word
?”

She stared down at her hands. At some point, she had started biting her nails, and she hadn't even realized it. They looked awful. She felt ugly. She couldn't believe Matty was sitting with her when she was so repellent.

She turned to him, searching his face. “It was unreal, Matty. For so long I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to think. But then I started putting the pieces together. It was Sylvia. We were going to the police—Carolyn, Ellen, Megan, and I. We were going to tell them everything. But then…we found Megan.”

“Oh my God.” He stared at her. His shock reflected her own worst thoughts. She felt herself beginning to panic. “Sylvia,” he said. “She's been right there with you all along.” She held on to both his hands and took deep breaths, willing herself not to shatter.

He wiped her tears with his fingers. “I'll help if you'll let me. I'll keep you safe tonight. I'll stay in my car out in front of your house until the sun comes up.”

“No way,” she protested, amazed that he could be so kind. “You won't be safe out there. You can sleep in here…on the floor.”

“Your parents won't mind?” he asked.

“They won't notice. Don't worry.”

 

While Matty settled into the blankets she'd laid out on the floor, she picked up her cell phone and checked for messages.

There was one voice mail—from Ellen:

“Oh my God, Hazel! I was attacked! I was at Carolyn's and I was freaking out so much I went for a walk, and someone jumped out of a car and tried to knife me! I ran back into her house. We don't know what to do! Call me back as soon as you get this.”

Her heart pounding, Hazel called back. There was no answer. She dialed Carolyn's cell phone.

“Oh my God. Where have you been?” Carolyn asked. “There's a huge cut on Ellen's arm! I'm so scared, Hazel. Someone is out to get us.”

“We have to go to the police,” Hazel said.

“And tell them what? About Brandon?” Carolyn asked, panicking. “It's like Sylvia said. We need some proof.”

Ellen grabbed the phone from Carolyn. “We can't go to the police, Hazel! Sylvia will get us.”

“Listen,” Hazel said. “Stay calm. We'll meet up in the morning and talk this over. Matty is here. He's going to help us.”

“I can't believe this is happening.” Ellen sighed. “Just stay on the phone with us. Carolyn will get on the other extension. We're so scared.”

“I just had a thought,” Hazel replied. “Sylvia got me this phone. Is there some way she can listen in?”

“God, I don't know,” Ellen said. “She is a total hacker. She showed us all how she got into restricted sites and spied on private chat rooms. It's not such a stretch to think…”