The Girl Who Wasn't (7 page)

The elevator ride is silent. I focus on
who I am—her, not me—and when the doors open I smile widely,
donning the mask.

The first thing I notice is the music.
I cannot see where it comes from but it is floaty and wistful in a
way that makes my heart ache. Music in Twig City is rare, mostly
children’s songs and lullabies. Nothing like this.

I wander toward the sound, smiling and
nodding at men and women in dark suits who do the same for me. No
one approaches and I have the sense this is more Titus’s crowd than
mine. No one here is my age. Some I recognize from the albums,
which makes me think of Linc. I wonder if he’s here.

I am disappointed to realize after two
laps around the apartment that the music is only being poured in
through overhead speakers. Instead of turning back, I choose an
empty hallway, taking in the sight of the expensive art mixed among
fancy molding. Muted conversations float up from the party I’ve
left behind. It’s an almost enjoyable atmosphere, being here but
being apart somehow. The doors I pass are mostly closed but a few
are cracked, inviting those who seek privacy. I am curious to find
out what goes on in those rooms but too scared at what I’d find if
I looked.

Female laughter bubbles out of a room
as I pass, light and airy and Authentic. Before I can turn toward
the sound, someone grabs me from behind. I spin quickly, terror and
surprise mingling. Any noise I could’ve made sticks in my throat at
the sight of Linc. He is dressed in black slacks and a pressed
white shirt. It is more formal than yesterday’s ensemble of
corduroy and cotton. I suppose he is trying to blend in.

“
What are you doing back
here?” he demands.

“
I was … looking for the
music,” I say. He is standing close enough that I catch the scent
of something man-made, some sort of cologne on him. Mixed with the
outdoorsy smell that seems to be his signature, it distracts me. My
face heats when I realize he’s noticed my reaction.

He drops my elbow. “It’s not safe to
wander alone.”

“
I’m not alone. There are
people everywhere,” I say.

“
Exactly.”

I pause, understanding his meaning.
Someone here—even in this elite crowd—could have it out for me.
Before I can form a response, the trilling laughter comes again
from the room behind me, followed by my name.

“
Raven! There you
are!”

A petite blond appears in the doorway
as Linc moves away from me. She smiles brightly at me, completely
ignoring him. I recognize her from the albums. Taylor. She is
Raven’s—my—best friend.

“
Taylor,” I say. It comes
out breathy because I am relieved to remember something this
important when I am still reeling from Linc’s touch. It was meant
to remind me of danger. Instead, it thrilled me and left me wanting
more time with his fingers on my skin.

Taylor inspects me critically and I
freeze. “You look … better than I expected. How’s your head? I
didn’t expect you out so soon.”

“
My head’s fine. Sore,” I
amend, knowing I should be feeling something from whatever injury
I’ve sustained.

“
I should’ve known it
wouldn’t keep you away from a good party,” she says. “Did Daniel
come with you?”

Daniel. I recall a face from the
photos. A senator’s son. Titus’s right-hand man. The way Linc spoke
of him, this boy is being groomed to take over Titus’s business
someday. Linc didn’t mention a connection between Daniel and me so
I’m not sure what to say to Taylor’s expectant expression. “Um
…”

“
Don’t tell me you haven’t
talked to him yet,” she says. “The paparazzi have been driving him
crazy from what I hear, trying to get the dish on what you two were
doing together that night.”

Paparazzi. I remember Linc saying the
word when we paged through those albums. Men with cameras, always
angling for gossip or secrets or something to sell. As if Raven’s
private business is a commodity.

I stare at Taylor, trying to understand
what she’s not saying. Was I with this Daniel the night I—Raven—was
injured? Is he special to me—to her?

“
I’ve been so busy with
doctor appointments, I guess I haven’t had time,” I say with a
careless shrug. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

She smiles and the way her lips curl is
insinuating. “I bet you will. Nothing like a good piece of ass to
get you back into the swing of things. Come on, let’s make the
rounds and then find the bottle the maid stashed for
us.”

Linc’s expression twists. I keep mine
carefully blank of any evidence of my cluelessness. Taylor doesn’t
notice either. She loops her slender arm through mine and I let her
lead me toward the party. Linc falls back and soon I don’t see him
anymore.

We wander from gathering to gathering.
Taylor does most of the talking, her tinkling laughter cutting
through even the most serious conversations. Taylor knows everyone
and everyone knows Taylor. She is a master at small talk and
compliments and leaving everyone smiling in our wake. I wonder if I
am usually just as talkative but she doesn’t seem to mind my
silence.

More than once, I feel eyes on me from
across the room. I turn, expecting a glower from Titus or Gus’s
unsmiling watchfulness. Instead, I find Linc studying me with a
careful stare that seems to see everything all at once though he
only looks at me. Despite his judgmental treatment, I feel safe
with Linc watching.

When we’ve done a full lap and spoken
with everyone present at least once, Taylor leads me through a side
door and into a dimly lit room containing rows and rows of coats.
Small aisles span right and left, too narrow to walk through
without my shoulders brushing the jackets hanging on either
side.

“
Shut the door, will you?”
Taylor goes to the nearest rack and begins searching
pockets.

I push the door until it latches and
then wait while she continues patting down jackets. “What are you
doing?”

“
I had the maid leave a
stash for us. Should be right around … here!” She pulls her hand
free from the pocket of a fur wrap, grinning triumphantly. From her
fist dangles a clear glass bottle with blue lettering.

She motions me over and
pulls me down beside her. We sit on the carpet with our legs tucked
under us. I try to read the label on the bottle but Taylor uncaps
and upends it before I can make out anything beyond the word
vodka
. She takes a quick
swig, grins, and holds it out for me. I take it, trying to seem
sure, like I’ve done this a million times.

Taylor busies herself with the contents
of her purse. She sets items aside, keeping hold of a small
handheld mirror and a bill of paper money. She continues to fish
around, muttering, “It’s here somewhere, I know it.” I don’t bother
to ask what she’s looking for. I’m sure I’ll find out soon
enough.

I wrap my lips around the bottle’s
opening and tip it back. The moment the liquid hits my mouth, it
burns. I wrench the bottle away and squeeze my eyes shut to block
out the fire ripping a trail down my insides. I swallow and then
cough hard enough to rack my shoulders.

Taylor laughs. “Damn, Rav. Did hitting
your head affect your ability to hold your liquor?”

I grunt something that isn’t really an
answer. She grabs the bottle and takes another swig. All too soon
it is my turn again. Like before, I cough and sputter as the liquid
cuts a molten path down my esophagus.

“
Finally!” Taylor exclaims.
She withdraws a small, clear bag from her purse and holds it aloft.
“You down for a line or two?” she asks.

“
A line?” I ask, watching
blankly as she dumps the powdery contents of the bag onto the
mirror. She sifts and straightens it using a plastic card and then
rolls the money into a tight funnel.

“
Yeah, a line.” She laughs
but otherwise doesn’t react to my lack of knowledge. Maybe the
liquor’s made her slower. “You know, coke.” Without waiting for my
answer, she leans down and snorts a row of powder into her nose.
She tips her head back and sniffles a few more times before eyeing
me again. She hands me the paper bill. I don’t move to take
it.

“
I do that?” I
ask.

“
You do that,” she confirms
with a laugh. “Along with many other things.”

I ignore that and eye the powder. The
only thing we’re taught about street drugs is they’re harmful to
the body. I don’t know the direct effects of the strange white
substance but the alcohol alone is already burning a slow hole
through me. “Maybe I’ll skip it this time,” I say.

I brace myself for Taylor’s protests.
Or worse, suspicion. But she just rolls her eyes and leans down for
another line. “Suit yourself. More for me.” I watch as she sucks
another line of powder into her nasal cavity and
shudder.

“
God, it burns,” she says,
pinching her nose a few times as she sniffles. I’m just about to
ask if that’s good or bad when she grins at me and adds, “That’s
how you know it’s the good shit.”

I wonder what it means if it’s bad
shit.

“
This totally reminds me of
the Rafferty party last month,” she says. “I forgot to tell you
what happened. So, remember how we were doing lines in the
bathroom? Oh, right, you probably don’t. Well, we were, and Caine
and Daniel walked in on us. I was so sure they were going to
third-degree us because you know how Daniel feels about street
drugs. Whatever.” She pauses to roll her eyes.

“
Anyway, so I shoved
everything under the sink and then you guys slipped out but Caine
stayed. I had to distract him somehow. So I pretended I was on my
knees for a different reason.” Even though we’re alone, she lowers
her voice and goes on, “I didn’t even ask his permission. I just
unbuttoned his pants right there and gave him the best blow job of
his life. He didn’t even know what hit him.”

I giggle with her, pretending I have
some clue what a blow job is. Before I am tempted to ask, I take
another swig of the vodka.

By the next swallow, the burning
lessens and I feel … looser. Taylor is laughing, though neither one
of us has said anything remotely funny. For some reason, this makes
me laugh too.

When the door opens, we fall abruptly
silent, but that just makes the whole thing funnier and sound
erupts around my closed lips.

I recognize Linc’s shoes before I see
his face and manage to shut up, although I can’t help the brilliant
smile that remains. This relaxed version of me is elated to see him
again. He appears around the aisle of coats, glaring when he spots
Taylor beside me—and the bottle and dusty mirror between us. Only
then do I realize neither of us bothered to try and hide the
evidence of our exploits.

“
Your father is looking for
you,” Linc says to me.

His voice is low and deeper than usual.
His brows are drawn and I can’t tell if he’s angry because I don’t
feel the least bit disturbed by his expression. Or by anything
else, thanks to the drink. Then I realize who he means by “father”
and the image of Titus wipes the smile from my face in an
instant.

“
Call me!” Taylor says as I
hurry out. I can tell by the sound of her voice she is not the
least bit disturbed by the interruption and has every intention of
continuing the party on her own.

I follow Linc out the door and he
whirls on me before I can leave the shadowy alcove that shields us
from the rest of the party. “That was monumentally stupid
disappearing like that,” he says.

“
I didn’t—I thought you were
watching,” I say, stumbling over words that feel thick in my
mouth.

“
It doesn’t matter. You
should be more careful. You can’t rely on me to be everywhere, to
see everything.”

“
Why not?” I ask, cocking my
head in genuine puzzlement. “You’ll protect me. And it was just
Taylor.”

“
How do you know? There
could’ve been someone waiting for you in that room, and I wouldn’t
have gotten there in time.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Now that I
have, I am afraid—and angry with myself for being so stupid. I try
to think of some flippant remark, some quick comeback to hide my
fear or the fact that he’s right, but my thoughts are
cloudy.

“
And to top it off, you’re
drinking?” He throws up his hands. “Do you
want
to die?”

“
No,” I whisper, but he
ignores me and keeps on.

“
How am I supposed to
protect you if you won’t even protect yourself? I can’t save an
idiot. You’re already dead if you keep this up.”

I step back, feeling as if I’ve been
struck.

Before I can answer, Gus appears. He
seems oblivious to the tension between Linc and me as he says,
“We’re leaving. Meet us downstairs in five.”

I reach for the door behind me but Linc
shakes his head and steps around me. “Wait here. I’ll get your
things.”

He disappears inside the coatroom
before I can argue. The sound of his voice lingers in my ears, an
accusing loop of his harsh words. Somehow I know that if Linc has
given up protecting me, I don’t stand a chance. But more than that,
I hate that I will never, ever earn his respect.