Truth or Dare (14 page)

Tenley stared hard at the girl, but still she couldn’t place her. “Don’t remember me?” the girl asked dryly. “You used to call me Scholarship Syd, if that helps?”

Of course.
Sydney, the girl from the Dread.

Caitlin let out a nervous cough as she joined them next to Sydney’s jalopy. “What are you doing here, Sydney?” she asked shakily.

“I’m meeting a friend,” Sydney replied. “What are you guys doing here?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“A friend?” Tenley repeated, ignoring the question. She looked around at the empty parking lot. “At the pier? At midnight?” She narrowed her eyes at Sydney. She wasn’t buying her story that easily. “Is your friend a vampire?”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “You’re here at midnight,” she pointed out. “Not that I’d be surprised if you were a vampire.” She smiled tightly. “You always did love to suck the blood out of things.”

Gritting her teeth, Tenley fixed her gaze on Sydney. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Sydney, but I promise you this: You do not want to mess with us.”

“Ten,” Cait said softly, putting a hand on her arm, but Tenley couldn’t stop. Echo Bay was the one place in the world where she
fit
.

“Why don’t you make this easier on yourself and just tell us the truth before this goes any further?” Tenley continued angrily. “Are you stalking us, Sydney? Is this some little-girl crush?”

“
What?
” Sydney pulled a crumpled wad of paper out of her bag, looking exasperated. “If you’re talking about this, then here.” She shoved the paper at Tenley. “Take ’em. Believe me, I don’t want them.”

“What is this?” Tenley demanded. She pulled her phone out of her purse, shining it on the stack of papers. When she saw the page on top, she let out a soft gasp. There were two photos printed on it, side by side.
Before
and
After
, someone had stenciled above them. Tenley rocked unsteadily on her heels. The last time she’d seen those photos,
she’d been in her surgeon’s office for her follow-up appointment, still unable to believe that the
after
really belonged to her.

Caitlin leaned over her shoulder. “Oh my god,” she murmured as she took in the photos.

Tenley looked up sharply. “Where did you get these?” she hissed at Sydney.

“They were scattered on the beach,” Sydney said. She looked confused now. “Isn’t that what you meant?”

Tenley’s hands were shaking as she flipped through the stack of papers. Her breasts stared back at her again and again: small, big, small, big, small, big. “They were just scattered on the beach?” she spat out. “And you
took
them?”

“I thought I was doing you a favor,” Sydney said defensively. “But maybe I should have left them. You probably would have deserved it.” She glared at Tenley, her bangs falling into her eyes. “You know what, I’m out of here.” She glanced toward the pier. “I’ve got somewhere better to be.” Turning on her heels, she stormed away before Tenley could stop her.

“What just happened?” Caitlin asked shakily as Sydney reached the pier, blending into the night.

Tenley shoved the photos into her purse. She planned to send them through Lanson’s shredder at least three times when she got home. “What just happened is that Sydney girl is a freak,” she said. Her voice cracked slightly and she coughed. It wasn’t that she was scared or anything. She just hated not being in control. “I bet she sent us those dares, Cait.”

Caitlin bit down on her lip. “I don’t know… it doesn’t really make sense. Maybe this whole thing was just some bad joke. We did make
everyone play truth or dare last night, Ten. Maybe one of our friends thought it would be funny.”

“Why would any of our friends go to this much trouble and then not show up for the joke?”

Caitlin twisted a strand of hair around her finger. It was clear she didn’t have an answer.

“I say we hire a PI,” Tenley declared. “Have a professional figure it out for us. I’ll have Lanson pay for it,” she added. Thanks to her new stepfather, money was once again a nonissue for Trudy and Tenley.

But Caitlin flinched at the idea. “I don’t know, Ten. Having someone poke around in our lives? It just reminds me too much of…” She trailed off, but she didn’t need to say anything else. Tenley could guess what she meant. In those awful days after Caitlin was returned from her kidnapping, it had seemed as though there were investigators everywhere, asking questions and giving commands.

“You’re right,” Tenley said quickly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. We’ll handle this on our own, okay?”

Caitlin nodded gratefully. “Thanks.” Her phone suddenly buzzed, making them both jump. “It’s just Emerson,” Caitlin said quickly as she read her text. She looked up at Tenley apologetically. “I have to go. She’s been waiting for me in the car.” Caitlin looked over her shoulder, as though she was expecting someone to jump out of the shadows at any moment. “Why don’t you come with us for a bit?”

For a brief second, Tenley considered it. The idea of going home all alone right now seemed almost unbearable, but somehow the thought of playing nice with Emerson was even worse. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face.

“You sure?” Caitlin asked, sounding doubtful. She glanced nervously over her shoulder again.

“Go,” Tenley insisted. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“All right,” Caitlin said, giving Tenley a hug. “But call me if you need me, okay?” Tenley waved as Caitlin took off at a jog for her car. But as she pulled out onto Ocean Drive, she let her faux cheerfulness melt away. She’d come to the docks ready for a fight, and all she’d left with was more questions. Where did those photos even come from? They were the property of her surgeon in California. And Sydney said she just
found
them on the beach?

She slammed her hand against her steering wheel, frustrated. As she did, something on the water caught her attention. Something bright—like lights—flickering in the distance. Was it the ghost lights? Her breath caught in her throat as she looked over. But whatever had been there seconds ago was already gone. Still, wanting a distraction, she pulled her car over to the side of the road.

She’d heard all the stories about Echo Bay’s ghost lights, how people claimed they were the ghosts of the three Lost Girls trapped at sea, forever beckoning for help. It had all sounded like a bunch of crap to her… but suddenly she wanted desperately to see them.

Tenley rolled down her window, a gust of cool, almost-fall air whipping through her hair. “Come on, ghost lights,” she whispered. She kept her eyes trained on the ocean for a long time, but the lights never flickered again. The night just stretched on, heavy and taut, no break in the darkness.

Finally, she gave up. With a sigh, she rolled her window back up. Grabbing the papers out of her purse, she began obsessively flipping through them, again and again. With an angry groan, she tore one in half. It made a satisfying
riiiip
sound, so she tore another one. Then another. She was halfway through the pile when she noticed something strange.

One of the torn halves had landed facedown on the passenger seat. And there, typed on the back of it, was a message. Tenley lifted it up. The message was in the same typewriter font as the dare from yesterday.

They say it’s tit for tat, but here’s a truth for you: It’s more like tit for tit. I said if you didn’t tell, I would. Ta-da!

Monday, 8
AM

THE SUN WAS ALREADY GLARING BY THE TIME SYDNEY
finished her shoot for the day. She yawned as she packed up her camera equipment. She’d gotten up early that morning, still buzzing with unused energy after her strange night last night. She’d waited on the pier for almost an hour for Guinness to come, but he’d never showed. No one had, other than Caitlin and Tenley—who, even after four years, had seemed exactly the same to Sydney: plastic in more ways than one.

Finally she’d declared the whole night a flop—some stupid prank, probably—and headed back to her car. That’s when she saw it: another note, tucked beneath her windshield wipers. She’d whipped around, suddenly certain she was being watched, but the parking lot was empty.

Now Sydney pulled the note out of her pocket and read it over for the thousandth time.

Did I get your pulse racing? Well, here’s something that will make it go even
faster. I dare you to break into the boathouse--and light things up. I have a feeling you’ll know what I mean….

Caitlin and Tenley were the only people she’d seen in that parking lot all night. And everyone knew how much they loved their truth or dare. But why would they want to drag her of all people into their twisted game?

“I think we got ourselves some paparazzi over there.” The gravelly voice drew Sydney’s attention away from the note. Two fishermen were talking by the water as they cleaned their catch.

“The tourists are all over lately,” she heard one say in a thick Boston accent. He bent down to adjust the crate they were throwing the clean fish into. “Trying to photograph that Phantom Rock.”

“Terrible, if you ask me,” the other fisherman replied gruffly. “I used to know Danny Mayor. Bought fish from me back before… well, everything happened and he left town. He was a good man. Broke his heart when little Nikki died. And now here everyone is, acting like it’s some damn TV show.”

For a second Sydney thought about correcting them, telling them she wasn’t just another tourist, here to photograph the Phantom Rock. But then they began hauling their catch down the docks, their voices fading into the distance, and she climbed into her car instead. It didn’t matter what they thought; she’d gotten the photos she needed.

A few minutes later, Sydney sat stuck at the light next to the Yacht Club, tapping her thumb against the steering wheel. On the sidewalk, a blond girl in black leggings and a white tank top was crouched down, searching around for something in the grass. It wasn’t until she looked up for a second that Sydney realized it was Patty—
no
, Tricia—Sutton.

At one point, when Tricia was still Patty, she and Sydney had almost become friends. During Winslow’s mandatory swim lessons, they’d bonded over how horrible the other girls at school were.

But that was a long time ago, before Tricia had gone on to befriend those very girls. For a second Sydney considered ignoring her. But Tricia looked like she’d lost something. And besides, even though she was friends with the Emerson clique now, she still smiled and waved at Sydney, as though she hadn’t forgotten their shared past pain.

With a sigh, Sydney rolled down her window.

“Everything okay, Tricia?” she called out.

Tricia started a little. “Sydney,” she said, blinking up at her. “Hey. I’m just looking for my… Got ’em!” She hoisted a pair of earphones triumphantly into the air. “Now I can finally finish my run.” With a wave, she slid the earphones into her ears and took off jogging down the street.

Sydney watched her in the rearview. She used to think she and Tricia were in the same boat, destined to be Winslow outcasts forever. They both came from equally messed-up families. Tricia’s aunt used to be known around town as Mrs. Shakespeare—thanks to the garbled one-woman shows she liked to perform in the streets. But after she had a very public meltdown on Art Walk when Tricia was in ninth grade, the family had her institutionalized. Sydney remembered how much she had felt for Tricia at the time.

But this tiny, trim blond, with her perfect highlights and her cheerleading tank top, was not that same girl anymore. And neither was she, Sydney reminded herself. Once upon a time she’d actually cared about having friends at Winslow. But those days were long gone.

The red light had just turned green when Sydney heard her phone let out a ding. She glanced behind her; there were no cars waiting.
Quickly she fished her phone out of her purse. When she saw the name on the screen, her heart skipped a beat. Guinness.

Hey Blue
, he’d written.
What u up to this afternoon?

Sydney paused for only a second before responding. She’d been invited to an afternoon barbecue at the firehouse today for the firemen and their families, but the idea of playing house with her dad made her feel sick to her stomach. He’d left two messages about it on their answering machine yesterday, sounding annoyingly sincere when he said how much he missed them both.
No plans
, she wrote back.
Any ideas?

His response came quickly.
Meet u at the pier at four.

Sydney spent the rest of the day developing photos and working on her essay for applying early to the Rhode Island School of Design, but the thought of seeing Guinness kept distracting her. She spilled developer all over the counter, smashed her knee into a chair, and typed up an entire essay paragraph in all caps. The second the clock finally ticked near four o’clock, she practically sprinted to her car.

When she got to the pier, she saw him right away. He was standing at the end, down by the main building of the Yacht Club, his back to her as he looked out over the water. He was wearing a beat-up yellow T-shirt and his dark hair was long and messy. It took everything Sydney had not to sprint over to him. But she didn’t; she waited. And when he looked over his shoulder and saw her, it was worth it. He broke into a smile—not his lazy half smile, but a real one.

“Blue,” he said when he reached her. A to-go bag from Pat-a-Pancake hung from his wrist. “Long time.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her into a nook behind the Yacht Club building. And then suddenly he was kissing her, hard, his hands in her hair, his body pressed against hers. And it was as if no time had passed at all. When they pulled apart, she was breathless.

“Nice to see you, too,” she said.

“Just figured I’d get that out of the way,” Guinness said easily. He ran a hand through her long hair, working out a few tangles. “Otherwise we’d both be thinking about it and wondering about it and…” He shook his head, all mock seriousness. “It would be terrible.”

“Awful,” Sydney agreed, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face.