Emma flexes her jaw, narrowing her gaze at Beth. “You’rethe one who took the brunt of Courtney’s cruelty that day. Passively enduring Courtney fat-shaming you with her snide remarks about your weight during our hike.” Emma purses her lips, knowing she’s struck a nerve. “Even though she pretended to be your friend, Courtney was always cutting you down. It sometimes seemed subtle, but it was cruel. It had to have affected you. Hell, it’s probably why you’ve spent the rest of your life burying yourself in books and academia.” Emma rolls her eyes. “And your cat. Rather than living in the real world.”
“Like you’re any different,” Beth hisses, raising her voice. “Hiding behind your renovation career, obsessed with creating a new, false image of yourself. Putting a sweet, beaming photo of yourself on a billboard on the 405.”
I cringe at Beth’s mention of the billboard. After Emma’s volatile video went viral, someone had graffitiedBitchon the billboard in red letters. The last time I’d driven by, it was still there.
“Just like Gigi, you’re addicted to being in the limelight, trying to erase what it felt like having everyone look at you like you were a murderer. And your anger problem is clearly worse than ever. It’s why you needed this trip. To repair your shattered public image. Without that, you have nothing.”
Emma’s knuckles whiten around the wheel. She flexes her jaw.
“Look,” I say, trying to defuse the situation, afraid of what Emma might do if Beth keeps poking at her. It wouldn’t take much for Emma to throw Beth overboard. I jut out my arm in between them, only partly aware that the hammering below deck has stopped. “Why don’t we just calm—”
Beth steps toward Emma, pushing my arm to the side. “You were consumed with jealousy when Courtney replaced you as volleyball captain after you broke your ankle from Bryson and Jake’s prank. Especially after we won the championship and Courtney got a full-ride volleyball scholarship instead of you. That’s why you had it out with Courtney that night outside our tents. You hated her for it, and you still do.”
A wave of guilt washes over me, like a heavy weight on my shoulders.
Beth jabs a finger at Emma’s chest. “Maybe that’s why you—”
“I didn’t fight with Courtney that night,” Emma shouts. “Palmer did.”
“What?” Beth gapes at me.
“I woke up and heard Courtney say something about Palmer’s mom never getting hired again, then Gigi came out asking Courtney if she was okay and Palmer what the hell had happened.” Emma squared her jaw and locked eyes with mine. “You decked her, didn’t you? Over what she said about your mom.”
“Courtney and I spilled the dish soap, not Bryson and Jake,” I say, releasing the lie I’d been holding for two decades.
Emma and Beth stare at me in silence, finally at a loss for words.
“I was with Courtney when she put the dish soap on the floor. She tried to get me to do it, but I chickened out at the last minute,” I continue. “Then we lied about seeing Bryson and Jake in the locker room.” I exhale, meeting Emma’s gaze. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told the truth a long time ago. I was going to—”
Emma’s palm impacts my cheek before I have time to react. My flesh stings when she lowers her hand.
Emma’s steely gaze sears into mine. “You bitch.”
She lunges at me, letting go of the wheel to grab me by my life vest with both hands. “I always knew it had to be Courtney. It was the only thing that made sense. But I trusted you.Yousaid it was Bryson and Jake! I even asked you on our rafting trip. And all these years, you pretended to be myfriend. But you’re just as bad as her,” Emma seethes.
I’m worse,I think.Emma doesn’t even know what I did the next day.
Beth tries to intervene, moving between us. The boat tips, and she falls backward, smacking her head on the cockpit table on her way down.
“Beth!” I yell, shoving Emma back.
“Hey,” Russell shouts from the companionway. “What the hell’s going on? Stop.”
“It’s her fault.” Emma glares at me, shoving me backward before letting go of my life vest.
“Enough,” Russell calls as Beth gets to her feet, rubbing the back of her head.
He points to the navigation screens mounted above the wheel. “Look.”
Emma and I turn to the screens, which are lit up, displaying the depth gradients around us in shades of blue, and appear to be fully functioning.
“I got the power back on.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Memorial Day Weekend, 2005
I lay awake in the tiny tent I shared with Gigi. It was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
