“Stop it,” I beg. “Stop!”
Haven stops crying and smirks at me as she wipes at her cheeks daintily. “Meanwhile, you’ll sit there and go, ‘Buh-buh-but—’ Who do you think they’re going to believe? Me, the girl with a bright future ahead of her, or you, the school freak who’s held a grudge against Dani for the last five years?”
“I never held a grudge against Dani!” I cry.
“Didn’t you?” Haven says. “I think I could make a pretty good case to support that. You’re always lurking around her, always watching her ...”
Because she was my best friend! I want to scream, but I’m out of words. I’m caught in a nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from.
“So,” Haven says, “I’m giving you a chance here, okay? A chance for both of us to walk away from this. Or you could choose to go down in flames, which would be messy and ultimately result in you probably going to prison. I don’t want that, Fern. I don’t have the time nor the patience for it.”
My mind feels like it’s being ripped apart, one side reeling with horror from what’s happened to Dani, and the other reeling with horror from the thought of my ruined future. Because Haven is absolutely right. Maybe she might be okay, with her affluent parents and her shiny personality, but I sure as hell won’t ever be able to escape the shadow of tonight. Not if it ever got out that I was involved. It would definitely mean prison time, and that’s much, much worse than community college. Not only that, but it would stay on my record for the rest of my life, making it impossible for me to find a good job. I’d thought that my life was miserable before, but the misery would be nothing compared to what’s in store for me if they blamed me for tonight.
“Nobody can know that we were here,” Haven says.
I feel my head nodding, as though of its own accord. “No one.”
“Did you tell anyone you were coming out here to meet Dani?”
“No.” Who would I tell? I want to say. I have no friends, and my parents don’t give a shit about me. “You?”
“My parents are out of town,” Haven says. “So I didn’t tell them anything.”
We stare at each other for another long moment, and though no words are spoken, it feels like a world of communication is being shared between us. Understanding settles over us, a silent promise twining itself around us, binding us forever to each other. If she talks, I talk, and vice versa. And neither of us will come out of this unscathed. Unless we stay silent and erase ourselves from Dani’s death completely.
Now, as Haven and I sit in the principal’s office, with two officers staring at us, I try my best not to think of last night.
“We’re trying to determine the cause of death,” the officer says. “Is there anything you can tell us that might help us understand how this happened?”
As usual, I am frozen, my mind both silent and also a cacophony of panicked thoughts. Nothing coalesces into a coherent thought. Again and again, the fight replays in my head, and still I can’t discern who pushed Dani over the cliff.
It is Haven’s voice that slices through the noise in my head. “Dani was struggling with a lot of stuff.”
My head snaps up, my shocked gaze locking onto Haven’s face. She pretends not to notice me staring as she continues speaking.
“She was always really hard on herself,” Haven says. “She really wanted to get into Stanford, and she was devastated when she didn’t get in. Maybe it all got too much for her.”
My mouth is gaping. I can’t believe how naturally Haven lies. If I hadn’t been there myself last night, I would’ve believed every word coming out of Haven’s mouth.
The officer notices my expression. “Fern, do you have something to say?”
I close my mouth abruptly. How could I possibly say anything now? If I did, Haven would tell them I’m a liar, and look what an incredible performer Haven is. Meanwhile, I have guilt wriggling through me like a worm. I can’t see anyone believing me over her. And what would I say, anyway? That we were there last night, and Dani fell? They’d ask why we didn’t call for help right away, then what? I look down at my hands. Dani is dead. And the cops believing one story over another changes nothing. She’ll still be gone. And I don’t have it in me to stand up to Haven. Not now. Probably not ever.
I shake my head. “No.”
“You said Dani was your best friend,” the cop says, leaning forward. “Is it true what Haven said about Dani being stressed out?”
Tears blur my vision as I nod. I hate myself so much. I wish I could trade my life for Dani’s. I am weak. I have always been weak.
The officers thank us for our time, and Haven and I are dismissed. We leave in silence, and when she and I are alone in the hallway, our eyes meet.
“I hope I never see you again,” I say, and I mean every single word.
“Me too,” Haven says, her face hard and cold like a mask. She turns and walks ahead of me, and I, as always, am left staring at her retreating back, my insides coiling with self-hatred.
Chapter 28
The news about Haven’s suicide is all over Twitter, and everyone seems to be incandescent with rage and grief, and they’re all looking for somebody to blame. That somebody is, naturally, me. People say you should never read the comments, but there is not a chance in hell that I would be able to keep myself from reading them.
