Oh, God.
I sound like an old person.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” the kid pipes up. “Nix told me what happened and—”
“Shut up,” I snap. “Shut up and sit down.”
He goes quiet and drops onto the couch obediently, hands clasped between his knees. But the kid’s too tall, toopristine, and I’m starting to feel dizzy. This can’t be happening. My mind runs through the possibilities. It’s way too late to go to the police, not that it was ever an option. But now someone knows. If this were a movie, I’d have to kill this kid. But this isn’t a movie, and I’m not about killing my little sister’s nerdy friend. Jesus Christ, we are so fucked.
“Did you go in the bedroom?” I ask him. “Did he go in the bedroom?” I spin on my sister when he doesn’t answer fast enough.
She shuffles on her feet, chewing her lip. “Yes?”
“Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair.
“I’m really not—” the kid tries.
“Just stop talking. Let me think.”
He presses his lips together, shutting up. Good. That’s something. But there’s no way this doesn’t blow up in our faces. The first sign of questioning, and this kid is going to sing like a bird. He’s not family. He’s going to save his own ass. How could Nix be so stupid? I don’t blame her for killing Marshal. Do I wishshe hadn’t? Of course. But I don’t blame her. This, though? This is the nail in our coffin.
“The longer you leave the…” the kid starts, “the longer you leave the body, the more at risk—”
“What body?” I turn on the kid, finding a meager crumb of strength. “You don’t know anything about a body. Do you hear me? Nothing.”
“Kira,” Nix whines.
“No! Do you want me to have to kill your little friend here?” It’s an empty threat; we both know it, but it feels good to say. “Because that’s what I’m going to have to do to protect us. I can’t believe you would be so stupid.”
“I thought you were going to die!” she screams. “What was I supposed to do? Tell me!”
“Wait for me!” I shout.
“Were you going to come back as a ghost?! I had to do something!”
“So you callhim?” I hitch a thumb in his direction. “He looks like he has a chauffeur, for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s… valid,” the kid says. “Offensive, but… valid.”
I ignore him.
“You would have been better off snagging a homeless guy off the street. But now you’ve involved Mr. Fancy Pants over here who’s going to run straight to the police at the first drop of blood on his loafers.”
“Loafers?” He glances down at his feet. “Do they… do they look like loafers? They’re the new Nikes. I thought they looked cool. But I’m not always the best judge. My brother said—”
“Jesus, do you shut up?!” I snap at him.
“No, actually. Uh, when I’m nervous, I tend to have this problem where—”
I glare at him.
“Right. Shutting up.”
“We have a plan,” Nix says when I finally drag my attention back to her.
“Oh, wonderful.” I snort and drop onto the couch. “Tell me the plan that two high schoolers came up with.” I rub at my chest, my skin feeling flushed. Maybe I really should have had that Robert stop at the pharmacy. When was I supposed to take the first dose of that beta blocker? I can’t even remember.
“You know what, grab me the Red Bull first. I think I’m going to need it,” I say, feeling like I’ve run a mile.
