“Ready?” he yelled.
I took a breath, tilted my head back, and opened my mouth. Champagne poured onto my tongue. The guys in the window whooped. “Ha!She did it.”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grinned. I might have been sticky with champagne, but I felt cool as hell.
“All right, that was too easy,” Alex said. “Let me do it.”
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes again, but this time nothing happened. I heard stifled laughter up above, and when I opened my eyes, a torrent of beer poured all over me.
“What the hell?” I shouted, ducking out of the way as the guys emptied the rest of the pitcher.
“Oops, sorry, it slipped,” Alex said. His friends slapped him on the back and hollered.
My hair and dress were soaked. Behind me, a group of sorority girls pointed and whispered, everyone in line staring.
Resisting the urge to sprint away in embarrassment, I turned around and walked away from the club. When I looked back, Taylor was standing in the upstairs window. Our eyes met and she quickly looked away, not moving from where she stood tucked under Alex’s arm.Really, Taylor?
Tears stung my eyes as I pushed through the crowd. I wanted to turn around and yell at all of them, but the pain in my chest was too severe.
Once I was clear, I ran away from Cottage and onto the street, slipping off my heels and running barefoot until my feet stung, tiny rocks cutting into the soles until they bled.
Chapter Six
Naomi
October 2022, seven months before her death
“How’s this?” Zee stands ontop of the mini fridge holding one end of ahappy birthdaybanner. She sticks it to the wall and jumps down.
“You’ve really outdone yourself,” I tell her, taking in the birthday decorations.
“I wasn’t joking when I told you I cleaned out Party City.” Zee had thrown her long ombré twists into a high ponytail with two strands loose and changed into a bustier bodysuit, wide-leg cargo pants, and platform boots.
I put an arm around the life-sized cardboard cutout of our roommate, Amy, and check my phone to see if she’s replied. After class, I’d bought Amy a little birthday present—a novel about a bookshop owner by Gabrielle Zevin, a Totoro sticker to add to her collection of laptop stickers, and her favorite Kasugai lychee candy.
I suddenly realize I haven’t heard from Amy all day. “Hey.” I turn to Zee. “Do you think something’s up with her?”
“Amy?” Zee asks, distracted by the purple eyeliner held carefully against her lid.
“Yeah, has she seemed kind of distant lately?” I always worry about her pulling too many all-nighters, obsessed with trying to spin her internship withThe New York Timesinto a full-time job after graduation, but recently she’s been gone even more than usual, and when she is home, she’s been keeping her door shut.
Zee shrugs. “Not that I’ve noticed.”
—
In my room,I throw on a cropped long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and bigger hoops, freshen up my curls, and when I return to the common room, Zee is on the couch scrolling through her phone.
I check the fridge to make sure we have enough beer, and behind some cans of Coors Light and JuneShine is a suspicious-looking mason jar filled with cloudy white liquid. Written in permanent marker isZEE’S—DON’T TOUCH.
“What is this?” I ask, pulling it out.
Zee laughs. “I made homemade vodka!” She jumps up and swipes it from my hand.
The sound of a key turning in the lock makes us look, and Amy rushes in holding a stack of books and her laptop, looking like she’d slept at the library.
“Surprise!” Zee and I shout, as she takes in our party decorations. “Happy birthday!”
I throw my arms around Amy, books and all, while Zee turns up the music.
