“We’ll need to talk to your parents, obviously,” O’Neal said finally. “You said they’re on their way back?”
Wells nodded. “I called them,” he said. “They’re getting on the first ferry out.”
“Have them give us a call when they get in,” Reyes said, handing Wells his card as O’Neal tucked her notebook back into her pocket. “In the meantime, you kids take care of yourselves, will you? You must have had quite a scare.”
Takecareof yourselves?I blinked. I’d been bracing myself for a full interrogation, something out of theLaw & Orderreruns my mom liked to watch while she folded laundry, but before I knew what was happening, Reyes and O’Neal were saying their goodbyes and pulling out of the driveway of August House, the police car disappearing down the road like maybe it had never been there at all. I thought of the cops at my middle school back in Eastie, resource officers who stood like sentries in the hallways, tasers and batons tucked neatly into holsters on their hips. Twice I’d seen them pick kids up and haul them out of class kicking and screaming. Once I’d seen them wrestle a girl down onto the linoleum floor. I wasn’t stupid enough to think everyone had an equal shot when it came to law enforcement. Buttake care of yourselveswas…something else.
After they were gone, Jasper whirled to look at his sister, his hair and his expression both wild. “Eliza,” he said, “what thefuck?”
“What?” Eliza’s eyes widened. She was still in her pajamas, a matching set printed with little off-white stars. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I mean, you just fully lied to the cops, so I think if I’m looking at you a little funny—”
Right away, Eliza held a hand up. “First of all,” she interrupted, eyes cutting to Aidy, “I didn’t lie. They asked if there was anyone else here that they needed to know about, which there wasn’t.”
“And the part about how none of us were drinking?”
She made a face. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “doyouwant Mom and Dad to know we threw a gigantic fucking party while they were gone?”
“Since when do Mom and Dad give a shit about that kind of thing?” Wells asked.
“Since Greg fucking Holliman wandered drunk into our pool, and his trash parents are going to rain even more shit down on this family than they already have!” Eliza exploded. “Also, ‘Greg is a friend of ours’?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry,whichone of us was lying, exactly?” She sank down into a patio chair, scraping her hands through her sleep-messy hair. “Look,” she said, “obviously this is fucking horrible. Like, I don’t even know how to begin to—” She broke off. “But it was his own fault. And I’m not about to let any more of them drag any more ofusdown with them.”
None of us said anything for a moment. I could hear the seagulls cawing down on the beach. Birdie slid the door halfway open, a blast of cold air from the AC whooshing out into the muggy morning. “Breakfast is ready,” she reported, her voice perfectly even. “You all should come have something to eat.”
The four of us shuffled inside obediently, taking our seats around the island. I was expecting Birdie to follow, but instead she slipped past us out into the yard, her strawberry-blond hair catching the sunlight. I watched through the window as she made her way across the patio, discreetly pulling the beer can from beneath the branches of the rosebush and dropping it into the recycling bin before coming back into the kitchen.
“Syrup’s on the counter” was all she said.
