Sophie nods in quick agreement.
Joey cannot believe what’s happening right now. “I thought you’d get it. It didn’t even occur to me that you wouldn’t.” She pauses, waiting for someone to say something, anything, to contradict her. “It seems I miscalculated.” She is expecting her words to rile them or at least shake the doubt from their faces, but it only seems to deepen their concern. Even Elena is wearing a look of pity. “Fine, whatever. I know what I heard.”
“Joey…” Sophie says, but Joey can’t handle this.
She whisper-yells across the table, “Do you not understand what this means? It means we know at least part of the truth about what happened. It wasn’t an accident.”
She thinks she can see a glimmer of regret in their expressions—at least in Sophie’s—but it’s fleeting because they’re interrupted by a sound from the door. A chill floods the room, and a second later, bodies stream through, voices raised. Laughter rings out, echoing in every corner. Suddenly, it’s as lively as a nightclub, and Stevie Nicks sings from the jukebox.
Sophie reaches over the table and grabs her hand. Joey thinks she’s about to relent and tell her she believes her. But instead, she lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh my god. That’s Cal Pierce.TheCal Pierce. And is that Nicola Bianco? She’s so gorgeous in real life. I thought this was a little indie film. I didn’t realize there would be actual celebrities here.” She spins around to glare at Elena, as if she has some explaining to do. Joey’s hope deflates.
Elena doesn’t look at them when she replies. Instead, her eyes are locked on someone. At first Joey thinks it’s Gael, but he’s on the opposite side of the bar.
“I didn’t know who the actors were,” Elena says, distracted. “I just knew the director.” Then she stands. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Without waiting for a response, she walks over to Gael and tells him something. He nods without looking away from his game, and Elena turns to the crowd of people, drink in hand, where she transforms into someone completely new. She’s suddenly magnetic, flashing a warm smile and pushing her long black hair over one shoulder as she introduces herself. The people she’s speaking to laugh pleasantly as if she’s just said something clever.
Irritated, she turns to Sophie, who seems to have clocked her change in temperature. Sophie gets that pitying look on her face again. “You okay?”
This gives her an extra jolt of frustration. Even empathetic Sophie doesn’t believe her. She offers a conciliatory nod, even though she is not okay. Sophie’s phone begins to vibrate.
Joey watches as, without hesitation, Sophie grabs the phone, holds it up in front of her and swipes at the screen. Over the din of the music and voices in the bar, Joey can hear a crackle of a voice come through. “Hi! How’s home?” Then, before Sophie can answer, an adorable shout follows it. “Mama!”
Joey has never seen anyone’s face do what Sophie’s does now. She beams with genuine, unfiltered joy and is somehow also close to tears. “Hi, baby.”
Joey is suddenly self-conscious witnessing this private family moment. She stands up. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she mouths and gives Sophie a quick wave, but Sophie barely looks away from the screen as she raises a hand back toward her. On her way out, Joey walks by Gael, who is expertly roundhouse kicking his opponent, completelyconsumed by the old-school graphics. Elena sits on a barstool across from him, leaning into a small circle of people and gesturing emphatically. Joey doesn’t say goodbye.
It’s only when she reaches the door that she realizes what Sophie’s wife asked her. She didn’t ask,“How’s Whisper Ridge?”She asked,“How’s home?”
Strange that even after all this time, Sophie would still call this place home. But this isn’t her home anymore. It’s not Elena’s home either. They’ve outgrown this place; they’ve outgrown her. Joey is alone.
Finding the truth about what happened to Quinn may not be a living, breathing thing, but it is all she has.
9Quinn
February 2011
Four months before the fall
I need new hiking boots.
My left heel has lost its traction, and my foot slips every few steps. There’s some snow on the ground, and if it wasn’tourtrail, it would be closed this time of year.
Joey’s up ahead. She cuts through the winter air with her breath billowing and her sleek dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. I watch the sharp outline of her calves, visible under her long, tight running pants, as she takes on the trail with her usual vigor. She’s quiet, but I know her mind is going a million miles a minute. I’ll have to ask her about the hiking boots. She’ll know which pair I should get. She’s the gear girl.
Elena strides just in front of me, head bent toward a flip phone. “Oh my god,” she says, cackling. “Tanner sent another one.” Elena, the queen of the universe. She’s not heartless, despite what everyone says. She’s just herself all the time and doesn’t care what people think. Never has.
Elena holds out the phone behind her, and I cover my face with my hands. I know what it is without looking—a dick pic—and it’s one image I do not need to see. Behind me, Sophie adjusts her beanie and turns away. She stops to watch a rabbit hop over the snow and dartbetween the trees, and I know she’s deliberately making space between herself and the image on the phone. Tanner McGrath has made her cry enough times that I don’t imagine a picture of his penis is on her list of things to see this morning. Unlike Elena, Sophie does care what people think—and say and feel. She is the kind of friend who will listen as you divulge your deepest fears and share her Red Bull with you between classes. She is all heart.
“We have the book, right?” Joey asks.
I reach behind me and give my pack a squeeze. “Of course.” I pinch the familiar edges of the book and am, as always, exhilarated to be the keeper of secrets. To be the one who knows that things aren’t always what they seem.
After our initiation, the four of us became as inseparable as vines. We’d been friends before, but after that day, we were always sneaking out to do magic, obsessed with our new power. We used illusion spells to change the color of my hair every few months. When Joey sprained her ankle in volleyball, we healed it. When Elena couldn’t remember where she put her cigarettes, we summoned them.
Above us now, clouds wrestle overhead, threatening to douse the world in snow.
“I can’t believe I got a C,” says Sophie, who walks alongside me again.
Elena laughs. “You know a C is average, right?”
