She reaches for my hand while Riley takes the other one. Together with Grace we form a semicircle around Brooklyn. I don’t want to look at her, but I don’t have a choice, so I lift my eyes.
A sweaty strand of white-blond hair hangs over Brooklyn’s face, fluttering around her nose every time she exhales. Thick black eyeliner runs down her cheeks like tears. I tighten my grip on Riley’s hand. We just have to get through the exorcism. This could still be okay.
“We have to be right with God before we can begin,” Alexis explains. Brooklyn shifts her combat boot–covered foot. The sole screeches over the concrete floor. “If we want him to drive the demon away, we have to confess our own sins and ask for his forgiveness.”
An uneasy silence stretches between us, broken only by the flames licking the candlewicks. I’m not sure I want to know their sins.
“I guess I’ll go first,” Grace says, fumbling with her sweatshirt zipper. She stares at her sneakers while she speaks, like she’s telling her story to them instead of us. “I need a scholarship in order to afford a good college, so I have to get perfect grades. Calculus has been kicking my butt, though, and last week I stole some of my little brother’s Ritalin. He has ADD, and the pills are supposed to help him concentrate. I figured they’d be good for studying.”
“Oh, Grace,” Riley says. “Why didn’t you tell us you were struggling?”
“I was embarrassed,” she says, dropping her hand from her zipper. “It was just once. They helped get me through the test, but I felt woozy the whole time. I’m never taking them again.”
Riley matches Grace’s gaze as she lifts her head. “Good.”
Wind presses against the tiny, rectangular window near the basement ceiling, making the glass groan. Yesterday Grace’s confession might have shocked me, but in light of everything else, pill popping is pretty tame.
“Your turn,” Riley says, nodding at Alexis.
Alexis drops Grace’s hand and weaves a strand of her long, blond hair around a finger. She turns to me as she begins, “Riley and Grace already know this, but my older sister, Carly, has been in the hospital for the past several months. What should be her best year as a senior she’s spending in a coma, all because she accidentally ate one little peanut.” Alexis’s accent deepens as she speaks, and she pauses in all the right places, as if she’s told this story many times before. She whispers the word coma like it’s too painful to say out loud.
Riley clears her throat. “That isn’t your fault, Lexie,” she says.
Alexis winds the blond curl tighter and tighter around her finger. “It’s not that. I should be sad all the time, but I’m just . . . not.” The candlelight flickers, reflecting in Alexis’s wide, dark eyes. “Things have been easier with her gone,” she continues. “I don’t have to compete with her, and we don’t fight anymore. There are days I wish she’d never wake up.”
“But she’s your sister,” Grace says.
“I know,” Alexis says. I can tell Alexis feels tortured by the way her voice has started to shake. But still, there’s something that feels off about her confession. “I pray for forgiveness every day. God knows I want Carly to be okay.”
Grace nods, but her mouth twists in disgust. What kind of person wishes her own sister would stay in a coma?
“We forgive you, Lexie,” Riley assures her. “Carly will wake up before you know it, and you’ll be happy to have her back. I’m sure of it.”
The wind rises to a howl. Grace gives Alexis an uneasy smile, and Alexis exhales in relief.
“I’ll go next,” Riley says. She squares her shoulders and deliberately softens her eyes. “I always told you Josh and I were waiting for marriage, but, well, this summer at the lake house things got a little out of control.”
“Seriously?” Grace’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Yeah, how out of control?” Alexis adds.
“We didn’t go all the way, but we got close. I stopped him before we went too far. But sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t. It’s probably my fault that . . .” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, unable to finish her sentence. She lifts the bottle of wine to her lips, closing her eyes as she takes a drink. Lowering it, she whispers, “Forgive me, Lord.”
Another silence stretches between us, this one charged. Alexis squeezes my hand so tightly my fingers go numb, and Grace glares at her sneakers, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Riley nudges me. “Sof? Your turn now. You can tell us anything.”
I stare at the floor as their eyes settle on me. I’d been so distracted by their stories I almost forgot I had to share my own. My skin prickles, and the memory unfolds in my head before I can say a word.
• • •
I slide onto my bar stool in biology class and slip a Q-tip into a sandwich bag, writing the label with a Sharpie. I’m hunched over the table when something pokes me in the head.
“Hey!” I say, turning around. Erin stands behind me, a Q-tip in her hand. She’s wearing a leather tank top with a V-neck so low it’s impossible for her to wear a bra.
“Lila and I have a bet going on what the germiest thing in the classroom’s going to be,” Erin says, dropping the Q-tip into a sandwich bag. “My money’s on your greasy-ass hair.”
She doesn’t laugh, but the students behind her giggle and snicker into their hands. I glance at Karen, who’s standing across the room with Lila. She doesn’t look as amused as everyone else, but she stares at her shoes and doesn’t say a word.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I know the worst thing I can do is cry. Instead I push back my stool and walk, quickly, from the room. By the time I get to the hallway my shoulders shake, and it’s all I can do to hold back the sobs. I hear them laughing behind me. The sound echoes in my head.
• • •
“Sof?” Riley’s voice brings me back to the present, and my eyes flicker open.
Alexis touches my arm. “It’s okay, we’re here for you.”
I swallow, shaking the memory away. Almost without realizing it, I start picking at the skin around my cuticles.
“I didn’t fit in at my last school. There were these girls in my science class who always made fun of me. And . . .” I bite off the end of my sentence, not sure how to finish. Riley nudges me with her shoulder.
“And what?”
I pull at the skin around my thumbnail. “I got into a fight with one of them,” I lie. “She had to go to the hospital.”
I wish that was what happened, and I remember Grandmother telling me you can sin with your thoughts—that thinking something is almost as bad as actually doing it. If that’s true, I’ve sinned as badly as the rest of them. I really wanted to punch Erin.
“Oh, Sofia.” Riley steps in front of me, grabbing my shoulders. She pulls me into a hug, running a hand along the back of my head. “You must’ve felt so alone,” she says, quietly enough that I’m sure I’m the only one who can hear her. “But you’re with us now,” Riley continues. “Right where you’re supposed to be.”
For a second it’s easy to forget the real reason we’re here and that Brooklyn is tied up in the corner. Then Riley squeezes me, and her embrace is just tight enough that I can’t tell whether it’s meant to be comforting—or a warning. When she pulls away she doesn’t look at me again. Instead she turns to Brooklyn, her eyes narrowed.
“We’ve all humbled ourselves before God,” she says, taking a few steps forward. She kneels on the floor again, this time so close that her knees press against Brooklyn’s frayed jeans.
“What about you?” Riley grabs the duct tape covering Brooklyn’s mouth and tears it away. Brooklyn gasps, and her head lolls down to her chest. I cringe at the angry red stripe left across her face.