“What?” I stick another spoonful of Nutella and caramel corn in my mouth to cover my embarrassment. “There’s no me and Charlie,” I say, swallowing.
“Oh please. I saw the way you undressed his photo with your eyes.” Riley collapses onto a pile of pillows and lifts the wine bottle to her mouth again. “You want him.”
“Does Sofia have a crush already?” Alexis asks.
“It’s not a crush,” I insist, heat creeping up my neck with every word. “I just . . .like his arms.”
Alexis falls back onto the pillows, laughing, and Grace makes kissy noises at me as I hand over the spoon and Nutella.
“My, what fabulous taste you have. Charlie’s a ten.” Riley smoothes her dress down over her thighs. “I could probably make that happen for you. If you wanted.”
“Make that happen?” I say. “We’re not dogs. You can’t throw us in a room and hope we mate.”
“Can’t I?” Riley fixes those pale blue eyes on me, and I immediately realize how wrong I am. Riley clearly gets whatever she wants, no matter how insane it sounds.
“Wait a second,” Grace says. “How come I never got this offer with Tom?”
“Tom doesn’t know what the hell he wants, Gray. You could do so much better. But Charlie . . . Charlie I could work with.”
Riley pushes herself to her knees and leans forward, brushing the back of her hand against my cheek. “And just look at Sofia. Isn’t she completely gorgeous? She was made to have someone fall insanely in love with her.”
My skin tingles where Riley touches it. Her words spark something inside me. I picture Charlie sliding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. I feel the heat of his lips against mine, and my body tightens with want. My past boyfriends have always been more of the fumble-around-in-the-dark variety. There was never any talk of love.
I shake my head, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m confused—I thought Charlie was friends with Brooklyn.”
Riley frowns, staring at me over the top of the wine bottle. “Why would you think that?”
“No reason, really. He just said hi to her in the lunch line yesterday.”
Alexis’s lips move as she counts the kernels of popcorn in her hand. “That boy is too nice for his own good,” she mutters.
“We all used to be friends, you know,” Riley says. “Brooklyn, too.”
“I would once again like to point out that this was BG,” Grace says. “Before Grace. Otherwise known as the Dark Ages.”
“It’s also before Brooklyn started dressing like an Urban Outfitters catalog,” Riley adds, fingering the hem of her dress. “She used to be really sweet, but once we started high school, she just . . . changed.”
I think of the way Brooklyn narrowed her eyes at Riley in the cafeteria, aiming an imaginary gun at her head. “Why?”
“No one knows.” Riley spins the wine bottle with her fingertips, leaving a red ring behind on the floor. She picks it up and passes it to Alexis. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s a cry for help. Like maybe God wants us to save her. But we’ve all tried to talk to her, and she won’t listen. I think there’s just too much history between us.”
“She was even horrible to Grace,” Alexis says, passing me the wine bottle. “And she barely knows her.”
“She was okay to me,” I say. I let the wine roll over my tongue, holding it in my mouth.
“Really?” Grace asks.
I shrug. “I mean, we didn’t paint each other’s nails or anything, but she gave me a Band-Aid.”
Alexis snickers. “Can you imagine doing your nails with Brooklyn? I bet every bottle of polish she owns is black.”
Alexis giggles even harder, but Riley suddenly sits up straight.
“Wait a second. Maybe you should,” she says. There’s a manic, excited light in her pale eyes—and she’s aiming them right at me. “Hang out with Brooklyn, I mean. I don’t think she’s seen you with us yet. You can find out why she’s such a bitch now.”
“You want me to spy on her?” I ask.
“Come on, Ri, don’t ask her to do that.” Grace throws a piece of popcorn at Riley. “It’s weird.”
“I guess it does sound like spying.” Riley’s shoulders slump. “Sorry, Sof, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking it’d be cool if we could help her.”
“Right, of course,” I say, but the idea sticks in my head. I chose Riley and her friends over Brooklyn, and I definitely prefer Nutella and red wine over animal mutilation and locker room séances. Still, I wonder what Brooklyn’s really like.
Suddenly, Alexis sits up, dropping the rest of her caramel corn on the floor.
“Guys, let’s do something else,” she says, wiping the popcorn dust coating her fingers onto one of the sleeping bags. “Sofia’s going to think that all we do is sit around and gossip about Brooklyn.”
“Speak for yourself,” Grace says. “I barely even knew that psycho.”
“Hand me that.” Alexis points to the wine bottle I’m still holding, and I pass it to her. She takes a deep drink. “Okay, so this is a game Ri and I used to play all the time when we were kids. It’s called concentration.”
“Ugh! No.” Riley groans, making a face. “That game is so stupid, Lexie.”
“Shut up. It’s perfect,” Alexis says. “Come on, Grace. I’ll do you first.”
Grace crawls over to Alexis and sits in front of her, clenching her eyes shut. Alexis knocks on the top of her head, then slides her fingers over the back of her neck and shoulders. Grace snickers.
“After I finish speaking, you will be put into a trance,” Alexis continues, walking her fingers up and down Grace’s spine. “This trance will allow you to see the most important moment of your life, past or present.”
“Oh, god,” I groan. Riley laughs through her clenched lips.
“Shut up,” Alexis says. “This is totally scientific.”
“Ignore them. I’m ready,” Grace says.
“Good. Now concentrate,” Alexis whispers. She knife-chops her hands against Grace’s back and kneads her fingers against her neck and shoulders. Grace’s head drops in relaxation, and her eyes close. “What do you see?”
“I see . . .” Grace sways back in forth. Her eyelids flicker, and her lips part in a faint smile. “I see a beach. It’s long and white. Stretched out in front of it is the most beautiful, sparkling blue ocean.”
“Good,” Alexis whispers. “What else?”
Grace’s smile fades. “I’m not alone,” she says. There’s a chill in her voice now. I shiver. “There’s someone there. Someone I can’t see.”
“Turn around,” Alexis says. Grace nods. She stops swaying, and her whole body goes rigid. “Look at who’s standing behind you, Grace. Now . . . describe him to me.”
Grace’s eyes shoot open.
“It’s Tom,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “He’s spread out across a beach towel, shirtless. He wants to help rub suntan lotion on my back.”
Alexis smacks Grace on the arm, and Grace snorts with laughter. “Loser,” Alexis says, smiling. “Okay, who’s next? Riley?”
Riley takes another drink of wine, shaking her head. “No way. I’m protesting.”
Alexis rolls her eyes. “Sofia, then. Come on.”
“Fine,” I say, cracking a smile. I slide over to Alexis, and she sits up on her knees, putting her hands on my arms. She digs her knuckles into my shoulders, then drags her fingers down my back.
“Concentrate,” she whispers as I close my eyes. “Listen to the sound of my voice. . . .”
With my eyes closed, I notice how warm it is in this room. Heat hovers around my skin and presses against my arms. I sway a little, then release a bubbling giggle. I’m a lightweight—the wine has already made me drunk.
Alexis’s fingers dig into my back, and I try not to laugh again. It tickles. The other girls have gone silent. I want to open my eyes and see what they’re doing, but my eyelids are so heavy. My mind spins. Jesus, how much wine did I have? I’m starting to feel dizzy. . . .