And then there were two, I think as Aubrey takes Donald’s arm.
She peers into the open door. “I think Milly is already here….”
“She is. I put her at the end of a crowded pew. She said she was alone.”
“Okay,” Aubrey says, her mouth settling into a thin line. We walk through the church vestibule and down the center aisle; we’re a lot closer to the front than I would have thought we’d be after showing up this late. An organ plays softly in the background, but our footsteps still echo loudly. A girl in the first pew turns at the sound, and I recognize Hazel Baxter-Clement. I nod and give her a tight-lipped grimace of sympathy, and she smiles faintly. Donald finally stops, gesturing toward a pew where four black-clad people shift to their right to make room for us.
“Thanks,” Aubrey whispers, releasing his arm. “And—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that you lost your friend.”
“He’s at peace now,” Donald says in a low voice, his face grave. “And in the end that’s all that any of us can ask for, isn’t it?”
Allison took stock of herself in her bedroom mirror. She looked better than she had in a while, but then again, almost everybody looked better in a ball gown and diamonds. She’d been worried about wearing white when she was so pale, but something about this particular shade—the shimmering blue white of snow on top of a frozen lake—brought color back to her cheeks.
She’d had no trouble zipping the dress up and immediately thought, See? I haven’t put on any weight. I can’t be pregnant. Then her traitorous brain reminded her that her period was still weeks overdue, and that her stomach wouldn’t stop rolling with unfamiliar queasiness.
She didn’t know for sure, though. The test she’d stolen from Mugg’s Pharmacy sat unopened beneath a pile of sweaters in her closet. She was going to get through the Summer Gala tonight and then, finally, she’d take it.
Probably.
“Knock-knock!” came a cheerful voice at her door, accompanied by a loud rap on the wood. “You decent?”
“Yes. Come in,” Allison said. The door opened to reveal Archer in a tux, his bow tie already loosened. He grinned when he caught sight of her.
“Don’t you look fancy. Nice diamonds. Hey, guess what I found?” Archer let himself in and closed the door behind him, brandishing a green and gold bottle in one hand. “Dom Pérignon got separated from his friends.”
Allison frowned, her stomach filled with the now-familiar nausea at the thought of drinking anything alcoholic. “Can’t you wait till we get there?”
“You know what they say about a dream deferred,” Archer said. When she didn’t reply, he added, “It dries up like a raisin in the sun. Or festers—”
“I get it,” Allison snapped. “I took English composition with Ms. Hermann too, remember? All I’m saying is, maybe for once this summer, you could show enough restraint that you don’t make a fool of yourself or pass out before midnight. Or both.”
“Ouch,” Archer said, looking hurt.
“Mother spent a lot of time planning the gala, you know. It’s practically the only thing that’s made her even a little happy this summer. So how about you try not to ruin it?”
“I’m not ruining anything. God. Next time, a simple no thanks will do.” Archer shot her a reproachful look, and Allison was instantly sorry. She had no reason to lash out at her youngest brother like that. And no excuse, other than that she was a ball of jangled nerves every second of every day. That wasn’t Archer’s fault, though.
“I just meant—” she started, but Archer was already halfway through the door.
“Never mind. Message received. Dom and I know when we’re not wanted.”
Allison sighed and let him go. She didn’t know what to say anyway.
When she’d touched up her lip gloss as many times as she could stand, she left her bedroom and started down the hallway. As always lately, she was drawn to a door she usually avoided. She rapped lightly on the frame, and Anders’s impatient voice called, “Come in.”
He was fully dressed except for his tuxedo jacket, and the bow tie that he was working on while standing in front of the full-length mirror across from his bed. Allison’s reflection caught his eye, and he raised one sardonic eyebrow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Allison closed the door and sat on the edge of Anders’s bed. “I’m just restless.”