Deep Betrayal Page 0,32

he pulled me under the waves again.

12

DATE NIGHT

Two days later, just after dinner, I stood in the upstairs hallway, wondering what smelled so rank. From the top of the stairs I could see my room and bedding strewn across the floor. Laundry—dirty and clean all mixed together—lay in heaps among books and crumpled paper balls. Although I didn’t want to admit it, I thought I’d found the source.

“Are you going to strip your sheets?” Mom called up the stairs. “I’ll do a load if you bring it down.”

“Maybe we should burn it all,” I yelled back, entering the pit of shame.

“Don’t be so dramatic. If you want new bedding when you leave for college, we can think about a bonfire then.”

College. Right. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d bought the obligatory U of M sweatshirt six months ago, as soon as I got my acceptance letter. That was about the extent of my planning.

I bent over and searched under the bed. Ah, the source of the stank. “Who left a tuna fish sandwich under my bed? Sophie?”

“Not me,” she yelled from her room. “I don’t like tuna fish.”

“That’s disgusting, Lily! Bring it down to the kitchen. I just finished scraping the dinner dishes. I’ll take the trash out.”

“No, I got it, Mom.” I carried the plate to the kitchen, dumped the sandwich in the trash, and sealed the bag, holding my breath the whole time.

“Well, there go my plans for tomorrow,” Mom said from the living room.

I dropped the plastic bag outside on the porch.

“What’s that?”

Mom put her phone on the coffee table. “Sophie’s Girl Scout leader just called to cancel our swim outing for tomorrow. Apparently they’re reporting more rip currents. Nearly drowned another kayaker. That’s two this week.”

I stared at her wordlessly. Two kayak accidents? How had I not heard that? Calder was probably just sparing me the guilt trip. If Maris was starting a binge already, it was my fault. If I’d done what I was told and stuck to the house … Or maybe Calder didn’t know. We hadn’t seen much of him or Dad since they started looking for Maris. Obviously they hadn’t found her yet.

“They’re sure it’s just rip currents?” I asked, working to keep my voice calm.

“Just? Isn’t that bad enough? I want you to tell your friends to stay off the water. What’s so funny? I’m serious.”

“If you haven’t noticed, Mom, I’m not exactly deep in friends here. Second, we live on a freakin’ lake.”

“Watch your language.”

“Gabrielle’s here,” Sophie yelled from upstairs.

“Did you know she was coming?” I asked Mom.

She shrugged. “Guess you’ve got a friend after all. Tell her to stay off the lake.”

Gabby knocked at the door by kicking it with her foot. I opened it for her, and she came in—arms loaded with a pink, plastic toolbox and an overflowing shopping bag. “Ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?”

Gabby jerked her head in the direction of the stairs, and I followed her up to my room. She dropped her bag on my bedroom floor and turned. “Humor me. I need a serious distraction from my nightmare of a brother.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s Summer Tuesdays, which is cool by itself, but it’s your first real date with the hottest guy in town. I’m here to help.” Gabby went to my tiny closet and started digging.

“Who told you tha—?”

“You can’t wear just anything,” Gabby said, “and if I recall … yep, there’s nothing in here that’s going to work.” She didn’t mask her disgust. “God, where do you shop?”

“Minneapolis,” I said, “and I can guarantee you there are more options there than up here.”

“Duh. That’s my point. You lived in a shopping Mecca your whole life, and this is what you came up with? It looks like you raided the Goodwill bin.”

“Some of it,” I said with a shrug.

Gabby groaned. “Other people wore this stuff? Do you have any idea how many pounds of dead skin cells you’re dealing with?”

“It’s all been washed,” I said, ripping my army jacket out of her hands.

“And don’t get me going on other people’s sweat stains.”

“I only buy the good pieces.”

She ignored me. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out for you. If all else fails you can borrow something of mine.”

Now I was worried. I glanced at her shopping bag and noted several pieces of lace and Lycra. “I don’t know, Gabby. All those Pettit skin cells …”

“Shut up.” She dug deep into the back of the closet and popped open the cardboard box I kept