to my room. I couldn’t face her or my brother after coming to the realization that I had arranged to get drugs for Willow and her friends. What was I thinking?
That’s why I’m in my room, hiding out, praying that all this will magically disappear. Because remembering what happened no longer seems like a good option. I’m afraid—afraid of what else I’ll learn about myself and the actions I took leading up to that fateful night. And yet I know I have to push on and try to recall the events that took place. If not for me, then for Willow.
My father said a body had been found. I search my phone and discover that the police haven’t made a positive identification yet. I don’t know why, but my gut tells me it’s not Willow. Should that cause me alarm? Do I know what happened? I’m assuming I would have spoken up if I did. But for some reason, I didn’t.
* * *
We stood across from each other at the kitchen island. Outside, Dakota was waiting to meet me. Willow couldn’t quite believe it when I told her I’d gotten the drugs. She peered into the manila envelope filled with the twenty-five Mollies. I had no idea what a Molly was or what it did to a person, and I had no desire to find out. It amazed me that Dakota didn’t blink when I told him I needed eight hundred dollars up front for the drugs. He claimed that we’d make ten bucks off every pill sold at the party. I told him to keep it, as I didn’t want to profit off any drug sales. Then I gave him the name and number of the person who had sold the drugs to me, explaining that I had no intention of ever doing that again.
Willow walked around the kitchen island and hugged me, and just like that we became best friends again. But I felt ashamed and scared about what I’d done in order to fit in with the Harper’s Point crowd. I knew I should have run from Willow and never looked back. What if the police found out? Would I go to jail? Facing my mother would be even worse. She’d be devastated to learn that her perfect daughter was nothing more than a party girl and common drug dealer. And yet the sad part was, I knew I didn’t want to be Drew’s girlfriend anymore. I’d cast my lot with these rich kids and discovered, to my shame, that I rather enjoyed their company. It made me feel shallow and empty to admit this, but it was true.
I ran outside to meet up with Dakota. He quickly kissed me on the lips before I had a chance to say anything. His warm breath cut through the cold March day. I loved his jet-black hair and the way it naturally parted to the side, and how his longish bangs swept over his forehead. He possessed a thin waist that tapered up to broad shoulders, reminding me a bit of that kid in the Twilight movie. His eyes were the darkest of browns, like my mother’s morning coffee. After taking the envelope from me, he ran out to the street and jumped into his army-green Jeep.
I went back inside Willow’s home, my insides swimming with emotions. The party was to start in a few hours. Willow busied herself by helping her mother put away all the food they’d ordered. Her father peered through the camera, filming everything and asking all kinds of questions, orbiting around us like a satellite. It made me feel self-conscious and weird, but I was getting used to seeing him behind the lens. I sensed a layer of tension between mother and daughter, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the cause. They argued a lot, which was probably typical of mother-and-daughter relationships. But their bickering had taken on a darker edge today. Only when Willow’s father came between them did the two stop talking.
I sat at the massive kitchen island and quietly observed their family dynamics. I felt invisible around them. Gil’s iPad sat on the table, continuously streaming footage of his most recent shoot. They didn’t seem to care that I was privy to their dirty laundry. It was like I was one of those servants in my mother’s favorite show, Downton Abbey, walking through the bedroom and picking up dirty clothes while the owners of the manor lounged about in