demand, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You can’t really believe in a curse,” I say.
Kylie lifts a shoulder as if to say yes, she can. “It’s not a matter of believing, Kenzie. Two girls are dead by freak accidents.”
“Or not,” I say.
“This is what happens,” she says, her voice low. “This is how it works.”
Seven sets of horrified eyes are the only answer to that.
“There’s a curse on the list,” Kylie whispers. “Chloe told us everything Saturday night.”
“And are you going to tell us?” Dena asks.
“As much as we can—”
A chorus of arguments rises, and Kylie holds out her hand until we’re quiet again.
“Amanda and I were sworn to secrecy.”
“Well, screw secrecy,” Dena mutters to a round of agreement.
“We can’t. That’s part of the history of the curse. She shouldn’t have told us.” The pain in her eyes intensifies. “If she hadn’t, maybe she’d still be alive.”
“What?” I practically spit the word. “This is ridiculous. There are cops arresting kids and two girls are dead and you think there’s some kind of ancient curse?” I feel like my head’s going to explode.
“It’s not ancient,” Amanda says. “It started with the list in 1984.”
“And girls have been dying ever since then? And, like, no one noticed?” I can’t keep the disbelief out of my voice. “This isn’t a campfire game, you guys. This isn’t some sorority hazing joke.”
Kylie takes a step forward and levels me with one hell of a frightening look. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m third. I’m next.”
“Then you should talk to the police and get help.”
There’s a catch in Kylie’s voice as she says, “That’s the last thing I want to do. That’s why all these girls have died.”
“What?” The question comes from several other girls, but I’m still staring at her, processing this.
“Who’s died besides Olivia and Chloe?” I demand. “All the seniors from last year are fine. And no one died when we were freshmen.” Except … I shake off the thought. I will not let Conner’s death into this conversation. They’ll turn it into some sign from the list gods or something.
“Trust me,” I continue. “If teenage girls were getting killed on a regular basis and they all were on the same list, don’t you think 60 Minutes or Dateline would be in here in a heartbeat sniffing a story?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Kylie says. “It’s not always teenage girls who die. Sometimes grown women who’ve been on the list have accidents. Sometimes it happens when they’re in college. Some years no one dies. But every time, it’s an accident—always accidents, and always girls, or women, who’ve been on the list.”
“Accidents happen to other people, too,” I say softly.
But she and Amanda are having none of it, shaking their heads.
“And no one has investigated this?” I ask, incredulity rocking me to the core.
“There’s nothing to investigate, Kenzie,” Amanda insists. “There’s no murder. There’s no crime. There’s no killer when it’s an accident.”
Just like Conner. No one had investigated his death; it was ruled an accident. No one had ever asked why he’d gone to the storeroom and no one had ever found my necklace and added two and two together to get … guilt. Who knows better than I do that sometimes there is guilt even when there is no crime?
“Every single person who’s ever died after she’s been on the list was killed in an accident,” Kylie tells us. “Not one has ever been murdered. Ever. No foul play, no investigation, no open case. Accidents.”
“How do you know that?” Shannon asks.
“I just do,” Kylie says, relying on a favorite answer of teenage girls who actually know nothing.
Candace makes a sound as though she’s thinking the same thing. “How much of this did Chloe know before she died?”
“A lot,” Kylie says. “And she shouldn’t have told us or she might still be alive.”
“Does the curse always kill in order?” Bree asks, earning a disgusted sigh from Dena.
“This has never happened before.” Amanda crosses her arms and looks at me. “But this is the thirtieth year.”
So we’ve heard. “And that means what?” I ask, tamping down every imaginable emotion and frustration at this insanity.
“It means this year might be different,” Kylie answers. “This year might be everyone on the list.”
“We’re all going to die?” Ashleigh shrieks.
“Or it might not,” Amanda says. “You know what Chloe said.”
“What did she say?” About six of us ask in perfect unison.
Kylie waves us all in closer, putting her arms around Amanda and Candace, forming a huddle.