Envy

expected it to be.

“I guess so,” she said. “I guess we must. Where’s Dad? Shouldn’t you be downstairs fighting with him?”

Sandra wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying to convey that she was freezing or maybe a little vulnerable.

In reality, Katelyn was sure that her mother was merely trying to steady herself. She’d overdone it, like she always did.

“What are you doing online?” her mom asked. Sandra put her hand on the laptop, but Katelyn flicked it away.

“Homework. What do you think?”

“Don’t get lippy with me,” she said.

Katelyn let out a sigh. It was exaggerated, but with her mom drinking too much, emotions sometimes had to be painted with very, very broad strokes. It was the only way to ensure that something, anything, got through her mother’s alcohol-induced haze.

“I’m not lippy,” Katelyn said. “I’m just tired, Mom. Tired of you not trusting me.”

The images faded and Hayley fought hard to hold on to what she was “seeing.”

Suddenly Sandra reappeared. This time she was wearing jeans and a sweater, and her hair was clipped back from her face. She was angry and she stood to leave. “I won’t ever trust you after what you did last fall.”

She spun on her heel, shot her own glare in the direction of her daughter, and left the bedroom.

Katelyn sat there seething.

Last fall. There would always be that to throw in her face.

TAYLOR CAME INTO THE KITCHEN to get a post-hanging-outwith-Beth snack. A slice of cold leftover Hawaiian pizza sounded good just then. And since she was the only one in the house who’d eat it, there were always leftovers for her. She glanced over at her sister and the empty water glass.

“Hoped and focused?” she asked, a little more quietly than needed. They were, after all, home alone. “Anything?”

Hayley looked up and nodded. “Yeah, although I’m not sure what it means or if it really has anything to do with Katelyn’s death.”

Taylor took her pizza from the refrigerator, grabbed a too-long streamer of paper towels, and slid into a chair facing Hayley.

“Whatcha get?”

Hayley drew a deep breath and exhaled. She was wiped out from the experience of seeing the conversation play out over Katelyn’s laptop.

“She had an online hookup,” Hayley said. “Did you know that?”

Taylor picked at an errant piece of pineapple and shook her head. “Who?”

“I have no idea,” Hayley said. “It felt kind of deep, kind of personal.”

“Personal how?”

“Katelyn seemed really interested in him. She was really happy. It was like that boy was the only thing that lifted her heart. I didn’t get all the information. Her mom interrupted them.”

Taylor nodded. “Her mother is the worst.”

“Her mother’s mother is, that’s for sure,” Hayley said, remembering the visit with the family after Katelyn died.

Hayley closed her eyes and tried to replay the last part of what she’d felt.

Taylor was impatient, something she was pretty good at being. “Well?”

“Give me a second, okay?” Hayley said.

Though Hayley kept her eyes shut, Taylor could see them move back and forth under their clamped lids. She finished her pizza and wondered when Hayley had started to wear that hideous frosted slate-gray eye shadow, but she didn’t say anything. She waited. Not everything could be rushed to meet the schedule of a ticking clock.

Hayley opened her eyes. “Something happened last fall,” she said. “I’m not sure what it was, but it was something big. Her mom said she had ‘trust’ issues with Katelyn.”

“Like what? What did she do?”

“I have no idea. She didn’t say, and I didn’t get anything to point us in the right direction—except a reference to last fall.”

“Last fall?”

“Yeah. They said something about last fall,” Hayley repeated.

“What happened? Where was she in the fall?”

“I can’t really think of anything. We didn’t see her much. Remember, she and Starla were always practicing for cheer?”

Taylor nodded. “Ugh, I hated that. With a passion. We could hear them jumping up and down and yelling from our backyard.”

“That’s right,” Hayley said. “I remember it was intense.”

“Maybe it was related to cheer?”

“I doubt it, but there’s one person who might know.”

Taylor gave her sister a knowing look.

Starla Larsen—Port Gamble’s It Girl. She’d be worth a visit. It would have to be at her house, not at school. Since she had picked up her pom-poms, Starla was too cool to acknowledge any of the old Daisy troop girls she’d known forever.

They were a step way too low on the popularity ladder.

LATER THAT EVENING, TAYLOR’S PHONE VIBRATED with a text from Beth.

BETH: SAW WEIRDO OVER BY K’S HOUSE.

Port Gamble was not a big town, but it had plenty of weirdos.

TAYLOR: WOT WEIRDO?

BETH: SEGWAY GUY.

TAYLOR: WOT WZ HE DOING?

BETH: DUNNO. SEGWAYING. LYK HE DZ. HE GIVES ME THE CREEPS.

TAYLOR: MY DAD CHECKED HIM OUT. HARMLESS CREEP.

BETH: PERV.

TAYLOR: NT A PERV.

BETH: HE JUST HOVERS ROUND THERE. Y?

TAYLOR: WOT IF HE WAS K’S FAKE BF?

BETH: THAT’S REALLY GROSS. HE’S LYK 40.

Segway Guy was closer to fifty, but Taylor let it go. One of Beth’s fortes was her ability to exaggerate everything.

Even so, Taylor did think Segway Guy was a little creepy. Seriously, riding around in a Segway without at least a little irony about the spectacle?

chapter 13

TAYLOR RYAN FILLED THE OLD WHITE CLAWFOOT TUB with too much water, nearly sending a small wave over its rolled edges. Since childhood, she always wanted the water as deep as possible—deep enough to dive down and hold her breath. One, two, three. Her record was 177 seconds. Her sister’s was about the same. She was fifteen now, and getting into the water on that night had nothing to do with trying to set a new record. Hayley had tried to find out more about Katelyn’s death, and Taylor wanted to dip her toe into these waters herself.

Literally.

The air in the bathroom was cool, and the steam from the bathwater collided with the mirror. Taylor noticed the circular motions she’d left on the surface of the glass the last time she’d been stuck with bathroomcleaning duty. She undressed, folded her favorite MEK jeans, pale pink cami, and cream-colored merino wool sweater into a neatly squared stack on top of the toilet seat. Slowly, she stepped into the hot depths of the bathtub. Her hair, no longer as blonde as it had been in the summer, was pulled back in a messy ponytail. As she slid down to cover her