“Liana?” the supervisor calls.

Liana pushes to her feet. “Coming.” She pauses at the door and pivots around. Our eyes meet and hold. Instinctively, I cover up my exposed areas—or try to.

After she’s gone, I feel heat swelling from every pore, exposed and otherwise. She’s hot. Very hot.

I get dressed and take the lingerie out front and see that Liana’s busy with inventory or something. The supervisor’s at the cash register and I say to her, “I’ll take this.” I hand her my Visa, which I’m only supposed to use for necessities.

As I’m leaving the store, I stop behind Liana and watch her punch a number on her calculator. I say, “Thanks for your help, miss.”

She turns and glances down at the bag. “You’re getting it?”

“Everyone over eighty needs a merry widow.”

She laughs. All the way home the resonance of her laughter radiates through me.

My persuasive paper is due tomorrow and all I’ve written so far is the title. Typically, before Swanee, I never put off assignments, unlike normal people. My MO is to obsess over unfinished business.

I set my laptop aside and lie back on my pillow. To think. Concentrate.

Liana might not be home from work yet. It’s only, what? Seven thirty? Maybe she’s working overtime.

I prop up my pillows again and pull my laptop over in front of me. If Liana doesn’t call by ten, I’ll call her. I’ll say…

What? “Do you have any more questions? Ask me anything.”

I can’t compose a mental script when I’m supposed to be working on this stupid essay.

Ignorance is ignorance. It seems so simple, or redundant. So why am I having trouble defending it?

I wish I’d chosen the other side of the argument. Ignorance is bliss. Being kept in the dark and not having to deal with the truth is easy. It’s denial. Swanee told me that Asher and Jewell declared bankruptcy last year. They refused to see, or admit, that they were living beyond their means.

I know Jewell’s a shopaholic, and Swanee always got anything she wanted. For her sixteenth birthday, she got the Smart car. If she knew her family was in financial straits, would she have accepted the car? When did she learn they were having money problems? Did she try to give the car back? As much as I want a car, I know I’d be conflicted if my parents were struggling to put food on the table.

For my seventeenth birthday in November, I got a Visa. Big whoop. The monthly limit is so low that if I exceed it, which I do every month, Mom and Dad get on my case.

What time is it? I check my laptop clock. Almost eight.

I key in a couple of paragraphs about avoiding the pain and messiness of real life, keeping yourself emotionally safe. Ignorant. It sounds lame.

“The darker the shades, the easier life is on the eyes,” I write.

Mrs. Burke is going to give me a flaming F.

What time is it now? Eight twenty. Close enough.

I dial Liana’s number and it goes to voice mail. I don’t know what to say, so I just hang up.

She obviously doesn’t check her missed calls immediately the way I do. See? Obsessed.

An hour later I’m still staring at a silent cell.

I run through the events of today. We had a good time. At least I did, and she seemed to. We shouldn’t be having fun, since we’re both in mourning. But for some reason I think that creates a bond. Both of us being victimized by Swanee’s lies.

I can’t think of one more thing to add to this essay. All I can do is hope that a lot of people write crappy essays and that Mrs. Burke grades on a curve. That might earn me an F+.

Mom and Dad are in the living room with the lights off and the TV on. Dad’s giving Mom a foot rub. As I snag Dad’s keys, Mom cranes her neck over the sofa back and asks, “Are you going out?”

No, I just wanted to suck on the keys. “There’s something I need at Swanee’s. I know you told me not to go over there, but…” But what? I need to get out of here and clear my head.

“What is it?” Mom asks.

Swan still has jewelry that I gave her, not that I really want it back. I’d rather look for that ring. I tell Mom, “This T-shirt we made in GSA for Day of Silence.” The lies are flowing freely again. The Swanee Effect.

Dad says, “It’s too late to bother them on a Sunday night. Can’t you stop by and pick it up in the morning?”

Mom adds, “I have a better idea. I’ll call Jewell and ask her to drop it off on her way to work. What does it look like?”

“She can’t go into Swanee’s room, Mom.”

Mom frowns. “Why not?”

Do I really have to tell her? “She just can’t set foot in there.”

That shuts Mom up.

“We’ll work something else out,” Dad goes.

Which means no. I storm back upstairs and almost slam my door. That, I know, would cost me, especially if I woke Ethan. Thankfully I stop myself and lose the attitude so my credit card limit doesn’t dwindle to zero, or something worse.

I catch the glow of Swanee’s cell in my bag and take it out. She has two texts from today. They’re both the same number, but it’s not Liana.

The first one reads:

if u have this cell ur a thief n im reporting u to the cops

The number looks familiar. I check Swanee’s contacts and it’s not in there. Then I think to check my cell. Aha. It’s the number Joss has been using. I should’ve known.

The second text reads:

if u want to keep the cops out of it put the cell in an envelope and send it to this address

It’s a rural address in Hudson; probably that trailer where I left her today.

She’s not getting Swanee’s cell. Just as I’m dropping it back in my bag, my cell rings. It’s a text from Liana:

Sorry I missed your call. My mom always asks who I’m talking to and there’s nowhere in this house I can have a private conversation

Now I’m not even sure why I called her.

I text:

I hear you. Not literally

She texts:

LOL. I can’t believe you bought the merry widow

I text:

Hey, you’re the one who picked it out. In fact, I’m wearing it right now. I made dinner in it for the rents and now I’m doing laundry

LMAO

I text:

Do you like working there?

It’s OK. Better than Chuck E. Cheese’s

But you’d get free pizza there

And salmonella. At VS I get to dream about girls in lingerie all day

There’s a lull in the conversation, like maybe we shouldn’t be having it. Then she texts:

I know you’re not supposed to speak poorly of the dead, but what Swan did was wrong and unforgivable. Except I’m Catholic, so I have to forgive her. I don’t want to hate her. I did at first. Every lie I found out about was like a stab in the back. But I don’t want to let hatred control my life

Swan never should’ve done what she did to Liana. Or Rachel. Or me. No, there’s no comparison with them and me. I know in my heart that Swanee loved me. She just wanted to make sure I was fully committed to her before she broke it off with Liana.

One more day and she would’ve known.

Yeah, it hurts to find out she was seeing someone else at the same time we were coming together. But given the chance, I would’ve proven to Swanee that no one could love her as much as I did.

Liana texts:

I have to go

Before she disconnects, I text:

Wait

A pause.

What?

That’s the question, I think. Why am I making her wait? She needs to get on with her life, and so do I.

I text:

Nothing. Never mind

Chapter 13

When I hand in my persuasive paper, Mrs. Burke scans the mostly empty page and then turns it over to see if I’ve continued on the back. She gets that same look on her face that Mom gets when she’s disappointed in me. I almost say, Quality over quantity, right? I’m surprised teaching doesn’t bring out the serial killer in more adults.

On my way home I pass Swanee’s street and see the Smart car parked at the end of the cul-de-sac with a FOR SALE sign in the window. LIKE NEW. $18,500.

Oh my God. Joss.

Jewell’s just pulling into the driveway as I’m walking away and she waves at me. She gets out, shoulders her hobo bag, and calls, “Hi, Alix. Come in for a cappuccino. It’ll have to be quick, though.”

I trail her inside, wondering how to ask if she’s regrouped. Her hair is damp and pulled back in a ponytail.

The house looks the same, table piled high with papers and magazines, clothes flung all over the place. It reeks of incense, like Genjko got a bulk deal. He should lay off that stuff.

Jewell unzips her leather boots and pads in stocking feet to the coffeemaker. I sit in my usual seat at the table. We don’t converse. Usually she’s so chatty, asking me about my life and just talking girl talk.

She sets my coffee in front of me and says, “Have you seen Swanee’s cell phone?”

Blood rushes to my cheeks.

“I’m betting Joss stole it, even though she swears she didn’t. She’s such a little liar and thief. She was always taking money from my purse, and I know she’s been rifling through Swanee’s room. Did Swanee tell you about the time Joss downloaded a bunch of p**n onto my computer? It got some virus and I had to take it to the geeks to fix. You should’ve seen how they looked at me.”

Swan did tell me about it. She thought it was hysterical. Joss, not so much. It was a dare for Joss to do it. Even if she didn’t want to participate in Swanee’s pranks, or was afraid of the consequences, she would never say no to Swanee.

Jewell takes her coffee and moves behind me toward the hall.

“Jewell.” I twist in my seat. “Can I ask you a question?”

She stops and checks her watch. “I have a hair appointment in twenty minutes.”

“Um, did you know Swanee was seeing another girl?”

Jewell laughs. “Only one?”

I don’t laugh. She lifts her cup to her mouth, sips, and then licks foam from her upper lip. “I told Swanee she was too young to be serious about just one person. At her age, I had guys lined up. Girls, too.” She winks.

I just look at her. Did she know about Liana?

She says, “It’s not like you were engaged, Alix.”

My heart heaves and a whirring sound fills my ears. I manage to croak out the question, “Would you mind if I went in Swanee’s room one more time? She… she borrowed this book, and I need to get it back to the library.”

Jewell sighs, like it’s a huge imposition. “Just for a minute.” She retrieves her bag and digs around for a set of keys. I follow her down the hall and see that a deadbolt has been installed on Swanee’s door.

“I saw the For Sale sign on the Smart car. Are you not keeping it for Joss because of the p**n thing?”

Jewell whirls around. “That car would never have gone to Joss. If she told you that, she was lying.” A cell phone rings in Jewell’s bag and she says, “I’ll be back to lock up when you’re done.” She answers the cell, “Hi, baby,” as she enters her room and shuts the door.

I just stare after Jewell, thinking, Who is this person? She’s changed. Or maybe I’ve never seen through her outer layer before.

I rummage around in Swanee’s drawers again, feeling for a ring box. It could be anywhere on her floor or desk, or behind books. If the ring had been on her finger while she was running, it’d be in the hospital bag. I feel around in there and come up empty.

Joss was right. There is no ring. Liana was lying, and now it’s possible that she was lying about a lot of things. All of it. That she and Joss and Swanee were in on it together and the joke was on me. I sit on Swan’s bed, feeling disoriented. Dizzy. Automatically, to stop the motion, my fingers slide under her mattress.

What’s this?

I stand and lift the mattress a few inches. Money. A lot of it. Mostly twenties. If I had to estimate, I’d say there was four or five hundred dollars there.

It makes me mad because I was the one who always had to pay whenever we went out. Even when Joss was with us, Swanee said she was broke, and would I mind charging it on my Visa? Of course I didn’t mind. I loved her.

Jewell’s door opens and closes. She calls, “Alix, are you almost through? I need to go.”

I leave the money, even though I should take it as reimbursement.

Beside the bookcase I see a couple of library books, so I grab them, inadvertently knocking over a trophy. A mitten falls out of the trophy and I bend to pick it up. It’s heavy, like something’s inside the mitten.

I empty the contents into the palm of my hand and see it’s a ring box. Liana wasn’t lying. This boiling anger at Swanee simmers inside me. Is that what we were to you? Trophies to add to your collection?

Jewell says from the threshold, “Did you find the book?”

Ever so slowly, I turn, sliding the ring box into my pocket. “Two, actually. They’re both overdue, but I’ll pay the fines.”

She doesn’t even say thanks, or offer to pay me back.

As she’s locking the door behind me, Jewell picks up where she left off. “I told Swanee she should have fun. See a lot of people. At her age, there was absolutely no reason to be tied down. Not just to you—”

I’m nauseated. I can’t even stand to look Jewell in the eye. Never have I felt such revulsion for a person. Before I say something I’ll regret, I rush to the door.

“If Joss tells you she has Swanee’s phone, you let me know.”

The words are a blur. Near the Smart car, my stomach gives out and I hurl. I want to scream. I want God or someone to fill me in on what’s right or wrong in this world, what’s honorable and decent, because the way Jewell and Asher live their lives, the morals they taught their children, it’s no wonder Swanee was the way she was. Even if I didn’t know them that long, how naïve could I be? How stupid? Suddenly my parents look like demigods next to them.