She lost her center of gravity and sank down, feeling faint. “Go,” Julia coughed out. “Just get Larry. I’ll be fine.”
“Larry’s gone already, like we should be.”
“I can’t move, Shelly.”
“I’ll get in trouble if you die,” Shelly answered as she dragged Julia along the tar-sticky grass. “Come on!”
Julia helped, using one arm to scoot. Pretty soon they were forty feet out. She’d left a trail of blood, which worried her. Because maybe the thing down there had caught her scent.
Shelly got down and scooted alongside Julia.
“Move!”
Julia went faster. She could breathe a little deeper. She knew she was supposed to hate Shelly, and mostly, she did. But being alone with her felt comfortable. It felt like something missing, suddenly returned.
“You’re such a liar, Jules,” Shelly said as they scooted. But her voice was much warmer than before, like she was thinking the same thing.
Fifty feet, maybe more. A safer distance. Julia took a deep breath, and a little more air got through. Her rational mind returned. It had to be an animal down there. A scared dog on some ledge, trapped and trying to break out. Ralph the German shepherd had bit her… right?
“What are you talking about? I don’t lie,” Julia said.
Shelly stopped scooting. Red veins skittered across her pupils. Those tufts of black hair were now slicked to her bony scalp with sweat. “You never told your parents that I wanted to live with you. You lied.”
“I did so ask them.”
“Bull.”
Was Larry ahead of her? He had to be. She wanted to call for him but her breath and throat, her everything hurt too much. “Lady, I need stitches and Larry’s AWOL. I can’t deal with your drama right now.”
“You think you’re so tough. Brooklyn girl from New Lots Avenue. You don’t know anything.”
“I know you’ve been badmouthing my whole family.”
“It’s not badmouthing if it’s true.”
“It’s not! Larry’s smart. You know that. And my dad? Come on! He’d never do that to you.”
Shelly didn’t bother denying it. With the Rat Pack gone, there wasn’t anybody left to perform for. She squeezed her hands, then squeezed her forearms. She left pale marks against the pink.
“Why’d you even want to live with me?” Julia pushed. “You told Lainee Hestia my house is a pigsty. You’re just flexing. I’m not one of your Maple Street followers.”
She put her head between her knees and talked from there, soft this time, like the real Shelly. “You said we were like family. Best friends forever.”
“We were. And then you fucked me over. Every time I tried to hang out with the Rat Pack you made it a shit show. You said those things about Larry. You know how hard I’ve been working to make him normal. How could you do that?”
She ran her fingers through her hair. Seemed alarmed that there wasn’t much. “It was a joke. You Wildes’ve never been able to take a joke.”
“You hurt him. He trusted you.”
Shelly let out a breath. Felt for her hair again. Her hands seemed lost. “She’s gonna be so mad,” she mumbled.
“What?”
Head bowed, hands reaching, Shelly kept feeling for her hair. It was all patchwork—some cut close to the scalp, some farther away. “I wasn’t asking just to flex. I told you it was bad. I shouldn’t’ve needed proof. You were supposed to be my friend. You said you believed me.”
Julia looked ahead. The Rat Pack had slowed down but was still running. Everything felt foreign and unsettled, like this whole town was on Mars. “I believed you. I mean, you’re sensitive. You have a lot of feelings. I always believed your feelings.”
“Then why didn’t you help me?”
“I mean, I get it. Your mom and the red wine and Ella’s annoying. Everything at your house is about nice clothes and Harvard. You can’t eat with a plate on your stomach and even if you could, the sofas are like rocks. I get it. But my house is hard, too. They put on a show when you were around. It’s not like, if you moved in with me, your life would suddenly get better.”
“How do you know?”
“My parents can’t handle things. My mom goes to la-la land. She shuts off like a robot. You saw her drive away this morning. If I ask her about it tonight, she’ll fuck me over. Won’t even say she’s sorry. She’ll just pretend it never happened. My dad’s a phony. I push him. Like I don’t do what he tells me or I climb all over the couch with dirty shoes. And I’m not allowed, but he doesn’t say anything. He gets so mad he grits his teeth. He curses and walks away. Sometimes he yells. I can tell he wants to hit me. But he doesn’t. I can’t explain, but it makes me feel sorry for him… I didn’t ask either of them because it’s impossible. They’d never let you live with us. Even asking, my mom would tell your mom, and then it’d be a big thing. I’d get in trouble for stirring the pot. I’m always the one who gets in trouble. Your mom protects you. Nobody has my back.”