The Party Page 16

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  The spray paint was red. It had trickled down in places and was drying, thick and still tacky, like blood. Like the blood that had come from Ronni’s eye that night. No one who had seen Ronni lying there bleeding and hurting could have written this. But who else would have done it? And why? Adam, Noah, and Lauren wanted to send Ronni a message, to make sure she kept quiet about that night, but would they really be this brutal?

  “Horrible,” Nat said, and the other Godsters murmured their agreement. Hannah felt a ragged sob shudder through her chest. She turned away from the carnage and headed toward the bathroom.

  “Hannah!” Phoebe called after her, but Hannah didn’t want her Christian comfort. It wasn’t real. Phoebe had to be nice to everyone because she didn’t want to burn in hell. Hannah didn’t believe in hell, but if she had, she’d have been pretty worried right about now.

  As she hurried down the deserted main hallway, Hannah could feel her composure slipping. Her cheeks burned, her chin quivered, and tears pooled in her eyes, clouding her vision. There were no witnesses here—everyone was entrenched in their lunch cliques in the cafeteria, or lounging on the beanbag cushions set up in the foyer, or out in the sunshine perched on various benches or ledges—so she let the emotions come. Tears slid down her cheeks and her face contorted with the anguish that was inside her. People were horrible. Her boyfriend, her best friend, her own mother …

  A sob was rising in her chest and she quickened her step. She was almost at the refuge of the girls’ restroom, when Noah appeared around the corner. “Hey.” His handsome face was concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  Hannah hesitated. She should blame a failed test, or a text fight with her mom, or her period … but the words tumbled out. “I just saw Ronni’s locker.”

  “Oh …” Noah said, gaze drifting to the floor. And that’s when she saw it: the tiniest hint of amusement dancing in his eyes before he turned somber. “Harsh.”

  “Who did it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really?” she scoffed. “Maybe Adam knows then? Or Lauren?” The tears and anguish were morphing into something new inside her: anger. Unfortunately, her fury was manifesting in an ugly lack of facial control and increased tear flow. Noah was going to be repulsed.

  “Chill, Hannah,” he said.

  She was sobbing now. “What you’re d-doing … to Ronni … is sick!” She was horrified by her loss of composure but she couldn’t stop now. “It-it’s mean … and it’s wrong!”

  “Calm the fuck down.” Noah’s eyes skipped past her down the hallway. He was worried her outburst would alert the principal or a teacher. “I was in shop class when Ronni’s locker got spray-painted. Ask Mr. Kiewitz.”

  Hannah took a calming breath and was almost able to get the next sentence out without blubbering. “How do you know when it got spray-painted?”

  “I’m assuming it happened before lunch, when everyone was in class.”

  “What about the Facebook page?” Hannah said, surprised by her confrontational tone. “Were you in shop class when that got made, too?”

  Noah looked down at her with hard eyes, then his lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “People told me not to go out with you. They said you were a lame little virgin. A spoiled little goody-goody. I guess they were right.”

  “M-maybe I’m just a good person? Maybe I don’t think being cruel to someone is funny?”

  “If you want to be friends with the Cyclops, be my guest.” He took a step toward her and she feared he was going to grab her arm, or shove her up against the wall, or spit in her face … but he didn’t. “If you tell anyone we were there that night, we’ll take you down,” he growled. “Just like we’re taking Ronni down.”

  All Hannah’s bravado dissipated then. “I’d never say anything. I promise.”

  Noah looked past her. A group of teachers had emerged from the staff room and were headed their way. “You’d better not.” He turned and left her.

  jeff

  FORTY-SIX DAYS AFTER

  Jeff and Kim walked down the gradual decline of stone steps from Candace Sugarman’s law office in the Financial District. Jeff held his wife’s arm as Kim cried softly behind her dark glasses. To the suits passing by, he looked like a caring supportive husband, a perfect gentleman, but he was having a hard time garnering sympathy for the woman beside him. And her incessant sniveling was testing his nerves.

  They reached his Tesla without exchanging a word. Jeff opened the passenger door and let Kim, still whimpering like she’d lost a beloved pet, into the leather interior. He got in on the other side, his weight on the seat automatically starting the motor. He was about to drive when Kim’s hand on his arm stopped him.

  “What do we do now?”

  Jeff looked at his wife, at her large, square Chanel sunglasses despite the overcast day, at her trim blazer and slim black slacks. She was an attractive woman for her age, for any age, but he looked at her like a painting or a photograph: visually appealing with nothing behind it. He remembered how he had loved her once, how he’d wanted her and ravished her … but that was a different Kim. Maybe, it was a different Jeff, too.

  “Lisa turned us down,” he said. “We need to strategize another offer, one that she has to accept.”

  “Or we go to trial.”

  “You heard Candace. It’s a bad idea. It will be expensive and hard on the kids.”

  “But she said we could win.”

  “Could win. We could also lose.”

  Kim blew her nose loudly into a tissue. “I can’t believe Lisa’s being so vile.”

  “Money brings out the worst in people.”

  Kim snorted. “Lisa acts so spiritual and Zen with all her yoga and her healing work, but she’s nothing but a greedy, vindictive cunt.”

  “Whoa …”

  Kim dissolved into embarrassed giggles. “Oh my god … did I really just say that?” Jeff couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, she reminded him of the old Kim, the one who swore and cracked jokes and laughed. “God, I am losing it,” she finished.

  “You and me both.”

  Kim checked her watch. “I have to make cookies for Aidan’s soccer game, but I don’t want to go home yet.” She dabbed at her eyes with the clean end of the snotty tissue she’d blown into. “I don’t want be alone in the house, thinking about all this.”

  Jeff watched her for a few seconds. “Want to go for a walk somewhere?”

  THEY DROVE TO Baker Beach and joined the Coastal Trail. It was an easy hike, a walk really, with incredible views of the crashing water, distant sailboats, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Marin Headlands across the bay. It was a path they’d walked before, when the kids were preteens, when they still did things as a family. When had that stopped? When Jeff’s career ramped up? When they moved into the new house? When Kim decided that the kids’ learning to play sports and instruments and express themselves creatively was more important than family time?

  “I miss this,” Kim said, taking in the view as they strolled next to each other.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  She turned her face toward him. “I meant this. Me and you, spending time together.”

  “Really?” Jeff scoffed.

  Kim snapped back. “You’re the one who works ten hours a day and then works out for two or three more.”

  Because I’m avoiding you! he wanted to yell. Because you’re cold and bitter and you treat me like a bratty six-year-old! But he said nothing, clenching his teeth together instead. He could feel Kim’s eyes on him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want us to fight. I want us to be a team.”

  “We are a team,” he muttered. He felt Kim’s hand reach for his and hold it as they walked. It was warm and dry and surprisingly comforting. An older couple was heading their way, striding along with Nordic hiking poles. They nodded hello, and Jeff rea
lized how he and his wife must look: like a couple so in love that they took a scenic walk together, in the middle of the day, on a Wednesday. The older pair would never have guessed that Jeff and Kim were there because a former friend was suing them and had just refused their offer of half a million dollars.

  Kim pointed to a branch in the path. “Let’s head down to the beach.” They dropped hands to traverse the trail down to the water, but as soon as the terrain leveled out, Kim slipped her hand into Jeff’s again. It was April and still cool, so there were no sunbathers—naked or otherwise—and they had the beach to themselves. “This is nice,” Kim said. “You could almost forget all the crap that’s going on in our lives right now.”

  “Almost.”

  Kim turned to face him. She slipped her hands under his jacket and wrapped them around his waist. It was the most intimate touch they had shared in months. “It’s cold,” she said, by way of an excuse, as she snuggled into him. Jeff’s hands instinctively wrapped around her. Kim’s face was pressed against his neck and he felt himself soften toward her. So much anger, so much resentment … but maybe there was still something there, something more than just history.

  “I feel like, if we stick together, we can do anything.” Her words were muffled by his jacket collar.

  “Yeah,” he said, noncommittal. He felt her lips on his neck, a hesitant kiss at first. When he didn’t push her away, her mouth became more urgent and passionate.

  “Kim …”

  Her mouth was hot and wet as it gnawed on his neck. Her hands groped his ass, between his thighs, clutching his crotch. “Let’s go behind those rocks,” Kim whispered, her voice loud and desperate in his ear. “No one will see us.”

  Jeff was aroused—it had been so long since Kim had touched him this way, in any way, really—but something felt wrong. Since when was Kim willing to do it in a public place, to risk humiliation, even arrest? Even the old Kim, wild Kim, wasn’t an exhibitionist. There was something too desperate, too forced in her suggestion. And Jeff had recently decided to shut himself down as a sexual being. The sexts from Lauren had prompted a physical response in him that made him feel ill. He was not going to let himself be turned on by a sixteen-year-old girl, no matter how dead his sex life was. He would exercise and work and take care of his family: he didn’t need sex. He grabbed Kim’s wrists and held them. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “I just want to be close to you. I want to be with you, like we used to be.”

  “Sex on a public beach isn’t going to solve years of problems.”

  Kim took a step back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We probably need therapy. And lots of it. But for now”—she moved closer to him—“we need to come together. We need to go to trial and beat Lisa. Together.”

  “We can’t go to trial.”

  “Don’t worry about the drugs. It was one tiny indiscretion. It was ages ago… .”

  “You didn’t act like it was a tiny indiscretion.”

  Kim took a ragged breath and her eyes were liquid. “I’m sorry. I held you to an impossible standard last year. I know no one’s perfect.”

  “Except you.” His tone was critical: perfect was not a compliment.

  “I’m not,” she said. “I almost made a huge mistake.” She reached for his hand and held it. He knew something was coming, something big, but he waited and watched her struggle to find the words. “I almost had an affair.”

  It didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was how little he cared. “Almost?”

  “I couldn’t go through with it. I knew it was wrong… .” Her eyes welled up as she continued. “We’ve been so distant for so long, Jeff. You’re so involved in your job, and I’ve been so involved with the kids and the house. I started flirting with a guy I was working with. He’s not my type—I don’t even like him—it was just … a distraction. It was just attention.”

  “But you didn’t go through with it.”

  “No. I couldn’t.”

  “Because it was wrong… . Not because it would hurt me, not because you loved me, but because it was wrong.”

  She dropped his hand. “I learned a lot, Jeff. About making mistakes and holding people to unrealistic standards. I was too hard on you; I know that now. You’ve screwed up, I’ve screwed up. We’re imperfect human beings. But what we’ve done is nothing compared to the skeletons in Lisa’s closet.”

  “Lisa’s background has nothing to do with the case against us.”

  “And neither does the fact that you did LSD last year. They won’t even be able to use that in court.”

  “Why not?”

  She looked down at the sand. “The guy I was almost with … I was upset and I told him. About the LSD.” She looked up, something like dread in her eyes. “His wife is a lawyer at the firm Lisa hired. The guy … he must have told his wife and then she must have told Lisa’s lawyer.”

  “Christ, Kim.”

  “So that makes your drug use inadmissible… . I’ll have to confirm with Candace, but I’m pretty sure it does.” She clutched his hand desperately. Her cheeks were red and she looked really pretty. “I’m not going to roll over and let Lisa ruin us. I’m not going to let her destroy the life we’ve built over an accident that was not our fault.”

  “We can’t go to trial, Kim.”

  “I just told you we can! We can win!”

  I went for ice cream with Lauren Ross. And then I sneaked out in the middle of the night to pick her up from a party. I sat with her, in my car, and I held her while she cried. And then she started texting me… . I barely answered her, but she just kept texting. And then she sent me some nude photos… . I didn’t look at them, I deleted them right away. I wiped my phone and blocked her number, but the kid is crazy! She’s delusional! And if they call her to the stand, I don’t know what she’ll say!

  But he couldn’t tell his wife that; he couldn’t tell anyone that. It sounded so fucked-up, so perverted … so stupid. Instead, he said, “I gave the girls a bottle of champagne that night.”

  “Why?” Kim whispered, her face registering anger, distress, fear… . God, if she only knew how much worse it was.

  “I wanted Hannah to have a good time, for once, without all your rules and conditions. It was her sixteenth birthday for Christ’s sake. Every kid wants to have a drink on their sixteenth.”

  Kim said nothing but he could see the wheels turning in her head. What did this mean for them? For Lisa’s lawsuit? For their chances at trial? She looked up at him. “I remember it now. There was a piece of the bottle near Ronni’s hand— What did you do with it?”

  “I took it on a run and threw it in a trash can miles from the house.”

  “You disposed of evidence.”

  “It seemed prudent,” he retorted.

  Kim opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to realize her righteous indignation would be way out of line. She pressed her lips together and gave a slight nod of acquiescence. Jeff decided to hammer in the last nail.

  “After the accident, when I drove the other girls home … I told them not to tell anyone about the champagne. I told them to keep it a secret or I’d get into trouble.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jeff.”

  “The cops and lawyers don’t seem to know about it, so I guess they kept it quiet.”

  Kim’s voice was shaking. “Did you threaten them? What did you say to them?”

  “Is that really what you think of me? That I’d threaten a bunch of teenaged girls?” He turned away and started walking down the beach.

  Kim trailed behind him. “They’ve been questioned under oath! They perjured themselves! They lied for you! Why?”

  Because Lauren Ross is my guardian angel. Because she did whatever mean, popular girls do to sweet, less-popular girls to make sure they stay quiet.

  But instead, he whirled on her. “I don’t know why. Maybe they realize that a bottle of champagne between five of them didn’t cause Ronni’s accident. Or, maybe they just don’t remember.”

  “Giv
e me a fucking break.”

  “You always think the worst of me!”

  A black dog, probably a Labrador-shepherd cross judging by its broad face and shaggy coat, came out of nowhere and ran toward them, barking angrily. Kim froze and instinctively stepped behind Jeff. The dog stopped, about ten feet away, but continued to bark.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Jeff said. “We won’t hurt you.”

  Kim’s voice was tense and irritated. “Where is its owner?”

  On cue, a sixtyish woman in a knitted sweater came into view. “She’s okay!” she called out. “All bark and no bite.” She called to the dog, “Come here, Rosie. Good girl.”

  As Rosie turned back to her master, Jeff said, “Beautiful dog.”

  Kim’s words overlapped his: “She should be on a leash.”

  Silently, they headed back toward the trail.

  kim

  FORTY-SIX DAYS AFTER

  Kim stared into the metal bowl of the KitchenAid mixer and watched the butter and brown sugar cream together. She was lost in thought, her mind still on the beach, listening to her husband’s confession. Jeff had lied to her, lied to the police, lied to the lawyers… . He had removed evidence from the scene, asked children to lie for him, asked his own daughter to perjure herself. He had given alcohol to minors, brought LSD into their home… . What else was Jeff capable of?

  Something jolted Kim back to the present and she flicked off the mixer. She had overcreamed the butter and sugar and now it was a wet, greasy paste. The cookies would be flat and leaden, but she was pretty sure Aidan’s soccer team wasn’t too discerning. Most parents brought a box of granola bars when it was their turn to provide snacks, so there would be no complaints. A soggy frozen banana laid dripping and thawing in a bowl. Kim oozed it from its blackened skin, then proceeded to mash it with a fork, harder than was necessary.

  Oddly, Kim didn’t feel angry at Jeff. Perhaps she’d grown accustomed to him letting her down. Or maybe her expectations were so low that nothing he did could raise her ire. Or maybe, she was just angry at herself. She didn’t go in for Lisa’s New Agey crap, but Kim believed that everyone created their own life. She, alone, was responsible for the way her husband treated her, her kids, her sister, her friends, everyone … so it was Kim who had built a family that lied to her, that disobeyed her and kept secrets from her.