He did it, Lilly had told the cops, the special investigator, their parents, through the spinning, sickening blur of the last two days. I saw it. I saw them.
And even if her younger sister hadn’t seen a thing—Boyd’s fingerprints everywhere told the story for her.
Boyd. Her Boyd.
No—not her Boyd.
Staring at the empty chair, Tessa knew she couldn’t go through with this. That saying a bunch of fake words about Kit now would be the worst lie she ever told.
Or it would be the worst truth.
So she did what any sane human would do, or even any half-sane half human, like her.
She ran the fuck out of there.
Chapter Three
Before
9/6
Dear Diary,
Ah, the first day of school. Nothing’s quite like it. That’s why I’m finally writing in you. Kit’s the real writer in the family, but it seems like a waste because nothing interesting ever happens to her. Or to any of us.
This year is going to be different, though.
Hopefully.
Everyone’s awake, and it sounds like the house is going to come down in all the commotion outside my door. Tessa has spent all morning moaning about how she lost one of her shoes or something (how do you lose just one, by the way?), while sucking on a giant mug of black coffee (which, ew). Kit keeps racing up and down the stairs, putting in her earrings while sorting through notebooks while also carrying on a full conversation with Mom about her after-school plans—some dizzying combo of volunteering, tutoring, and babysitting.
Diary, I don’t care about any of that.
Diary, I have locked my door, and I plan to lock you, too, which is why I can first tell you this:
I’m naked right now. (!!!!)
Not to be vain (vein?), but I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror, feeling ready, finally. I mean, not ready for school, obviously. (!!!) But ready-ready. As in, ready for things to start happening.
I’m a sophomore now. My face is still too big for the rest of me, and the gap between my teeth has not disappeared, despite what Mom keeps saying. As for my boobs, they are bigger than plums but smaller, I think, than oranges. My hips are rounded at the sides but sharp in front. The carpet, newly trimmed, matches the drapes. (Ugh, I really hate that phrase, it’s so gross!!! And why are our bodies supposed to be compared to stuffy old living rooms? Anyway, I finally decided last night that if I’m going to be stuck with fire crotch my whole life—and everyone being able to guess at it—then it may as well be a neat and tidy fire down there!!)
I wonder whether anyone can see me through the window blinds right now.
Okay, not anyone. (Boyd.)
Here are the reasons BND (Boy Next Door) is fated to be my boyfriend:
He once rescued me from an angry pit bull.
He protects me from my sisters during snowball fights.
He lets me go first in board games.
I’ve just always imagined that he would be my first! Do I need more reason than that?
Hold on, Diary, I’ll be right back. . . .
Yeah no, his blinds are down.
Whatever. Hold on, again. I need to get dressed. . . .
Okay, I’m back. Sorry that took so long. I spent all my school-clothes money (and part of Tessa’s leftover budget since what does she need it for when she literally only wears those ratty jeans with tank tops every day?), but it still took me forty-five minutes to decide what to wear. Here goes: a floral jumper from Lupine and a blazer that used to be Mom’s, with the sleeves rolled up. It’s a mix of retro and easy!
I just heard the screen door slam.
And now Boyd is outside honking his truck. He seriously almost made me mess up my eyeliner.
Another honk.
Deep breath.
It’s Go Time.
Lilly slammed her diary shut and shoved it under her mattress. “For fuck’s sake, I’m coming!” she called out.
“Let’s have less cursing, sweetie,” her mom said as Lilly burst out of her room with her bag in one hand and took the strawberry Pop-Tart wrapped in two layers of napkin her mother held out to her with the other.
“Sure, Mom.” What the fuck had she even said?
She jogged down the driveway and hopped up into the cab of the truck. Even though Kit had scooted over as far as she could, Lilly still had to shove her way in so she could fit her entire butt and shoulder bag in the car. “This is getting cozy,” she said to everybody.
“You’re welcome to walk,” Tessa replied, taking a sip from a giant to-go mug. The scent of her coffee filled the cabin and probably ruined the smell of Lilly’s hair forever. Tessa was squeezed on the bench seat right up next to Boyd, who sat, obviously, behind the wheel. Next came Kit, and Lilly on the end.
“You’re welcome to not be a bitch,” Lilly told her, shuffling her bag down near her feet so she could finish her breakfast.
Tessa grinned from the corner of her mouth. “Touché.” She sighed dramatically, resting her head on Boyd’s shoulder while he pulled out of the driveway. “Another year. Another opportunity to revel in the glory of DLHS.”
Boyd laughed. “We’re halfway through, Tess. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”
Kit put one arm around each of them, and Lilly got a whiff of her perfume—something with jasmine. “What’s everyone most excited about?”
Boyd shrugged. “Seeing Mrs. Barrington.”
They all laughed. Mrs. Barrington was one of the lunch ladies, and she had eyes only for Boyd.
“Learning geometry,” Lilly said. “Just kidding. Probably wearing all of my new clothes.”
“Advanced English,” Kit said.
Lilly had to snort, despite what Kit said about snorting (that it is not classy).
Tessa sighed. “Well, I’m most looking forward to it all being over in two hundred and eighty-eight days.”
“Tess.” Kit rolled her eyes.
“Okay, then, I’m most looking forward to winter break.”
Classic Tessa. Boyd laughed.
“It’s going to be a good one. I can feel it,” Kit announced to no one.
Tessa sniffed—which was apparently classier than snorting. “Easy for you to say. You’ve aced all your classes. All you have to do is coast this year.”
“Yeah,” Boyd put in. “Didn’t you get like only one B?”
“It was a B-plus,” Lilly said, finishing her Pop-Tart.
Kit turned to her. “How do you know?”
“Because I looked at your report card.” Lilly rolled down the window for some air, trying to not ruin the first day of school by showing up wrinkled and sweaty.
Kit pulled her arms back to her sides. “Lilly, no one gave you permission to do that!”
“Since when do I need permission? We’re flesh and blood, right?” It was hard to explain, but Lilly kind of liked it when Kit yelled at her. Like something she’d done mattered. Besides, it was not fair that Tessa always seemed to know things about Kit instinctively, without even having to ask. It was their whole chimerism thing, which Lilly had honestly never totally gotten. Tessa shared some of Kit’s DNA from birth, and the result was that Tessa had a built-in excuse to act like a moody brat whenever she felt like it, and to claim she “understood” Kit better than anyone. It went beyond biology to more eerie stuff. Like, even though they had different personalities, sometimes they’d say the same thought out loud at the same time. And occasionally when Tessa woke from a nightmare, she’d find Kit was having the same one—or so they claimed.