Last Girl Standing

by Jackson, Lisa

  Her father wasn’t all that keen on having Bailey at the overnight event. The Reverend Proffitt hadn’t even been going to allow Carmen to go at all until he learned that several members of the school staff would be there, along with the class do-gooders, Rhonda Clanton and Trent Collingsworth. Grudgingly, the reverend had okayed his daughter to attend for the day only.

  Zora said, “I’m supposed to be bunking with Amanda and Delta, but I don’t know now.”

  “They’ll kill each other if they’re together,” said Bailey.

  “We’re definitely going to need at least two tents,” added Carmen.

  “No way Amanda sleeps in a tent,” Zora pointed out.

  “Not even if Tanner sneaks in?” Bailey suggested.

  “No one’s sneaking in.” Carmen shut that down immediately.

  “How are you planning to spend the night?” Zora asked Carmen. “Thought your dad nixed that.”

  “I’ll find a way,” she said determinedly.

  Zora shrugged. Carmen’s interest in Tanner was starting to get in the way of her every thought.

  “Let’s go ask Amanda about it,” Bailey said. “I gotta admit, I’m kind of pissed off that she kissed Tanner, or whatever happened.”

  “Delta doesn’t own Tanner,” Carmen said, staring forward through the windshield.

  “She’s his girlfriend, and he cheated on her with her friend, one of the Five Firsts. That’s not okay,” Bailey came right back.

  In the rearview, Zora could see how lost Bailey was after Carmen’s comment. It was doubtful Bailey could see the pinkening of Carmen’s cheeks, but Zora could. Bailey was over Carmen’s obsession with Tanner, as they all were, but she mostly kept her thoughts to herself. This was the most dissension between the two friends that Zora had heard in a long while.

  “I just meant that she acts so . . . proprietary,” Carmen mumbled.

  Bailey had no comment for that. Or maybe she knew better than to push too hard because who knew how Carmen would react. Like Carmen, Bailey wasn’t clear on what her plans were post-graduation. Zora figured that whatever Carmen decided to do, Bailey would likely do the same.

  Into the awkward silence, Zora said, “We just told Delta how we were on her side about Tanner and Amanda. Now, what do you want to say to Amanda?”

  “I don’t know.” Carmen leaned down in the seat. She was on the tall side and had been playing volleyball competitively all her life, as far as Zora could tell. If she didn’t get a scholarship, that would be it. Her parents couldn’t afford college. She would probably go to the local community college. Her older sister was on academic scholarship.

  Zora, on the other hand, had the means to go wherever she wanted. She just didn’t have the grades. She could maybe get into U of O or Oregon State, if she was really, really lucky, but she really wanted to go to the University of Arizona in Tucson. Hot, dry desert . . . oh, to be out of this rain. But . . . she’d blown her SATs, and she just couldn’t bear facing them again. And her grades this year had been in the toilet. She’d been to a few raves with her cousin and used ecstasy, though mostly she’d just been a boozehound. But being out all night . . . it was a kick . . . And it had played hell with her GPA.

  She might end up in community college as well, she thought glumly.

  And there were those troubling fights between her parents . . .

  Zora gnawed on the side of her thumb. She’d heard her dad mention something about “the eastside deal,” a real estate venture that was supposed to be a serious moneymaker, but maybe not . . . ? Black clouds on the horizon? She wouldn’t think about it. Everything was fine, just fine.

  “What did you think of Ellie talking to Tanner?” Zora asked them, pushing her troubling thoughts aside.

  “She’s just helping him study,” Carmen dismissed with a shake of her head.

  “Ellie? Isn’t Delta helping him?” asked Bailey, frowning a bit at her friend, who was suddenly so knowledgeable, apparently.

  “Ellie’s like a math wizard,” said Carmen.

  “Is she?” Zora asked, sliding Carmen a sideways look.

  “If it wasn’t for Ellie, I woulda flunked Algebra II. That stuff was hard.”

  Zora let that nugget of information settle into her brain. She could’ve used some help in math herself. If she’d known Ellie was tutoring, maybe she could have asked her? But then maybe not, because Ellie didn’t seem to like Zora very much. Maybe—probably—because Zora had taken Ellie’s spot with the Five Firsts, which was totally unfair because it hadn’t been Zora’s idea. Amanda had come to her and said she and Delta had talked it over and wouldn’t Zora be a better fit than Ellie O’Brien? Zora had been flattered and agreed. It wasn’t her fault that Ellie had been discarded.

  She put herself in Ellie’s shoes for a moment, thinking about how hurtful that must have been. A total betrayal of friendship.

  Immediately she shoved the thought aside. It wasn’t Zora’s fault Ellie had been pushed out in favor of her. It just wasn’t.

  They pulled into Amanda’s driveway, a long, straight cement road that led to the two-story Georgian house on the hill with a matching two-story, double-bay garage set apart from the house, so as not to get in the way of the view. Behind the house were acres and acres of Forsythe land, the West Knoll River cutting a jagged chasm of both slow-moving and whitewater rapids through the Forsythe property. The graduation committee was staking out a part of their land for the overnight party, and there had been raging discussions about whether it was safe or not to have them so close to the cliff side and river. The Forsythes had nearly pulled back their invitation, but Mr. Timmons, the senior math teacher, and Miss Billings, one of the school counselors, had talked them back into it, though the school district had made it clear they were not sanctioning or hosting the event in any way.

  So many rules. Zora was going to be glad when school was all over . . . sort of. The great uncertain beyond gave her a chill, whenever she thought about it.

  So just don’t think about it.

  “What?” Bailey asked, and Zora realized Carmen was looking at her askance, as well.

  “Never mind.” She must’ve spoken out loud. Too much on her mind.

  They pulled up to one side of the Forsythe home, where there was space to fan out a dozen cars in the stone parking area between the house and the two-story garage. Amanda’s father was a lawyer who made a buttload of money—more than Zora’s father, it sounded like, though Zora’s parents were very tight-lipped about it, whereas Amanda’s dad was one of those guys who was proud of his accomplishments and liked to kind of brag. He’d even once brandished a big bottle of some fancy champagne and invited Amanda and the rest of the Firsts to join him in celebrating a big deal of some kind, but Amanda’s mom had intervened and shooed them all out of the big den with its black-leather bar. Amanda took it all in stride. She had a tendency to hang back and just absorb everything, a character asset Zora’s mother told Zora she should learn from.

  “Amanda Forsythe knows when to talk and when to keep her mouth shut,” Mom said more than once. “You could take a lesson.”

  Zora had been pissed, though she knew her mother was just trying to help, but Zora was Zora. She knew how to have a good time. And Zora had seen Amanda shed that icy, blond-bitch persona, which was more of a cover-up than a thing anyway, when it suited her. She could flirt like a randy whore. Hadn’t she done that with Tanner?

  Tanner Stahd . . .

  Zora bit her lip, thinking about him.

  As if reading her mind, Bailey piped up, “Tanner isn’t the only hot guy in the class,” as the three of them walked up to the Forsythe front door. “There’s McCrae and Justin Penske and Brad Sumpter . . .”

  “Brad Sumpter?” Zora sniffed.

  “None as hot as Tanner,” Carmen defended loyally.

  “Tanner Stahd, the teenage god,” Zora murmured, repeating her mother’s ironic words as she rang the bell.

  “Well, he certainly thinks so,” said Bailey on a
short laugh.

  “He’s not as much of an egotist as McCrae,” Carmen defended.

  “Okay, Chris McCrae and Tanner Stahd both have inflated opinions of themselves,” Zora said. “Doesn’t mean they’re not hot.”

  The door was opened by Amanda’s mother. Marilyn Forsythe was rail thin, and the skin around her face had been stretched to remove lines. Tastefully so. Zora’s own mother had tried a similar procedure, but it hadn’t worked quite the same way. She was still a little dumpy, with a cloud of curly brown hair—dyed—whereas Marilyn was slim elegance, with blond hair swept into a ponytail at her nape. She wore cream-colored pants and a matching blouse. She was beautifully put together, creased and combed and her makeup flawless, with just a hint of blush on her defined cheekbones. She smiled at them all a bit tightly and told them Amanda was in her bedroom, a room that had once been a private den, accessed only by a wrought-iron stairway and now Amanda’s very private, very chichi bedroom.

  The three girls clambered up the stairway, their footsteps clanging through the cavernous house, and they were greeted at the bedroom door by Amanda, who seemed to let them into her room a bit grudgingly. Zora walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that curved around the turret that made up this end of the house. Below Amanda’s room was a dining room with the same nearly 360-degree view as this bedroom.

  “I can see the river from here,” said Zora.

  “No, you can’t. It’s down in the ravine,” said Amanda.

  “Well, I mean, I see where it is. I can see the jogging path that runs along the edge and the rail.” Zora flushed. Amanda could be so mean sometimes, without even trying to be.

  “Can you?” Bailey asked.

  “You must have great eyes,” said Carmen, squinting.

  Zora didn’t answer. In truth, she’d just been making conversation.

  Amanda’s gaze was trained out the window as well, but her blue eyes held a faraway glint, as if her mind were anywhere but with her friends. It was just as well, as Zora didn’t want her every comment analyzed and thrown back at her.

  “What are you thinking about?” Zora asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Amanda could be very hard to know. Truth be told, the rest of them were all vying for her attention, whenever they were together. Well, everyone but Delta, who, even before Amanda kissed Tanner, or vice versa, had been on her own path, a little distant from the rest of them. Zora had secretly admired and wondered about Delta, whose family had far less money than all the other Firsts, even Bailey or Carmen, or at least that’s what Amanda had said.

  It’s not about money, Zora reminded herself. Sometimes she was a little bit embarrassed by her own thoughts. She looked around quickly, worried someone could see through her, but Bailey and Carmen were animatedly telling Amanda about the arrangements for the Five Firsts’ tents, while Amanda listened as if she were just indulging them, which she probably was.

  It was Bailey who finally got around to asking Amanda about kissing Tanner with a kind of bumbling, ass-backward question about whether Delta and Tanner were still a couple.

  “Why wouldn’t they be?” Amanda asked provocatively.

  “Because you were making out on Zora’s pool table,” Bailey blurted out after a charged moment.

  Zora held her breath, and Carmen looked worried. It wasn’t smart to piss Amanda off.

  Amanda didn’t immediately meet Bailey’s gaze. She still seemed locked in her own reverie. But then her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before she looked at the shorter, wiry girl. “Jesus, Bailey, people make such a big deal over things. Tanner is with Delta. We just got caught up, messing around, you know.”

  “Yeah.” Carmen looked relieved, clearly wanting the conversation to end.

  “Does Delta know that?” asked Zora.

  “I haven’t talked to Delta. Obviously.” Amanda sighed with exasperation. “She’s really pissed off. I get it. I would be, too. But it was nothing. Tanner knows it was nothing. And now you all know it was nothing. Right?”

  “Right,” the three of them chorused with much relief.

  Zora wanted to believe her. Really, really wanted to believe her. Amanda was their leader . . . and Delta too, sort of. And she didn’t want all kinds of confessions and soul-baring to get in the way. She had her own needs for privacy.

  “Amanda!”

  The call came from outside the bedroom door, and they all turned to heed Amanda’s mother’s call. “What?” Amanda yelled back snappishly.

  “We have that appointment. We gotta go before your brother gets home from practice. Chop-chop.”

  “Oh, shit,” Amanda muttered. “I forgot. I have an audition for a commercial.”

  “On Friday?” Bailey asked.

  “I know.” Amanda made a disgruntled sound.

  “What’s it for?” Zora asked. She knew Amanda tried out for acting jobs here and there, and she hoped to somehow work her way into it, too.

  “I won’t get it. It’s a local commercial for a real estate company, and they always want young kids and parents. I’m sick of doing things that don’t pan out.”

  “On Friday?” Bailey repeated.

  Amanda didn’t bother to answer as she stomped out of the room. After a moment, Zora, Carmen, and Bailey followed her down the winding staircase. They hovered by the front door a moment, listening to Amanda argue with her mother about the audition, but in the end, Mrs. Forsythe shooed the girls out and took Amanda in her car. Without Amanda, Zora sort of lost interest in hanging out, and since the debacle of her father finding out that their liquor supply had been diminished, he wasn’t keen on having Zora host her friends at their house any longer. It was the boys, of course, who’d really done damage to the fifths of bourbon, rum, and vodka, but since Dad didn’t really know the guys in her class, he took out this displeasure on the Five Firsts.

  “I’d better take you guys back,” Zora said to them.

  “Take me to Carmen’s,” Bailey said, not bothering to hide her disappointment. “My mom’s probably there.”

  Joyce Quintar and Elena Proffitt had met in Lamaze class and become good friends. Their daughters had followed suit, and their friendship had lasted even through Bailey’s parents’ ongoing trials, though the Reverend wasn’t all that keen on his wife hanging out with a divorcée . . . He truly was old school.

  After Zora dropped off Carmen and Bailey at Carmen’s house, she returned to her own home, a Tudor with leaded-glass windows and a grand entry hall. She was disappointed, too. It was really Amanda’s fault their Friday night had gotten blown up. If she hadn’t been fooling around with Tanner . . .

  Momentarily, Zora allowed herself to think about Tanner Stahd in the way she only did in her most private moments. The guy had a lean, easy, open way of being. Zora had caught his eye lingering on her once or twice, and each time her heart had beaten a little faster. He was a cool guy, and it felt good to be noticed. Though she thought it was pretty rotten the way Amanda had ignored the fact that Tanner was Delta’s boyfriend, and kissed him and climbed up on the pool table, laughing and joking around and generally being more frenemy than friend, there was no denying Tanner was hot. The hottest guy in high school. And really . . . who was to say that Delta had dibs on him? Sure, Delta and Tanner were assumed to be a couple; they’d been one for years. But it wasn’t like they were married or anything. Sure, it wasn’t right to treat your friends like Amanda had treated Delta, but maybe it was time for some kind of shake-up. If Tanner were suddenly free of Delta he’d be . . . well . . . free.

  Zora parked her car in the third bay of the garage, then pushed through the back door into the mudroom off the kitchen. Immediately she heard her parents screaming at each other, calling each other names that blistered her ears. Her blood ran cold. This was the new reality. Mom and Dad couldn’t get along. Was divorce the next step?

  Zora sneaked up the back stairway to her bedroom over the entryway. She grabbed her iPod and plugged the earbuds into her ears, anything to stop
the noise. But above the music she could still hear her parents going at it . . . and in the back of her mind she heard Bailey’s voice: “My parents yelled and screamed at each other for years before they decided to get a divorce. Broke my dad’s heart, but Mom didn’t want to be a cop’s wife anymore. She’s found someone new, and it’s like Mom’s the one in high school now. My sister’s with her, but I stayed with Dad.”

  Is that what I’m going to have to do? Zora despaired. Pick a parent to live with? Sure, she was going to be eighteen in a few months, but she still depended on her mom and dad.

  Bailey’s father was the West Knoll River chief of police, and Bailey had stayed with him when their mother went to find her new life. The only time Bailey even saw her mom was when she was visiting Carmen’s mom, which used to be every Friday but had become spottier and spottier as Joyce Quintar pulled away from her ex-husband and therefore her daughters. Or so Bailey had said when Zora questioned her.

  Zora didn’t want any of that. Please, please, please. Please don’t let them divorce and sell the house and move away. Please . . .

  Chapter 3

  Ellie sat at the dinner table with her mother, stepfather, and two half brothers, the twins, Michael and Joey, and listened to Oliver Delaney go on about his latest case, a drunk-driving fatality in which the driver had killed himself and his date, and now the deceased date’s family was suing for millions, as said drunk driver had been wealthy. Said drunk driver also had nine children, and Oliver was representing them.

  “Stop it,” Ellie’s mother said to the twins, slapping the air in their direction as the six-year-olds were squirreling around, laughing and knocking their chairs together. A glass of milk shivered and sloshed white liquid onto the table.

  Ellie grabbed Joey’s hand to stop him. He tried to wrench himself free, and she hissed at him, “You want to go to your room?”

  “Ellie, I’ll handle the boys,” Mom said as Oliver grabbed Michael’s hand and squeezed hard enough for the boy to yelp.

  “Stop it.” This time, it was Ellie who snapped. And she snapped at Oliver, who never took having his behavior questioned well.