Pretty Dead Girls

by Monica Murphy

  “Isn’t that how the judicial system works in America?” I slam my locker door shut and turn to face him once more, lowering my voice. “I’m freaking out, Cass. Everyone who’s died is a Lark. Even if Courtney isn’t the murderer, it still means only Court and me are left. I’m a target.”

  “I agree. You’re definitely a target,” he says firmly. “Whoever’s doing this seems focused on the most popular girls in the senior class. Or they’re after the most beautiful girls. Hell, I don’t know. None of this makes any sense. But I do know one thing.” He hesitates, then goes for it. “Courtney didn’t do this.”

  I glare at him. “You don’t know her. You don’t know anything about her.”

  “I know more than you think,” he says somberly. “We have a past. She’s my friend. We went to rehab together.”

  My mouth drops open. Rehab? And the secrets just keep on coming. “Are you for real right now?”

  Cass shrugs, looking irritable. “What’s the big deal? You know we had a past. Well, there it is. My secret shame, along with Courtney’s. We went to rehab together. We supported each other. We haven’t seen each other as much lately, but I want to do the right thing.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, my voice a tiny whisper.

  “Talk to her. Make sure she’s okay. Make everything between us right.” His mouth goes firm. “She was acting so crazy, and at one point, I truly believed she was the killer. But there’s just…no way it could be her. I know Courtney. She can be rotten, and selfish, but she’s not a murderer. I feel bad that I suspected her at first, so I need to make amends. She’s always stood by me in the past, so I want to stand by her.”

  Dude. I can’t freaking believe it. Why does he care if she’s okay or not? Why does he feel the need to make “it” right? What exactly is he talking about?

  No one I know.

  “You can’t talk to her,” I tell him.

  He frowns. “Why the hell not?”

  “She’s deranged. Delusional. She’ll work her way into your brain and convince you that you shouldn’t see me anymore.”

  Cass literally scoffs. “Give me a break. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “She so would.”

  “I won’t let her.”

  “Trust me. She can be very convincing.”

  “Are you calling me weak?”

  Oh. He sounds pissed now. “No. I never said you were weak. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “I can talk to whoever I want, Pen. Courtney was my friend before I really even knew you.”

  “So she matters more to you than I do.” Okay, now I sound like a jealous, crazed girlfriend. Maybe I’m the one who’s deranged. Clearly I’m not thinking straight.

  “Now who’s putting words in someone’s mouth?” Cass says snidely.

  Blowing out a breath, I start walking down the hall, Cass right along beside me. “Go away,” I tell him, as if he’s an annoying bug. “I need to get to class.” If we keep this up, I’m going to start crying, and I promised myself I would stay strong today.

  “You really want to end it like this?”

  I come to a stop, as does he, and people pass us by, in a hurry to get into their seats before the first period bell rings. “End it? What do we have that’s even started?”

  My words hurt him. I can see it in the way he flinches ever so slightly, and by the quick flicker of emotion in his gaze. “I think we both need to cool off.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should go cool off with Courtney. Your very dearest, closest friend.” I really need to shut up. “Though from what we saw Friday night, I think she’s a better expert at heating things up.” Oh, that was petty and rude, but it’s all I’ve got, and I’m freaking mad.

  I don’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, I storm off, ignoring Cass when he calls my name. I don’t even bother looking back. I can’t believe he’s siding with Courtney. So what if he’s known her longer than me? I’ve known her longer than pretty much everyone in my life besides my family, and while I originally believed no way was she capable of hurting someone physically, now I can believe it.

  And I believe she did it.

  “Penelope.” A female voice calls my name when I walk past, and I’m so startled I turn and look for her, slamming my backpack into someone’s side as I do.

  “Watch it,” the guy mutters before he stalks off.

  “Penelope! Over here!” I finally find the source and it takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. Even in my anger and fear, I can turn on bitch mode with the flip of a switch.

  Something I’m not really proud of, either. A few weeks ago, I would’ve flipped them total attitude. Now I just want to ignore them. Pretend they don’t even exist. Neither option is nice, though, is it?

  Alyssa and Maggie, two of my junior Larks, are standing by the lockers, nervous smiles on their faces. They look downright excited to see me and as I approach, I note the way they both stand up straighter, as if they’re presenting themselves to me.

  This, I can appreciate. This, I understand. Maybe I really am the queen bee, not Courtney. This is my school.

  And I’m not about to let Courtney Jenkins and her evil, psycho ways ruin everything.

  “We’ve been so worried about you,” Alyssa breathes, her dark brown eyes wide and her entire demeanor dramatic. “But you look great! Your hair is so shiny this morning.”

  I hate that they’re trying so hard to please me. “You could’ve called,” I remind them. “Or texted. Or Snapchatted. Or sent me a DM on Twitter or Instagram—”

  “We get it,” Maggie interrupts, her expression immediately contrite when I glare at her. “Our bad for not reaching out to you. But we were scared! Everything that’s happened is straight out of a scary movie!”

  “We’re…afraid for you, Penelope,” Alyssa adds, her tone much more sincere. “You’re a senior, you’re in charge of the Larks, and we admire you so much! We just don’t want anything awful to happen to you.”

  “I appreciate that,” I tell them quietly, meaning every word I say. “Really.”

  I’m scared—and I firmly believe Courtney is a direct threat. Yet Cass wants to hang out with her. Forgive and stand by her, or whatever crazy thing he said. I don’t get it.

  I don’t get him.

  “Let’s call a meeting,” I tell the girls, making their eyes go wide. “Today, after school. In our usual spot at the usual time.”

  “Are you…sure?” Alyssa asks hesitantly.

  I nod. “We can discuss what needs to happen next. Maybe we should disband. At the very least, go on a temporary hiatus. I don’t know. But we need to talk.”

  “Sounds good,” Maggie says cheerily right as the last bell rings. “See ya later, Penelope!”

  I watch them go, not caring that I’m late. Like any teacher is going to give me a tardy notice today.

  I’m practically a walking dead girl. Who’s going to give me shit after I’ve lost three of my very best friends?

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  “I’m so glad you made it today,” I tell the Larks—all five of them, plus me. We’re sitting in conference room three at the library and not a one of them was late. “I appreciate your promptness.”

  They nod and smile, visibly squirming in their seats. They’re clearly uncomfortable and I suppose I can’t blame them, but I’m not here to coddle them. It’s business as usual today, though I have a feeling we’re going to shut down business—on a temporary basis. I don’t have the heart to close the Larks permanently.

  But I might not have a choice.

  “How are you feeling, Penelope?” asks Jessica, another one of our quiet junior Larks. I bet you didn’t even know she existed, huh?

  Well, she does. And while I appreciate her question, I don’t want to look weak in front of these girls, either.

  I’m running on pure adrenaline, fear, and anger. Cass and I haven’t talked about—or made up from—our earlier conversation in the hall before first period. I’m sti
ll angry, and he knows it. He’s keeping his distance.

  Whatever.

  He’s just like everyone else at this school. They’ve all kept their distance. Brogan Pearson wasn’t here today, and his fellow “bros” stared at me in the caf during lunch like I was going to come after them with a machete and chop them to bits. Courtney wasn’t at school, either, and I’m guessing she’s the one they really fear. Since she’s not here, though…

  They’re focused on me.

  I was called into Mrs. Adney’s office yet again after lunch, and she offered me grief counseling.

  “We’re worried about you,” Mrs. Adney said, her expression as soft as her voice, which was unusual. “Especially after what happened to Danielle. I know you two were exceptionally close.”

  “She was my best friend.” I was so proud my voice didn’t shake.

  “I know she was. You and Dani were very close. Everything that’s happened these last few weeks has taken a toll on you, I’m sure.” Her gaze met mine. “We’ll understand if you might need a break from school.”

  “I don’t want a break,” I told her. “What I need is for things to return to normal. If I stay away and hide at home, then nothing’s fixed. I need to get back to my routine.”

  Mrs. Adney nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “Just know my door is open to you, always. If you need to talk, if you need advice, want me to introduce you to the grief counselor, whatever. I’m here for you, Penelope.”

  Her words meant a lot. I could tell she really was worried about me.

  But I need to soldier on, not wallow in my sadness. Courtney isn’t here. They’ll figure out soon enough she’s the one who did it.

  “We took it upon ourselves to organize another candlelight vigil,” Alyssa says, breaking through my thoughts. “This time to honor all three girls, but especially Dani, since we just lost her.”

  I’m stunned. “You planned it without me?”

  “Well, we figured you were torn up over Dani’s death. We wanted to be there for you and help out in any way we could,” Alyssa explains.

  “We’re not trying to take anything away from you, since you’re the Larks president,” Maggie adds, ever the diplomat. “We just wanted to help.”

  “I…appreciate it. Thank you.” I’m not used to the juniors taking initiative and making decisions. I didn’t do it when I was a junior. Yes, I was groomed to become the president, but when I was a junior, I never challenged the seniors. What they said was truth. What they told us to do, we did without question. They were the leaders, grooming us to take over. We went along with their decisions, never once challenging them.

  Circumstances have changed. Our seniors are gone, and I need the help. I appreciate that they’re taking the lead.

  They both look pleased by my approval. Alyssa is practically bouncing in her seat. “The candlelight vigil is tomorrow night at seven here at the school. We have everything arranged, and Mrs. Adney wants to speak. Maybe—if you’re feeling up to it—you could talk about Dani and the girls, too.”

  “Maybe.” I’m surprised Mrs. Adney wants to talk, but this is her school and she’s been quiet these last few weeks, letting Mr. Rose do all the official talking. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk about Dani without crying.”

  The sympathetic looks on all the girls’ faces make me feel better—and also push me to the verge of tears.

  “If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay,” Grace says, and the other girls nod. “We’ll be here for you. We’ll all stand around you tomorrow night when you talk, if you want our support.”

  “That would be great,” I say softly. My anger has deflated, and I can’t believe it, but I’ve actually got the warm fuzzies for my fellow Larks. Most of the time we treat one another like the competition—and not the friendly kind. We’re all fighting to be the top girl, the leader, the one who gets the most college acceptances, the most votes at homecoming, the most…everything. The only one I got along consistently with was Dani, and only because we’ve been best friends since the sixth grade.

  I wipe away the tears that try to fall, sniffing discreetly. I miss Dani so much it hurts.

  “We’ve got your back, Penelope,” Maggie says with a smile.

  I’m tempted to hug them all. So I do, quickly and quietly, stepping away from them before we all collapse into a flood of tears.

  “Okay.” I clear my throat. “Now that we have that handled, we should move on to other business. Is there anything else one of you would like to discuss?” I look around the table, but no one is raising their hand or nodding. They all look at one another, like they’re unsure, and so I decide to go for it. “I think we should seriously consider putting a temporary halt to the Larks activities.”

  “Are you sure?” Grace asks, her voice hushed.

  I nod, pressing my lips together so I don’t break out in a sob. “All the seniors are gone except me. Courtney probably won’t come back to school, and I don’t want to find replacements. I don’t have the strength to go out and recruit new Larks members. We usually reserve that until spring. So I’m thinking…”

  My voice is shaking, and I close my eyes to ward off another round of tears. I hate that this is happening. My entire high school career I strove toward this moment, and now that I have to close down the Larks, a group that meant everything to me for more than a year, it’s heartbreaking.

  “Wait until the spring?” Alyssa adds when I don’t say anything else.

  “But that’s months away!” Maggie looks crushed.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I know you girls wanted the full Larks experience. But we aren’t full Larks right now. We’ve been cut down. And I think we need to take some time off to regroup, and recuperate. I believe it’s for the best,” I tell them. “So let’s vote on it. All in favor to temporarily retire the Larks for the next six months?”

  They all reluctantly raise their hands, even me.

  “Then it’s settled.” I rest my laced hands on the table. “We’ll be back in business in March. Until then, let’s stay in touch, take care of one another when someone is in need, and please, think about who you’d like to recruit to become a Lark for next year.”

  Alyssa’s gaze meets mine. I can see it in her more and more every time we’re together. She’s going to make a perfect Larks president. “Thank you for everything, Penelope. You’ve been a great leader.”

  “So sorry this has all happened on your watch,” Maggie adds.

  “We’ll be there for you tomorrow, too. Don’t forget,” Alyssa continues, a reassuring smile on her face.

  We wrap up plans for tomorrow’s candlelight vigil and then one by one, each girl files out of the conference room, until I’m the last one left. I gather my things, grab my backpack, and leave the room, walking through the mostly empty library and waving at the librarian before I exit the building.

  Outside, it’s cloudy, the air cold and bringing with it the possibility of rain. I head toward the senior lot on the other side of campus and tug my sweater closer, walking briskly through the school grounds.

  No one is around, not even for after school practice, which is odd. But things have been canceled or postponed, just like the Larks, so it’s not too surprising. Everyone’s in mourning, they’re all afraid to have a good time or admit that they weren’t affected by the girls’ deaths. But eventually life goes on.

  Even if we don’t want it to.

  I hear a noise, like a snapped twig or a kicked rock, and I glance over my shoulder, seeing no one. I walk faster, looking around, hyperaware of my surroundings.

  And then it hits me.

  I didn’t drive my car to school.

  My dad brought me.

  My shoulders sag and I blow out a harsh breath. Cass said he’d take me home, but he’s nowhere to be found, considering we got into that stupid fight. He totally brushed me off.

  That hurts.

  I stop in front of the main office and pull out my phone, trying to call my dad. He n
ever responds to texts, and he rarely answers his cell if he’s working.

  No surprise, the call goes straight to voicemail.

  I try my mom next, which is an even bigger shot in the dark. She’s the worst with her phone. Dad says she only uses it for outgoing calls, and he’s not too far off the mark. She doesn’t really text. She rarely carries her phone with her—like she legitimately forgets it at home most of the time. She claims she’d rather live “a real life,” versus being glued to her phone twenty-four-seven.

  Like a miracle, though, she answers on the fourth ring. “Penny, are you all right?” Mom sounds breathless.

  “Can you come pick me up at school? I forgot I didn’t have a ride home.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.” She ends the call before I can even say anything and I glance around, hating how quiet campus is. How desolate it feels.

  I’m stuck here for the next ten minutes. All alone.

  And I don’t like it. At all.

  “Hey.”

  I turn at the sound of the familiar voice to find Maggie standing about ten feet away, a weird look on her face. “Oh hey, Maggie.”

  She’s frowning. “What are you doing here?”

  “My dad brought me to school this morning, and I don’t have my car.” I smile weakly, but her expression doesn’t change. “My mom is coming to get me, though.”

  “Oh.” She takes a few steps toward me, tilting her head to the side. “Do you want me to wait with you?”

  Relief floods me and I nod, curling my fingers around my backpack strap. “That would be great.”

  A car engine suddenly sounds, and I whirl around to see a silver Lexus SUV suddenly pull up to the curb. The passenger-side window rolls down, revealing Cass behind the wheel with a grim look on his face. “You thought I’d ditched you, huh?” His voice is flat. “You didn’t even text me.”

  I shrug, hating that he’s right.

  “I saw you head toward the library right after school, so I figured you had a Larks meeting.” I nod my answer as I start to approach the SUV. “I’ve been waiting around for the past thirty minutes for you to appear. Just noticed you, so I thought I’d come over here and get you. If you still want a ride, that is.”