“‘Kind of’? So you’ve spoken with him since your date?”
Hands trembling, Adrienne fiddled with a piece of her hair.
“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with communication. It all depends on what you say. For example, Josh called me last week. He wanted to go out. But I told him straight up, it’s not happening.”
Sara Beth looked at her sister and nodded.
Saskia dug her nails through the damp soil, thankful that no one was paying attention to her. Any mention of Josh still made her heart race and her face flush with guilt, especially when she was around Paige.
“That’s what I told Benny,” Adrienne insisted. “That it’s not gonna work.”
Paige eyed her skeptically.
“It’s not my fault that he keeps calling,” Adrienne said. “It’s like he won’t give up.”
“You have to make him give up.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
“Tell him you have zero interest. That your new man is the one.”
“I have . . .”
“Really? I find that hard to believe. Especially since you and Benny were making out in the park last night.”
Adrienne blinked rapidly. “I . . . that was just . . .”
“Just what?”
“I don’t know how it happened,” she murmured. “I mean, I love Emery, I really do. But during the day, I don’t know, sometimes I doubt what’s happening. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I start to think it’s all in my head: Nurse Reynolds, the wounded soldiers, everything. I . . . I panic. That’s why I called Benny last night. I was freaking out. I—I made a bad decision.” Hands still trembling, Adrienne picked up the pen again and began to doodle. Saskia figured she was trying to avoid eye contact with Paige.
“That’s inexcusable,” said Sara Beth.
“Unconscionable,” added Paige.
Suddenly Saskia couldn’t sit quiet any longer. This time it wasn’t a matter of choosing sides—Paige’s or Adrienne’s. She just couldn’t stand by and watch someone get picked part.
“I disagree,” she said. “I think Adrienne’s just confused. We all get confused, right?”
Adrienne looked at her gratefully.
“No, Saskia,” said Paige sharply. “We do not all get confused.”
“Really?” Saskia asked, “You’ve never once made a mistake?”
“Don’t be childish,” Paige snapped. “There’s a difference between making a mistake and deliberately breaking a rule you’ve agreed to follow for the rest of your life.”
Adrienne applied so much pressure to the pen that the nib ripped right though the paper. “Are you going to kick me out of the club, Paige?”
“She doesn’t have the authority to do that,” said Lila, giving Paige a stern look. “We make decisions as a group.”
“Yes, but our decisions must reflect the pledge and the rules,” Paige reminded her. “The fact is, Adrienne broke rule number thirteen. Which means if she wants to stay, she has to be punished.”
“I do—I do want to stay,” Adrienne blubbered.
“Then you have to accept the punishment we decide.”
“Paige . . .” Saskia said.
“What?” Paige demanded.
“Come on. She doesn’t deserve to be punished.”
“Did you or did you not agree to the club’s official rules of membership?” Paige asked.
“You know I did,” replied Saskia.
“Then you are as accountable as Adrienne is. Rule number twelve. ‘MBC members must support their club sisters and help them remain HONEST.’”
Saskia shook her head and glanced at Lila. “A simple apology from Adrienne would be enough punishment for me,” she said.
“For me, too,” agreed Lila.
Paige sighed. “Listen, we can’t let her off that easy—for Emery’s sake. It wouldn’t be right.”
“I agree with my sister,” said Sara Beth. “The rules are the rules. They’re there for a reason.”
Saskia felt a rising dread. She didn’t want Adrienne to suffer. Especially when she felt partly responsible. No matter what the girls had signed or agreed to, getting punished for a minor lapse in judgment didn’t seem fair. They were teenagers, after all. And no teenager on the planet didn’t regret something. Plus, the girls’ relationships with the Mercury Boys were strange, confusing, and ambiguous. There was no road map for a club involving dead people—it was uncharted territory. No wonder Adrienne had messed up.
And there was something else that nagged at Saskia: the fact that the Sampras sisters had so much power, and yet shared less than the other girls. Lila and Adrienne had confided in Saskia about their complicated love lives. Saskia had confided in Lila about—well—everything. But Paige and Sara Beth hardly ever revealed their innermost feelings, despite having so much control of the club.
It didn’t seem fair. Saskia wanted to say this, about how, regardless of the official rules, the girls needed to allow one another to be vulnerable without fear of judgment or retribution. But one look at Paige’s stern face, and Saskia’s resolve faltered.
And then the opportunity was lost.
“Fine, I accept it,” Adrienne said. “I accept the punishment.”
Paige led the way through the branches toward the front of the house. The girls followed warily, Saskia bringing up the rear. Adrienne was directly in front of her. Saskia wanted to reassure her or grab her hand and run away. But she walked obediently in the line Paige had created until they reached the fountain. Water gurgled down the long hair and bulbous breasts of the mermaid, who up close looked obscene with her outlandish, Barbie-like proportions.
“The punishment involves Meryl Streep?” Lila asked disbelievingly.
Paige nodded.
“What is it?”
“Adrienne will dunk her head in the basin,” said Paige, pointing. “And keep it there for sixty seconds.”
Adrienne’s eyes widened. “That’s too long,” she sputtered.
“I can hold my breath for two minutes in the pool, no problem.”
“But you’re a swimmer!”
“You’ll survive.”
“It takes three minutes to die,” added Sara Beth.
“This is a terrible idea,” said Lila. Paige gave her a steely look.
“Lila’s right,” said Saskia. “It’s excessive. We need to think of something else.”
Avoiding Paige’s eyes, she dipped her fingers into the basin. The water was surprisingly cold for such a warm night. Nervously, she looked toward the road, then toward the neighboring houses, which were set some distance away. She wondered if anyone was watching them. She couldn’t help but hope someone—an adult—would inquire about what they were doing and tell them to stop.
“I’m not surprised you keep disagreeing with me, Saskia,” said Paige.
Saskia looked at her curiously.
“‘Benny cares about you a lot. That’s clear,’” Paige said, repeating one of the texts Saskia had written to Adrienne.
“‘Intense is better than uninterested,’” added Sara Beth sarcastically.
Adrienne cupped her hand over her mouth. “Saskia, I didn’t show them. Honest!”
Saskia gawked at Paige. “Where did you read that?” she demanded.
“On your phone—obviously.”
“You know my password?” Saskia asked incredulously.
“It’s easy to figure out just about anything if you pay attention—and as you can see, I have to,” Paige retorted snarkily.
“You shouldn’t have been looking at her phone,” Lila hissed. “That’s an invasion of privacy.”
“Tell me which is worse—a minor invasion of privacy or Saskia going against the rules and endangering Adrienne’s relationship with her Mercury Boy?”
“But that’s Saskia’s person
al property,” Lila argued.
Saskia put her hand on Lila’s arm. “It’s okay, Lila. I can speak for myself.”
“If you insist,” her friend said with a shrug.
Saskia wasn’t sure why the night had taken such a dark turn, or why Paige was so pissed off, but she wanted to turn things around. If only everyone would calm down and be rational.
“When I talked with Adrienne, I was trying to be fair. I was trying to understand Benny’s perspective as much as Emery’s,” Saskia said, resisting the urge to chew on her fingernails.
“Trying to be fair, okay,” muttered Paige cynically. “So you believe in fairness?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind taking your share of the punishment.”
Saskia blinked hard. She had a feeling that the situation was going to deteriorate no matter what she said.
“Snooping is nowhere near as bad as breaking rule number twelve, Saskia. Or rule number thirteen, Adrienne,” Paige replied coolly.
“We can’t just overlook what you’ve done,” added Sara Beth.
Paige nodded. “Sadly, Saskia will get the same punishment as Adrienne: one minute underwater.”
“Oh, come on!” said Lila incredulously.
“It’s not a bad punishment,” Paige replied, “all things considered.”
“It’s ridiculous, is what it is.”
“What do you think Emery would suggest if he could have seen Adrienne last night?” Sara Beth asked.
Adrienne, who’d been quiet, suddenly raised her hand. “I’m okay with one minute,” she said. “I guess I deserve it.”
“You do,” Paige agreed.
“I’m . . . speechless,” Lila spat, turning to Saskia with a stunned expression. “Are we in a Black Mirror episode or something?”
The word “mirror” stirred something in Saskia. With an ardent pang, she remembered the phrase “mirror with a memory,” and then thought of Cornelius.
For the first time, she considered how Cornelius might feel if she were to betray him in some vital way, as Adrienne had betrayed Emery. It pained her to think of disappointing him. She realized that while she and the other girls had a doorway to the past, Cornelius and the other Mercury Boys didn’t have a window to the future. They couldn’t see events in the modern world, never mind react to them—everything after their deaths was beyond their control. Their sheer powerlessness struck Saskia as cruel.
“Lila, why don’t you keep time?” Paige suggested, disrupting Saskia’s thoughts. “Adrienne and Saskia should keep their heads underwater for sixty seconds—no more, no less.”
“No way,” Lila replied. “Saskia, Adrienne, let’s get outta here. This has gone too far.”
“If you leave, you can’t be a member of the club again—ever,” Paige said matter-of-factly.
“I don’t care,” Lila scoffed.
“I do,” Saskia said softly.
“What?”
“I did sign the contract,” Saskia reminded Lila. “And I did break a rule.”
“Saskia, don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid. I’m trying to make good on a promise.” She looked Paige in the eye. “I don’t think you should have gone through my phone, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. The boys deserve better.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” demanded Lila. “You’re . . . brainwashed.”
“And you’re overprotective,” Saskia snapped, surprised by her own harshness. “I can make my own decisions.”
Lila twitched with anger. She opened her mouth to stay something, stopped, and then tried again. “Okay, Miss Self-Sufficient. Since you can take care of yourself, find your own ride home.”
“Come on, Lila, don’t overreact.”
“Overreact?” Lila repeated in disbelief. “Seriously? You think I’m overreacting when you’re about to drown yourself?”
“Lila . . .”
But Lila was already striding furiously across the sisters’ immaculate lawn.
“Well, that makes things easier,” said Sara Beth said flatly.
“Okay, enough already,” said Paige. “Let’s get this over with. Adrienne, you’re up first. Saskia, you keep time. Sara Beth, you and I will do the heavy lifting.”
As if on autopilot, Saskia lifted her hands to catch the stopwatch Paige tossed to her. She had accepted the punishment, but the last thing she wanted to do was keep time. If anything, she wanted to rewind time—to go back to when the girls were jumping around the house without a care. How had things changed so quickly?
Saskia stomach sank as she watched the sisters take each of Adrienne’s arms. They marched her toward the basin. Adrienne went willingly. Saskia heard a sharp splash, and then Adrienne was under. The sisters murmured to themselves, the muscles of their arms and backs visible through their skimpy summer clothes. Four hands gripped Adrienne’s body.
“Start the clock, Saskia,” Paige said.
Her fingers fumbling, Saskia pressed the button on the top of the watch. She counted aloud as the seconds passed.
“Seven, eight, nine . . .”
One eye on the stopwatch, the other on Adrienne, Saskia grew increasingly queasy—and alarmed. At first Adrienne seemed calm. Dead calm, Saskia thought somberly. But at the thirty-second mark, she began to struggle against the sisters’ grasp. The back of her head pushed up, hair afloat like pieces of orange seaweed. Unyielding, Paige and Sara Beth shoved her back down.
“Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three . . .”
Now Adrienne was fully resisting, knuckles white, fingernails clawing at the edge of the rough stone basin, making a sound like sandpaper. Saskia gritted her teeth. Adrienne surfaced, with time only to sputter and rasp before the sisters plunged her head back into the water.
“Stop it!” Saskia screamed.
Punishment was one thing, death something else entirely. Feeling overpowered and overwhelmed, she grabbed Sara Beth’s arm and tugged hard.
“Hey, get off!” Sara Beth scolded, kicking Saskia in the shin.
“You’re hurting her!” Saskia replied.
“She’ll be fine,” Paige assured her, her shoulder and arm muscles tensed. Despite all Adrienne’s flailing and the sisters’ consequently wet clothes, Paige’s voice was calm. “We’re almost done.”
At a loss, Saskia stared at the clock and willed it to move faster. The harder she concentrated, though, the slower the seconds seemed to pass. At long last, the minute was up.
“Let her go!” Saskia called out, scared that it was too late.
The sisters immediately released their hold on Adrienne, who lifted her head slowly, like it was too heavy to support. She tried to stand erect, wobbled, and collapsed. On the ground, she lay in a rag doll heap next to the fountain. Her eyes were open, but they were glassy, inscrutable. Wet hair stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Her lips were the color of unbaked clay.
“Is she all right?” Saskia heard herself whisper.
Paige knelt beside Adrienne and gently cupped her chin. “It’s over now, Adrienne. You did it.”
“She—she doesn’t look good,” Saskia said, kneeling, too. She stroked Adrienne’s face.
“She’ll be okay.”
Feeling a little woozy herself, Saskia allowed herself to believe this. She took one of Adrienne’s hands, which was cold despite the summer heat. Such a thin hand, the skin so translucent Saskia swore she could see bones and sinew, blood running through blue-green veins.
“Question,” Adrienne mumbled weakly.
“What is it?” Paige asked, leaning in.
“Am I still in the club?”
“Of course you are,” Paige said, smoothing back Adrienne’s hair from her forehead. Saskia struggled to reconcile Paige’s sudden gentleness with her behavior only seconds before.
“H
ow do you feel, Adrienne?” Saskia asked. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the way Adrienne’s orange hair had floated limply atop the water, or the way she’d struggled so hard to surface, only to be shoved back down again.
Adrienne licked her pale lips. “Glad that it’s over,” she said, attempting to smile, but grimacing instead.
“See?” Paige said, gazing at Saskia. “She’s fine, just like I’d told you.”
Saskia stared at her, remembering the things she’d said in the car.
I wouldn’t steer you wrong.
You know I think of you like a second sister, right?
I always have your best interests at heart.
Was all that really true? Was what Adrienne had just gone through a rough but ultimately fair penalty for her misconduct?
Looking at Paige’s face, which in the twilight looked strangely luminous, like an angel’s, her eyes shining with not just conviction, but also tenderness and compassion, Saskia was inclined to believe Paige knew best.
“Your turn now,” Paige told her.
Underwater, Saskia kept her eyes open. The water, which looked clear from above, was murky below, a snowstorm, a fog. The harder she looked, the less she saw. She blinked and tried to think of something, anything, other than how her lungs were already screaming for air. Soon her heartbeat became a roar in her ears. Images, blurry as the water, skittered through her mind. Her mother braiding thick black hair. Cornelius scrawling one of his ideas on paper with a fountain pen. Heather slipping a note through a slat in her locker. Her father rubbing shaving cream on his face.
Saskia wanted to call to him; she was desperate, but water plugged her mouth and ran thickly down her throat, just as it had in the pool. Now she understood how Adrienne had felt: how quickly acceptance gave rise to panic. Her whole body was shrieking for oxygen. She tried to surface. But the sisters wouldn’t let her. They kept pushing her down into that cloudy, muddled world. It didn’t matter that she kicked and bucked. It didn’t matter that she could die.
“Saskia?” The voice sounded like sonar, like a faint frequency passing through water. “Saskia, wake up.”
When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure where she was. She felt like a dingy piece of flotsam washed ashore. She tried to ask, but when she opened her mouth, water trickled out. She began to cough.
Mercury Boys Page 26