Cruel Love

by Kate Brian

  “I understand,” Ariana said calmly.

  She turned around and used the very tip of the syringe to prick the tiny tube carrying the lifeblood into Lexa’s vein. Then, ever so quickly, she pushed down on the plunger, emptying all the air into the tube.

  Lexa’s eyes opened, focusing on Ariana’s face as Ariana dropped her hands down to her sides and behind her back, tucking the syringe out of view.

  “Thank you, Ana. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Suddenly, Lexa’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open as she gasped out in pain. Her hand fluttered up from the mattress as if reaching for her chest, but there was no time. It sank back against the sheets again, and the line on her heart monitor went flat.

  Quickly, Ariana returned the syringe to its proper place, ripped off the gloves, and shoved them into her pockets. Then she lunged for the door, as any surprised, panicked visitor might do under the circumstances. She was just reaching for the handle, when the door flew open, almost taking her down.

  “What happened?” a male orderly shouted at her.

  “I … I don’t know,” Ariana stuttered, backing herself against the wall as a crash cart came careening through. “She just … one second she was talking and then she gasped and closed her eyes and … is she going to be all right?”

  “You need to go, Miss.” A nurse placed her hands on Ariana’s arms and shoved her out the door. Mrs. Greene was just stepping out of the elevator with a cup of coffee and nearly collided with Ariana. Her face went slack and the coffee hit the floor.

  “Lexa?” she said tentatively. The she saw what was going on inside the room and screamed. “Lexa!”

  Ariana’s friends jumped up and gathered around the doorway of the waiting area, clinging to one another, straining to see what was going on. Jasper stepped forward and pulled Ariana back, away from the commotion.

  “What happened?” Soomie asked tearfully. “Ana? What happened?”

  Ariana swallowed hard. For the first time in the last several minutes the whole world was in sharp focus. She could see the freckles on Maria’s face, the stubble on Palmer’s chin, the striations in Tahira’s lips. They all looked so frightened. So devastated. So sad.

  And she had caused it. This time, it was all down to her.

  But what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Lexa spill all her secrets. The girl would have ruined everything. She would have trashed the life that Ariana had worked so tirelessly to build. If Kaitlynn’s body were exhumed, it would be about five minutes before the authorities figured out she was actually an escaped convict, then another ten minutes before they realized that Briana Leigh Covington was actually Ariana Osgood. Ariana would have been back in jail before she could blink.

  There was no way Ariana could let Lexa do that to her. If Lexa wanted to screw with her own life, that was her business, but Ariana would not let Lexa screw with hers. Not now. Not when she was so close to having every little thing she’d always wanted.

  She must die … she must die … she must die …

  Both Reed’s and Lexa’s faces swam in Ariana’s vision. Her brain began to prickle and she closed her eyes. For a moment, they were the same person, Lexa’s round chin, Reed’s sharp cheekbones, Lexa’s green eyes, Reed’s split-ended hair.

  “Ana?” Jasper was saying. “Ana? Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

  Ariana shook her head. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “No,” she said, her voice harsh. “No. I’m f—”

  Suddenly, the tumult in Lexa’s room died. Silence reigned. The heart monitor was turned off, quieting the incessant tone.

  “No!” Lexa’s mother screeched, clinging to the doorjamb as the doctor tried to reach for her. “Noooooooo!”

  “Oh my God,” Maria whispered.

  Soomie buried her face in Adam’s chest. Palmer let out a strangled cry. Conrad turned around and walked off by himself, his hands over his face. Ariana simply stared. Stared at the doctor’s eyes as he gazed down at Lexa’s grieving mother.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “She’s gone.”

  WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

  “Soomie, you’ve been up all night. You have to try to get some sleep,” Maria said soothingly. Ariana stood inside the doorway of Soomie’s single dorm room—the room she’d had to herself ever since her roommate Brigit Rhygstead had died almost two months ago. She had never seen Soomie look quite so disheveled, quite so exhausted, quite so unfocused. She sat in the center of her bed, still wearing the same clothes she’d had on all night and day—skinny jeans, a chunky black cable knit sweater, and low-heeled black boots. The sweater was pulled down over her knees all the way to her ankles, and her knees were shoved up under her chin. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she rocked forward and back, staring down and to the right at the base of the wall next to her bed.

  Ariana walked to Soomie’s desk, put down the bag full of comfort foods she’d just acquired from the café and glanced at Maria. Maria’s brown eyes were pained as she rubbed Soomie’s back with her flat hand. “What’s … going on?”

  “She was awake.” Soomie’s voice was flat and toneless. “She was awake and she was going to be fine. She was awake and we were all going to get to see her.”

  “I know, Soom, but just because she’d woken up … that didn’t mean she was completely healed,” Maria said, leaning forward in Soomie’s desk chair, angling toward the bed. “The doctors must have missed something.”

  Yeah, like a big, deadly air bubble in her vein, Ariana thought, watching Soomie closely. Her eyes were shot through with red and her nose was swollen. Her black hair hung in clumps around her shoulders and she kept tapping her fingers on her shins, like she was playing piano or hitting the keys on her BlackBerry.

  “But she was awake, and I was going to get to see her,” Soomie said. One tear dropped from her eye onto her knee.

  Maria looked up at Ariana, her own face drawn and tired. It was amazing how grief seemed to age people. Just looking at Maria now, Ariana could perfectly imagine how she was going to look at thirty years old. Still pretty, but in a dulled way.

  “She’s been saying some variation of that, and only that, for the past half hour,” Maria said, keeping her voice down.

  Soomie’s head snapped up. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not even here!” she shouted.

  Both Ariana and Maria jumped. Maria raised her hands and pushed her chair backward. “I’m sorry. I was starting to think you were going catatonic on us.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’m not crazy, okay? I’m not Lexa,” Soomie snapped.

  She shoved herself up from the bed and crossed over to the far wall. The school had long since removed Brigit’s bed and her other furniture—a favor they hadn’t yet granted Ariana, even though she’d been without a roommate since Halloween—so the wall was completely bare. Soomie let out a groan.

  “I just don’t get it,” she said, whirling to face the others. “Lexa had never been depressed a day in her life. Why did she do it? What could have possibly happened that would make her kill herself? Why didn’t she just tell us about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Maria said quietly, slumping in her chair. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  Ariana swallowed against her dry throat. “She had been acting a little strange lately, though,” she said, knowing full well that the girl had been acting just this side of bonkers. She felt as if she should try to come up with some reasonable explanation for all of this—some way to make Soomie feel better. “Was there … I mean, could there be a history of mental illness in her family or something?”

  “The Greenes? Please,” Soomie scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “They’re like America’s most perfect family.”

  “Well, except for the infidelity,” Maria pointed out. “And the constant power struggles.”

  “And the ego-mongering, and the mind games,” Ariana added. “They do have a thing for extreme behavior.”


  Soomie looked at them like they were losing IQ points by the moment. “They’re in politics! Hello?”

  “Okay. Fair point,” Maria said. She pressed her slim hands against her thighs as she stood and crossed to the picture window looking out over the icy waters of the Potomac. “I just can’t believe she’s actually gone. Lexa Greene. Dead. We’re never going to see Lexa again.”

  Ariana and Soomie walked over slowly and stood at Maria’s side. In the distance, a wide-winged gull swooped over the water, dipping and diving, before finally perching on a low, flat rock on the far bank. Quietly, Ariana’s stomach grumbled. She wondered how long they were going to stand here in silent contemplation. There was a ham-and-cheese croissant in that bag across the room, calling her name. She glanced sidelong at Maria and Soomie and told herself to suck it up. These were her friends, after all. The only ones she had left, aside from Jasper and possibly Tahira.

  “What was the last thing she said to you, Ana?” Soomie asked, her voice hushed but hopeful.

  Ariana thought back, wondering if she should lie. But what could be more perfectly poetic than Lexa’s actual final words?

  “She said, ‘What would I do without you?’”

  Soomie’s eyes brimmed with tears. Maria covered her mouth with one hand. Ariana let out a melancholic sigh.

  “I guess now we’re all going to have to figure out what we’re going to do without her,” she said.

  Soomie started to cry in earnest and Maria turned toward her, wrapping her up in her arms.

  “I don’t think I can do this, you guys,” Soomie sputtered, her whole body shaking. “I don’t think I can take any more of this. Another funeral, another wake, seeing her parents …”

  “Shhhh.” Maria stroked her hair. Ariana put one arm around Soomie’s shoulders and rested her cheek against the top of her head. Before long, Maria was crying, too, and soon Ariana felt tears streaming down her cheeks as well as they all grieved for their fallen friend.

  FIGMENTS

  As the white casket was slowly, painstakingly lowered into the ground, Mrs. Greene fell to her knees in the dirt. The sound that escaped her throat was like something from another, tortured reality—loud and shrill and throaty at once. A tall woman who could only have been her sister crouched next to her in her high heels, trying in vain to haul her back up. A pair of photographers swooped in for a better shot, but Senator Greene turned his wide shoulders toward them, barring their way. Throughout the funeral service at the church, the paparazzi had managed to be respectful, but apparently this unbridled show of emotion was more than they could resist.

  “Lexa! Lexa!” Mrs. Greene wailed, reaching toward the massive hole in front of her.

  Ariana finally turned her head, pressing her face into Jasper’s shoulder. He held her tightly and whispered into her hair, but she couldn’t make out the words. Next to her, Maria sobbed uncontrollably. Here and there throughout the large crowd, sorrowful moans and strangled cries rose up toward the bright blue sky, as several of the mourners found themselves unequal to the task of holding it all inside.

  “Can we get out of here?” Ariana whimpered.

  “Of course,” Jasper said.

  The people on the outskirts started to break away. Ariana looked around and saw that many of her classmates were exchanging hesitant glances, unsure of what to do. Across the way, April held hands with Kassie Sharpe. Conrad stared at the casket, a rose in one hand, stock-still and bleary-eyed. Tahira and Rob clung to each other as Tahira tried to get control of her breathing. Behind her, Reed Brennan slipped a pair of dark sunglasses over her eyes and turned toward the waiting line of cars.

  Ariana’s heart stopped. Reed? No. No. No. What was she doing here? She took a step toward the casket—toward Reed—and almost tripped as Jasper started to tug her the other way.

  “Ana? Where are you—?”

  Reed could not be here. She had no right. No place. Ariana’s fingers curled into fists as her vision started to prickle over with gray spots. Suddenly, the drumbeat that had been silent for the past two days thrummed to life inside her skull.

  She must die … she must die … she must die …

  Then Reed turned and looked right at Ariana. And it wasn’t Reed at all. This girl’s face was wider, her nose broader, and in a black Calvin Klein she was certainly dressed better. Slowly, Ariana’s eyes cleared and her body temperature began to cool. The drumbeat quieted to a dull thud.

  “Ana? Are you okay?” Jasper asked.

  Ariana turned, the wind tossing her hair in front of her face. She saw that a few of their other friends had gathered to wait for her. Adam was there with Quinn and Jessica, two of the sophomores who used to wait on Lexa hand and foot. Soomie, however, was nowhere to be found. Ariana could scarcely believe that her friend would miss the funeral. Ariana thought back to the other day—Soomie rocking back and forth on her dorm room bed—and felt a thump of foreboding. Her friend’s absence could only mean that something was very, very wrong.

  “Yeah … yeah, I’m …” She glanced over her shoulder, but the Reed-like girl was gone. Palmer was walking off in the opposite direction between his parents, his head bowed. Conrad still stood over the grave, staring into it, one red rose hanging limply from his fingers. “Let’s just go.”

  She looped her arm around Jasper’s and Maria took her other hand. Together they began to walk slowly toward the parking lot. Tahira and Rob caught up with them as they made their way over the clipped grass, skirting ancient headstones and stepping around a recently covered grave.

  “When’s everybody leaving for Thanksgiving?” Maria asked, sniffling.

  “My parents are flying here and we’re all going to my cousins’ house,” Rob said, holding Tahira tight to his side.

  “And since my family is in the UAE, I’ll be going with him,” Tahira said.

  “I’m hopping a train in less than an hour,” Adam said, tugging a pair of cotton gloves onto his hands. “That’s why I had to bring this.” He gestured toward the Atherton-Pryce duffel bouncing against his hip. Sticking out of the outside pocket was a copy of a local newspaper, and a smaller headline caught Ariana’s eye.

  GEORGETOWN SOCCER STAR INJURED IN CRASH

  “Adam, do you mind if I …?”

  Hands trembling, Ariana plucked the paper from the pocket.

  “Sure,” Adam said. “Go ahead.”

  Ariana stepped carefully, keeping pace with her friends as she scanned the article. Her eyes instantly found Reed’s name and her mouth went dry. Apparently, one of her teammates had gotten drunk and tried to drive home from a party. That was why Reed had been at the hospital the other night.

  What are the chances? Ariana thought now, carefully folding the paper and handing it back to Adam. What are the chances that we would both end up in the same ER on the same night because our friends were hurt?

  It was fate. It had to be. Someone had put Reed right in front of her that night for a reason. All of this was Reed’s fault, after all. If Reed had never come to Easton Academy in the first place, Thomas Pearson would still be alive. If Thomas were alive, Ariana never would have gone to the Brenda T. and met Kaitlynn Nottingham. If she’d never met Kaitlynn, she never would have known Briana Leigh Covington existed. Briana Leigh’s death was on Reed’s head. As was Brigit Rhygstead’s, and Lexa’s as well. Clearly, Reed had been placed in that ER on that very night because the universe was trying to balance itself. The universe wanted Reed dead.

  She must die … she must die … she must die …

  “Come on. We’ll drop you off at the station on our way back to campus,” Jasper offered to Adam.

  “Cool, thanks,” Adam said, smiling gratefully.

  Ariana forced herself to look straight ahead and not stare at the newspaper now coiled into a tube in Adam’s hands. The universe was trying to tell her something, and she had now gotten the message loud and clear.

  It all came back to Reed Brennan.

  Kill Reed and all these deaths wou
ld be avenged. Kill Reed, and there would finally, finally be justice.

  As she popped open the door of her silver Porsche, Ariana felt much calmer and completely resolved. She would go back to her dorm, finish packing for Jasper’s, and spend the rest of the afternoon until her flight working on the Reed problem. The worst was over. It was time to focus. Ariana Osgood had a job to do.

  UNCLE JAZZ

  “Uncle Jazz! Uncle Jazz! Look what I made for you!”

  Jasper’s adorable, towheaded nephew, Ben, came tearing into the banquet-size dining room in the Montgomerys’ stately southern mansion, proudly carrying a mishmash of Play-Doh. Around the table, the adults still lingered over coffee and pie. Ariana sat next to Jasper on one side of the festively decorated table, with his older sister Jacqueline to her left. Across the way, Ben’s parents sat, watching their progeny proudly. Jasper’s oldest sister, Jessica, was massively pregnant once again, and her husband, Sherman, hadn’t let go of her hand for more than thirty seconds all night. At the head and foot of the table were Jasper’s parents: Mr. Montgomery pushed back from his plate to make more room for his ample belly; Mrs. Montgomery perched at the edge of her chair as she sipped her coffee. Ben had long since vacated the dining room, unable to sit still, and had been occupying himself with his Play-Doh in the parlor for the last half hour.

  “Wow!” Jasper crowed, pulling Ben into his lap. “That is the scariest looking monster I’ve ever seen!”

  Ariana smiled. Jasper was so cute with Ben, it made her heart hurt.

  Ben’s face, however, fell like a stone. “It’s not a monster,” he said, fiddling with one of the buttons on Jasper’s Ralph Lauren shirt. “It’s you!”

  Jasper hesitated a second as Jessica covered up a laugh, but he recovered quickly.

  “And as we all know, I’m the scariest monster south of the Mason-Dixon line!” he said, opening his eyes wide and letting out a growl.