We Made It All Up, page 25
Seth’s laughter comes back to me on the biting wind as we trudge down the mountain, dodging trees and wading through snow-dense undergrowth. Now and then, the woods part to offer a vertiginous glimpse of the town’s glitter far below.
“That was pretty weird, huh?” he says. “And you made me stop. Vivvy and I didn’t talk about it till later, after Joss and Halsey broke up, but she said that’s when she knew you were important.”
“Important to what—your plan?”
I remember what he told me in the cave, and the sense of betrayal chokes me again, as dank and foul as the ancient liqueurs she fed us that night. An icy patch sends me sliding, and I hug a tree to keep from barreling into Seth. Gripping it with fingertips black with cave dirt, I imagine sap pulsing placidly through the trunk, keeping the tree alive through the winter.
I did not kill Joss. I did not.
“Your plan and Vivvy’s,” I say, picking my way down the slope after him. “You plotted revenge on Joss together, right?”
“It wasn’t like that. There was no master plan. I told you, it was more of a prank, and it wasn’t even that until around Halloween.” His jacket is a dark blotch on the snow, his voice surprisingly calm. “Last summer, Vivvy showed me that vid of Tanner and Halsey. She wanted to post it, to hurt them, but I told her Joss was the one who deserved to be hurt. Then, after the Shakespeare thing, she got this idea in her head that Joss was secretly in love with me, and I halfway believed her.”
So did I. “She tried to trap us both, to make us throw ourselves at him. She told him I liked him, and then she told Halsey I was stalking him.”
“I don’t think it was like that. Vivvy told me Halsey came to her and demanded to know the deal with you and Joss. Vivvy said you were this amazing little snowflake and Joss was smitten and Halsey should just back off. Which Halsey interpreted as you stalking him, I guess.”
The story matches what Vivvy told me, but it doesn’t change the rest of what she did. “So was it a ‘prank’ when you sawed that rung off the ladder?”
Seth stops short. “I didn’t! You know about that?”
“Yeah.” He’s just admitted he thought Joss deserved to be hurt, and I should be afraid of him, maybe, but we’ve been through too much together—Joss kissing us on the hillside, Tanner and Halsey’s taunting, the tight squeeze through the cave. Once part of my story, now Seth’s part of my life, and try as I might, I can’t see him killing Joss on purpose.
“Vivvy told me she’d done something to the ladder.” His voice has gone taut. “But I thought she was just talking, so I put it out of my head. After all, she never used that vid, right?”
“Actually…”
Before I can explain how she did use the vid, though, he goes on: “And whatever happened to Joss on Saturday, I was long gone by that time. Swear on my grandma’s grave.”
We’ve emerged from the woods on the top level of Middle-earth; the rock ledges spread below us, a canyon flattened by reflective snow. I clamber down the first two steps and hold out a hand for Seth. “I believe you. But you two did have a plan for Saturday, right?”
“Yeah.” Seth ignores my hand and plunks down on the second-highest ledge with his legs dangling, gazing into the dark. “Like I said, we were just going to humiliate him. I had my doubts, like serious doubts, but Vivvy thought it would work, and you know how she gets when she’s excited about something. The way she builds it up, it’s like you’re in a heist movie.”
I nod. I know.
“She said she’d rig up one of her aunt’s security cams in the cedars, and all we had to do was get Joss in a ‘compromising position.’ I actually bet her fifty bucks he wouldn’t touch me, but she kept insisting he secretly wanted to.”
He slides his butt off the ledge and leaps to the ground. “Guess I lost that one.”
Betrayal is still lodged in my throat as we make our way down the jogging path, but it’s less rank now, more like a flavorless wad of gum. “So when we made our pact, that’s what Vivvy really wanted you to keep quiet about. Your plans.”
“Right.” He looks at me, a flash of pale face and eyes. “That’s over, though. State police are coming to grill me tomorrow. I’m going home to find some cheap-ass ambulance-chasing lawyer, and then I’m gonna spill everything, including how Tanner and Hals tried to kill us. I’m done with sneaking around, looking over my shoulder.”
His tone is defiant, like he expects me to protest, but I just follow him down the path to the Krays’ orchard. “Do you think Vivvy could have done it?” I ask as we step among the gnarled trees, their branches velvety with snow.
“No.” He doesn’t look at me this time, his voice lower. “I mean, she wanted payback for the Defilers, for sure, but I don’t think she wanted… that. Especially not for Joss. And it’s not her style.”
“I know.” If I can’t imagine Seth picking up a mallet and smashing it into Joss’s temple, I can imagine Vivvy doing it even less.
“It was probably that psycho Tanner.” Seth kicks a stone across the yard. “I mean, he wanted Halsey all for himself, right?”
The Kray house rises above us, a silent hulk against the stars. “Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe it was me.”
He turns to face me then—but only for an instant before he crosses his arms, shivering, and turns toward the street. “Yeah, well, I’m going to let the pros sort it out from here. You got a problem with that?”
Either he’s changed his mind or our time in the cave has worked on him, too, making the possibility of my guilt shrink in the bigger picture. Or maybe he always thought Joss had it just a bit coming.
“Do what you have to. I’m going to go up and talk to Vivvy.”
At this point I don’t care if I have to pull her out of bed. There needs to be truth between us, regardless of what the “pros” decide.
Seth nods as if he gets it. “You can tell her I spilled. I don’t mind.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
“You too.” Halfway around the corner of the house, though, he stops and calls back, “If you want proof, look on her hard drive. I bet you’ll find that footage from Saturday night. I bet she hasn’t even thought about deleting it.”
Then
FIVE DAYS AGO
(SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 9:19 PM)
He’s not coming.” Seth twisted a stick in the fire. “Wish we’d brought marshmallows.”
“He’s coming,” Vivvy said. “The way he said, ‘I’m there,’ I could tell.”
Seth snorted. The stick burst into flame, and he held it aloft, a torch flaring against the pool of darkness in the valley. We’d been on the mountainside for three hours, shivering and drinking and messing with the fire.
Now and then a bat wheeled over our heads, a deeper blackness against the stars. When the sky was still light, we’d seen dozens of them, presumably emerging from the cave. Vivvy asked why they weren’t hibernating, and I explained that, for whatever reason, some Montana bats were active year-round.
Wind whistled, and I pulled up my collar and reached for the bronze-tinted bottle again. Fifteen-year-old brandy turned out to taste like cough syrup, and I was spacing it out with sips of tea from my thermos, but it was worth it for the distracting buzz in my ears and the warmth in my chest.
“Careful, Celeste,” Vivvy said. “You don’t want to pass out before he gets here.”
I rolled my eyes. With just Vivvy and Seth, I felt perfectly at ease; with Joss here, I’d have to worry about everything from my wind-driven hair to my dripping nose to my blurred vision.
“The bats look healthy to me,” said Vivvy as another one dive-bombed the hillside. “Why all this fuss about them?”
I started to explain that white-nose syndrome was slowly progressing across the continent, when Seth said, “Oh shit.” He stared into the valley, his half-burnt stick forgotten in the embers. “I think it’s him.”
He and I both stood up at once, making Vivvy say, “Don’t do that; play it cool.” We popped back down like jack-in-the-boxes, but not before I saw a tall figure with a distinct limp coming up the path, less than fifty yards away.
“Can’t fucking believe it,” Seth said under his breath.
Joss must have seen the fire, because he waved, then stuck a finger in his mouth and whistled. Seth waved back and said, “Dude,” and then we all shut up. The fire crackled, sparks soaring into black sky.
As Joss got close, we heard his quick, labored breathing. And then he was there—really there, blocking the lights of the valley, tall in his boots and jeans and barn jacket, the firelight turning his hair strawberry blond.
He circled the fire to the cave side and collapsed there, between Vivvy and me. “Longer walk than I remembered.”
“You off the crutches, man?” In the firelight, Seth’s face was sullen and indifferent, but his voice tremored.
“That’s what I decided.” Joss rubbed his bare hands over the fire. He didn’t look at any of us, just reached for the bottle. “Hey, is this the special antique hooch?”
“It’ll make you float,” Vivvy said, though she’d had only a couple of sips.
Joss took two long swigs and scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tastes like rat poison.”
“How would you know?” Seth took the bottle from him. “Someone try to poison you?”
There was an edge to his voice, but Joss just belched amiably and said, “Many have tried.” Then, for the first time since arriving, he turned to me. “’Scuse me.”
I couldn’t speak. Vivvy giggled. “You’re excused.”
Joss kept looking at me. “How’s it going, Celeste?”
He was just being polite, but there was something about having his full attention on me, even for a minute. “Okay,” I stammered. “Not looking forward to doing my Shakespeare monologue.”
“You kidding? You’re aces at that acting shit.” He reached across the listing fire to grab the bottle from Seth.
Seth held it out of reach, a playful glint in his eye. “Come get it.”
“Seriously?” But Joss rose awkwardly and circled back to Seth, who jumped to his feet and dodged and weaved a few steps down the hill, sloshing the bottle and laughing. Joss followed him, limping but game, and they acted out a slow, wobbly stage fight—pulled punches, mimed kicks—that ended with Joss’s grabbing Seth in a headlock and prying the bottle from his fingers.
I glanced at Vivvy for her reaction, but she wasn’t even watching, just tapping her phone.
This was your idea. As the guys trudged back up the hill, I cleared my throat, and she put the phone down.
They were both panting. Joss chuckled as he eased himself down on the cold grass. “Got a smoke?”
Seth rolled a joint, lit it, and took a hit. He passed it to me, and I passed it on to Joss.
“You sure?” Joss asked me. The fire captured the lucent blue of his left eye, the hint of tropical sea.
“I’m good.” To show I wasn’t a buzzkill, I reached for the bottle. Joss passed it to me, and I drank without wiping the mouth.
When I handed the bottle back to him, everything was dancing a little in the firelight; the world was no longer fluid but stop-motion. One moment everything went still, and I was alone with the stars; the next, time lurched into gear again. Things kept jumping forward without my being sure how they got there.
Suddenly the bottle was empty, and Vivvy was saying, “Let’s spin it like we’re in middle school.” And Joss was guffawing and saying okay, why not, while Seth said nothing.
And then Vivvy was spinning the bottle in the scrubby grass. It pointed back at her, more or less, so she spun it again.
It pointed at Joss. Seth came alive, making Yeah, c’mon noises, while Vivvy rose and knelt beside Joss and took his head in both of her hands.
The way she touched him reminded me of a priest, or a parody of one. She kissed him lightly on each cheek, then forehead, then lips.
“That’s all you get,” she said, and returned to her place, while Seth continued to catcall as if he were at a strip club.
Joss closed his eyes and spun the bottle. It pointed straight back at him, but instead of spinning again the way Vivvy had, he raised his palm to his lips and gave it a sloppy kiss, then hugged himself and did a surprisingly funny impression of someone feeling himself up.
We whooped with laughter, all of us sounding drunk although maybe not all of us were.
When he was done clowning like somebody in improv class, Joss handed the bottle to me. Vivvy said, “No fair. The next turn goes to the person you just kissed, and you haven’t kissed anybody.”
“Who put you in charge?” Joss gestured mock-imperiously at me. “Go on.”
This wasn’t a game I wanted to play, not a safe game, but Joss’s silly approach had put me more at ease. I found a nearly bare patch of ground and gave the bottle a spin, willing it to point at me or at no one.
It pointed at Vivvy.
“Let’s hear it for girl on girl!” Seth chanted drunkenly.
With everything flickering in time with my pulse, I couldn’t get a good look at my friend’s expression, and that was probably for the best. I crossed in back of Joss and knelt beside her.
I meant to kiss her solemnly on both cheeks, the way she’d done to me the night we ran to my house through the rain, but she turned her head abruptly, and somehow her lips were on my lips.
“Make it a real kiss,” Seth said.
I remembered why we were out here—to get Joss hot and bothered, right?—and I tried to give her a real kiss, whatever that was. At first, her lips were cold and inert, like an uncooked hot dog, and I froze inside—this wasn’t right. We wouldn’t be able to look at each other tomorrow.
But before I could flinch away, she grabbed my chin and pulled me to her from a new angle. Now she was warm and alive, opening to me, or maybe I was opening to her, I wasn’t sure.
So much of Vivvy was in that kiss—the slyness, the whimsy, and a hint of woodsmoke from her kitchen. I tasted brandy; her teeth clinked against mine. Her tongue darted between my lips just before we came apart.
It was just acting, I told myself, though I couldn’t look at her, my face flaming as I returned to my seat.
And apparently it’d worked, because when I looked up, Joss was staring at me, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “Now that’s a kiss,” he said, and heat shot from my chest up my neck, into my cheeks, all the way to the roots of my hair.
From there on, we followed Vivvy’s rules. She spun and got Seth. The two of them made a big production of it, rolling around on the ground and pretending to make out, but from what I could see, their lips barely touched.
When Seth spun, the bottle wobbled to a stop with its mouth between Joss and me but distinctly closer to Joss. Joss inched away from it, and Seth said, “Yeah, I’m not into it, either.”
“The gentlemen doth protest too much.” Vivvy sounded excited but not out of control; she wasn’t drunk like I was. “You can’t just pass, Seth, you have to forfeit,” she added.
Seth blew a scornful kiss at Joss across the fire. “That good enough?”
Joss reached over to grab the joint from him, took a long drag. “That’ll have to do,” he said, and spun the bottle so hard it nearly careened into the embers.
Around and around it went, its sleek bronze glass sparking once per circuit—nearly as old as I was, liberated from the basement’s dark and dust. The play of light was hypnotic. I closed my eyes, blood thudding against the lids, and when I opened them, it was still spinning, and somehow I knew where it would stop, where Joss was willing it to stop. I knew, I knew, I knew—
The bottle came to rest with its neck pointing directly at Seth.
“Ah, fuck,” Joss said.
Vivvy crept closer to him on hands and knees. “I think the bottle’s trying to tell you something, Joss.”
“Scared of me?” Seth asked.
Joss took another long drag on the joint. “I’m not scared. I’m just not into it.”
“You’re defying the spirit of spin the bottle, Joss,” Vivvy complained, while Seth said, “Bet I know where you wish it was pointing.”
I turned to ice.
“Kiss me first, and you can kiss her,” Seth said, too hard and mean for it to be a come-on or anything but a taunt.
“You’re making the rules now?”
Vivvy’s knees were touching Joss’s. She looked up at him shyly, a mouse appealing to a tiger. “You’ve got an unfair advantage, Thorssen. Everybody wants you, and you know it.”
“Fuck that.” He handed her the joint, but she passed it across to Seth. “Stop talking to me like you think I’m stupid.”
His eyes darted to me then, and I saw a question in them, or maybe an appeal. Maybe he wanted to know I didn’t think he was stupid, or maybe he wanted me to stop this like I’d stopped Seth in English class.
But I wasn’t going to, not this time. I’d kissed Vivvy, after all.
“I want to see you kiss Seth, Joss,” I said.
Seth said, “Hear that?”
“It’s not an insult, Joss.” Vivvy sounded very earnest, and abruptly very drunk. “You’re special, and that means you owe it to us to spread the love around.”
“You owe it,” Seth repeated.
“Don’t owe you anything.” Joss scrubbed fingers through his hair.
“Oh?”
The word hung in the cold night, in the cellar smell of rotting leaves and the black of the cedars and the closeness of the cave. And at last, into the silence, Joss said, “Okay. Okay.”
He started with Vivvy, because she was the closest. When his head dipped toward her, a fist clenched in my chest, but I forced myself to watch.…
Now
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 11:07 PM
The Impala isn’t on the street where Vivvy usually parks it. Light shines in Bram’s bedroom, I can see from the street, but not in hers.
I don’t know where Vivvy would go this late, but it doesn’t matter, because I remember what Seth said, that I should look on her hard drive for proof of his story. And I know where to find the spare key to the back door: on the porch under the rusty paint can that sits beside the stacked wood.
