Frayed (9 page)

I blinked back tears. “Cheating is one thing, but murder…?”

“Most murders aren’t planned,” said Amanda. “Who’s saying this wasn’t a heat-of-the-moment thing?”

“This one wasn’t,” I insisted, grasping at wisps of information. “Whoever it was, Kesley must have trusted them if she was willing to go all the way to Lake O’Hara, right? If Jackson
had
killed her, why would he bother with all that? Why would he go to those lengths? Wouldn’t he have killed her wherever?”

My own words sent a thrill of fear through me, because until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how true they were. With what Rafe had told me and finding out about the self-defense lessons, it made sense. I didn’t care what May or Amanda thought. I didn’t. This had been careful, meticulous, no clues left behind. And that made the situation more sinister—because it would be so easy to stare into the eyes of a killer and not even know it.

May and Amanda were both eyeing me with pity, as if they thought I was clinging to some false hope. I couldn’t sit there a moment longer.

I stood up, fists clenching. “You’re wrong. Both of you. I don’t care what you say, what you think, because Jackson had nothing to do with this. Nothing. And besides,
Jackson
ended it with
Kesley
. Not the other way around. So what motivation would he have to kill her?”

They were silent. That was answer enough for me, so I threw some change on the table as a tip and left.

• • •

I walked home, letting the crisp night air kiss my cheeks.

Like May, I would never have thought Jackson capable of cheating on me. But that had been flipped upside down in a day, so why couldn’t he be capable of murder?
People are so strangely complex
, I thought.

Diana greeted me with a cup of hot chocolate when I got home.

I sank into a chair at the table. The walk home wasn’t long, but it was nice to wrap my hands around something warm, letting it bleed into my skin. “Thanks, Diana,” I murmured.

She clucked her tongue. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

I shrugged but didn’t say anything. Sometimes, like today, it just felt
wrong
to call her my mother.

She cleared her throat. “So, you were at the coffee shop all evening?”

All evening? I frowned and glanced at the clock. It was almost six o’clock; I hadn’t realized I’d been that long. I shrugged again and said, “I guess so.”

“But you’re certain you were there all evening? And with someone?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Why was she being so obtrusive? I forced myself to answer in a calm, even tone. “
Yes
, I’m sure. I met up with Lia after school. We had coffee, and I came home.” My mother breathed out a sigh, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

She reached over and touched my cheek, my unscarred cheek, gently. “I just worry about you, Ava. You’ve been through so much. Too much.”

“I know,” I said, feeling strangely emotionless.
Sometimes, I worry about me too.
But I didn’t say this. It would worry her more. So I only smiled, took a sip of hot chocolate to warm my throat, and stared out into the dark.

• • •

I woke to frost. It braided across the bottom of my window in intricate patterns, reminiscent of a spiderweb. A
plink, plink
on the window had pulled me from sleep. I wrapped as much blanket around myself as I could, walked to the window, and lifted the latch.

Cold air blasted in, and I shivered. Gray dawn light leaked through the clouds, and the sun hadn’t woken yet.

“Rise and shine,” said a sarcastic voice from below me.

I looked down. Rafe was standing there, looking as though he’d been awake for hours. A guitar was slung over his shoulder. I groaned and pressed my head to the windowpane. “Why are you even here? It’s early.”

Rafe shrugged with the ghost of a smile. “Not to someone who’s had their coffee.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, shivering again.

“I wanted to talk about Kesley,” he said, a guarded expression crossing his face.

“All right,” I said. “Do you want to come in?”

He paused for a moment. “How about we go for a walk?”

I glanced at the gray rain clouds and hesitated, then nodded, telling him I’d be downstairs in a few minutes. I got dressed, put a beanie on my head, tied a scarf around my neck, and went to open the door.

“Ready?” Rafe asked. He shouldered the guitar more firmly. The strap was worn yet dusty, so the guitar seemed to be a favorite that had been neglected lately. Ten minutes later, we found ourselves at the park.

Frost clung to the grass and crunched underfoot as I followed Rafe up the twisty, windy path that led behind the park and deeper into the woods.

I wondered if I should be more afraid.

We trekked silently through the woods for several minutes. It was so early that even the birds had yet to rise and so cold that my breath misted with every exhale. Rafe stopped at a clearing where patches of silvery sunlight touched the ground.

“I came here with Kesley,” said Rafe, breaking the silence.

“Oh. How romantic.”

I sat on the grass, feeling its cold touch through my clothes. I didn’t need to look at Rafe to know he was smiling.

“You know I never felt like that about her.”

“I believe you now,” I said. “And besides, she was probably too busy screwing my boyfriend.” Even the words tasted bitter in my mouth.

Rafe plucked a few notes on his guitar. “Yet you’re still with him.”

I looked away, wanting to change the subject.

I nodded at the guitar and said, “Is that what you want to do after graduation? Be a musician?”

“No, I don’t think so. I love it, but it’s a hobby not a passion. Ideally, I want to work with people, to help them. Maybe I’ll get a degree in psychology.”

A psychology degree? A strange choice for Rafe.

“Why did you bring the guitar here anyway?”

He said, “It reminds me of Kesley. She played the piano like a pro, but she struggled with guitar. So I offered to teach her. After school mainly, we’d come down here for an hour or two.” Rafe smirked. “She wanted to go somewhere people wouldn’t hear how terrible she was at it.”

I couldn’t help but smile. But then I thought back to the music store and that phone call I’d made. I tilted my head in Rafe’s direction. “Did you know she was talking about taking self-defense lessons?”

Rafe said, “She mentioned it.”

I let out a small sound of disbelief, but why was I even surprised?

“And you didn’t think you should
tell
me this?”

He turned to me, his eyes narrowed. “Let’s say I did tell you. What would you have done about it? What would even the police do with something like that?”

I didn’t answer him. The truth was, I didn’t know. And this wasn’t about the police doing something. It was about me feeling
worthy
to know Kesley’s secrets. Was that a selfish thing to keep thinking? Everyone had their secrets, so why was it so important I know hers?

Rafe turned to me. “Ava,” he said so gently that I allowed myself to look at him. “It wasn’t about shutting you out, I promise. It never was. Remember what I said—that she thought someone was after her?” I nodded. “She loved you more than anything else in this world…and I think—I think she just wanted to keep you from all that.” I felt my jaw automatically clench. And here it was again: that feeling that he was dancing around something.

Only this time, I thought I was closer to the truth than before.

“Didn’t work very well, did it?” I said with a sad, ironic smile. I lay back on the grass, ignoring the cold and focusing instead on the patches of brightening sky visible through the trees. “It doesn’t matter anymore what she was trying to do, Rafe. I’m—
we’re
—in this, no matter how much she tried to keep it from me, and I’m determined to see this to its end.” I turned my head slightly to look at him. “And I
need
you to be honest with me.”

An unreadable expression glinted in his eyes. “That goes both ways.”

I felt a brief flicker of frustration at his words. Hadn’t I been anything
but
honest with him? He was the one keeping secrets from
me
.

Not the other way round.

I sat up. “Fine,” I said. “So tell me what you know.”

“Most of it you already know,” Rafe said, shrugging.

“But not all of it,” I insisted, heart racing. Was I finally going to get some answers? Nerves twisted in my stomach.

“No, not all of it,” he said, his gaze impassive. “For example, I never told you what Kesley did in her downtime.”

A moment passed, and then I said, “KARMA.”

He knew about that? Of
course
he knew about that.

“When did they tell you?” I asked him.

“Soon after I got back from Vancouver, Amanda cornered me…and, well, she told me what she knew and why she thought Kesley had died.”

So they’d told Rafe what they’d told me in that cabin, and by the almost haunted look in his eyes, apparently I hadn’t been the only one shocked by the discovery. Without realizing it, I had moved closer to him, wanting to seek some sort of comfort.

“I thought she was a good person,” I whispered.

“I did too.”

“Then what does that make us?”

“Fools, I suppose.”

He had inched closer to me too. I could see the darker flecks of color in his irises, and only then did I notice how close we were to each other. My heart beat. Faster, faster. It was a strange and uncomfortable sensation I wasn’t used to feeling around Rafe. Around any boy that wasn’t Jackson, in fact. I saw his gaze flick down to my lips and then back to my eyes. For a few moments, I didn’t move, and before I had a chance to, Rafe spoke. “Going to kiss me?”

I felt my cheeks flare at the audacity of his question. I rose to my feet, straightening my white, buttoned coat.

“You wish,” I said with as much venom as I could muster.

A lazy grin. “And what if I do?”

I wasn’t sure it was possible, but I swore my cheeks burned even hotter. He was watching me, waiting for my reaction, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying something idiotic, so I just turned and walked away.

“Ava,
wait
.” I didn’t stop, but my pace was nothing compared to Rafe’s long stride. He caught up with me in no time. “I’m sorry. I am.”

“Forget it,” I said. “You were my sister’s best friend anyway.”

“So?”

“It would have been weird.”

A hand on my arm made me halt, and I found myself staring directly at him.

“You want to know why I think you’re still with Jackson after everything he’s put you through?” His voice was rough. “I think you’re
scared
. Jackson is everything you’ve ever known, and you’re scared to move on.” I felt my eyes fill with tears, felt my blood throb, because,
God
, Rafe was right, wasn’t he? I was afraid of what would happen if there was no me and Jackson anymore. He was my safety net. My constant.

And I was scared that every day, another small piece of me was falling for Rafe. I desperately hoped I was wrong.

• • •

Lia finally spoke to me on Sunday.

She’d been avoiding every text and call since I’d blown her off at the coffee shop, and I didn’t blame her. I had been cruel. Lia and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. Why had I been so horrible?

Early morning sunlight pushed through the cracks in my blinds, casting golden rays across the dust along the windowsill, when the shrill tone of the phone yanked me from my first peaceful sleep in a week.

“Can you get the phone, Ava?” I heard my mother yell from somewhere down the hall. I pushed the blankets off and speed-walked to catch the phone in time.

“Hey,” I said a little breathlessly.

“Hey, Ava. You haven’t been answering your cell.” Lia’s voice was stiffer than usual. Oh, right. Where had I even put the thing? I didn’t remember. It had probably fallen underneath my bed.

“Look,” I whispered as my mother’s footsteps drew closer. I turned so my back would be to her. “I’m really sorry about what happened, but I’ll explain.”

There was a pause on the end of the line. “You promise? Swear on our friendship?”

I smiled. “Yes, Lia. I swear. When can I meet you?”

“Five minutes,” she said, and her voice rose excitedly.

• • •

Circling Pines was a small town.

There was one high school, a gas station, one coffee shop, and a collection of clothing stores. Tourists occasionally passed through town, often on their way to visit the national parks, but other than that, Circling Pines was a place where most faces were familiar.

With her glossy, black hair, expensive leather handbag, and red lipstick, Lia was the epitome of the upper class of Circling Pines. She could spend hours racking up charges on her parents’ credit card, and as long as her grades remained high, they wouldn’t blink an eye.

Needless to say, this wasn’t me.

With my polka-dot skirts, turtleneck sweaters, and makeup so light you couldn’t even see it, I clearly showed that fashion had never been my forte.

“What about this?” Lia asked twenty minutes after we’d arrived at one of the designer stores. She pulled a lacy, red dress from the rack with a flourish. “It’s sexy.”

I arched a brow, casting a glance over the silken material. “There’s a fine line between sexy and slutty,” I pointed out.

Lia’s lower lip jutted out into a pout, but she shoved the red dress back onto the metal rack. She still trusted me enough to give her fashion advice, I realized, which was a step in the right direction.

“Shopping for someone special?” I asked as she continued to rifle through the clothes. Not that she needed any more. I’d seen her closet, and she had enough clothes to last a lifetime. It was funny how that worked; people always seemed to want more than what they had.

An intimate smile curved her lips, and she took her sweet time responding. “Maybe,” she said.

“Who?” I asked, tilting my head curiously. While I had never really approved of the boys Lia chose to date, I wanted to know who had caught her eye this time. But Lia didn’t answer, instead taking another dress from the rack. Pink and horribly frilly.