Chapter 9

THE TRAINING ROOM WAS QUIET WHEN CARA PUSHED open the door at six thirty the next morning. She liked to get in early to stretch before everyone else arrived—it was a good time to decompress before all the stress of the school day started. There was something so relaxing about being in the little cinder block room alone, with the heat blowing from the ceiling vents and the smell of Pine-Sol from the janitor’s cleaning the night before.

She hated to admit it, but a teeny part of her was happy to have a few minutes completely to herself. She and Zoe had been having a lot of fun, but she’d never shared her room before, and it wasn’t the hugest space in the world. She’d tried to explain why she liked coming to the training room to Zoe when she left the house half an hour earlier, but Zoe had just squinted at her, looking hurt, before rolling over and pressing her face into the pillow.

The small room seemed overly warm today. In fact, it was like a freaking sauna, Cara thought, as she let the door swing shut behind her. She dropped her gym bag on the bench and examined the thermostat on the wall. Eighty-three degrees. Jesus. Like Saudi Arabia. She tried to dial it back, but the thing was impossible to move. What the hell? Was this some new sadistic training trick of Coach Sanders’s?

Cara could already feel a trickle of sweat trailing down her back as she collapsed on one of the floor mats to stretch. She pulled her T-shirt over her head and pitched it in the direction of her bag, then stretched both legs out in front of her and bent toward her knees. The air felt odd flowing over the newly naked back of her neck. God, her hamstrings were tight this morning. She pressed her spine a little farther toward her legs.

She was going to debut her new look this morning, the green shirt and makeup tucked in her bag for after her shower. Don’t worry, Zoe had told her before she had left. No one’s going to say anything mean. I just know. And the funny thing was, Cara believed her. Zoe always just knew. Like when Cara’s new kitten wouldn’t stop peeing in the living room fireplace when she was eight. Her parents told her they’d have to give Tennessee away, and she sobbed for hours. But then Zoe told her that she shouldn’t worry, that Tennessee would get to stay, she just knew it—and she was right. It turned out he simply didn’t like his litter box. Once they got him a different kind, he was fine. Cara sighed and reached for her ankles. Well, Tenny was gone now. Replaced by fat, ugly Samson.

The training room door banged open. Cara looked up to see Ethan barreling in, a distracted look on his face. He stopped short when he saw her. “Oh, hi,” he said. “I, ah, didn’t know anyone else was here.” A faint flush crept into his cheeks as his gaze traveled from her face down to her bare shoulders. Cara snatched up her T-shirt and pressed it to her chest. Her ears grew hot.

Ethan turned. “I can leave,” he said. “I was just grabbing my spikes.” He took them out of his locker and went over to the door.

“No, no!” Cara pulled her T-shirt over her head. She frantically searched for something to say, anything so he wouldn’t leave. She took a deep breath. Now was the time.

“Great meet yesterday,” she said, just as she’d practiced with Zoe, with the right mix of airiness and confidence. The fact that she’d gotten a sentence out around Ethan, something she’d seemed incapable of doing before, gave her the courage to go on. “Was that last runner killer in the relay, like Coach said?”

Ethan sat down on a bench nearby and leaned over, resting his forearms on his knees, the spikes dangling from his hands. His shoulders pushed at the fabric of his gray T-shirt.

“Yeah, he was tough,” Ethan replied. “I remember that guy, actually. I think I ran against him last season, too. He used to go to Country Day.”

“Guess he’s just following you around,” Cara said with a smirk. She didn’t know what had come over her, but suddenly she wasn’t feeling uncomfortable anymore. Maybe it was the thickness in the air, which had made her muscles loosen immediately. If only all of high school could take place in a sauna.

Ethan grinned and nodded. “Seriously. Too bad I beat him again.” A rubber band was looped around one of his wrists, and Cara couldn’t take her eyes off it. Ethan’s face grew serious. “Hey, by the way, Sydney lived next door to you, right?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

“Did you see her, you know, that night?”

Cara flashed on Sydney’s laughing face, staggering around the pool. White jeans floating in the water. Part of her wanted to talk about what happened, but she didn’t know how to tell Ethan what she’d seen without revealing she’d been watching the whole time. “No. I went to bed early.”

He nodded. “I was just wondering. Alexis is really upset still.”

Cara stiffened at the mention of Alexis, but Ethan didn’t seem to notice. He was rummaging through his gym bag. Then he rose from the bench and tossed his spikes over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go finish some of that Euro History reading from yesterday. It’s taking me forever.”

“I know. Me too,” Cara lied. She’d blown through it in about an hour last night, Zoe next to her on the bed, painting her toenails a violent green.

Ethan turned around again, his hand on the doorknob. “Nice talking with you, Cara. You’re always so quiet at practice.”

Cara could feel her face go scarlet. “Yeah, that’s kind of my default state.”

Ethan grinned. “See you later. By the way, your hair looks cute that way,” he called over his shoulder as the door slowly closed behind him.

Cara fell back on the mats, her hands clasped over her hammering heart. She laid there for a good ten minutes, waiting for her body to recover. “Oh my God,” she said to the ceiling tiles. An entire conversation with Ethan Gray—and he saw her in her sports bra— and he gave her two compliments.

Cara rose from the mat and made her way toward the showers on unsteady legs. Next Prince William was going to call from England and ask her to marry him.

Cara fluffed the back of her hair for the twentieth time as she stood in the doorway to the cafeteria. The noisy chatter rose from within. But instead of the usual sick feeling spreading through her stomach, she felt only the bubbly remnants of her encounter with Ethan that morning.

“Cute shirt, Cara,” someone said behind her. She turned around to see Sarit standing behind her, holding something that looked like a long, foil-wrapped relay baton.

“Thanks!” Cara glowed and adjusted the clingy hem. Sarit was the third person who’d noticed her new look. In English, a girl she didn’t know told her she liked her shoes. “Hey, um, what is that?” She pointed to the foil baton-thing.

“Oh.” Sarit looked slightly embarrassed. “A dosa. It’s like a giant pancake. My mom makes them. By the way, that was an awesome finish yesterday,” she went on as they crossed the cafeteria. Like actual friends. Oh God, this was pitiful. But Cara couldn’t help it. She knew her face was wearing a big sloppy grin.

“Oh, I didn’t win,” Cara pointed out. They turned into the food line, and she grabbed a tray from the stack, setting a peanut butter sandwich and an applesauce on it. Best to keep away from any foods she could choke on. That was the only thing that could ruin her winning streak today.

“Yeah, but that girl was a freakin’ Amazon,” Sarit countered. “We couldn’t believe you had to go up against her. I swear she was either, like, twenty-five or on steroids.” She pulled a bottle of iced tea from the cooler, and they walked toward the table. The other track girls were already seated, unwrapping their sandwiches and prying open Tupperwares. Julie had nothing in front of her except a giant-size Butterfinger. “New diet, Jules?” Sarit raised a dark eyebrow.

Cara had almost reached the table when someone bumped her shoulder hard and mumbled, “Oops.” Cara stumbled for-ward, just managing to hang on to her tray. She turned around. It was Alexis, with Ethan by her side. Cara’s stomach dropped, but Alexis barely seemed to recognize her. She just kept walking in a vague, unfocused sort of way, trailing the strong scent of coconut.

“Sorry, Cara,” Ethan apologized. He hurried after Alexis, who had pulled out the chair at her usual table. She tried to sit down but only caught the edge of the seat, ending up in a messy heap on the floor.

“Ooh,” Alexis moaned. “Shit.”

Cara’s eyes widened. She watched Ethan haul Alexis to her feet.

“Why don’t you get Jack to carry you around?” Ethan growled. She tried to shove him, but he deposited her in the chair. She mumbled something indistinguishable and took a sip from a water bottle she was clutching.

“Oh my God,” Sarit said. “Did you smell her?”

Cara nodded. “Yeah, like coconut.” She set her tray down and took a seat next to Julie.

Sarit shook her head. “Like booze! She reeks of Malibu.” She unwrapped her dosa and took a bite. It smelled delicious, like potatoes and onions.

“We were sitting in American history, and all of a sudden, she just burst out in tears,” Madeline said, spooning some mandarin oranges into her mouth. “Everyone just sat there until Mrs. Bolton told her to go wash her face.”

Julie finally unwrapped her Butterfinger lunch and took a huge bite. “Basically, she’s just been acting nuts ever since Sydney died,” she said, blowing a shower of orange crumbs all over the table. “Sorry.” She swallowed with difficulty. “She’s going over the edge.”

“Just like Sydney did,” Sarit said. “I can’t believe she just fell in the pool like that. Maybe she hit her head.”

“Maybe she dove in,” Madeline suggested. “Like remember that video they showed us in eighth grade with that guy diving into a pool and breaking his neck?”

Rachael shuddered. “The whole thing is so creepy and gross.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Cara bit into her peanut butter sandwich and thought of what her mother said the other day, about the police still investigating the case. Investigating. . . But a drunk girl drowning in her own pool hardly seemed worthy of a Law & Order episode.

Sarit nodded over toward Alexis’s table, interrupting Cara’s thoughts. “It’s honestly just so sad. I mean, can you imagine if your best friend just up and died?”

Cara suddenly pictured finding Zoe dead, face down in a pool. Her throat almost closed up just thinking about it.

Her eyes slid over to Alexis’s table. Alexis’s head was cradled in her arms, and there wasn’t any food in front of her, just the water bottle. Ethan was bent close, rubbing her back and talking to her softly. A strange feeling rushed over Cara, and it took a moment for her to identify it. Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually feeling sorry for Alexis Henning.

Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, Ethan looked over. Their eyes met. He gave her a sad little smile and nodded toward Alexis. Cara nodded back. She tuned back into the conversation around her. The girls were speculating on Coach Sanders’s social life. Cara smiled and nodded at the right times. As soon as she got home, she’d tell Zoe about this—how they all just talked, like real friends. Cara finished her peanut butter sandwich and carefully brushed her new hair behind her ears. Her throat felt layered with sticky peanut butter. She took a swig from her water bottle. Actually, maybe she wouldn’t tell Zoe. Zoe always got a little jealous whenever she thought Cara was replacing her. Cara swallowed again and again, but she couldn’t get rid of the peanut butter coating her throat. It was choking her all over again.

Briefly, panic rose in her belly, but she fought it back and forced herself to drink the rest of her water. At last, the peanut butter washed away.

No, she decided, it was better not to tell Zoe. She wouldn’t understand.