Blood in the Water(7)

“Maybe it’s when you get death threats and that kind of thing,” Heather said. “People who are famous are always getting death threats. Doesn’t that sound sucky? You go to all that trouble to get famous and then you have to skulk around because people are trying to kill you. Do you think people are trying to kill Taylor Swift? I bet they are.”

“Taylor Swift is retarded.”

“I know. I know Taylor Swift is retarded.”

“I want to go see Michael before the day gets started,” LizaAnne said. “But I can’t do it as long as I don’t know if he’s there. I mean, if I go over there and go wandering around in the pool house and there’s nobody there, I’m going to look retarded.”

“I don’t think he’s there,” Heather said. “I’m practically right on top of the pool house and I haven’t seen a thing all morning. And you know what she’s like. As soon as she knows he’s there, she comes right in, and in that car of hers, too. It’s not like you can miss it.”

LizaAnne looked at her jewelry. She had tiny sapphire studs for her ears. She had a ring of white gold with sapphires and diamonds in it. Heather had had a super sweet sixteen party, too, but the people from the show said they never did two in the same neighborhood, so they’d had to choose. Heather had gotten a car for her party, but it had only been a Ford. LizaAnne’s father said that nobody with any sense bought Fords, because the names stood for “Fix or Repair Daily.”

“Do you think I’m like her?” LizaAnne said. “The way everybody says?”

“Everybody doesn’t say that,” Heather said. “It’s just a couple of people.”

“It’s a couple of people here.”

“Well, it would have to be here, wouldn’t it?” Heather said. “I mean, they wouldn’t know who she was if they didn’t live here. It’s not like she’s famous, or any of that kind of thing. Nobody knows her but the people around here.”

“She hates me,” LizaAnne said.

“Of course she doesn’t hate you,” Heather said. “Well. You know.”

“She hates me,” LizaAnne said again. “She hates me because she knows Michael likes me better than he likes her. He really likes me. He’s just putting up with her because she gets him laid. She thinks she’s going to make some big thing out of it, but she isn’t. I mean, what would he want with her anyway, except, you know, her junk?”

“She’s really ugly,” Heather said. “And she’s old.”

“She’s really thin.” LizaAnne looked down at her very rounded arms.

“She’s probably got an eating disorder,” Heather said. “She probably throws up in the bathroom all the time. It’s really disgusting.”

“It’s retarded.”

“It’s worse than retarded,” Heather said. “It’s really gay.”

“Maybe she’s got some kind of thing on him,” LizaAnne said. “Maybe she’s blackmailing him. Maybe he’s hiding out from the law or something and that’s why he came home.”

“Maybe she’s one of those sick people who can’t stand to be with anybody her own age,” Heather said. “Maybe she’ll have a psychotic breakdown and end up in an insane asylum. Then when people come to see her her hair will hang down in front of her face and she’ll scream.”

LizaAnne picked up more of her jewelry. She had dangling earrings with little emeralds in them. She had whole sets for each of the four piercings on each of her ears, each in a different color.

“I wish she wasn’t on that committee,” she said finally.

And then, because that was the thing they had both been trying very hard not to say, they both fell silent.

LizaAnne looked around her room. She liked her room. She thought anybody would like it. She looked past the vanity at the clothes hanging in the walk-in closet. She put all her jewelry back in her box.

“There’s an arrangement,” she said. “My father said so. Every girl who’s going to be eighteen and out of high school in the spring is going to be invited. The committee has to.”

“That makes sense,” Heather said. “It’s not her who’s paying for it. It’s our fathers who are paying for it.”

“He said even if she did try to pull something, we wouldn’t have to put up with it,” LizaAnne said. “We could sue the committee, and the membership board of the club, and that kind of thing.”

“She won’t try anything,” Heather said. “It’s not like people want her here. That’s the thing. It’s not like she’s Stanford-Pyrie or somebody that everybody sucks up to. Nobody can stand her.”