Secrets and Lies(41)

“Heroin?” Sydney whispered. She leaned back against the wall, reeling. “That can’t be right. Guinness had problems with pain-killers and alcohol in the past, but he would never do heroin. Hard drugs terrify him.”

“He’s an addict, hon,” her mom said. “There are no boundaries when it comes to a relapse.” She squeezed Sydney’s hands. “Something must have been really haunting him to drive him to this point. But he’s going to get the help he needs in rehab.”

Sydney blinked. Her mom was right. For Guinness to spiral this badly, something must have been haunting him. She thought of the note Tenley had found on his bed.

Had he believed the note was meant for him and not Tenley? Guinness had already been in a bad place because of their breakup; what if finding that note had driven him over the edge? Sydney gulped as she remembered what Tenley had said about her text. Abby had been gloating. Somehow, she must have known what Guinness had done.

If only Sydney had just talked to Guinness! But she’d been too busy obsessing over whether he could be the darer. She’d let her fears consume her, blind her, when instead she could have been helping him. And now it was too late. Tears burned in her eyes again. She didn’t have the energy to blink them away.

“You look exhausted, Syd.” Her mom bent down, kissing her on the forehead. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a bit?”

Sydney agreed, but when her mom left the room, she reached for her phone. A tiny part of her was hoping that she’d missed a message from Guinness since she’d last checked—even though his phone had been off every time she’d tried to call. She had no new texts, though, and no new calls.

She was about to put her phone down when a message popped up. It was from Tenley. Sorry, hospital made me turn off phone last nite. G’s ok. Lanson is sending him 2 rehab tmrw. I’ll keep u updated… but in the meantime, I forgot 2 tell u what ELSE Abby said last night.

Another text came through, this one forwarded from a blocked number.

Dropping like flies! Make sure the right girl wins queen tomorrow, or who knows who you’ll lose next.…

Before Sydney could digest that, Tenley sent a third text. Em got a similar 1. Abby CLEARLY wants Delancey 2 win. I say we all drop out of the race 2nite. Make her think we’re caving. Then at the dance we STOP her. Meet us @ school @ 6:30. We have a plan!!!

Sydney tried to make herself feel something: fear, anger, remorse. But she just felt numb. Her head was a sticky maze of webs. U can take my name out of the running, she texted back. But count me out of ur plan. I’m not coming 2night.

Tenley sent three texts in rapid succession.

WHAT?!?

You can’t just ditch us!

All THREE of us need 2 be there!!! We need u!

Sydney twisted her ring. Thanks to Abby’s sick little game, she’d abandoned someone she truly cared about. She was done playing. Sorry, she wrote back. I’m out.

Ten’s response was curt. I thought we were in this 2gether.

Not anymore, she replied. I’m not in this at all. Before Tenley could make an attempt to change her mind, Sydney turned off her phone.

A long shower and two iced teas later, Sydney was starting to feel slightly less like a zombie. “I’m so sorry I can’t stay home with you today,” her mom said for the fourteenth time that morning. She pulled a bagged lunch out of the fridge and stuffed it into her purse. “I can’t believe my boss is out with the flu.”

“It’s fine,” Sydney assured her. “I’m a big girl.”

Her mom wrapped her arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “You’re all grown-up, aren’t you? I don’t think I say it enough, but I’m so proud of you, hon. For handling this so well and… everything. You’ve come a long way these past few years.”

Sydney gave her a small smile. After her relapse with a kitchen fire last month, she wasn’t sure she’d ever hear her mom say that again. “How about a mother-daughter dinner one night soon?” her mom continued. “We can go anywhere you want.”

“What about tonight?” Sydney suggested. “Unless you’re busy with Dad again.” She couldn’t keep the edge from creeping into her voice.

“No…” Her mom brushed Sydney’s shaggy bangs off her forehead. “But you’re not going to homecoming? I know you’re not into football, but not even the dance? Aren’t you nominated, hon?”

Sydney shrugged. “Who cares? I’m going to college next year. I’m ready to be done with Winslow. I’d rather have a nice night with my mom. Alone,” she added pointedly. “And… at Vegetarian Kingdom!”

Her mom groaned loudly. “The things I do for my daughter.”

Sydney felt the tiniest bit better as she made herself breakfast. Her favorite restaurant and alone time with her mom was exactly the combo she needed right now. Maybe it would help her focus on something other than Guinness or the darer for five minutes. Namely, her scholarship application, which had to go out Monday, no matter how uninspiring her hometown photos were.

She’d just finished her cereal when the apartment’s buzzer rang. With a yawn, she dragged herself over to the video monitor their building had installed in every apartment last year. It was a bulky plastic box with a grainy video feed, but it was better than the ancient sound system that had been there before it.

She steeled herself as she turned the monitor on. If her dad had chosen this moment for a surprise visit, she wasn’t sure she could be held accountable for her reaction. “Hello?” she said grudgingly.

No answer.

Something white filled the video feed. “Is it broken already?” She clicked it off and on again. “Hello?” she repeated.

Silence. The screen was still awash in white. Sydney looked closer. There was something in the center. Several fuzzy black lines. She squinted. It almost looked like…

“No,” she gasped.

She was downstairs and outside as fast as her legs could carry her. There it was, taped over the building’s video screen: a note. Adrenaline shot through her, chasing away her exhaustion. She whirled around, scouring the parking lot. Over by the trash cans a squirrel gnawed on an acorn. In the street a young couple jogged past. Abby was nowhere in sight.

Her insides did somersaults as she tore the paper off the monitor. Her head was so fuzzy that at first glance, she couldn’t make sense of the jumble of letters. She collapsed on the building’s front stoop. Slowly, the letters untangled themselves. A sentence emerged.


Guess your love wasn’t his drug. Good thing my laced weed was. Congrats--you’re Guinness-free!



The world turned black. Fury burned through her veins. Abby had done this. Not her notes: her. She’d laced Guinness’s weed—poisoned him.

Sydney could barely see straight as she stood up. Abby was everywhere, tearing through every part of her life. And Guinness had gotten caught in the crossfire. It was Sydney’s fault he was in the hospital, Sydney’s fault he was going to rehab. He’d been nothing but an innocent bystander.

Unless…

Sydney stopped breathing as a wild thought struck her. Unless, all along, he’d been a target, too.

Her thoughts sped into overdrive. They’d assumed the note on his bed had been meant for Tenley, but what if it hadn’t been? What if it had actually been for Guinness? She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what the note had said. Like a powerful photo, past mistakes can haunt us until death. Good thing yours will come soon. That’s what happens when you know too much. It would fit. Guinness had taken a sudden interest in Kyla lately, looking through her pictures, seeing her sister. What if that was what he’d known too much about? What if that was why he’d ended up nearly dead?

Sydney’s brain felt as if it were splintering into a thousand pieces, fragments crashing and colliding. Abby and Kyla, Kyla and Abby… how did it connect?

A sudden ache consumed her. A fire would make everything feel better. It was the only thing that could chase the demons—Abby—out of her head. She could keep it under control this time. Just the note in a trash can, small and contained. The compulsion rolled through her in waves. She wanted so badly to forget, just for a moment.

No! She dug her nails into her palm. She’d come too far to let Abby send her spiraling backward. She refused to let her win like that. She hurried back inside and grabbed a recently finished roll of film off her dresser. She knew only one other way to escape.

She didn’t take a full breath again until she was inside the darkroom. Out in Winslow’s parking lot she’d heard the faint sounds of the field being set up for the homecoming game, but in here everything was still. She breathed in the familiar mix of chemicals and paper. The scent always reminded her of Guinness. Not the drunken mess he’d become lately, but the real Guinness. The one who’d shown her the magic in photography, who’d taught her about shutter speed and lighting, who’d chased her off a bridge and led her to the darkroom instead. He would become that Guinness again one day; he had to. Maybe rehab would be good for him in the end. At least he would be safe from Abby’s clutches in rehab.