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I was always watching them. Studying. Observing. Taking notes. They didn’t know I was always watching. It’s because rich kids are just like their rich parents.
And it was time they found out. And not just who I was. They needed to learn about life. Real life. The one the rest of us lived.
I was shocked to find out Thera was a practicing psychic and spiritual counselor, though. It was so out of the realm of science for her, and Thera was definitely a scientist.
Grace was a supermodel now. She was internet famous.
it was her OnlyFans account that was the most impressive. She was Bahd Barbie, and she’d made over $2 million last year.
My wife, Claire,
I’d skimmed those articles, too, and they practically made it sound like an arranged marriage.
someone could come at any second, and I wasn’t getting caught. It left the ritual feeling a bit incomplete. Almost like I’d wasted it.
Guys were throwing themselves at her this summer. There was something about her energy lately that pulled you to her, too, that had never been there before. And she wasn’t bothered by any of the attention, which only made them want her more.
But still. He was supposed to want me. Not Meg. She was starting to get on my nerves. And when people got on my nerves, I wanted to eat. That’s what I did. Feelings always made me hungry. Ravenous.
No more. Never again. That was four years ago, and I hadn’t stopped. It was my dirty little secret.
But then I learned I wasn’t the only one living with a demon, and somehow that made it okay to have mine.
What’s that they say in Stand by Me? There’s nothing like the friends you have when you’re twelve? Or something like that. They found a dead body lying next to the railroad tracks, and we found one at camp.
How could we have known what Regina was going through? She and Mr. Crosby had seemed so happy. They looked like the perfect couple.
We all picked our sides, and I fell on the side of wearing her shoes. I knew trauma could break you. Dismantle your insides. Pull your sense of reality right out from underneath you. Twist you and push you into doing things you never thought you were capable of doing.
stabbed her husband 117 times.
we were good kids and good kids weren’t supposed to get into trouble. They didn’t do bad things. But we did. We did a terrible thing and eventually you have to pay for something like that. You just couldn’t get away with it. It was too big. Things that bad didn’t go unpunished.
Because the truth? If a group of teenage girls had done what we did? I might’ve wanted to hurt us too.
He was the kind of prince you dreamed of when you were a little girl. If you were into that kind of thing. Which I was.
See, the biggest problem with those girls wasn’t that they were every kind of privileged and white, even though they were. It was that they were so damn smart.
All I had to do was call my daddy and let him know they’d split up me and my friends into different teams, throw in a few cries for good measure, and he’d be on the phone with the director as soon as we hung up.
It was such a tragic story, but for some reason, I liked telling it.
that one hit everyone differently. It hurt them, and part of me liked making them feel bad,
It was the best story and even better because it was true. Mostly, anyway.
It’s not like Blakely actually physically killed Jared. Was the one to hold the knife in her hand and stab him 117 times. That kind of annihilation was all about rage.
It was like nothing I’d ever heard before, so I couldn’t identify it other than to say it sounded more animal than human.
Because that summer was also the summer I figured out I was gay, and I would’ve done anything to keep people from finding out. Absolutely anything. It was pure survival.
Do you know how freeing it was to live in a world where you didn’t give a fuck what people thought about you? Especially as a woman? There’s no better feeling on the planet. At least I haven’t found one yet.
Truthfully, he seemed kind of annoyed with Blakely. That was the one thing I noticed when they were together. She was so obvious about trying to get his attention.
He was stunningly gorgeous. So was his wife. The one person Blakely kept forgetting about.
I hadn’t noticed the way he was with Blakely, but I’d noticed the way he was with Meg. Everyone had. If there was anyone he liked, it was her.
We both have holes in our hearts now, but hers is bigger. Much bigger. And, I don’t know, there’s just something different about her. She was missing something else,
I smiled and nodded at her, just like I’d been doing for weeks.
There was one other thing I knew about housewives—and
mortgage—and that was that they got bored. With all that time on their hands, they needed to find something to keep them busy. And Lord knows, Blakely needed constant stimulation and attention.
This was supposed to be about the notes. Not her. Or had it always been about her? Had she set this whole thing up?
Thera was upset. She was terrible at hiding her emotions. I felt bad. I needed to do a better job including her, but Meg just had such a better in with Jared.
“Blakely wanted Mr. Crosby, and he rejected her. That’s how this whole thing started. You know that as well as I do. But somehow, it’s gotten all twisted up, and now the police are involved. Someone has to set them straight, and there’s nobody better to do that than you.”
This time I was the one to shake my head at her. “No, I won’t, because I know the difference between reality and fantasy.”
Believe me: no one wanted an explanation for the things I’d done more than me.
Some days I agreed with them. Maybe that’s what happened when evil men squirted themselves inside you. They ruined you forever.
Maybe after Mr. Crosby was officially gone, this would all blow over. There was still two weeks left of camp. We could salvage this. We had to salvage this somehow.
“I’m the one who sent the letters. It wasn’t Regina. It was me.”
“You’re in an awful situation. I understand just fine, but I don’t like being lied to. I definitely don’t like being played.”
Blakely had just given us another secret to eat. But guess what? I was full.
Blood tasted just like it smelled, but it wasn’t that bad. I kind of liked it.
We always said camp let us be our truest self. The one place where we could let our guards down and just be ourselves. But you know what? Camp might’ve been the fakest we ever were.”
But I’d seen it with my own eyes. I’d watched Regina mutilate him. But could Blakely have started it? Did it really matter if she had? My memory was so fuzzy. All the corners frayed.
That was the only way, and I wasn’t sorry. Up until the point I started suspecting he might not have done it. Then, everything shifted.
She flicked on the light when we got to the bottom of the stairs, and that’s when I saw them. Her dolls.
