The Good Girls

Chapter 23

MAL HEARD EVIE'S FAMILIAR, COMFORTING voice as if from a million miles away. Then she heard her name again, this time a little louder, a little closer. Mal concentrated on bringing herself to Evie's voice, and finally, she snapped back into place. She felt the damp soil beneath her and heard the rustling leaves on the trees swaying high above their heads. She was in the woods. Behind Audrey's house.

Audrey's house. Everything else rushed back, too.

Sensory memories flooded through her: her biceps flexing as she pushed Leslie, hard; Leslie's fingernails piercing Mal's skin as she clutched desperately, fighting to regain her balance; the sensation of relief when Leslie released her grip and fell, her mouth forming a frightened and silent oval, over the balcony railing before landing with a resonant thud at the bottom. Mal had done it, but it was as if her body had gone through the motions on autopilot or something. She didn't remember deciding to do any of that.

And then more memories bombarded her, too. Crystal White stood in her bathroom, getting ready to take a shower. She spun around as Mal came up from behind her, her arms raised to defend herself, her face twisted in fear but not exactly surprise. Mal felt her wrists strain as she shoved Crystal back, hard, against the tile in the shower. Then she felt the sweep of her leg and the contact of her shin on Crystal's calves as she kicked her feet out from under her. The floor vibrated as Crystal's head cracked against the tile.

And what about the feel of the cool grass against her ankles as she darted back into Granger's house after the others had left? She felt the weight of the knife handle in her hand, and she recalled the look of surprise on his face as she slipped into his room, where he stood in a towel. "What are you doing here?" he'd spat.

Then, a flash, and she was sitting in a booth at a diner on the outskirts of town, slipping a thick wad of cash to a grizzled older guy with a hat pulled down low over his face

Finally, her thoughts returned to the start of it all—that party at Ben's house. . . . She felt the slippery plastic cup in her hand as Evie passed it to her, and she felt her fingers shake as she fumbled for the vial of cyanide in her pocket. She'd shielded her hands and pretended to spit in the cup, as the others had, instead dropping the powder into the warm beer. Then she'd handed the cup to Audrey, who took it to Ben.

She'd done it. She'd done all of it. All those memory gaps—her brain was somehow keeping her protected from the truth. And it explained why she'd been steering clear of Evie lately: She couldn't bear to tell her the truth, but she also couldn't hide something like this from Evie for long. Evie knew her better than she knew herself.

A bright flash of a thought entered her mind: She hadn't told anyone else, had she? No. Not Fielder. She wouldn't have done that. No matter how many times he bought her coffee, no matter how safe and appreciated he made her feel, she would never have told him that. Because he would have asked why—and he would have made Mal answer. Then again, wasn't the answer obvious? Ben deserved it. So did Crystal. Even Jay. But Leslie? Instantly, the woman's angry face when she confronted Audrey in the coffee shop popped into Mal's mind. Leslie had hit Audrey. Mal sure as hell knew what that felt like.

The world spun violently, and she dug her hands into the dirt to steady herself. "I think I've done something awful," she repeated, glancing fearfully at Evie. "I think I've done a lot of something awful."

"Mal? Mal!" Evie cried. "What do you mean?" Her eyes widened. "You did it, didn't you? All of them? You're just . . . going down the list?"

Mal's head began to throb and fill with explosive noise, but still the answer rang out clearly: "They all deserved it."

Evie made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob. "Oh, Mal." She sounded heartbroken. "No, they didn't."

"They did," Mal insisted. She felt so, so sure. "All of them did."

Evie looked crushed, but there was something determined in her face, too. She placed her hands on Mal's shoulders, her expression stern. "You have to promise me something, okay? You cannot do this again. From now on, we're going absolutely everywhere together. I'm not letting you out of my sight. I'll go to school with you and go to your classes instead of mine. You stay at my place every night. Where you go, I go."

Mal nodded. She felt too shaky and dizzy to speak.

"The only person left on that list is Li Lonnie," Evie went on. "We can still save her, Mal. She doesn't deserve anything bad to happen to her."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?" she sputtered. "You told me about what Lonnie did to Jane. How she'd, like, stolen her boyfriend and basically sabotaged her future—and how Jane had shown up at your house in tears. Lonnie's a horrible person. As horrible as the rest."

Evie shook her head. "No, she's not, Mal. She's a bitch, sure—but she doesn't deserve to be hurt."

Mal crossed her arms over her chest. "I need to stand up for my friends."

Evie placed her hand over Mal's. "You don't have to do it like this. It has to stop, Mal. Can you stop?"

Mal peered at her friend. Evie seemed really, really upset. Suddenly, the weight of what she'd done crushed down on her. She shut her eyes. Of course Evie was right: Mal was a monster. She'd interpreted a ridiculous conversation in film class literally. But none of them really wanted those people dead.

She gulped, all at once finding it hard to breathe. "I don't know who I am anymore," she said hoarsely.

"It's okay." Evie petted Mal's arm. "I'm going to help you. I promise. But for now, we have to get you out of here. Keep you safe."

Mal swallowed hard, a metallic taste in her
mouth. "You want to help me?"

Evie nodded. "Of course. I'm the one who hid Crystal's body for you—I've been helping all along."

Mal blinked. Crystal's body. Had she really just left Crystal dead on the floor? "You knew I was there?"

"I guessed you'd been there," Evie explained. "I cleaned everything up, wiped down all the fingerprints. They'll never know it was you." Then she looked toward Audrey's property. "But as for this, let's hope you didn't leave prints. And for Jay and Ben and your dad . . . well, I'll do the best I can."

Overwhelmed, Mal let out a heartrending sob and collapsed into Evie's arms. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she cried through tears. "I'll do anything you say."

"Good," Evie said. She helped Mal up, and they walked through the woods to Julie's car. But only a few paces in, Mal could already feel herself wavering.

Something else inside her, some deep dark part of her, had taken over when she'd done all those awful things.

How did she know that something wouldn't take over again?