Page 36

I wake before dawn.

The room is grey, as though the reality has been sucked out of it, and for a few seconds I just lie in bed, listening to River’s snores and the whoosh-whoosh of the air conditioner pumping out chilly air.

Today, I’m going to kill Serena Victoria.

A spike of panic in my chest follows this thought, as if I’ve been impaled through the heart, fixing me to the mattress.

Then the sharpness softens, washing out like a wave into a deafening numbness, like the drone of a bee swarm.

My pulse slows, my body calms. That’s when I move, swinging my legs out of the bed and padding to the bathroom.

I turn on the sink, splash water on my face. Pull my hair back. I don’t need make-up; we won’t be doing that TikTok.

Back in the bedroom, I quietly pull on a pair of joggers and a tank top, marvelling that these are my legs, going into the pants. These are my arms, poking through the sleeves.

I remember this feeling all too well. I’ve always imagined it’s like putting on a space helmet. Protecting yourself behind a glass visor from an atmosphere that could kill you if you tried to breathe it in.

I first had it back in fourth-grade theatre club.

Mr Arnold, the theatre teacher, gave me a small but heartfelt talking part in Hello, Ohio!

I practised my lines night and day, so excited for my big debut.

The night of the performance, I walked out on stage.

The lights were hot. I could feel the eyes on me and, like someone flipped a switch, my body turned to lead.

There was no way I could move, much less say my lines.

And then, a buzzing washed through me, a white noise like a crashing ocean that deadened everything else.

I walked to my spot on the stage and said my part.

I could barely hear myself speak the lines above the buzzing, but I could feel the vibration of the words leaving my throat, their tickly whisper as they left my lips, the muscles in my face working to do the facial expressions I’d practised over and over.

It was a triumph. Mr Arnold had tears in his eyes. Mom gave me flowers and hugged me and said, ‘I had no idea you were so gifted! My budding actress!’ The principal even shook my hand.

But all along, I kept to myself the disappointing truth: that I hadn’t enjoyed the moment. Hadn’t even really been there for it. It had been… nothing .

I didn’t sign up for theatre again.

Outside the hotel, the early morning air is chilly and moist. I shiver and briefly wish I’d brought a sweatshirt as I head to the path leading to the beach where Serena and I planned on meeting.

I see her taut silhouette in the distance, standing still facing the beach, dressed in dark, form-fitting athletic wear. I wonder what she’s thinking. If she has any instinct that this will be the last time she sees the sun rise.

‘Hey, Lily,’ she says once I’m near. Her voice is perky, as if she’s been up for hours, and she’s carrying a big thermos. ‘Ready?’

‘Let’s do it,’ I say, and she leads the way.

She’s shorter than I am, but her pace is quick, her step bouncy. Full of life.

Not for much longer.

‘Want some of my morning wake-up blend?’ She lifts the thermos towards me without stopping her brisk walk, but I wave it away.

I could use a pick-me-up, and really wish I’d stopped for coffee, but my temptation to share Serena’s brew is short-lived. Who knows what toxic powders she’s mixed in.

‘So I was thinking we go for spontaneous,’ she says. ‘You talk, I record, and I can edit later.’

‘Sounds good.’

We walk in silence for a while, towards the jetty. The sand is damp with morning dew, and our sneakers leave clear footprints. The water is dull, but soon it will be spiked with light, and Serena will be dead.

‘Hey, are you going to that party? At Island Vibes?’ says Serena.

‘No. Are you?’

‘I’m thinking about it. I don’t know. A lot of people are going, but the place looks kind of… junky? On the other hand, half-priced drinks!’

I don’t answer. She doesn’t know it yet, but this is a decision she won’t have to make.

I’m not like the killers in books who give long speeches to their victims, who really want to make sure they know why they deserve to die. I couldn’t care less whether she knows or not. What matters is to do it quickly, and leave the scene even quicker.

I won’t return by way of the beach; I’d be seen.

Instead, I’ll cut up the hill and head for the cover of trees further inland.

I’ll circle back around to the hotel the long way, go to my room, change into my bathing suit for my ten o’clock shift, and pray that the footprints disappear under the tracks of other morning walkers.

Then, I’ll do my job and make sure no one drowns, and act surprised when her body is found, whenever that may be.

‘Hey, slow down…’ I call out, as I suddenly realize Serena’s quite a bit ahead of me. I wouldn’t say I’m out of shape, but the pace petite Serena is setting is formidable.

She’s strong. Quick. In shape.

But I’m taller, and I have the benefit of surprise.

‘You’re dragging,’ she sings out in a teasing tone, and lifts her thermos again in invitation.

‘No, thanks,’ I say.

‘You know, I didn’t used to be a morning person either… but I’m on these pills and they are seriously amazing.’

‘Pills?’ I say, even though I’m not surprised.

‘Well … antidepressants.’

I stop walking. The rim of the sun is lighting up the water, and I feel the first hint of warmth in the breeze that brushes over my cheek.

‘You’re on antidepressants?’

Her expression scrunches. ‘I shouldn’t have blurted that out. Please don’t mention it to Vic. I don’t want him to think I’m, like…’ She jiggles her hands and pulls a face. ‘Unstable.’

We keep walking, now abreast.

Part of me wants to say all the reassuring things I know are true. Struggling with depression is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s brave to get help. That’s what those medications are there for.

Instead, I stay silent, trying to reel back in the soft emotions her confession elicited, trying to return to the dead, droning removal she just cracked through.

‘It’s from growing up poor,’ Serena blurts out.

Huh? ‘Like, I have massive imposter syndrome, working here. Sometimes I just spiral, like– how long is it going to take everyone to realize I don’t belong?

’ She laughs. ‘Did you know I had to practise to get rid of the twang in my accent? I’d watch the news and literally repeat everything the news anchors said, so I could sound smart and polished and professional.

And my mom– she got so overweight, she literally couldn’t fit in a normal vehicle.

She was homebound for years, and eventually she just…

died on the couch watching TV.’ Serena shivers.

‘Anyway, I’ve worked really hard to be here– and that’s why these bonuses I was telling you about are so important to me.

It’s me proving to myself I’m not going to end up like my parents did.

’ She pauses and gives me a nervous side glance.

‘Sorry! I don’t know why all this stuff is spilling out! ’

Probably because some part of you knows you’re about to die.

‘It’s OK,’ I say in a neutral tone. Nothing more. Even though my heart is tugging at me, I force myself to actively wall up what she’s said. I don’t want to relate. Don’t want to see the similarities between her story and mine.

We reach the rocks.

Stay focused.

She climbs ahead of me. I reach the top just seconds behind her, panting.

‘You OK there?’ she says.

‘Fine,’ I say, wiping away a trickle of sweat at my hairline.

‘OK. Let’s get you sitting on that rock there at the end…’

We jump from rock to rock, all the way to the end of the jetty. I stand on the very last rock. The one I’m about to push Serena from. The ocean is lively, crashing up against the left side, then sucking at the rocks as it retreats, only to batter it again. That’s the side I have to push her off.

She’s positioning the camera, but I can’t let her press record. Can’t let there be any evidence we were here together.

‘Wait! I’m not ready,’ I say. ‘Could you– um, come over here? There’s something in the water.’

‘What is it?’

Still looking at the water, I twist my expression as if I’m seeing something disturbing.

‘You’d better come check it out.’

She blows out her breath in exasperation, but picks her way towards me.

This is it. This is it.

Even if she is struggling with depression, that doesn’t make her less of a monster.

She’s next to me, leaning over a little.

Blood pounds through my veins, filling my head with its rhythm.

Now. Now , I tell myself.

I step back, giving myself a little room to lunge forward. The more upfront force, the better.

Serena is fixated on the water. ‘I really don’t see what you’re talking about, Lily.’

I lunge—

A blare cuts through the soundscape, jolting me back again.

Serena straightens up and looks at her phone, totally oblivious to the fact that I was one second away from sending her over the edge on to the sharp rocks and into the vicious current.

She frowns at her phone, then lifts it to her ear. ‘Vic?’

Damn it.

I cross my arms around my body. The wind is extra icy up on the jetty. I’m close enough to hear the frantic tone of Vic’s voice. Serena’s frown deepens as he talks, and I hear Vic’s final words loud and clear. ‘ Get back here right now! ’

Serena disconnects and looks up at me, her face drained of colour. Stricken. ‘We have to get back to the Riovan right now. There’s been an emergency. It’s that girl.’

I don’t even have to ask what girl. She swims into my mental view, in her tie-dye shirt and her whimsical braids.

‘Skylar,’ I say.

‘There’s an ambulance on the way,’ says Serena, but I’m already running down the jetty, jumping from rock to rock, back inland.

I scramble down the rocks on to the beach, and the second my feet hit sand, I run flat out.

The jolt of Serena’s footsteps is right behind.

The buzzing is gone, the numbness a distant memory.

I’m fully present. I can feel the cut of the wind and the painful, anxious thumps of my heart.

I don’t know what happened to Skylar, but I can guess: teenagers aren’t supposed to be dosing themselves with potent laxatives.

All I can think as I run is, Not like Jessica. Don’t let this be like Jessica. Down the beach, back to the place that takes, and takes, and takes.