Page 19 of No Place Left to Hide

I didn’t throw another party here until after she left school.

“Or how about the time—”

I throw up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it. Claire’s unpredictable. She has to go. We just have to be careful about how we do it.”

“Great. I’ll very carefully tell her to get the fuck out.”

Ugh, my blood pressure. “At least wait until she finishes her conversation andpolitelyget her over here. Tell her…she didn’t puther phone in the basket. If anyone overhears, they won’t think anything of it.”

Jena rolls her eyes but nods and folds her arms across her chest. Her gaze is trained on Claire. She looks like a pissed-off eagle, waiting to claw Claire’s eyes out.

God, if only I could let her do it. The thought of unleashing Jena on this banshee of drama is intensely satisfying.

Someone hands Claire a drink—Beau, I think—and after a few minutes she steps away from the group, scanning the room. Jena’s on her in a flash, tapping Claire on the shoulder and leaning in to whisper in her ear.

Claire looks at Jena and then over at me with a visible sigh, but they both walk toward me together. I hope she exits as calmly. Goodwins don’t cause a scene.

She comes to a stop in front of me, her back to the rest of the party, then takes a long drink from her Solo cup. I won’t let her rattle me. I pretend she’s Jena or Dylan—who I notice never came back—and will some warmth into my smile.

Claire scowls. “Don’t give me your People Pleasing Brooke face. That shit pisses me off. I know you want me to leave, so for once why don’t you act how you feel and be honest about it?”

I hold on to my smile. “I don’t know what you mean. This is my normal face.”

“Liar. Are you going to ask me to leave or what?”

“It’s nothing personal, Claire,” Jena says. “We’re trying to have fun and relax before school starts. We don’t want any drama tonight, and I’m sorry but you’re always the first person to cause trouble. Especially lately.”

Claire steps around me to set her cup on the side table by the doorand gathers her long wavy hair up off her neck, flicking it back over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” she asks, too loud for the foot of space between us. “I’m not here to cause any drama. You know I hate that crap.”

In my peripheral vision, I see people turn to watch us.

“Oh sure, you’re the picture of good behavior,” Jena mumbles.

Claire glares at her, but when she looks at me her smile is alarmingly warm. Fake, but warm. It probably matches mine perfectly. “I only want to hang out. I miss everyone, and I knew you wouldn’t mind if I crashed. You’re always so…inclusive. Honestly, it’s so sweet.”

I’m acutely aware that she’s now facing the party. Up on the raised entryway, it’s like she’s found her stage. And she’s playing the role of the old friend who’s looking to reconnect. How can I kick her out like this?

I fight to keep my hands from flexing at my sides. “I try not to turn anyone away.”

Claire’s smile is blinding. “See? I knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, I miss my girls.” She sends a meaningful look Jena’s way, leaving me with scraps of the same expression. “I’d hate to go into senior year holding grudges. It’s all water under the bridge, right?”

Jena’s stare could bore a hole straight through my head. She wants me to say no. She wants me to tell Claire that it’snotwater under the bridge and never will be. That she’s done too many horrible things for us all to simply move on. But Jena has to know if I say any of that, Claire’s going to beg to stay, or cry, turning her watery eyes to the crowd like a sad, shunned girl, while I look like the Regina George tyrant who threw her out on her ass.

I glance toward the party and find Dylan standing by the kitchen island. He meets my gaze, then looks back at Claire, like he’s waiting to see how this plays out. But unlike everyone else, he looks a little sick.

It takes everything in me to reach out and take Claire’s hand. “Of course you can stay. There’s no reason we can’t put everything behind us. Just make sure you leave your phone in the basket,” I say, nodding toward it. “House rules.”

Claire grins like a thief who’s cracked a safe and very deliberately drops her silver iPhone onto the pile and snatches up her drink again. On her way past me, she stops and grips me in a sudden hug that’s almost pinching around the shoulders. Her mouth hovers by my ear. “Goodwins aresoaccommodating. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

Before I can react, she’s gone, flouncing off toward the living room again. The dancing resumes in earnest now that the glimmer of impending drama has faded, leaving me with a sour churning in my stomach.

I turn toward Jena. Her annoyance could wither a freshman in seconds. Luckily, I’m not a freshman, and I’m used to her disapproval. “I didn’t have a choice, Jena.”

“Oh, you absolutely did. This is your house. You’re actually theonlyone who gets a say in who’s allowed to be here.”

I watch Claire floating through groups ofmyfriends. “I know, but until she causes a scene, there’s no way to get her out of here without looking like a total bitch. Particularly after her little speech about friendship and mending bridges or whatever.”

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