Page 50 of No Place Left to Hide

I hand the paper towels to her with a meaningful look, and she rolls her eyes. We wipe spills from the outside of the bottles and put them back in the living room liquor cabinet, then lock it with the key I’m not supposed to have. I stick the key back in the top drawer of my dad’s desk.

The house looks almost exactly like it did when I arrived this afternoon. The three trash bags piled by the island and a lone bottle of Malibu on the counter are only evidence that a party occurred at all.

Dylan comes in from the deck with a fourth bag that’s only half-full. “Found some more cups out on the deck and in the yard. I got them all.”

He drops the bag on top of the others and Felix claps him on the shoulder. “Jesus, Miller. After all this time, you finally come to one of Brooke’s parties and it turns into a brawl.”

I gape at him.Felix, shut thefuckup.

Dylan recoils, and I can practically see the guilt crash back over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I should probably get going. Sorry to brawl and run, but…”

I shoot a panicked glance at Jena, but the wheels are already turning behind her eyes. Dylan takes a step away from the sink and she jumps in his path.

“Actually, I was thinking we could light a fire outside. Just the four of us? It’s been a wild night, but it would be nice to end it on a high note.The point of this party was to celebrate starting our senior year, right? There’s no reason we can’t do that in a smaller group.”

Dylan hesitates, looking from Jena to the sliding glass door, and then to me. I smile and will him to stay with everything in me.

Finally, he shrugs. “That sounds cool.”

Yes!

The boys head for the deck, shoving each other as they go, and the second they’re stomping down the stairs to the backyard, I wheel on Jena, planting a huge kiss on her cheek.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Jena laughs. “It’s the least I could do after leaving you to deal with the Demon Queen alone.”

I wave her off and lower my voice. “I don’t want to talk about Claire—ever again. I want to talk about you and Felix. What happened outside?”

“Let’s not talk aboutthateither,” she says, snatching the bottle of Malibu off the counter. “We sorted through it, but it’s…far from resolved and not something I wanted to deal with tonight. Come on, let’s rally and start this school year with a bang.”

She waits at the door for me, but I hold up a hand.

“Go ahead. I’ll be right out.” I point at my mashed-up face. The bathroom mirror is calling my name something fierce. “I need a minute.”

“Fine, but don’t leave me down there by myself. If they start talking game stats, I’m going to throw myself into the lake,” she says, slipping outside and sliding the door closed behind her.

I race to the bathroom. In the harsh overhead light, I can already see bruises forming beneath my eyes, but it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would. I take a second to gently wash the makeup smearsfrom my cheeks and under my eyes, and I reapply what I can with the makeup in my purse. When I’m done, I look…mostly okay? A little puffy, but no longer like a raccoon caught in a rainstorm.

Before I pop outside, I lock the front door—in case any stragglers try to come back inside. The basket by the door catches my eye. There are four phones still inside.

Felix’s, a plain black iPhone with some kind of goofy-haired anime character on the case.

Dylan’s, in a blue silicone case with a sticker on the back that says “Stephen King Book Club, EST 1974.”

Jena’s, in its gold glitter case.

And a fourth, plain silver iPhone, no case.

Claire left her phone here.

I hold it up in the light and smile. Looks like it’s mine now. Maybe I’ll throw it into the lake. Or run it over. Or toss it out the window on the drive home.

I picture her searching the woods for it along the highway in the middle of nowhere, using Find My iPhone to locate it. It’s not like she can afford to get a new one. She’ll have no choice but to wander around in the muddy brush for hours trying to find it.

I toss it on the counter as I walk by, laughing to myself.

Revenge is a bitch…and so am I.

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