“Hey, Marissa,” Tina called out. “C’mere, we’re about to start Truth or Dare.” Tina’s speech was slurred, the way it always got when she was buzzed, something she’d been doing a lot more of that summer.
“Seems like the party started early tonight,” Marissa called back, but by then Tina’s attention was on twisting another can of Bud Light out of the plastic six-pack ring. Marissa and Tina had been best friends through eighth grade, sharing clothes and makeup, stickers and secrets. But right before high school began, Tina’s father moved away and Tina’s mom seemed to completely check out of parenting. Tina appeared to grow up overnight. Instead of wanting to be with Marissa, Tina started cutting classes, partying, and hanging out with some of the older kids. She already had a reputation, although no one knew how true the rumors were.
As Marissa drew closer, she saw Skip standing there, a smile curling the edges of his mouth, holding firewood logs. His arms were flexed under the weight, and she could see the outline of his biceps beneath his old T-shirt. His face being partly in the golden firelight and partly in shadows made him look both familiar and somehow brand-new.
She smiled back, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach.
Skip lifted up a log and tossed it on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks, then used a big stick to pull apart two pieces of wood, allowing more air to mix with the flames.
Out of the corner of her eye Marissa watched him work, struck by his physicality, his strong shoulders and biceps flexing as he lifted and pulled. Then he’d turned and smiled at her with a boyish grin that let her know he’d caught her watching.
When she claimed a seat, she felt another flutter when Skip came to sit beside her.
“I’ll go first,” Tina cried, jumping to her feet. “Someone give me a dare!”
The game progressed predictably: kids usually accepted dares—running into the surf fully clothed, shotgunning beers—but a few selected truths.
Then it was Marissa’s turn. Usually Marissa picked truth, partly because she didn’t have any big secrets, and partly because the dares got edgier as the game wore on.
But tonight, something pushed her to say, “Dare.”
“Kiss one of the guys next to you,” a girl giggled.
Marissa pretended to hesitate, as if she were considering which boy to choose. She took another sip of her wine cooler for courage, then turned toward Skip. She leaned forward and closed her eyes. His lips were soft and he smelled like suntan lotion and the Wintergreen Life Savers he always carried in his pocket.
The whole interaction lasted less than five seconds, but for Marissa, it changed everything.
As the game continued, she was acutely aware of Skip—Skip, the boy she’d known forever!—just inches away. She swore she felt his awareness of her, too.
Tina also seemed to sense it.
Marissa detected the heat of Tina’s glare. Marissa had a hunch Tina liked Skip, but Tina seemed to like lots of guys. Skip wasn’t hers to claim.
Besides, the sting of Tina’s abrupt withdrawal from Marissa’s life hadn’t abated.
Tina abruptly stood up, even though it wasn’t her turn. “I dare myself to take off my shirt!” Guys hooted and cheered as Tina slowly lifted her top, first revealing her pale, soft stomach and then her bright pink bra.
Marissa could barely fill out an A cup, and for a moment she was as awestruck as the boys by Tina’s lush body. It hadn’t been that long ago that Tina and she had stuffed socks in their training bras, giggling as they admired themselves in Marissa’s bedroom mirror.
A few of the kids clapped as Tina did a little shimmy. She stumbled briefly before catching her balance again.
“Dare you to take off your bra!” shouted Jimmy Parsons, one of the rough boys, who was a year ahead of Marissa. Instead of laughing and sitting back down, Tina slowly reached back with both hands, but she wasn’t looking at Jimmy. Her eyes, outlined in a bright turquoise, were staring straight at Skip.
Marissa heard the quick intake of breath of the guy on the other side of her.
The tenor of the evening changed instantly, as if the darkness just beyond them had seeped into their circle of firelight.
“Do it! Do it!” Jimmy chanted.
“Do it!” several other guys joined in.
The boys’ energy was palpable; it felt to Marissa as if a pack of wolves had picked up the scent of a rabbit. Tina was too impaired and too desperate for attention—even the wrong kind of attention.
Marissa jumped up. “Hey, Tina. Why don’t you have some water? Maybe it’s time to go home.…”
“Who are you, the hall shark?” one of the guys yelled, bringing up the nickname of the school monitor who kept tabs on the students.
“C’mon, man.” Skip reached over and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder.
“We’ve all seen her tits anyway,” Jimmy said, leering. “It takes one beer to kiss her, two beers to touch her, three beers to undress her, and four beers to fuck her!”
More hooting and hollering came from the other boys, and Marissa watched as Tina crumpled, as if the words were stones raining down on her.
“Screw you!” Tears streaked down Tina’s face. She grabbed her shirt and began to run.
They all watched her go, then Jimmy said, “I didn’t even get to what she does after five drinks!”—which made everyone laugh, except Marissa and Skip.
The laughter must have carried to Tina. As Marissa watched Tina slip as she struggled to run in the soft sand, Marissa found herself thinking about how before Tina’s parents divorced and the two girls would have sleepovers, Tina used to fall asleep snuggling a stuffed monkey. How utterly alone she must feel, Marissa thought.
“One of us should get her home,” Marissa whispered to Skip. “Make sure she’s all right.”
Skip looked at her in surprise. “Yeah?”
Marissa nodded. The thing swelling between her and Skip—it could wait.
“Do you want to go, or should I?”
“Let’s both go,” Marissa decided.
But that had been the wrong call: Of all the things Marissa regretted in life, this topped the list. She should have chased after Tina alone and hugged her and invited her to stay over again. Maybe then Tina would have been safe.
Seeing Skip and Marissa together had only upset Tina more. She’d lashed out at them, then run away again. By the time Marissa unlocked her front door later that night, her parents were sound asleep. She slipped upstairs quietly, put her clothes in the hamper, and brushed her teeth.
She lay awake for a long time, though.
The next morning, she awoke much later than usual and headed into the kitchen. Both her mother and her father sat huddled at the small table whispering, which made no sense, because who was manning the store?
They lifted their heads and stared at her. She’d only seen them look that way—so pale and stricken—once before, when her maternal grandmother had suddenly died of a heart attack.
“What is it?” Marissa had gasped.
“Sweetheart.” Her mother’s voice caught. “We have some terrible news. Tina…”
Her mother didn’t continue—maybe she couldn’t—and Marissa felt her heart pound. Dread infused her.
“Tina was found dead,” Marissa’s father finally said. “The police think she was murdered.”