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When I don’t respond right away, her eyes widen. “Dang, I’m zero for two. How did you know?”
I still don’t answer. I could lie and tell her that I found out at the party when I punched Matt in his stupid face, but she can read me well, so it’s safer to stay silent.
The truth is I’ve known Charlie a lot longer than most people realize—or known of her at least.
Serenity plays the dumb blonde well, but the girl is smart, and she looks at me with narrowed, calculating eyes.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes light up. “She’s the cat girl.”
Her statement catches me off guard. “What?”
NINE YEARS AGO…
Something’s wrong. I can feel it when I look at her. She’s not colorful tonight. She’s wearing a black satin dress, black tights, and shiny black Mary Janes. Even her face is colorless, the rosy tint gone from her pale cheeks.
I frown.
“You coming?” Sebastian pulls at my sleeve, and I nod absently. “Trey’s been in there twenty minutes, and he’s already blitzed.”
I pause, and even though my brain screams that it’s a bad idea, I ask anyway because I have to know for some reason. “What’s wrong with your sister?”
Sebastian glances over to where she stands with Matt, glumly toeing the floor. He gives me a steady look, and I know he’s probably wondering why I care.
Why do I care?
“Our cat’s missing,” he says, his eyes flashing with empathy. “She’s worried.”
“Ah” is my only response, and then I follow him to the pool room without another thought.
But later that night, as I sprawl on one of the pool loungers, lazily blowing smoke into the cool night air, I hear raised voices. I stub out my cigarette and walk over to the French doors leading into the main part of the house, pausing just within earshot of the argument.
“Charlotte, it was just a cat,” the young male voice huffs. I assume it’s Matt when I hear Charlotte’s stricken voice.
“But she was sleeping in my room. How did she get out? I swear I heard something.”
“What?” he scoffs. “You think someone catnapped her? You’re being ridiculous.”
My heart squeezes when I hear Charlotte sniffle, obviously upset.
“She’s dead,” he continues, and I stiffen at his words. “I mean, she’s probably dead—hit by a car or something.”
“Someone hurt her,” Charlotte says quietly. “I know it.”
He grabs her elbow to pull her back inside. “Just go back to the party, and stop embarrassing me.”
Anger sparks in my chest, and I take a step toward the patio, but Charlotte beats me to it. She jerks her arm, and when he doesn't release his grip, she stomps down on his foot. She’s clearly not a helpless little girl.
Matt grunts and drops her arm.
I step back into the shadows as Charlotte scurries by me, running into the garden. Her silhouette fades into the darkness, and then I turn to watch Matt storm back into the house.
I hate him. She deserves better.
The next day, I walk over to Serenity's house because I don’t want to share my idea with Trey or my mom, and I have no other girl friends. I find Seren swinging on her backyard swing set, her scrawny legs pumping back and forth. She’s not eating again—I can tell by the way her bones seem to stick out of her body and the dark smudges under her eyes.
“Hey, Seren,” I say hesitantly, and she drags her feet on the ground, coming to a halt. She smiles at me, and I return it. “Will you help me with something?”
A few minutes later, we put on our bike helmets and head to the only toy store in downtown Brighton.
