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"Come on, sit down," I said and slid over.
Liam flung his arm around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him. "So...how are you holding up?"
"I just can't believe it, you know? How could this have happened? Can the police really get away with ignoring the testimony of three different people?" I felt tears of frustration p.r.i.c.k my eyes again. How could I have failed Grace like this?
"I don't know, but I do know that these societies have connections, so it's possible."
"They need to pay." I rolled Grace's pearls between my fingers.
"You need to stay out of this now, Kate. They're dangerous." He looked directly at me, and I knew in an instant that he was really seeing me-not just my eyes, my crazy pink hair, or even the almost invisible line of freckles that was scattered over the bridge of my nose, but me. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I went back there to the clock tower." I avoided Liam's eyes.
"Are you insane? How could you go there alone? You've got to be kidding me, Kate. Do you want to get yourself killed?" His face was bright red, and he threw my hand down like it was on fire.
"I tried to get into the tunnels, but they've sealed the entrance. It was like the tunnels never existed."
He froze and looked at me, the anger replaced with shock.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. It's sealed. And now I have no idea how to get back in. I even tried the other words, every word I could find. Nothing."
"You need to promise me something." He stood up from the swing and stared directly in my eyes.
"Promise me you'll stay away from them." He didn't need to say their names. We both knew exactly who he was talking about.
"I just don't know if...I mean, I can't just..." I thought of Ms. D. and how hard she'd probably fought over the years. But Liam gave me a hard stare, and I knew that if I didn't agree, he'd leave me and never look back. It wasn't that he didn't care about me. I think he probably cared too much.
"Okay, okay. I promise. For now." For a second I thought Liam was going to protest, but he just nodded his head and looked away.
I walked toward him then, pressing my body to his as he wrapped his arms around my back. My head fit perfectly against his chest, and I tried to memorize the feel of his chin resting on top. He smelled like soap and peppermint, and when I felt his fingers graze my own, I knew that this was it. I was finally going to kiss Liam Gilmour.
He lifted his chin and looked down at me, and we stood frozen for a moment. I studied the zipper of his fleece jacket before raising my eyes to his. And that's all it took. He leaned close enough for our lips to meet, and as they did, I felt a part of the sadness of the past year slip away, if only for a moment.
His lips were gentle but insistent as they moved against mine, and I realized that this was the moment I'd been waiting for over the past few weeks. Justice had eluded me, but this was something.
"Hey, guys, what's up?"
Oh, G.o.d, please tell me this isn't happening. I knew that voice, and I knew that the second I opened my eyes, I'd be a.s.saulted with a ma.s.s of frizzy red curls and a huge smile.
"Oh, hey, Seth." Liam smiled down at me.
"Why isn't anyone talking about the Sisterhood or the Brotherhood? Did they cover it up somehow? I remember this one time when the Skull and Bones was being investigated and..."
Seth gestured to the porch swing and sat down where Liam had been sitting. I could tell he was gearing up to tell some big story, and I could not have this conversation right now. Not after what I'd just promised Liam.
I put my hand up in an attempt to silence him. "I just can't talk about this right now, okay? It feels like I lost her all over again." I hated that my voice cracked on the words. "I just need some time to think."
And as I said the words out loud, I realized they were true. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. But I wasn't ready to think about what part of the fight came next. Not yet. I needed to grieve for Grace, to let her go.
"Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry." Seth looked uncomfortable, and I felt awful. He'd been my friend when no one else would give me the time of day. I had to be more patient with him.
"No, I'm sorry, Seth. It's not your fault..." I trailed off.
"Actually, we were just going to go grab some coffee. Want to come?" Liam shot me a questioning look, but I didn't blame him for asking Seth along. At least I'd gotten one kiss.
"Uh...thanks, but I'll let you guys head out on your own. I mean, I don't want to be like the third wheel or something and..."
"Come on, you're not the third wheel. Besides, we're totally planning on ditching you later." Liam grinned at me, and my heart flip-flopped.
My mouth formed into the type of smile that traveled all the way up my cheeks and crinkled my eyes. It was a huge dorky smile; it had been a long time since my face muscles had been exercised. I was surprised they still worked.
I thought back to the photograph of me, Grace, and Maddie. In the picture and for most of that summer, I had worn that same smile. I couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Even though I tried to push them back, tears gathered, resting on my eyelashes. I tried to raise my chin to fight gravity so the tears would stay put. But it was no use. They spilled over and found their way to the corners of my mouth.
When the tears wouldn't stop, I was thankful that Liam and Seth turned toward the street, talking quietly and giving me a chance to cry for Grace. At that moment, it was clear how much I had lost. And yet it was also obvious how much I had found. Liam and Seth were the kind of friends a girl can depend on. The kind that last forever.
Chapter 58.
I walked into Dr. Prozac's office weighed down with even more issues than when I'd begun counseling the previous year. But for some reason, I felt lighter.
Prozac: You're looking well, Kate.
Me: Thanks.
Prozac: So life's good? (Dr. P. c.o.c.ked his head and seemed shocked to have asked such a question.) Me: Sort of. (I'd been attacked in secret underground tunnels, the police destroyed evidence I'd worked for weeks to collect, and the secret societies I knew existed had magically disappeared. But I was here.) Prozac: Well, not many people are one-hundred percent good. (He tapped his pen on the desk twice as though to punctuate his point.) Me: Yeah, I'm starting to realize that.
Prozac: So the reality is that "sort of good" is actually pretty great.
Me: Um, sure. (And, though it killed me to think it, he was right. I had managed to find a couple of real, live friends, maybe even a boyfriend. Life really was kind of great.) Prozac: And what about Grace? Your parents filled me in on the most recent incident. It was an accident, Kate. You can't live your life looking for someone to blame.
Me: I know. (Besides, I had already discovered where to place the blame. Now I just had to figure out how to bring them down. An accident was never really just an accident.) Prozac: I'm proud of you, Kate. You've really come a long way.
Me: You have no idea.
Chapter 59.
I had a love-hate relationship with my computer.
After everything that had happened, I kind of hated it again. But I managed to brush aside my hard feelings and flipped it open to check my mail.
A few new messages had appeared in my inbox, but there was only one I cared to read.
To: [email protected]
Sent: Sun 2:43 PM.
From:
Subject: (no subject).
Thank you.
Warm tears trailed down my cheeks, and I marveled that I still had any left. After everything that had happened, after investigating each of Taylor's clues and hoping to get my best friend back, after picking up the pieces of my broken heart again and again, I sat and I cried. I cried for Grace, and I cried for me. I even cried for Maddie. And when the tears finally stopped, I was able to read the email again.
On some level, I knew the words had to be Taylor's. But an image of the girl in the plaid skirt who had guided me over the past few weeks flashed in my mind. And just like that, the words became Grace's. One last message from the friend I'd lost forever.
I grabbed my favorite picture of Maddie, Grace, and me, tucked the frame into the inside pocket of my parka, and pulled the coat over my shoulders. Despite the thin layer of snow on the ground, I yanked my bike from inside the garage. I didn't feel like asking anyone for a ride, so I'd just have to hope the streets were clear enough to ride.
As I rode, the wind bit at my ears and made my eyes water. Luckily, I didn't have far to go. My wheels slid a little as I made my turn and even more when I went to brake, but at least I made it without falling down. I leaned my bike against one of the huge oak trees and walked through the fresh snow to Grace's grave.
In loving memory of Grace Elizabeth Lee, beloved daughter and friend. "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see G.o.d."
I ran my fingers over Grace's name and reached into my pocket for the frame. I set it down near fresh flowers and looked at the girl I used to be.
"I miss you, Grace. I'll always miss you." I whispered the words, for once not feeling stupid for talking to a ghost. After I'd wiped away most of my tears, I straightened and turned to leave.
But there stood Taylor. Her head was bent to give me privacy, and she tugged at the fingers of her gloves.
"Hey." My voice cracked coming out, and I realized that aside from crying, I hadn't said much of anything that day.
Taylor lifted her head and dropped her hands to her sides. "I told them the truth, you know." She clenched and unclenched her gloved fingers. "Detective Livingston, I mean. I told him about Alistair, the fire, everything. He wrote it all down and then thanked me and said sometimes accidents happen. That we have no control over some things. And he let me go home. That was it."
"What about Maddie?" I asked.
Taylor wiped beneath her nose.
"I heard they let her go too."
We stood for a second without much more to say, so I nodded my head and walked back to my bike.
"Um, Kate?" Taylor's voice shook a little bit. "I also wanted to give you this." She held out a creamy white envelope and turned around to go. When I pulled out the card inside, I saw the crest that had become all too familiar. The symbol for shared secrets, unity, maybe even second chances.
The artist had used maroon-colored wax to carefully etch the crest of the Sisterhood on the creamy card stock. I ran my fingers over the image. It was smooth. Perfect.
On the back, Taylor had printed "Better late than never."
"Wait," I called out. Taylor stopped but didn't turn around. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested in pledging. Right now I need to figure things out on my own." I placed the card back in her gloved hand and walked back to my bike, still leaning against the tree where I had left it.
"Kate," she called. I turned around and met Taylor's clear eyes once again. They were gla.s.sy with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. About Grace, I mean." She adjusted the sleeves of her jacket. "It was never supposed to happen that way."
I stared down at the frozen ground, trying to steady my voice. "Yeah, I'm starting to understand that."
Taylor turned and walked toward the cemetery gate.
Life was never going to be the same without Grace. I stole one last glance at the three laughing girls in the photo and realized I would never be that girl again.
But I think I was finally ready to give this new Kate a chance. She deserved it.
Acknowledgments.
When we set out to write books together we had no idea what we were getting into. Publishing is a tough business. But luckily it comes complete with some of the most amazing people we've (n)ever met.
To our incredible agent, Catherine Drayton, you saw promise in our work and never lost faith in us or in Kate. Thank you for telling us our original t.i.tle was "wet," talking us off ledges, making us laugh, and cheering us on.
To our editors-Dan Ehrenhaft for giving us a chance, Kelly Barrales-Saylor and Leah Hultenschmidt for pushing us to make this book the best it can be. To Kristin Zelazko, production editor extraordinaire, who helped us walk the fine line between bad grammar and voice. To Mallory Kaster for contributing to hundreds of covers and finally finding one that is so totally Kate. Thank you to the entire team at Sourcebooks for believing in our work and putting up with our crazy ideas (we're looking at you, Paul Samuelson).
To all of our amazing writer friends-Loretta Nyhan, there is absolutely no way we could do this without you. Not only are you the original beta ninja, but you are an incredible friend. To Elana Johnson for reading our first draft and including us in all of your grand schemes. To Scott Tracey and Beth Revis for ripping into our millionth revision and pushing us even further. To Joanna Stampfel-Volpe for being one of the nicest, most supportive people in publishing and hooking us up with an incredible network of writers. To Katie Anderson, Sarah-Frances Hardy, and Jeanette Schneider for clicking onto our blog and into our lives. To all of our amazing blog readers, thank you for coming back every day and reading our randomness. Your comments are the highlight of our day. To the Hopefuls, the WriteOnCon team, the Elevensies, the Bookinistas, and our YA book club for helping us find our place in the writing community. And to Kiri for fixing our b.a.s.t.a.r.dized Latin. Apparently free online translators don't work. Good to know.
To Dianne Caywood, Tara McKendry, Sarah Berg, and Zack and Casie Markwell for reading our first doomed ma.n.u.script and "loving it." To Rick and Sarah Jackson and Erik Vaughan for being willing readers. And Alex, Emma, and Rachel, our first readers of the YA variety. To our grandma, Josephine Trinetti, for reading our blog every single day and saying enough novenas to land us a book deal. And Liz Stropki, our one-woman publicity team who never leaves home without our business card. To all of our friends and family, thank you for supporting our double lives as writers.
To our dad, Mike Roecker, for pushing us to write strong, female characters and to our mom, Joni "the Regulator" Roecker, for reading more book blogs than we do and keeping us abreast on all things publishing. To the third Roecker, Stacey Vaughan, for choosing to read our book, for acting as our personal graphic design slave, and for her unwavering love and support. To Ken and John for giving us the chance to live our dream. We're still not sure we'd be that supportive of one of your "hobbies." And finally, to Jack, Mia, Ben, and Lydia for not calling child services when we neglect you to write and for saying things like, "I want to write a pink book when I get older."
About the Authors.
Lisa and Laura Roecker are sisters-turned-writing-partners with a love of all things Young Adult. Some call it arrested development, but the sisters claim it keeps them young. Plus, it's cheaper than Botox. Lisa and Laura live in Cleveland, Ohio, in separate residences. Their husbands wouldn't agree to a duplex. The Liar Society is their first novel. To learn more, check out www.lisaandlauraroecker.com.
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