Body & Soul

Once we were back in Groundsboro, I gave Will directions to Ben's place, though he didn't seem to need them. It made sense, I suppose. Small town, relatively small school, and Ben's parties were the stuff of such fervent gossip that you didn't need to have actually attended one to know how to find their official sponsored location.

Not to mention the fact that about a mile from Ben's actual house we had to pass THE tree, the one Will would recognize all too well, the very same one that had gotten us into this mess. Well, that may be a slight exaggeration. This particular situation was, I suppose, more my fault for taking Lily's body than the tree's for simply existing for Lily to crash into. But still.

I stared at the tree as we drove by. It seemed like it should bear some mark of its significance — if not some otherworldly celestial glow or a giant flashing arrow over the top of it, maybe massive damage left from the crash — a sign that something tragic and important had occurred there.

But there was no glow or arrow, and if there was damage, I couldn't see it in the dark. It was just a big old tree. A flash of bark bleached white in the sweep of our headlights, and then it was gone, lost to the shadows as we made the curve Lily had missed.

“You okay?” Will asked. “You're quiet. It's kind of freaking me out.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, even though he probably couldn't see that in the dim light from the dashboard. I was too tired to make more of an effort. It felt like it was taking everything I had to keep myself together… literally. “Just thinking.”

“Why start now?”

I punched his shoulder lightly.

“It's going to be fine.” He held his hand out to me.

Sure, as long our two definitions of that word were not wildly different, which I wasn't so certain of at this moment.

But I took his hand anyway, lacing my fingers between his and enjoying the sensation of security and warmth while it lasted, however long that would be.

The closer we got to Ben's house, the number of cars parked on both sides of the street, in shitty attempts at parallel parking, increased, and I could hear the distant thump of music even over the sound of the engine.

Despite everything, and I do mean everything, some part of me reacted to the familiar stimuli, and my heartbeat kicked up a notch in anxiety and anticipation. Like this was somehow permanently encoded as part of my identity. And maybe that wasn't far from the truth. Ben's parties had been as much of my school life as cheerleading or classes. I'd been going since seventh grade, though those early parties were more “seven minutes in heaven” and spiked Sprite than sexual misconduct and full-on keggers.

I'd looked forward to them with equal parts eagerness and dread. I mean, hey, who doesn't love a party? Except it was another couple of hours to be on my guard, another chance for my carefully constructed sham of a life to tumble down around me if I said or did the wrong thing, showed weakness, spoke to someone I should have ignored, or drank too much or too little.

Point of fact, I didn't drink at all. Which only added another layer of complication, actually, seeing as that was not the norm. It was another thing that had to be, if not covered up, at least not openly acknowledged so as to avoid questions. It occurred to me now, thinking about all of this, how very little of my life had been real.

It had, however, been exhausting.

And yet I remembered laughing with Misty in the kitchen at finding a chip shaped like a more-than-generous representation of the male anatomy — a silly, stupid moment, but fun — and the brief feeling of safety that came from being surrounded by my friends and followers, people I thought cared about me.

Well, I'd learned better since then, but that hadn't made the memories go away — just tainted them with a longing and nostalgia for a time that hadn't really existed.

“You're going to have to turn around to find a place to park,” I said. “It's full this close to the house, and nobody's leaving yet.”

“The driveway's empty,” he pointed out, cocking his head toward the sweeping brick driveway. The drive was large enough for three cars across and probably four rows deep, and it had a huge circular turnaround at the far end. Ben's dad was a car dealer; what can I say?

“Yeah, Ben's rules. Something about making it less obvious where the party is being held or something.” Like his neighbors weren't all too aware of that already. I suspected his dad must have bribed them. How much would it have cost for a dealer to give away a car or two, anyway?

Will's lip curled, and he cranked the wheel hard to the right, sending the car into the driveway. Then he pulled all the way up to the four-car garage and a ridiculous stone fountain they had in the center of the turnaround.

“Yeah, that's good,” I said. “Subtle.”

He gave a sulky shrug. Will did not like Ben. I didn't blame him, but now was not the time.

“Can you just be less of a guy right now and focus?” I let go of his hand — making myself do so swiftly and without the reluctance I felt — and reached for the door. Everyone was already at the back of the house; nobody to freak out over a door opening by itself.

Will caught my arm. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Duh. Someone has to make sure Erin's actually here before we go charging in.”

“But if she sees you—”

I raised my eyebrows. “As opposed to the dozens or more who will definitely see you?”

Will released my arm with a sigh and slumped back in his seat. “Just… be careful.”

He looked so dejected and worried I couldn't resist. I let go of the door and slid across the seat. I leaned over him, bracing myself with one hand on the center armrest and the other on his door. I was only a couple of inches from his face before he figured out what I was up to.

He sucked in a sharp breath in anticipation, and warmth spread through me. Nice that I could still provoke that reaction.

I brushed his mouth lightly with mine, focusing on the details. His familiar clean-boy-and-laundry scent and the soft friction of his lips beneath mine.

Will surprised me then, leaning forward into the kiss and lifting his hand to the back of my head to hold me closer. His mouth moved fiercely over mine, and it was like he was pouring all the words he couldn't say, all the complications we couldn't unsnarl, all his frustration and fear, into this one moment.

And I couldn't think, caught up in the taste of him, the feel of his heat inches from me, but I couldn't touch him, not without falling… and I really, really wanted to. Both touch and fall.

My arms started to shake… No, wait, scratch that — all of me was shaking. But I didn't care. I wanted to stay here forever.

Then Ed coughed and mumbled something in his sleep from the backseat, startling both of us. I'd forgotten he was there.

I leaned back away from Will, my breathing all uneven and my heart pounding, and slowly eased back into my seat. I caught myself wondering what it would have been like to be Ally during the kiss. It had been intense as it was, but I felt so much more when I was her. I shivered.

Will watched me retreat with a warmth in his gaze that suggested I wasn't the only one who'd lost track of time, place, and circumstances.

I bit my lip, which felt puffy and tingly; I was so tempted to stay.

But for how long? That thought alone was enough to dump a metaphorical bucket of cold water on my overheated emotions.

I looked away from Will and fumbled for the door. “I'll be right back.”

“Promise?” he asked as I climbed out.

I didn't know what to say, caught between what I wanted and what I could control. So I didn't say anything at all.

A long-established piece of wisdom from Ben's soirees was that it wasn't a party until someone was barfing in the bushes. Specifically, Mrs. Rogers's rhododendrons. Fortunately, Katee Goode was filling that role quite admirably — and kind of impressively — when I came around the corner.

Such a sophomore. I shook my head in disgust and started to walk around her, and then stopped with a sudden realization.

Katee was a junior now. School was starting up again in a couple of weeks. Everyone was moving on, getting older. Everyone except me.

I looked at the back of her blond head — plainly visible in the bright moonlight — bobbing above the greenery, and felt a sharp pang of envy. Katee would, in theory, put in another two years at Groundsboro and move on to college and then the rest of her life, where this moment would be a distant memory. She had her whole life ahead of her. I did not.

I felt my nails dig into my palms as I clenched my hands in fists. I, who'd never envied anybody anything — except maybe Lily for her family — envied the girl upchucking in the underbrush? No way.

It was pathetic.

Anyone dumb enough to come here and get that wasted, especially alone — a very sophomore, third-tier move — did not deserve to be envied.

Maybe. Maybe not. But it didn't change how I felt.

I sighed and kept walking.

Ben's backyard looked like it had at all the other parties I'd attended here. The food — chips of assorted varieties in plastic bowls, and pizza that was already mostly gone — was laid out on several card tables.

The keg was probably just inside the tree line at the back of the property, based on the steady flow of red-cup-carrying partyers coming and going from that general direction.

Most people had gathered on the open grass between the deck and the woods, dancing, talking in small clusters, and generally stumbling around. The outdoor floodlights were on, and someone, Ben probably, had stabbed the ground with those tacky bamboo torches at varying intervals throughout the yard. The flickering flames cast wild shadows across the faces of those standing near them. Music thumped hard from huge speakers near the deck — someone's iPod was plugged in, churning through a party mix that was mostly bass and nothing recognizable at that volume.

I spotted my friends — former friends, actually — sprinkled throughout the yard. Misty and Chris didn't seem to be here yet — no surprise there, as Misty was always late for everything. But Ashleigh Hicks and Jennifer Meyer were dancing together near the deck in a manner probably intended tobe provocative. Unfortunately, it came off more like creepy and awkward, given their matching outfits (as always) of short navy skirts and blue-and-white-striped shirts and their wildly disparate body types. Jennifer was a good five inches taller than Ashleigh. Also, they looked kind of like slutty sailors from the 1970s.

Jeff Parker, the intended audience for said sexy dancing, was paying no attention, his head bent over his guitar, and an adorable underclassman girl standing next to him, asking about the guitar or playing or something. Ha, good for him. I'd always liked Jeff — he was less likely to participate in our bullshit. At least he hadn't openly mocked me after my death. Unlike some people…

Miles Stevens stood off to one side, watching. He was spiffily dressed as usual, in a long-sleeved dress shirt and khakis, despite the lingering August heat. I couldn't be sure from this distance, but I was willing to bet that, thanks to me, his nerdwear was now designer.

And Leanne was next to Miles, staring out at the crowd with him and likely whispering catty comments in his ear. But where was Erin/Lily? I didn't see her near them.

My heart sank. Maybe she wasn't here after all. She'd be near Leanne, the only person she knew, wouldn't she?

I moved closer for a better look, skirting the edge of the crowd and weaving my way through the tiki torches. It wasn't until I was within a few feet of Leanne that I realized she wasn't watching the crowd in general but was focused quite intently on someone or something. Her eyes were bright with spite and amusement… not to mention something that looked an awful lot like loathing.

And she wasn't the only one watching whatever or whoever it was. In fact, a good majority of the people on this side of the party appeared to be enjoying the same spectacle, pointing and giggling and whispering and…

Oh, God. I froze, afraid to turn around. Only one person made Leanne's eyes glow with hatred like that — Ben Rogers. Ben and Leanne had hooked up freshman year, and when he'd dumped her, she'd never quite gotten over it. Any chance she could find to cause chaos for him — and get a laugh from it — would be an opportunity she'd take. But his presence alone wouldn't have been enough to trigger much notice from Leanne or the partygoers. It was, after all, his party. Of course he would be here. Most likely surrounded by whatever drunken or stupid girls he could find…

And suddenly I was terrified that I knew exactly who one of them would be.

Let's be clear: I never expected the Erin/Lily-at-Ben's party scenario to be good. I had heard enough from Erin to know that if she was here, she was looking for debauchery at its finest. Or worst. Whatever. Combine that with people thinking she was Lily and remembering what had gone down at the last party she'd attended, and we were already in uncharted levels of nasty.

But I have to confess, when I finally convinced myself to turn around and see what everyone else was seeing just fifteen feet from me, I never expected it to be this bad. Erin/Lily was wrapped around Ben Rogers like he was a stripper pole. Dark lipstick—not a flattering color or the one I'd picked out for Ally — was smeared across her face; her top bore a huge wet spot from beer she must have spilled down the front of it; and she had grass stains on her jeans from where she'd probably fallen. She was also somehow missing a shoe. But that wasn't the worst part. No. The worst—oh, sweet Lord—was her sticking her tongue so far down Ben's throat I half expected it to be poking through the back of his head.

And all of it while wearing MY face and MY body. Well, a face and a body I still thought of as my own; I'd seen them in the mirror every day for over a month.

I gagged first — oh, so many germs; I couldn't even think about what was living in Ben Rogers's mouth — and then a flash of fury swept over me, burning everything away, including common sense.

The smart thing would have been to turn around before Erin noticed me, go back to the car to talk it over with Will, and come up with some kind of plan to get her out of here… or at least away from everyone else.

Right.

“You stupid bitch.” The words flew out of my mouth in a shriek, like I had no control, and in that moment, I didn't. So much for doing the smart thing.

Erin heard me, even over the music, and looked around, dazed and startled. But she still kept her hold on Ben.

Unacceptable.

My vision blurry with rage, I threw myself past Leanne and collided with Erin/Lily, hard. She needed to learn. You do not mess with me. Any version of me. Past, present, or possible.