If you didn’t catch it in the introduction, or chose to skip the introduction entirely, my name is Bianca Harold. However, if you didn’t read the introduction, I recommend that you do. But of course, I don’t blame you for skipping it. Most readers prefer to get to the juicy interior of the book ASAP and skip the beginning. It’s understandable. So yes, I’ll give you what you’re looking for: the juicy interior of my twisted life. My story begins in the tenth grade Biology class at Brookmore Prep School, the day before summer vacation. Obviously, the room was in a state of complete chaos, my classmates throwing crumpled papers at each other, pushing each other around, and tormenting the so-called “nerds” who were reading. The expensive beakers, microscopes, and lab computers looked like they were just waiting to be smashed and broken by the ruckus. My two best friends and I were sitting against the wall in the back of the class near the fan. “I’m so pumped to get out of this hell-hole tomorrow,” Marisa Carlton said, flashing her beautiful smile. “Wait; look at Corey reading Harry Potter. Like, what the hell is she trying to prove? That she’s better than us?” The three of us looked to the front of the class where Corey, the girl who brought Marisa the most joy to pick on, was sitting and reading. She looked so peaceful, just blocking out the noise with ease, like nothing was on her mind. Yes, it did annoy me when they would make fun of other people for no apparent reason, but I never said anything. After all, I was finally in with the popular girls. I fought so hard to be in that little clique. Even though I never really felt like one of them, I tried to act like it as much as I could. Marisa Carlton was the queen bee of our group of friends – whatever she said usually went. No one ever wanted to argue with her, because she could always prove them wrong. She had shoulder length brown, wavy, hair, which she usually kept back in a headband so as not to cover her exotic hazel eyes. She always wore a gold locket around her neck, but would never show anyone whose picture was inside. Marisa was beautiful, and she knew it and flaunted it. She had clear skin, perfectly straight white teeth, and always did her make up just right. Not to mention Marisa’s mother owned a huge business, and she was a multi-millionaire. “She goes through books like you go through boys,” I glared at her. Marisa laughed even harder, assuming it was a joke. It wasn’t, but at the time I let her think it was. “Come on guys, it’s almost summer, don’t we have anything more meaningful to talk about? Like, what are we going to do tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day. Seems to me like we have to find some nightlife or something,” Chloe White remarked, looking up from her computer. She was browsing through Rayban sunglasses for the soon-to-be summer vacation. Chloe White wasn’t as pretty as Marisa, but she was just as conceited and almost as wealthy. She had black hair that went halfway down her back, pale skin, and piercing aqua colored eyes. But the one thing she had that Marisa didn’t have was charisma; she was always laughing and joking around with her friends. Anyways, after Chloe said that, Marisa and I both nodded and things got pretty silent for a while. Probably because Chloe was watching Alec hump Miles (something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for the immature boys in my grade), Marisa was playing with the gold locket around her neck, and I was admiring Corey’s tranquility. At times, I wished I could be like her and just do my own thing without caring what anyone said. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by Marisa leaning over in front of me and whispering to Chloe. Chloe was smiling; a light was shining in her bright blue eyes. “What?” I asked, smoothing down my plaid skirt to ensure it didn’t ride up over my upper thighs. I was still a size zero, but my thighs were my biggest source of insecurity. “Party at Bianca’s tomorrow night?” Chloe asked. She knew that my parents weren’t going to be home for the next three days because my brother had a baseball tournament up in Vermont. “No,” I answered, without thinking. But I knew she would convince me otherwise. Chloe was like that, she was always good at getting what she wanted through persuasion and guilt tripping. “Come on Bianca, do you know how many people would come? It’s such a great way to kick off summer! Seriously, what else would you be doing tomorrow night? Sitting home alone watching reruns of America’s Next Top Model? You have the perfect party house Bianca,” Chloe begged, her voice getting higher and higher with each word. I looked down at my lap and reminded her calmly that I hadn’t watched America’s Next Top Model in over a year. I guess that wasn’t an excuse, or even relevant to what she was trying to get at, but it gave me a moment to assess the situation. Chloe glared at me and crossed her arms. Marisa turned to me with a half-smile, and shrugged her shoulders. “It would be so fun, I keep forgetting how boring you are Bianca.” “Fine,” I gave up. “Who would we invite? Who would even come? People usually go away the first day of a vacation.” “Thank you!” Chloe shrieked and hugged my side. “I will do anything you want, I swear, I will even lick between your toes or something along those lines.” Marisa gave Chloe a grossed out look, and grabbed the computer off of her lap. She closed the Rayban sunglasses tab and opened up a new document. She typed at the top “Party A-List.” Ever since the middle of the school year, my house became the so called “party house.” Maybe it was because my parents wanted me to fit in so they let me have people over, or maybe it was because word traveled fast in our town. But either way, it seemed as though with each party I had more and more people from different schools showed up. And this summer, it would be even better. My parents had just installed a huge hot tub next to our pool. Before Marisa got to write anything else, the bell rang and everyone leapt out of their seats to be the first ones out of the door. She shut the Macbook, and handed it back to Chloe. “Well, bi***es, I’ll see you tonight. Come to my house after dinner and we’ll get the planning done,” she said. “And also we have some things to talk about, if you know what I mean.” I didn’t know what she meant, and I bet Chloe didn’t either, but we followed her out of the classroom door and each went to our cars. I guess I’d see them later, I thought to myself, even though I was planning on watching a movie with my mom that night before she went away to Vermont. But I could do that anytime, I figured. * * * I had a birthday party during the summer of sixth grade even though my birthday was in December. I called it my half birthday. It was on June 30th, if I remember correctly. My dad recommended having my party in the summer because so many people went away during winter Christmas break, and more people would come in the summer. “A pool party is always a big hit,” my dad said. So my mom and I made a guest list and cute invitations. My parents were excited, you could say. It would be my first actual birthday party since kindergarten and my first boy/girl party ever. We had a cake specially made with my name on it, with little frosting flowers on the border and a cheerful looking “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIANCA!” in the middle. They even rented a helium machine to blow up balloons to tie to the mailbox and to the chairs around the pool. Things in sixth grade were so different from things in tenth grade. In sixth grade I read more books than anyone, even Corey, and that was my life. Reading. But, being a loner had its consequences, and I didn’t have a true friend to my pathetic name. Now that I think of it, I had a strong feeling that most people would blow off my birthday party because they had better things to do. But I was positive that at least one or two classmates would come. My dad assured me it was going to be a blast. I remember sitting on the steps of our big deck late that night with my mom, her arm around my shoulder, completely silent. She was crying, I know she was, but she would never admit it. The cake was sitting on the porch table, and my brother was playing with the party favors from one of the twenty unopened gift bags. The party favors were Harry Potter themed. I asked my mom why no one came. She said that everyone was probably away on vacation, and that dad lied to me about people being home. Those words by her started a huge family fight, I can tell you that much. The next morning, I sat outside, alone, eating the cake. It had rained the night before, so the cake was soggy. I didn’t care. The taste of food satisfied me like no friend or boy ever could. Food and books were my only friends, I decided. Later, I found out that Marisa Carlton had thrown a big party on June 30th that summer, and that I hadn’t been invited. * * * But that was sixth grade, my old life. In tenth grade, I was always the first one on Marisa’s “A-list.” It’s funny how fast things can change, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. And you’re never sure which is which. So that night, I went to Marisa’s house to plan the first party of summer 2011. My mom was pissed, but she didn’t really say anything besides she hoped I would “grace her with my presence” before she left for Vermont the next afternoon. I promised her that I would grace her, and that she could pick me up the next morning before lunch. I kissed her goodnight and went into my friend’s enormous mansion of a house. I found Chloe in the granite and stainless steel kitchen, where she was gazing dreamily into the fridge. She didn’t see me, so I decided to stealthily watch her for a while. She ended up devouring a whole plate of leftover steak tips, mashed sweet potatoes, crème brulee, whipped cream from the can, chocolate syrup, and then finished it off with a tall glass of diet coke. “Um, Chloe?” I finally said from behind. She jumped up like a frightened cat and dropped her glass onto the floor. She laughed awkwardly and said that she didn’t realize I was behind her. I apologized and told her to go upstairs with Marisa, and that I would clean up. After all, it was my fault that she spilled. She quickly agreed with my offer, and dashed up the stairs. I heard the bathroom door slam loudly, and the sound of running water. When the kitchen was mopped and vacuumed, Marisa and I sat down at her computer to start making the “party A-list.” Chloe was still in the bathroom. I wondered at the time how she could spend so long in there and why she always left the water running. It took me while of being her friend, but then I eventually figured it out… “So,” Marissa began with a grin. “I’m inviting Charlie obviously. Something is bound to happen between me and him, right? I mean, we’ve been flirting for nearly a month.” Charlie Baldwin was the hottest, and also nicest, junior in my private school, and Marisa was lucky enough to be the only sophomore he even acknowledged. Every morning he would walk with us to Math class and then smile beautifully at us as he said goodbye. As you can probably guess, she beamed with success and blushed lightly after he walked away. “Yeah, sure Mar. You need to go for that. He’s so cute, and you know he likes you,” I agreed. We thought of twenty more guys to invite after him, and the list was coming along pretty well, until we got to girls. “I think we should to invite Allison and Julia,” I said wearily. They were my best friends last year, before I became friends with Marisa and Chloe and the popular girls. My new friends hated them for some unknown reason, and they hated my new friends (for more obvious reasons). Marissa explained calmly to me that we couldn’t invite Allison and Julia because they didn’t fit in. That they were awkward, outsiders to our group and that I didn’t even like them anymore anyways. We couldn’t be friends with ugly girls who shopped at Target and wouldn’t know a Gucci bag from a Coach bag even if we explained the obvious difference in the logos. I nodded and pushed a piece of blonde hair away from my eyes, which were now free from the burden of glasses which I had worn since third grade. I remembered, Marisa said to me when we became friends: “I’m so glad you got contacts last year Bianca. You’re actually pretty now, although your make up needs a little help.” She never gave anyone a true compliment, but I guess I was flattered. “Whatever you say Mar, whatever you say.”

My first real kiss was during the summer before ninth grade. It was one of my many extremely clear memories because it haunted me every day. It seems as though the brain won’t let you forget memories like that, you know, things from your past that have hurt you. But I guess life would be too easy if you could just forget the hard times. His name was August. He had shiny silver Audi, a tattoo, and most importantly, he was older than me. August had most (if not all) of the superficial factors that every fourteen year old girl looks for in a guy. He was romantic and mysterious and knew all of the right things to say to me. He was perfect, and I loved him from the very first time we met. Our first kiss was like one from a fairytale, which led me to think that nothing about him was real. He brought me to gaze at the stars one night toward the end of summer. We had been hanging out every day for a month or so, going to dinner, getting ice cream, watching movies, swimming in the pool. This would be the start of something new, he had promised. I told him I was scared that he would meet another girl at college or something who was prettier than me. He swore on his own life that no girl in the world was better than me in any way, and that, after meeting me, he wouldn’t even be able to LOOK at another girl. After saying those words, he kissed me long and hard. This is where I belong, I thought. This is perfect, everything is perfect. Nothing will ever change. Or so I believed in naïve fourteen year old brain. * * * Before the party started, Chloe, Marisa, and I sat around the pool in my backyard and discussed what Chloe called the “game plan” for the night. Marisa would get Charlie a drink, and then ask him if he wanted to take a walk. Just the two of them. Chloe remarked that that plan was so cliché, and just a terrible idea. Marisa told her to shut the hell up, and asked her what boy she was going to “get with” tonight. If there even was one that lived up to her super high standards. I kept my mouth shut. Chloe said that she always had her eye on Charlie’s best friend Wolfe. Wolfe wasn’t as attractive as Charlie, with black hair, dark eyes, and a lanky build as opposed to Charlie’s blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall, well muscled figure, but he was just as intelligent. Wolfe was an all-state soccer player and had a pretty much guaranteed spot at Yale University since he was in tenth grade. However, Charlie had a pretty much guaranteed spot at Princeton, since his dad was an alumnus there and he was also on the college admissions board. “What about you, Bianca? Who do you have your eyes on for tonight?” Marisa asked me with a wink. “Galen Humes is awfully sexy these days, and he’s totally into you. I can just tell by the way he always checks you out in PE class.” “Isn’t he going to Harvard in the fall?” Chloe asked. “Yes, yes he is. Girl, you deserve someone like that. Smart, gorgeous, and sweet. Just like you.” I shrugged at them, and told them I would be right back. I went up to my room to get changed for the party. My room was a complete mess, so I decided the best option would be to keep the door locked during the party. Nonetheless, I hid the emerald ring that my grandmother gave me in my closet, in a “secret” shoebox that I kept on the top shelf. The ring was my most prized possession, but I didn’t wear it in the summer. I was afraid I would lose it in the pool. I hid the ring mostly because I didn’t know what kind of people would even show up tonight. Or whether or not I even trusted my own friends enough to keep the ring in my large and crowded jewelry box. I slipped into my white bikini and went over to my full-length mirror to see what it looked like. I touched my stomach and looked away from the reflection quickly. What are you so worked up about? You look fine, I tried to reassure myself. I was known as the ideal “All-American Beauty” to my friends. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and size zero. But for some reason, I knew it wasn’t good enough. My mind traveled back to August, and I quickly shook the image of our kiss out of my mind. The image of ultimate happiness. In fact, if I recall correctly, it was the only time I was truly happy in my life and it ended as suddenly as it started. He gave me no explanation when he broke up with me, just that he didn’t want a girlfriend in college. It was like a knife to the chest. I never truly got over him in all my years as a high school student. But, maybe tonight would be a turn around? Or maybe not. When I got downstairs, Chloe was in the master bathroom with the door closed and Marisa was lying down on the couch. My living room was rather large with a plasma screen TV, two brown leather chairs, and a formal couch that my mom always tried to keep us away from. The hardwood floors were immaculate, as the housekeeper always kept them, and a sense of calmness emanated throughout the room. At least for now, I thought. Marisa was in her favorite pink bandeau bikini and mirrored aviator sunglasses. She was, like always, wearing her gold locket around her neck. When she saw me standing next to her, she sat up and remarked that the pool was a bit chilly, and that the air outside was going to get rather cold by nine. “Mar, it’s going to be fine! By nine no one will even realize that it’s cold out. They’ll be so drunk. Trust me,” I winked at her. “Not like you would know. You don’t even know what alcohol smells like, never mind tastes like.” she said. Marisa and Chloe and my other friends knew I didn’t drink, but they still called me a “kill joy” and “stupidly sober” for that decision. I just rolled my eyes and plopped down onto the couch next to her. She moved over and lifted up her sunglasses. “S**t’s about to go down tonight, I hope you know,” she said. “Yes, I know. Would we have it any other way?” “Obviously not. Every hour, on the hour, report back to the basement. Progress reports from each of us girls.” “Sounds good to me,” I said, with a smile. “Just make sure you don’t lose your locket, okay Mar? I don’t know why you would wear it with a bikini.” “Stop worrying, Bianca. It’s my most prized possession, how could I lose it?” I laughed, and decided that nothing could ruin tonight. Boy, was I wrong.

I could never forget the way Marisa and I became best friends. It wasn’t the nicest of ways, but after that night, our friendship just sort of happened. It was Dane Meir’s annual Labor Day party at the beginning of the school year. Everyone in my grade, and the grades above mine, were invited. Even a few college kids came. But anyways, it was the biggest Labor Day party of the century, and it was meant to go down in history. Dane had a huge estate in the middle of town, with horses, three cars, a pool and two hot tubs, and a swim up bar just to top it all off. I went to the party with Alison and Julia, and we were just planning on chilling and having a good time. Talk with some people, eat some hors d'oeuvres, and then go home before anything scandalous happened. That’s when I first saw Marisa Carlton not in our private school uniform. Marisa Carlton without all of the makeup, without her hair neatly in a satin headband. She was in jeans and a loose white tee shirt, with nothing on under it. The music was blasting, and she was standing on top of the bar dancing, looking totally slutty might I add. “What does she think this is a strip club? What’s she trying to prove,” Julia whispered to me, a hint of jealousy in her voice. Jealousy that Marisa had the confidence to even do what she did that night. Just then, Marisa jumped off the bar top into Dane’s arms, knocking his glass of champagne into the pool. For some reason, I admired her craziness and “I don’t give a s**t” attitude. Don’t ask me why, but I did. I was so self-conscious and afraid to even talk to any of those kinds of girls for fear that they’d laugh at me. Later that night, I was fixing my hair in one of Dane’s five bathrooms when Marisa came bursting through the door. She fell hard onto the marble tile, and began to cry. I awkwardly asked her what was wrong, and she told me her boyfriend (Dane, I assumed) just broke up with her. After that, she told me everything. And somehow, we became best friends. I didn’t say I trusted her as a person, I’m just saying. Marisa and I became best friends. * * * So there I was, getting ready for a huge bash of my own. However the wild and fun night that was supposed to kick off summer didn’t go as planned. Needless to say, it went the opposite. But I’ll start from the beginning. The first people to come to the party were senior girls by the names of Alexandra, Marie-Claire, and Ella. They were the prettiest and richest girls in our school. And all three of those bit**es were going to Ivy League colleges in the fall. They were our good friends at the time, but it seemed to me that Marisa considered them more of idols than friends. “Well girls, you did well,” Marie-Claire, the queen bee and valedictorian of her grade said. “It almost looks like a party. Just one thing missing.” “What?” Chloe asked. She had finally emerged from the bathroom ten minutes earlier, and put on a long halter-top sundress. A shapeless halter-top sundress. She always wore baggy clothes, to hide her “fat body,” she told us. “What is it missing, besides people?” Alexandra snickered. “Cool your jets Al, it’s only eight o’clock,” Marie-Claire glared at her snooty friend. It was a well deserved glare, I decided. “It’s a proven fact that real parties don’t start until at least nine o’clock,” Marisa said as she looked down at the ground. Seeing Marisa intimidated by another girl instead of doing the intimidating was a sight to see. “Who proved that fact?” Ella asked sarcastically. She then laughed, so as to lighten the mood, probably. Or she laughed at the ignorance of Marisa’s last statement. “Einstein did, right Marisa?” I said. “Hey guys it’s not funny! I’m just going by past experiences.” “And we’re just giving you s**t. No hard feelings,” Marie-Claire laughed frivolously. Just then the doorbell rang, and a few friends walked through the door holding a bottle of orange flavored vodka. It seemed like in just thirty minutes after that, the party crowd went from a controllable ten people to over a hundred. A completely uncontrollable amount. Remain calm, I kept telling myself. Just have fun, everything will be totally fine. And in the midst of the party, I saw him. Him being Charlie Baldwin. We were both alone in the kitchen. I was getting more California rolls for the sushi platter outside and he was just taking a break from the crazy crowd. We eventually made eye contact after an awkward silence, but I quickly looked away. “Hey Bianca, are you having fun?” he asked nonchalantly. “Yes, of course, I’m having a great time. Are you?” “I’ve never been better,” he said and took a long pause. He stepped closer to me. “But you know what I realized?” “What?” “We never really talk,” he began. “I walk with you and Marisa to Math class every day, but she’s always the one doing the talking. I want to hear more from you.” “You do? I thought she was the reason you walked with us,” I said, my voice sounding clearly shocked. “Maybe I went too far with that, I’m sorry. Maybe it’s too soon. A proper introduction is obviously necessary,” he said and got down onto his knees. He grabbed my hand and kissed it as lightly as possible, so light that it sent shivers down my spine. “I’m Charlie Baldwin.” “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said, and curtsied. “I’m Mademoiselle Harold. Bianca Harold.” I had known Charlie since third grade, but never had an actual conversation with him. It was so unexpected. He stood up so that his face was right in front of mine. I couldn’t smell alcohol on his breath, which disproved my notion that he was completely drunk when he said those things. “I’ll find you later. To, you know, talk,” he said, and walked away. My face completely flushed when I remembered that Marisa mentioned earlier how much she liked Charlie. But what she didn’t know couldn’t possibly hurt her.

On Halloween of ninth grade, almost a year before Marisa and I became friends, she did something that would make me never trust her for years to come. There was a huge Halloween dance at my school, and I reluctantly attended after Alison and Julia spent many weeks begging me to go. I was still hung up about August, and they told me that I needed to do something to forget about him. So I dressed up as a witch (how original!), Julia a bumblebee, and Alison a wizard. The gym was festively decorated with orange and black streamers, plastic pumpkin head decorations, and a punch bowl with an orange liquid inside. Then I saw, much to my dismay, a group of college kids who were standing in a clump near the DJ station amongst all of the other kids. They must have snuck in, I thought, since they were on their fall vacation. August stood out from all of them, his short brown hair, green eyes, and bold facial features like no one else. “You told me this would be my opportunity to forget about him!” I whispered to my friends. “How were we supposed to know he would be here?” Alison said back. “It’s kind of unusual.” “Let’s just go dance and have fun. What’s the worst that can happen?” Julia said, and pulled us toward the dance floor. We danced for a bit, and then I made my way over to the orange punch bowl to get a drink. That’s when I saw it. Marisa Carlton, followed by Chloe, Marie-Claire, Alexandra, and Ella, approached August and his other college friends. They spent a few moments talking, and soon enough, Marisa grabbed August’s arm and they began to dance really dirty. After a song or two they seemed to grow bored with just dancing, and August spun her around and they kissed passionately. August’s hands fell lower and lower down her waist and after minutes she playfully pushed him away. She whispered something into his ear, and they made their way out of the room hand in hand. Marisa never did find out about August and I, what we were back in the summer before that Halloween. And she never would. For both of our sakes, she would never find out the truth about anything. Not from Bianca Harold, anyways. * * * It was ten o’clock sharp, and just like Marisa had told me to, I sat in my basement waiting for her. Alone. In about five minutes, I heard her come stomping down the stairs and she plopped down in front of me. I asked her if she was okay. She said she was just a little drunk and high, that was all, but it’s not like I would know. Chloe was right behind her, but not nearly as intoxicated. “Mar, do you want to go upstairs to my room and take a rest?” I asked her. “You won’t be missing much,” I smoothed down her wet and crazy hair, and she put her head down onto my lap. “She’s fine Bianca! What are you, her mom?” Chloe asked me and suddenly pulled Marisa up into a sitting position. I then saw that Marisa was holding something in a tightly clenched fist. Three small, white, pills. “What is that?” “Don’t worry about it. You’re too good for it, remember?” She snickered. “But trust me, it will make tonight better. Tonight is going to get good.” Ecstasy. She handed one of the three pills to Chloe, and they both looked at each other and smiled mischievously. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Bianca,” whispered Marisa. “This is going to be the best night of my life!” And she tossed the remaining two pills into her mouth. “Okay, you know what? You’re right, I shouldn’t worry about you,” I began. “But don’t come crying to me when you get hurt or something. That’s not a good idea; you’re being so dumb Mar.” “Don’t tell me what to do, you little prude,” Marisa said through slurred speech. “Did you forget that I made you? I made you Bianca. Now get out of my way, I’m going for a walk.” I thought back to the time when she and I became best friends. The time when she told me all of her secrets and cried on my arm while we stood in that marble-tiled bathroom. I turned away from Marisa and Chloe and ran back up the stairs. There were two entrances to the basement, one that led through the house and another that led in from the side yard (I went through the door that led outside and walked around to the backyard). I looked around to see the extent of the party. It looked like a scene from one of those 1970’s hippie shows, like That’s 70’s Show. There was a veil of smoke hanging over the pool. I wasn’t sure if that was from all of the pot that was being smoked by everyone, or whether it was just steam from the water as it hit the cool night air. I mean, Marisa did crank up the heat to ninety degrees before the party started. There had to be at least sixty kids in the water, some with drinks in hand, others basically completely naked and making out with each other. A few of the guys were doing dangerous flips and dives to impress the girls. As I observed my classmates, I began to get nervous, thinking of all of the things that could go wrong tonight. Just relax Bianca, I said to myself. It’s a party, it’s supposed to be fun. This was the kind of party I wanted for years. It meant I was finally popular, right? Even though I had never even talked to half the kids there, I knew they were having a good time, and it was all thanks to me. These were the cool kids, not the nerds like Corey from the school’s book club. My thoughts were interrupted by someone grabbing me tightly around the waist. It was Dane Meir, Marisa’s old boyfriend. “Damn girl, you look sexy. You don’t look like you’re having too much fun, I’ll change that for you,” his speech was slurred as he spun me around and stuck his tongue down my throat. I could taste alcohol, and I quickly pushed him away from me. In doing so, I lost my footing on the concrete edge of the pool, and fell backwards into the hot water. When I emerged from the water, I saw Dane look around to make sure that no one had seen that episode, and then walk away. I crawled out of the water and ran, dripping, up the steps of the deck and up the stairs into the family room, which was the room connecting to my bedroom. I slammed the door behind me, and I saw Charlie sitting in one of the black leather chairs. Alone. “It took you a while to find me.” “Yeah, I was just dealing with some friend drama. You know, the usual Marisa. And then I fell into the pool, and now I should go change.” “Marisa is like that,” he said and rose from his chair. “That’s why I like you better; you’re much more down to earth. I brought this up for you. Drink it after you dry off.” Charlie tried to hand me a glass of champagne, but I refused and sat down onto the couch. I shivered as I imagined Marisa taking the ecstasy pill, washing it down with a gulp of martini. “Are you cold?” Charlie asked. He sat down next to me and put his arm around my back, pulling me closer, obviously ignoring the water still covering my body. Just then, I remembered my conversation with Marisa last night. “I’m inviting Charlie obviously. Something is bound to happen between me and him, right? I mean, we’ve been flirting for nearly a month.” He turned his body so that he was facing me. He pushed a blonde lock behind my ear and leaned in so that our noses were touching. “You know that I’ve wanted to do this for a while, right? I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately Bianca.” The image of Marisa leading August out of the Halloween dance flashed through my mind. Marisa and August kissing in front of the whole school. The only boy I ever loved. I leaned forward and forcefully kissed Charlie. I could feel him smiling under my lips, and he pulled me closer to him. After a while, (and by while I mean about thirty fervent minutes) he sat up straight and looked into my eyes. And we stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. “You’re perfect,” he whispered into my ear. “And I want you.” He leaned in again, and at that moment I heard a vibration from the table next to the couch. It was my phone. “Excuse me,” I said. That totally ruined the moment, I thought to myself. It was a text from Chloe. “Who is it?” Charlie asked. He leaned over my shoulder so as to get a better view of my phone. “It can wait,” I rolled my eyes at my phone, and sat back down in his lap and proceeded to lightly kiss his cheek. “It might be important baby. Here,” he laughed, and grabbed the phone from me. Before I could grab it back, he was already reading Chloe’s message. His face went completely serious. “What?” The text read: ‘Com dwnstiars.’ I groaned, got up, and fixed my bikini top, which was pretty dry by then. “Stay here,” I told him, and I went down the stairs and out to the backyard. Chloe was standing at the sliding glass door with tears in her eyes. “What? What’s wrong?” “It’s Marisa, he took her downstairs through the side entrance,” Chloe said through tears. “Who did? What are you talking about?” “Some guy. And I don’t know what he’s doing with her.” Before she could say anything else, I darted down the stairs to the basement and looked into Marisa’s, Chloe’s, and my special meeting room. I nearly fainted at the sight before me.

It was a few days after last Thanksgiving, and Marisa, Chloe, and I were sitting in my basement on the couch. “It’s already three, and we haven’t even made plans for tonight,” Chloe sighed. “I mean, it’s basically the last night of vacation.” Before I could say anything back to Chloe, Marisa had her cell phone out and her fingers were moving swiftly and purposefully over the keys. “What’re you doing?” I laughed. “Who are you texting so suddenly?” “Why don’t we invite a few people over tonight, Bianca? It’s not like your parents would care that much. It would only be a few friends,” she offered. “No,” I said without thinking. “Looks like Marisa already sent the invite, sorry girl,” Chloe said with a giggle as she looked over Marisa’s shoulder. “But before anyone comes, I have this for us,” Marisa said confidently. I then saw that Marisa was holding something in a tightly clenched fist. Three small, white, pills. “What is that?” I asked. “Ecstasy. But before you say anything and disagree with the idea, just trust me, it’s really fun,” she said back, and handed us each a pill. “You’ve done this before? What does it do?” I was taken aback by the small pill that I held in my palm. It was so tiny… how could it possibly have any effect? “It alters your mind, you know. Makes you happy no matter what’s going on. It’s better than any drug I’ve ever tried,” Marisa told me, and washed the pill down with a swig of water from the bottle she was holding. “Here goes nothing,” Chloe agreed as she followed Marisa’s lead. I put the pill back into Marisa’s hand. “No thanks. I’m good.” * * * At half past eleven, Chloe, Charlie, Marie-Claire, and I were standing in my driveway as the ambulance pulled down the street. We were all completely silent, none of us talking to one another. Chloe made everyone leave before the ambulance arrived, just in case the cops showed up. The totally trashed house was vacant except for the four of us. Empty beer cans, champagne and vodka bottles littered the floor, as well as marijuana hash, plates of half eaten food, and numerous towels that were used after swimming. We put all of the empty bottles and cans into my room before Marisa’s ambulance came. I finally broke the silence. “Chloe, tell me exactly what happened.” “I don’t know, Bianca,” she answered, her voice shaking. “I was looking out the window, and I just saw the two of them go downstairs at the side entrance of your basement and the door shut behind them. I didn’t recognize the guy, and there were too many cars there for me to know which one was his. And that’s why I eventually texted you. I was terrified. I am terrified.” “And you didn’t even see what he looked like? What color hair? What he was wearing? Anything?” Marie-Claire asked calmly. Chloe began to cry again, and she fell to her knees on the hard pavement. “We need to go to the hospital and see her. See if she’s okay,” I decided, without putting much thought into it. “Listen, Bianca. We need to give this some thought before we decide was to do. When the police find out that what happened to Marisa happened at your house, you’ll get in trouble,” Charlie told me. “Then what do I do? Let my best friend stay in the hospital, alone? I bet they already know that it happened at my house. I have nothing to lose,” I said, and shook myself free from where he gripped my shoulder. “You have everything to lose, you dumb bi**h. We have everything to lose I should say,” Marie-Claire snapped at me. “Then what do you say we do, huh? Lie about her being here when it happened? Lie about it happening here?” I snapped back at her. “I didn’t want to say it, but Bianca; it’s not just us that have something to lose. It’s also your parents, and they have everything to lose,” Marie-Claire stepped towards me so that we were only a few inches away. “Do you really want your mom and dad to go to court for something they didn’t even know about? It’s called contributing to a minor. There were drugs and alcohol at your party, and whatever happened to Marisa happened because of that. That’s just not fair for your parents to have to take the blame. They could get sued and lose everything. Or worse, they could go to jail.” I looked from person to person, and each of their facial expressions was different. Marie-Claire’s face was twisted in anger, Chloe’s face was puffy from crying so much, and Charlie’s face looked as though he was in utter dread of the situation. I took a step back from Marie-Claire and sat onto the pavement next to Chloe. “Fine. What do you think I should do?” Marie-Claire crouched down so that she could more easily talk to Chloe. “You were the only one who saw Marisa go down into the basement with this mystery guy, right?” “Yes, I was. Everyone else was outside. I was taking a bathroom break, and when I came out I saw him lead her alone into the basement. They were making out. And I didn’t see anyone else go into the basement. I already said that.” “Okay, Chloe, that’s great. I have a plan,” she began. “But it’s going to require immediate action, and a little white lie. Charlie, go start your car.” “Where are we going?” “To the hospital,” Marie-Claire said and grinned evilly. And by evilly, I don’t mean the kind of ‘evil’ grin that a teenage girl gets when she sees her frenemy get dumped by a boy. It was something far darker than that. * * * It was past midnight by the time the four of us arrived at the hospital. We checked in at the reception desk, and a nurse went into Marisa’s room to ask if a few visitors were allowed to see her. After about five minutes of anxious waiting, the nurse motioned to us from the door to enter. Marisa looked absolutely terrible. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, and dark circles had formed under her bloodshot eyes. She had been crying, and black mascara covered her cheeks. She looked up when we entered, completely dumb-founded so it seemed. I had never seen her more out of it. I walked over to Marisa, the others behind me, and she pulled me closer by my upper arm. “What happened tonight?” I looked back at Marie-Claire and she subtly nodded at me. “What happened to me, Bianca?” My mind flashed back to the Halloween dance in ninth grade. After a song or two they seemed to grow bored with just dancing, and August spun her around and they kissed passionately. “Did you not hear me? I asked what the hell happened to me?” August’s hands fell lower and lower down her waist and after a few moments she playfully pushed him away. She whispered something into his ear, and they made their way out of the room hand in hand. “I don’t know Mar. We searched the whole house for you, and you just weren’t there. And as we were searching the front yard, we saw a car pull into the driveway, and some guy get out. He carried you past us into the house and dropped you on the floor. You had already passed out, and he left before any of us could stop him. It’s going to be okay.” Marisa began to cry again. She ripped back the baby blue hospital sheets and showed us her arms. They were completely bruised, purple and blue in color, and some parts of her skin has scratches on it. “What happened to me,” she screamed through sobs. “Why am I such a mess?” “Marisa, some dirtbag raped you, and then dropped you into the bushes on his way from the car to the house. You know all of the rose bushes right by the driveway? That’s how you got all scratched up,” Charlie blurted out without thinking. “Don’t you remember any of it, Marisa? For God’s sake, you were raped!” Marisa stopped sobbing for a second. She looked at each of us individually, as if expecting someone to smile and say ‘just kidding.’ But then she realized that it was no joke. Marisa said spitefully, “Why are you here, Charlie Baldwin?” and then fell back hard onto the bed. “How could this have happened without me knowing it? I don’t understand.” “He gave you drugs, Mar. Rufies. He got you drunk and gave you drugs before he took you away. You’re the victim here, you did nothing wrong,” Marie-Claire said as she wiped some of the makeup off of Marisa’s cheek with her thumb. “They’re going to find some evidence, and the investigators are going to find out who did this to you.” “You guys should get home,” Marisa said, without taking her eyes away from Marie-Claire’s. “My mom is on her way here. I have to tell her the whole story.” “Just remember, there was NO party tonight. Got it Marisa? Just a few of us girls having a friendly get-together.” Marie-Claire dropped Marisa’s gaze, and, followed by Chloe and Charlie, left the room. I began to follow them when Marisa stopped me. “Bianca,” Marisa said in a soft voice. “I’m scared. I can’t believe such a horrible thing happened to me.” After those words barely came out of her mouth, she thought long and hard about something. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone it was a party, especially not my mom. I can’t have you get in trouble, I need you too much. You’re the only true friend I have.” “It’s going to be okay,” I assured her. “The investigators are going to find out who did this to you. And when they do, this will all be in your past. Our past. We’re in this together Mar.” “Thanks, Bianca. I always knew you’d be there for me. I love you.” * * * “How could I have let you talk me into lying to my best friend? I’ve never outright lied to anyone before,” I growled at Marie-Claire once we got outside. Chloe and Charlie were already in the car, and she and I were standing just outside the passenger side door. “What are you saying? You owe me, Bianca. Not only did I save your ass with that story, but I also made Ella and Alexandra go to your house after we left for the hospital and clean the whole place. So that there was not a trace of drugs. No drugs, no alcohol,” she said. Then she got close to me, like she always did. So close to me that our noses were only an inch away. “Now tomorrow, you’re going to be called to the police station. Remember. There was no party, Bianca. You were just hanging at home with your best girl friends, watching movies and doing pedicures. Then Marisa Carlton, one of the girls at the party, left abruptly. She told us not to worry, and that she’d be fine. An hour later, some guy brought Marisa into your house and dropped her on the floor. End of story. Everyone has to tell a little white lie at least once in their lives.” “I can’t deny that there was a party. They’re going to call other girls to the station to be questioned. Other girls who could have been at our so called girl get together.” “I’m the alpha female at Brookmore Prep. Every loser at the school does whatever I say, right? Plus, I’m a billionaire, Bianca. I can pay those bi***es off. See now? You win. I win. We win. Then this will all be forgotten. It’s our little white lie. But if you tell, then the whole world will know that there was underage drinking at your house while your parents were away. And doesn’t that mess up your future? I know that would mess up my future. I’m going to Stanford in the fall, and nothing’s going to get in the way of that.” And there it was again, that evil grin of hers. “You’re right,” I held out my hand to shake hers. “It’s our little secret.”

Last Christmas morning, my family went down to my Grandma’s house for brunch. Of course, that was after all the presents had been opened at our house, and the pure chaos of unwrapping was over and done with. My little brother and I received everything we asked for, and everyone was happy. Christmas had always been my favorite holiday. Every Christmas eve, I would lie in bed, constantly looking at the clock, unable to sleep. Being in my bed the night before Christmas was always such a safe and secure feeling, knowing that my parents were right downstairs, putting gifts under the tree. When we walked through the door at my grandparents’ huge estate, they greeted us with a kiss on each cheek. The scent of ham, vegetables, and cinnamon rolls wafted through the room. A nice, warm feeling. “Come, sit,” my grandfather said with a smile. “We have gifts for everyone.” We were led into the huge living room by my grandma. A fire was burning in the stone fireplace, and all of the white lights shone brightly on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. She held out a rectangular package to my brother, David, and a small, red velvet box to me. David tore off the silver wrapping paper and opened his box. Inside was a brand new baseball glove, with a personalized autograph from his favorite Boston Red Sox player. “Thank you so much, Grandma and Grandfather!” he said, and hugged them. Then, my grandma walked over to me and whispered in my ear that the gift in the box was very special. That her grandmother had given it to her for her 15th Christmas. I opened the red velvet box slowly, and inside sat a sparkling ring. The ring was gold, and had a stunning emerald stone on the band. It was absolutely beautiful. “Thank you so much Grandma,” I said. “You really trust me with such a beautiful heirloom?” “Why wouldn’t I trust you, Bianca? How could anyone not trust you? You’re the sweetest, most honest girl in the world. You deserve it. You deserve the best of everything,” she said, and kissed my cheek. I smiled up at her, and grabbed her hand. “I love you, Grandma.” “Just make sure you don’t lose it, now.” “I won’t let it out of my sight.” * * * The next morning, I woke up in Charlie’s arms at a little after eight. I sat up in bed and looked at the clock. “S**t, my parents are going to be home in a few hours,” I said, and started to get up. “Are you making breakfast this morning, Bianca?” He laughed, and pulled me back down so that I had my head on his chest. “What’s so funny about that? You think I can’t cook?” I laughed back, and hit him with my pillow. For a moment I had forgotten Marisa and how horrible everything ended up last night. “You’re going to regret doing that,” he told me, and took the pillow from my hand. He pushed me backwards and leaned over so he was looking into my eyes. “Are you going to hit me back?” I joked, and tried to push him off of me. “No. Bianca,” he started to say something, but seemed to have lost his voice. After a few seconds, he regained it. “What you did at the hospital. It was for the better. Marisa doesn’t remember anything anyways. She’ll never know.” “Ah, why are we talking about this right now?” I groaned and sat up. “I don’t want to hear about it again until I have to. Especially not from you. Now let’s go downstairs, you’re going to love my triple-cheese omlette.” “Wait, before we go. I have a question. It’s a question that you can have as long as you want to think about.” “What is it, Charlie?” “Will you be my girlfriend?” I gasped, and I guess that caught him off guard because he then pushed me away from him. “I guess it’s too soon. I’ll talk to you later,” Charlie said, and began to grab his clothes from my floor. “No. I mean, yes. The answer is yes,” I said. He smiled at me, and kissed me. I suddenly thought of Marisa, and how much she liked him. But, after everything that happened to her, did she still care about him as much? Would she ever like any guy again? “But let’s keep it on the down low, at least until this whole Marisa ordeal blows over. Then it can just be you and I. Nothing will get in the way of that.” * * * After Charlie went home, I realized that I had to do something to get my mind off of Marisa before my family got home. Everything in my life was just spiraling out of control, and I didn’t like that feeling at all. If we didn’t have that stupid party, none of this would be happening. If I never started having parties in the first place, I mean. I thought back to school year, and how much had changed in my life. I still got straight A’s all year, of course, but everything was so different. And this was the consequence of the ‘new and improved’ Bianca. Maybe being popular wasn’t going to make my life perfect like I imagined it would. I decided to take my golden retriever, Isabelle, for a walk down my street. As we walked I was completely zoned out, just thinking everything through, until she began to bark and growl at the white mansion toward the end of my street. It was the house of my neighbor, Mr. Tawney. He was standing on his porch, with nothing but baby blue striped boxers and a wife beater on. That was his usual attire, minus the blue bandana with the Budweiser pin on it that he always wore. He had some kind of beer in his hand, as usual. “Isabelle, stop barking at him! I’m so sorry, Mr. Tawney,” I said, as Isabelle pulled me towards him. The closer she got to him, the more the fur on her neck stood up, and she growled even louder from the back of her throat. “She’s not usually like this, as you know, sir.” “It’s totally fine, I love your dog,” he said back, and put his beer on the railing of his porch. “How’s your family doing anyways, Bianca? I drove by last night on my way to the supermarket and saw that there were a lot of cars in the driveway.” I hated to admit it at the time, but Mr. Tawney was extremely attractive for a forty year old man. He may have been tremendously creepy, always standing on his porch and talking to my friends and me whenever we would walk by, but something about him attracted me. “Oh yeah, just a small house party. But hey, we should get going. I’ll talk to you later, once again, I’m sorry about Isabelle,” I said, and pulled her away with me. “See you soon!” he called back, and then said something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out. I remembered the last time that I had talked to Mr. Tawney. It was a week ago, and Chloe, Marisa, and I were taking a walk down the street to meet some friends for coffee at the nearby café. When we approached Mr. Tawney’s house, he was standing on the porch, as usual, drinking his Bahamian imported beer. He had on nothing but a wife beater and pink boxers, and that blue bandana with the Budweiser pin on it was wrapped tightly around his head. “Why is he so attractive?” Marisa guiltily whispered to us. “Ew, don’t say that. He’s so grubby looking!” Chloe said. Marisa grabbed the gold locket around her neck. She looked at the ground and asked why we didn’t think he was attractive, because clearly he was. Chloe rolled her eyes and laughed, and as we passed by the house, Mr. Tawney looked up from his beer and smiled at us. He walked down the steps. “Hey, Marisa, Bianca, and friend. Where are you off to?” “Just to get some coffee, you know, fuel up for some studying. Finals begin tomorrow,” Marisa said, and blushed. “Yeah, so we better get going,” Chloe said, and glared at him. She turned around and walked away, with me following close behind. I turned around and saw Mr. Tawney say something to Marisa, and she smiled. Her cheeks were bright pink, and she hurried to catch up with us. “What was that all about,” I asked. “Oh, nothing. You’re right, Chloe, he is gross.”

I was lying in my bed when I heard the door downstairs slam shut. My family was home. I had been thinking all morning about the easiest way to tell them about last night. I finally understood that there was no easy way to do it. I would have to lie to my parents, one thing that I never thought I would have to do. I went downstairs, and told them that I had to talk to them. Alone. David was sent up to his room to unpack, and my parents and I sat down on the couch to discuss things. “There’s no easy way to say this,” I began. “Without you guys freaking out at me, I mean.” “What are you talking about, Bianca?” my dad asked. “Last night, I had a few girls over for movie night. And things just went very wrong.” “Please, go on,” he said. “You’re making me nervous.” I swallowed hard, and continued. “Marisa told us she had to go out for some fresh air; you know how her asthma acts up when she pets Isabelle. And anyways, she didn’t come back for a long time so we searched the whole yard and then the house for her, and even tried calling her, but she wouldn’t pick up. Then, an hour later, some guy dropped her off and ran.” “And you didn’t see who the guy was?” my mom said, and tears welled up in her blue eyes. “He was all in black, with a ski mask on. And Marisa was passed out. So we called an ambulance, and she’s now at the hospital,” I started to cry also. “This is all my fault, mom.” “No, it’s not honey. It’s not your fault at all. But a ski mask? It’s the middle of June! This is very strange. Maybe it was just one of those boys from school playing a prank – trying to scare you girls. Don’t worry, sweetie.” “No, you don’t understand, it’s serious. Marisa is in the hospital. She was -” Just then, the phone rang. It was the police station, and they said that they wanted me to come in and answer a few questions about the rape of Marisa Carlton. And they said that tomorrow, my parents would be questioned. My mom put her head in her hands and cried even harder. My dad rubbed her back and told me to get in the car. The car ride to the police station was one without any talking. I sat in my dad’s red BMW and thought about who else would be at the station, and what would happen to us. To say the least, I was completely terrified. I lied to my best friend, my parents, and now I would have to lie to the law. * * * In the dimly lit room sat Marie-Claire, Chloe, and, much to my surprise, Charlie. Before the investigator came in, I went over to Charlie. “What are you doing?” I said through clenched teeth. “Why are you here, Charlie? The police are supposed think that last night was a girls only party.” “Do you think I chose to be here? Marisa told the investigators about last night, about how the four of us came to the hospital to see her. They f*ing know I was there.” The investigator cleared her throat and we turned around to face her. “My name is Lisa Burton,” she introduced herself. “I’m going to need to ask you two to take a seat.” I looked back at Charlie, he was as white as a ghost and he looked like he was going to cry. We each took a seat, like Lisa had asked us to do. “So,” Lisa cleared her throat. “Bianca Harold. Where were you the night of June 15th, 2011?” I explained to her about the girls only night, about how Marisa disappeared with some unrecognizable guy. When she returned, she was passed out and the guy dropped her and left. Lisa nodded and turned to Charlie. “Now this is what makes me a little suspicious. Charlie Baldwin, why were you at this so-called ‘girls only’ night?” Charlie began to say something, but Marie-Claire cut in. “Charlie is kind of like a girl to us. He’s one of our closest friends, and he’s amazing at pedicures. So maybe it wasn’t a girls only party, but it was pretty damn close. You have to understand, Ms. Burton, I’m attending Stanford in two months and -” “Is this true, Charlie?” Lisa asked. “Yes, yes it is true,” he said with a half smile, trying to sound as girlie as possible. “I give the best pedicures. I’ll probably go to cosmetology when I graduate.” Lisa cleared her throat again and stood up. “Charlie, I want to believe this, but I’ve dealt with many rape cases.” “What are you saying?” he shakily asked. “Charlie Baldwin, you’re the prime suspect for the rape of Marisa Carlton.”

“How is this happening to me? This can’t be f*ing happening to me. I don’t understand. This is ridiculous,” Charlie stammered through tears. We were sitting in my basement after the investigation. There were still bloodstains on the white carpeting from the scrapes on Marisa’s arms. He was lying on his stomach on the couch, and I was rubbing his back, trying to calm him down. “Nothing will happen, Charlie. You’re only a suspect. They’re going to find out who did it, I promise,” I said. He kissed me, and I fell backwards. I landed on a pillow, and I moved it aside. Something was under it. “Wait,” I said, and pushed him off of me. A blue bandana with a Budweiser pin stuck onto it sat, crumpled, on the couch. “What the…” “Whose is that?” he said, and picked it up. There was a gold necklace wrapped up in it. Marisa’s gold locket. “I’ve seen this bandana before,” I gasped. “Mr. Tawney.” “What?” Charlie asked. I told him I had to go, and to be there when I got back. I hastily grabbed the bandana and locket and ran as fast as I could down the street. Naturally, Mr. Tawney was outside. He was sitting on the porch steps smoking a cigarette. When he realized that I was standing in front of him, he looked up and smiled. “I found your bandana. With this wrapped up in it,” I impetuously pulled the locket out from where it was bundled and dangled it in front of his face. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, you sick, sick creature.” “Why don’t you come inside, dear? Have a cold beer. You look nervous.” I nodded, and he followed me inside and closed the door behind him. He motioned for me to have a seat on the black leather couch, and he took a seat next to me. “Here’s a beer,” he said, and tossed me a Budweiser. “No thanks, I don’t drink. And anyways, I would rather get down to business,” I said shakily, trying not to burst out in tears. I cleared my throat. “I know you raped Marisa Carlton.” He laughed as though I just told the funniest joke in the world. “You’re right, I did rape Marisa,” he said and leaned forward. “I also slipped a rufie into her drink, right? That’s a good one Bianca.” He paused and thought of what witty thing to say next. “Now what the hell are you saying? Look Bianca, I know all you little ladies are in love with me. And your friend Marisa is a real cutie, I’ll admit that. She’s always all flirty and s**t. But come on, rape? Now go on home before I… Before I rape you too!” he laughed in my face again, his disgusting beer breath filling my nostrils. “Like anyone’s going to believe that.” He laughed again, less convincingly than the last time, though. I rose from the couch and turned to leave. “I’m telling the police. My boyfriend is the prime suspect for a crime that you committed. He has a future, he’s going to Oxford in England next fall.” “Whoa there, hold on a second. There had to have been fifty boys at your house during that party. If anything happened to your friend, there are plenty of suspects. The cops are sure as hell not going to be looking at the rich old man down your street! Now get out of here, you little liar. And anyways, you know you’re not going to tell the police.” “Why wouldn’t I tell the police, you dirtbag?” “If you say anything to anyone about me, then I’ll just have to tell your beautiful mom and pops about your little party. Then I’d have to tell the police (to protect my own innocence) that you had a bunch of underage boys drinking and probably doing tons of drugs at your home! Then your poor folks would have to go to jail. Now let me have my bandana, my head is getting cold. You know, I think I dropped it at your house the last time I came to feed your mutt.” After a while I processed what he said, and I shook my head and promised him that I wouldn’t tell a soul that Marisa had even ever spoken to him. He grinned at me. I turned around, still holding the bandana with the Budweiser pin pinned to it and ran all the way home. Once I got there, I saw that Charlie’s car was still in the driveway. I went through the front door and closed it carefully and soundlessly behind. I tiptoed my way up to my room and opened the closet door. I pulled down my secret shoebox and brought it over to my bed to open it. I rolled up the locket in the bandana and put it next to the ring. “What are you doing?” I screamed with shock and yelled at Charlie for surprising me like that. I told him that I was just making sure my ring was still in there, and I apologized for leaving so suddenly before. “Where did you go? And who is this ‘Mr. Tawney’ guy? Huh?” “He’s, uh… He’s my neighbor, I was thinking that he might have seen what the guy looked like who snuck into my house,” I lied. I then leaned forward and kissed him lightly. “You should go; my parents will be home from the station soon.” He nodded and said goodbye, and that he would check on me tomorrow morning. Once he was safely out of the house, I slid the box back into the top shelf of my closet and fell backwards onto my bed. I felt uncontainable tears well up in my eyes, and once again, I thought of how my life was becoming a total mess. As if the first lie wasn’t bad enough, now I thought I knew who my best friend’s rapist was but I couldn’t tell anyone. Why bother telling anyone anyways? No one would believe me over Mr. Tawny, he was obviously a pro-liar. Unlike Marie-Claire said initially, this was more than a little white lie. All I could do was sit back and watch Charlie Baldwin’s future at Oxford be ruined. There were no other suspects, after all. And if I told anyone that Charlie was alone with me the night of the crime, Marisa would know that I hooked up with him, and she would hate me. And then everyone else would hate me for betraying Marisa. Such a mess. I looked up at the box on the top shelf of my closet. When I first got my secret box, I put all of the private love notes August sent me into it so as to hide them from my family and friends. When he left me, I couldn’t look at the box without cringing, as it made me think of him and what he did to me. Now the box held so much more than just old love notes. It held a piece of evidence that could convict a possibly guilty man of rape, and save the future of my boyfriend. It also held the trust that my family bestowed on me last Christmas in the form of a ten thousand dollar ring. Both those things were basically meaningless now. The ring was meaningless because I lost the trust of my family by lying to them. The bandana was meaningless because no one could ever know about it except for me.