Second Bestie (Redbend High Book 1) Read online

  I kicked off my dirty sneakers and jogged upstairs, Boo at my heels. Chills raced my spine as I shut the bathroom door and retrieved the doll. Undeniably me, every detail accounted for, except the eyes.

  I swallowed a hiccup. The doll slipped to the tile and Boo sniffed it. I scooped it into my palm, lowered its homemade jeans—made in the USA was stamped on its scrawny buttocks. American. Just like me.

  On its dirt-smudged face, I saw the faint outline of eyes. Holding it to the light, I made out brush strokes. I grabbed the fingernail polish remover and a cotton ball then rubbed the doll’s face. Flesh-tinted nail polish stained the cotton. The doll stared through light-brown eyes.

  * * *

  I kissed the top of Boo’s head and stepped from the bedroom. The doll, mummified in toilet paper, rested in my overnight bag. Stopping short, I stepped back over the threshold, grabbed my cross necklace and latched it under my hair. The aroma of Mom’s special oatmeal raisin cookies met me on the stairs.

  “Leaving!”

  “Wait a sec.” In jogged Mom, hair dripping black dye, a quart-sized baggie filled with cookies between her elbows. “Tuck these into your bag for a snack.”

  I crammed the small sack into the outside pocket of my bag, and she opened her arms for a hug. “You smell bad.” I held my nose.

  “Just a peck.” Mom made fish lips.

  I kissed her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

  I transferred the bag from right to left shoulder, dug my cell from my pocket, and texted Lenni.

  Coming now.

  K. Hurry!

  A gorgeous day, I inhaled the fresh air. A big, greenish-brown grasshopper, making a terrible clicking noise, flew across my path, landing on the side of the road. I jogged away, my skin crawling, and then gulped a few deep breaths to calm down.

  What surprise did Lenni have waiting for me this time? She loved surprises as much as I did. In our three-month friendship, she’d surprised me with strawberry-scented lip gloss, a matching journal and pen set, a box of Jelly Belly beans, and the gold cross necklace. I touched the pendant as I walked. Of all the surprises, I liked the cross best.

  I stood on Lenni’s sidewalk and gazed up at her enormous house. The place equaled an Oklahoma mansion, though the Flemmings would never admit it.

  Mrs. Flemming answered the door. “Hi, Molly, come right in.” She jolted me with a hug. “Lenneeeee!” she called loudly, glancing at the chandelier.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Flemming. I’ll find her.”

  “Call me Pam. I tell you that every time I see you.” She pinched my cheek and shook her pretty, blonde head. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Lenni said she’d had some work done last winter, a Christmas present from Mr. Flemming. “I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” She swatted my bottom as I passed.

  I lugged my duffel bag up the staircase, past the Flemmings’ photograph collection—an assortment of frames, different shapes and sizes, all of them black. The pictures were bright and exciting, crashing blue waves threatening sandcastles, lacey-white snowflakes melting on tongues, babbling brooks tickling tiny toes. Not one person just sat in a chair, or simply stood smiling. The photos lived, straining to breathe under glass.

  Lenni swung her door open. I jumped, lost in another family’s memories. “Took you long enough.” She wore a pink tank top and khaki shorts, her hair somehow magazine-fresh in a messy ponytail. She smiled, and then blew a pink bubble. “Glad you finally made it. Your surprise is here.” She took my bag from me, pulled me into her room and shut the door. “Surprise!” she shrieked, ringing my ears.

  My lips went cold. My stomach threatened to hurl the pancakes I’d eaten for breakfast onto Lenni’s fluffy pink carpeting. Bianca perched on Lenni’s purple bedspread, green eyes on me, her gaze curious like a cat’s.

  “Molly.” She sat tall, rolling her shoulders back, red hair brushing the waist of her leather skirt.

  Hic!

  A telephone rang downstairs. I wished it was Mom, changing her mind, ordering me home to complete some undone chore.

  “Are you surprised?” Lenni asked, tossing my bag to the floor. “It’s time for you and Bianca to get to know each other and become best friends too. Then we’ll each have two best friends! Whoa, that’s deep.” She rubbed her forehead.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, Len.” Bianca smirked.

  She called her Len.

  Hic! I grabbed my chest.

  “I think you need a good scare,” Bianca muttered, edging from the bed.

  “Oh, Bianca, that doesn’t work on her,” Lenni explained. “Molly actually gets the hiccups when she’s scared—she’s frightened into them.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I have to go,” I said. An enormous hiccup followed my announcement. I ran from Lenni’s room and flew down the staircase, nearly colliding with Mrs. Flemming.

  “Molly, what’s your hurry?” she asked, catching me by the forearms.

  “I don’t feel well, Mrs. Flemming-I mean, Pam.” I pushed against her grasp. “I’m going home.”

  “Molly, you can’t go home. Your mother called. Your father surprised her with an overnight trip to Evandale. They’re driving over tonight for dinner and dancing, staying in a nice hotel, and then shopping at the weekend flea market. They’ll be home around six o’clock tomorrow evening. I told her to be on the lookout for those little charms people attach to their cell phone cases. I want some for the store.”

  Panic bulged my skull like an overinflated balloon.

  “I’ll give you some medicine. Tummy or head?” She led me to the restroom.

  “My head.” It was tough to decide which hurt worse. I followed her into the large bathroom, my gaze on the marble floor.

  “Here you go, dear.” She poured two chalky-white tablets into my hand then handed me a glass of water. “You’ll feel better in no time. Dinner’s almost ready. I’ll call the two of you down when it’s on the table.”

  “There are three of us upstairs.”

  “Who else is here?”

  “Bianca,” I said, trying to outsmart the hiccups.

  “I didn’t even notice. The girl moves like the wind. Breezes right through undetected. She’s been that way since she was a child. You know, Lenni and Bianca go way back.”

  “Yeah, Lenni told me. They met in second grade.”

  “Mrs. Donald’s class. They hit it off so quickly. Sometimes after school, I’d pick Bianca up, along with Lenni, and bring her over to play. Once, when they were only seven years old, I caught them pricking their fingers with stickpins. They squeezed drops of blood onto black construction paper and blended it with Q-tips. After I bandaged their bloody fingertips, they buried the paper in the backyard and performed a special dance on the dirt, creating a blood sister bond. Blood sisters forever, they chanted.” Mrs. Flemming shook her head. “Kids, huh?”

  The balloon in my head tightened.

  “Over there, beneath that big oak.” She pointed at a large tree through the bathroom window. “That’s where they did their precious little dance. It was so darn cute.” She smiled as if describing a child’s ballet recital. “The next day that amazing plant sprouted in the very spot their blood sister pact was buried.”

  “What kind of plant is it?”

  “That’s a mystery. It’s been seven years and no one, including my horticulture friends from the university, has found one similar. Bianca calls it the bloodberry bush, because of the blood sister ritual and the little red berries. She’s got us all calling it that now.”

  I followed her from the bathroom.

  We walked through the kitchen, past the stove where something bubbled and belched. “See you in a bit.” She stirred the steaming kettle.

  The staircase might as well have been a mountain. I paused with my hand on Lenni’s door, nerves jigging. I puffed out a breath and turned the knob.

  My gaze scanned the room. “Where is Lenni?” I hated the wobble in my voice.

  Bianca shot flames throug
h her eye sockets.

  I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling.

  Lenni stepped into the doorway. “Geez, Molly. You didn’t have to go all the way downstairs. There’s a bathroom up here, too, you know. And the soap smells better.” She thrust a damp hand under my nose.

  I sniffed her sickeningly sweet fingers, stifling a cough.

  “Vanilla cream,” she said.

  “Your mom said dinner would be ready in a few minutes.” I tried to ignore the green eyes boring into my skull from across the room.

  “Yikes. I think she’s making some vegetarian version of Chinese dumplings. She downloaded this whole recipe book of low-fat Asian dishes. Hope we can choke it down.” Lenni looked worried for a moment then broke into a big smile. “Molly, bring your huge bag downstairs and hide it under the table. We’ll fill it with dumplings when Mom’s not looking.”

  “Pam works hard to make you and your dad happy. You shouldn’t mock her cooking.” Bianca shoved her fists to her narrow hips and cocked a boot on Lenni’s desk chair. Her short skirt inched up her smooth thigh—Bianca had no reason to fear pink, plastic razors. “And I happen to be hungry.” Her hair smelled of earth and musk as she breezed from the room. The scent reminded me of the incense in the hippie store where Mom bought her CDs.

  “She hates me. How could you do this?” I asked, on the verge of tears.

  “Do what?” Lenni seemed clueless.

  “Ask me to spend the night and invite Bianca behind my back. You know how she feels about me.” I swiped a tear from my cheek.

  “You’re wrong. I don’t know how she feels about you. I only know how you feel about her. Bianca’s never even mentioned you.”

  Her honesty stung my pride. “Don’t you think it’s strange that she’s never mentioned me, with you and me being such good friends?”

  “You don’t want her to talk about you, but you think it’s strange when she doesn’t? I’m beginning to think you’re the one with the problem, not Bianca.” She let a breath out slowly. “Molly, just give her a chance. I’ve known her for a long time—”

  “So I’ve heard. I know all about your cute little ‘blood sister’ dance and all that other ridiculousness.” Jealousy simmered, hot and bitter, in my bones.

  “That was forever ago. We were only seven. Trust me, we aren’t going to perform any more dances around the bloodberry bush.”

  “Whatever.” I shrugged, hating my insecurity.

  “Look, I know Bianca is different. Her uniqueness is what I love best about her. Just like your uniqueness is what I love best about you.”

  “Really? I thought you wanted me to get a makeover so I would be beautiful like you, your mom, and Bianca.” I crossed my arms.

  “You are beautiful. You just seem a little uptight sometimes, like maybe you don’t feel beautiful.” Lenni looked wounded. She creased her forehead. “I’ve only known you for a few months, but I could tell by that first day we spent together at the lake we would become best friends. I’m a good judge of character. If you give Bianca a chance, you’ll be good friends too.” She stretched her tank top to her eyes and wiped tears.

  My heart hurt for her. She’d gone out of her way to welcome me into her town, her school, her home. I couldn’t stand to see her cry. “I’ll try, okay? Turn off the tears.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “But I have to show you something. I still want you to know how she feels about me.” I unzipped my bag, dug to the bottom, and then dumped everything onto the carpet.

  The doll was missing. Goosebumps invaded my arms.

  “She must’ve gone through my bag when I was downstairs, and you were in the bathroom. She hid it somewhere.” I walked to Lenni’s desk, cluttered with cosmetics. In the middle of the pastel jumble lay Lenni’s scrapbook. I thumbed through it, as if a cardboard version of the doll would pop up.

  “What are you looking for?” Lenni asked, peeking over my shoulder.

  “I-I’m not sure. It’s too complicated to explain.” Our lake pictures. Lenni and I smiling, our images surrounded by miniature ocean-wave stickers and little, glued-on fish. I looked closely at my face, spine tingling. My knees buckled. I leaned against the desk.

  Lenni slid the book from my hand and looked at the page. “Wow. Your eyes have really faded in these pictures.” She flipped page after page. “They’re almost gone.” She put her nose close to the photographs. “Weird. Mine are blue as ever. It must be the glue or something.”

  “Girls! Come down for dinner,” Mrs. Flemming called up the stairs.

  Lenni shrugged and shut the book.

  Bianca chatted with Lenni’s mom at the polished dining table, her red hair brilliant under the chandelier.

  “Here we are,” Lenni announced, scooting a chair out on either side of Bianca.

  “Let’s dig in.” Mrs. Flemming removed the lid from a glass dish, revealing dumplings in gray soup. “I made eggrolls, too. Tell me what you think.” The crusts oozed a curious green liquid as she plopped them to our plates.

  “Where’s Daddy? I thought he’d be home from the golf course by now,” Lenni said, poking at her eggroll.

  “He and a client are having dinner at the country club after the game. I guess you’d call golf a game. Or maybe it’s a round. A round of golf? Anyway, he’ll be back later. So how do you like the dumplings?”

  “Delicious.” Bianca grinned, chewing emphatically, licking her lips. She snaked her tongue over her small, white teeth then looked at me, snapping them sharply together.

  I tottered in my chair, jarring my plate. My dumpling rolled to the floor. “Sorry Pam,” I said, scooping it into the linen napkin.

  “Plenty more where that came from.” She eyed the vacant spot on my dish then splatted on a double helping.

  My stomach clenched. “Thank you.”

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked.

  “I think so.”

  “It takes a while for the pills to kick in, but once they do, it’s a good eight hours before they wear off.” She took a bite of her eggroll and grimaced, then sampled her dumpling. “Wow. How are you girls eating this stuff?” She spit into her napkin, stood and collected our plates. “I’m ordering pizza,” she called out from the kitchen, over the garbage disposal.

  “Come on. We’re off the hook,” Lenni whispered. We walked to the stairs. Bianca passed us midway, marching wordlessly ahead. She disappeared into Lenni’s bedroom as I climbed the last step. We followed her inside and I shut the door behind us.

  “What’s wrong?” Lenni hopped onto the bed, nudging Bianca playfully.

  Bianca shoved back. “I’m bored. Let’s play a game.” She glanced from Lenni to me, a little smile forming on her lips.

  “What kind?” Lenni jumped to the floor, rummaged through a crate filled with board games.

  “Not those,” Bianca snapped, sliding to the carpet.

  “I’ll hook up the game system.” Lenni crawled toward the television.

  “No. I’m thinking something more personal.” Bianca laid back and stared at the ceiling.

  “A get-acquainted game.” Lenni clapped. “Good idea.”

  Lenni was wrong—this was the opposite of a good idea. My eyes darted to the door. Slowly, it opened right before my eyes. I yelped and pointed.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Lenni stood and crossed the room.

  “The door—” The words came out as a whisper. I swallowed and tried again. “The door opened by itself.” I flicked my gaze to Bianca, wondering how she’d done it. She sat up and smirked.

  “Oh, that.” Lenni giggled. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She pulled the door closed and wiggled the knob. “Something’s wrong with the latch. It doesn’t always fasten. Dad hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”

  I dropped cross-legged to the floor, my heartbeat returning to normal.

  “Jumpy, aren’t we?” Bianca reclined on her elbows. “Let’s get started—unless Molly’s too scared.”

  “I
don’t really like games.”

  “Let’s play anyway,” Bianca said. “Do you have a bottle, Lenni?”

  Lenni stepped to the dresser, plucked fake carnations from a green bottle, and then tossed it. It bounced, landing in front of me.

  My heart shrank. “I’m not kissing anybody.”

  Lenni snickered and dropped to the floor beside me.

  Bianca rolled her eyes then settled them on mine. “We aren’t playing spin the bottle. We’re playing truth or dare.” She gave the bottle a twirl. “And you’re the lucky girl who goes first. Truth or dare?”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Ask me a question.”

  “Molly,” Bianca said, her voice smoky, like her eyeliner. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m originally from California, but we left when I was five. Dad found a better job in Texas.” Bianca watched my lips, unnerving me. “We lived in Crystal, Texas, until—”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Me, Mom, Dad…Boo, the Chihuahua.”

  “And your little dog too.” Bianca flexed her fingers. “Go ahead.”

  “We lived in Crystal until we moved here in July. That’s pretty much all.”

  “Fascinating,” Bianca said, her sarcasm obvious. She motioned to the bottle. “Your spin.”

  I spun. The neck pointed to Lenni.

  “Truth. Ask me something, Molly.” Lenni wiggled excitedly.

  I frowned, thinking. “Okay…how many boys have you kissed?”

  Bianca drew her tormented eyes to the ceiling. “Just the sort of question I’d expect from you.” She dragged her gaze to Lenni.

  “Umm, do I have to count my cousin Robert? We were only three years old.”

  “No. Please don’t,” I said.

  “Two boys, then. My spin.” She gave the bottle a twist. “Bianca!” she squealed. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare,” Bianca answered, pursing her full lips.

  “I dare you to hug Molly.”

  My face grew hot. “That’s not a good idea.”

  Bianca shot behind me, locked my elbows to my sides.

  I stiffened, heart hammering.

  She squeezed sharply, driving the air from my lungs.

  “Dare accomplished.” She moved back to her space on the floor.