Playing with Fire (3 page)

The moment Kelly heard the pool door latch, she leaned in so close to Chad she could smell the warm soapy scent of his neck. “See? What did I tell you? She's avoiding you.”

Chad nodded slowly and turned to face Kelly. “But I can't break up with her now. She's in trouble…I mean, her family is. She needs our help.” He paused, his face just inches from Kelly's. “Doesn't she?”

Kelly held her hands up in surrender. “All I know is that she told me she was going to break up with you before all of this happened.” Kelly looked down at her new skirt. It looked much better on her than it had on Alison. And so
would Chad. She looked back up into Chad's big brown eyes. They were full of questions. And she had the answers. It was kind of amazing how easy it was to lie to him—and how easily he seemed to be buying it.

“If you want to nurse her through this knowing that she's using you, that's your business. But I guarantee she's going to drop you the minute it all blows over…just like she was planning to drop you last week. I'm just looking out for you, Chad.”

Chad looked away. “She just seems so…-
fragile
right now.”

“Are you kidding?” Kelly smirked. “Alison's tough. Like mother, like daughter, right?” Kelly could see him looking at the hair falling across her cheek. She was waiting for him to brush it back behind her ear. She tilted her chin toward him. “But, you know,” Kelly lied again, “not everyone in our family is hard as nails.”

Chad brushed the hair away from her eyes. A slow smile started at one corner of his mouth.

“That's what I hear,” he said.

“Oh, it's you.” Aunt Christine started, nearly upsetting her wineglass as Kelly got into the hot tub. “You scared me.”

“Don't be frightened.” Kelly gasped a little as she quickly lowered her body into the steaming water. “I won't bite.” She knew better. Christine would bite back, and harder.

Kelly looked at her aunt through the steam. It acted like a soft-focus lens, making Christine look as gorgeous as she did on-screen when she was loaded with makeup.
She may be past her prime
, Kelly thought,
but she's undeniably beautiful
. In truth, Kelly looked a lot like her—minus the nips and tucks.

“So, how's our little Alison?” Aunt Christine asked, almost managing to sound like she cared. Definitely not an Oscar-worthy performance. But Kelly was feeling generous. And she was trying to avoid helping her mom do post-party damage control inside.

“She's holding up okay,” Kelly said. “For now.”

Aunt Christine could not suppress a giggle.

Kelly laughed along with her. Green eyes and gorgeous looks were not the only things Kelly and her aunt shared. They both thrived on scandal. Watching it. Living it. Creating it.

Aunt Christine leaned back against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes. “Poor thing,” she said. “Do you think she's seen those photos in the magazines?”

Kelly snorted. “You mean the mother-daughter shots of Aunt Helen and Al in matching yellow Easter dresses?” Alison would just die if she knew. The picture was totally staged and totally lame—one of Helen's “perfect family” moments. “I don't think so. Alison hasn't been out much, and Aunt Helen would never
subscribe to ‘that sort of trash.' Maybe I'll have to pick one up for her.”

Christine and Kelly laughed together again, then fell silent. It was moments like these when Kelly almost trusted her youngest aunt. They were the bad girls of the family. The ones who didn't care to put on the perfect act for Tamara. Not that they didn't try to keep on her good side. Nothing was more important than staying on “the list.”

“Do you think Aunt Helen's off?” Kelly broke the silence. There was no need to explain off
what
—Aunt Christine always had her mother's money on her mind. Even though Tamara had supposedly taken Helen out of her will years and years ago, there were always rumors that Helen was still included. Nobody but Tamara and her lawyer knew for sure, of course, but after this arrest…

“Definitely off the list. Now if we can just get Alison crossed out, too, we'll all be sitting prettier.” Aunt Christine did not bother to open her eyes. For a moment Kelly wondered if she was plotting to get
her
taken out of the will, too, or her mother. But for some reason Aunt
Christine never seemed to go after Phoebe, and Kelly thought maybe she fell under her mother's umbrella of protection…for now.

Slowly Kelly slid under the water until it closed over her head. A funny thought occurred to her as the hot water bubbled around her. Maybe
none
of them were in the will. For all they knew, Her Highness planned to take every last penny with her to the grave. Maybe she was just dangling the promise of inheritance to keep them in her debt…and at one another's throats. Tamara simply loved to bring up “the list” at family gatherings and holidays. Her will was a constant source of speculation and feuding. The tabloids had recently declared that Grandmother Diamond was worth more than Oprah. But Kelly knew that you couldn't always believe rumors…or Aunt Christine.

“What if Aunt Helen gets cleared?” she asked, popping up and letting the water stream down her hair and face.

“Oh, she'll make sure that doesn't happen.”

“Really? You think Grandmother will get mixed up in this?”

“Oh, Kelly, don't be naive.” Aunt Christine
motioned with her eyes toward the open French doors where Grandmother Diamond was silhouetted. She stood, barely moving, smugly surveying her pool and back gardens.

“She's already gone beyond stirring the pot.” Christine smiled slyly, her voice a whisper. “She cooked this whole thing up. In fact, it's an old family recipe.”

Way too early on Monday morning, Zoey Ramirez followed her twin brother, Tom, into Stafford Academy. She had fallen back to sleep in the car on the way there and had almost missed the winding drive, clipped hedges, and just-as-clipped students gathering on campus. Stafford did not require its students to wear uniforms like they did at her last school, but it may as well have. To Zoey, every kid there looked like they'd gotten a memo regarding the style du jour and followed it to the letter.

Slinging her messenger bag over her other shoulder, Zoey flipped her long, dark, blond-streaked bangs out of her face. Zoey hadn't gone
to school in Silver Spring since the fifth grade, and she was not particularly happy to be back. She gave the inside of Stafford a once-over and sniffed. The long, clean halls were lined with overflowing trophy cases sending a crystal-clear message: Stafford was for winners.

So what am I doing here?
Zoey wondered. School had already been in session for a few weeks. For Zoey it was the first day. She knew she
should
concentrate on fitting in and catching up. But Zoey was not particularly good at doing what she should.

Farther down the corridor, trophy cases gave way to lockers—the one thing that made tenth grade different from fifth. Students clustered with their kind. Zoey scowled past the jock block and waded through cheerleaders watching Tom make his way down the hall. His confident stride and winning smile reminded Zoey of the way their father, the district attorney, worked the room at schmoozy political events. Ugh. Since when did Tom get so popular?

Before she left for boarding school all those years ago, Zoey and her twin had been close.
Now she felt like she hardly knew him. Granted, it had only been a few days since she had moved back to Silver Spring, but she and Tom had barely even spoken. He certainly hadn't asked her how she'd liked her most recent boarding school (the last in a long line), or why she was back so soon—or so suddenly. Not that Zoey felt like spilling her guts to him…or anybody. But it would have been nice for her brother, at least, to ask for her side of the story.

Zoey followed Tom's back, wondering where he was going and how long she should stick with him. She didn't know if she could hang with his crowd and did
not
want to look like she was leeching. On the other hand, she didn't exactly have anywhere else to go…

But the moment Zoey saw where Tom was headed, she stopped dead in her tracks. Chad Simon was leaning against his locker at the end of the hall. He raised a hand in greeting when he spotted Tom. Chad had been Tom's best friend forever and was harmless enough. What made Zoey stop was the green-eyed snake draped over his shoulder—Kelly Reeves.

What in the world was Chad doing with Kelly? Last Zoey had heard, Chad belonged to Alison Rose. Those cousins shared too much.

The thought of Alison and the sight of Kelly combined to knock the wind right out of Zoey. She staggered back against a locker, hoping nobody would notice the look of pain and disgust on her face. The sting of what Alison and her cousin had done to Zoey back in fifth grade hadn't mellowed a bit, even after all these years. It didn't take much to make Zoey spiral back to that horrible night when Alison had betrayed her—and Zoey's whole world had fallen apart.

The sleepover was lousy from the get-go…mother-chaperoned party games, unchaperoned truth or dare, lots of whispering between Alison and Kelly—never with Zoey. There were the usual unexplained giggles. And whispers. But Zoey was never in on the joke, which could only mean one thing: She
was
the joke.

Then the phone rang.

“Kelly, sweetie, it's for one of your friends.” Phoebe Reeves' voice crackled over the intercom
in the huge family room the six girls had taken over and covered with sleeping bags, magazines, and snack foods.

Kelly grabbed the extension. “You rang?” she said rudely. She sounded vaguely annoyed that her party had been interrupted. They'd been talking about boys, and Kelly was just about to tell her anxious followers who her latest lucky crush was so that they could all like him, too.

“For you.” Kelly handed the phone to Zoey abruptly. Out of the corner of her eye Zoey saw Alison look at the ceiling. “Next time hire an assistant,” Kelly hissed. Zoey's face flamed and she took the cordless into the bathroom and closed the door behind her to shut out the laughter of the other girls.

“Hello?” she said.

“Zoey?” Tom's voice sounded funny, like he had been punched in the stomach. Zoey suddenly felt like she'd been punched, too. “It's Mom,” he said.

It was all he had to say. A few minutes later Zoey was changed back into her street clothes and cramming her sleeping bag into its sack.

“So, you're just going to leave?” Kelly asked,
incredulous. Nobody left her parties before they were over. Nobody. Ever. Even if they were the butt of the joke. But that was not why Zoey was leaving.

“I have to go,” Zoey said quietly. She looked at Alison, who, until that night, she had thought of as her best friend. She wished she could tell her what was wrong—what was going on. But she couldn't. She could not say it. Not here. Not now.

Alison didn't even meet her gaze. Instead she looked at her cousin and sing-songed, “Zoey has to run home to Mommy!” The other girls cracked up.

All Zoey could do was flee in horror. She grabbed her stuff, fighting back tears. They had no idea. And that just made it worse.

Running out of the house, she heard Kelly's mother, Phoebe, call after her. Zoey ignored her and kept running. The gate on the driveway was closed, but it didn't stop her. Zoey heaved her bags over it and climbed up after them.

The sound of a locker slamming right next to her jolted Zoey out of her head. She took a deep
breath to clear the memory and stood up straight. She'd thought the party was bad. What had happened after that was a hundred times worse. Zoey had vowed that night that she would never be the fool again.

She tried hard to forget, but would not forgive. In fact, if she had anything to say about it, her former best friend Alison was going to find out what it felt like to have her life destroyed. Zoey hid a wry smile behind her hand. From the look of things around here, Alison's demise had already begun. The news of Helen Rose's arrest was everywhere. It was clear that Chad was not stepping up to catch Alison's fall, and Kelly hadn't helped a soul in her life. Alison Rose was standing on the edge of a cliff just waiting for a little push. And Zoey planned to be the one to shove her.

Even in a good week Alison hated Mondays, and this was nowhere close to being a good week. She had prepared herself for the worst. Her earbuds were in and she was listening to a playlist she had put together—the soundtrack for a happier life—so she would not have to hear any whispers in the hall. On her feet she wore her favorite red Pumas—the ones her mom hated—so she could run away if she had to. All she needed now was a small army of supporters to get her through the school day. She needed to find her best friend, pronto.

After Grandmother Diamond's party, Alison had gone home feeling strange and confused.
Tamara's offer, Chad's distance—and what was with Kelly wearing
her
skirt?—none of it added up. Unable to handle one more prodding comment or pitying look, Alison had slipped some money out of her grandmother's dresser drawer, called a cab, and left early. She'd thought she needed support. Turned out she'd just needed to be alone.

She was home when she saw the magazine on the table in the kitchen. It was one of the rags Elise liked to read that specialized in humiliating celebrities by showing pics of them looking fat or not wearing makeup. It was the kind of trash Helen hated, and normally it wasn't Alison's thing, either. But she was looking for distraction. She'd take what she could get. She'd picked it up to see what lame-o celeb they were embarrassing this week and choked on her bottled water.

The lame-o was
her
. There she was with her mom, in a full-color two-page spread. Not just once, three times. The caption below a picture of her and her mom in embarrassing matching outfits read:
LIKE MOTHER
,
LIKE DAUGHTER
? Alison suddenly felt dizzy.

Alison pushed the horrible night and the
horrible magazine from her mind and quickened her pace toward her locker, where she hoped her friends would be waiting. The only way she was going to make it out of this black hole was with the help of Chad and Kelly and the rest of their group. She needed to set things straight with Chad, get to the bottom of the weird vibe she had been feeling at the party, and tell Kelly that if she had really wanted the skirt she should have just said something at the store. It was no big deal.

Spotting the back of Chad's curly head, Alison felt her mouth start to curve up in a smile. He was so cute. And so sweet. Easily the nicest guy at Stafford. As she focused on his curls, she saw something winding its way through them—a hand—playing with the locks, twisting his curls around perfectly manicured fingers with Frostbite-colored nails. She didn't have to see any more to know who the fingers belonged to. Alison had seen those fingers getting into things they didn't belong in all her life. Kelly was playing with her boyfriend's hair!

“What do you think you're doing?” Alison could hear the quiver in her voice over her
music. She did not bother to pull out her earbuds. She only wished they could drown out everything that was going on. Kelly's arm was draped over Chad's shoulder, and she didn't look remotely apologetic.

“Here we go,” Kelly said to Chad, ignoring Alison. She rolled her eyes and assumed an expression of absolute boredom.

Chad whipped around. He looked surprised and caught. “Alison. Hey,” he mumbled. “I didn't think you were coming back to school yet.”

“Obviously,” Alison choked out. She looked Kelly straight in the face and begged with her eyes for this not to be happening. Not this. Not now.

Kelly flashed a cruel, cold smile. “Welcome back, Al,” she cooed. She ran her nails down the back of Chad's neck. “Chad, tell her.”

“I've been thinking,” Chad said to his shoes.

“It looks like you've been doing more than thinking.” Alison found her tongue. It was that thing in her mouth that suddenly seemed as big as a jumbo hot dog.

“Well, um, we were pretty much broken up,
anyway,” Chad said with a shrug. He looked at Kelly, as if for confirmation, and to continue avoiding Alison's gaze.

Broken up?
Broken up?
“We weren't broken up at all!” Alison said loudly. This
had
to be a joke. Alison looked from Kelly to Chad and back. Everyone else in the hall had gone silent. Alison felt like she was drowning. She wanted to run, but willed herself not to. This couldn't be happening.

“Tell her what you told me, Chad,” Kelly purred.

“You haven't really been yourself lately.” Chad spoke to the air next to Alison's head. Alison didn't even bother trying to catch his eye. Whatever was going on, it had nothing to do with Chad—and everything to do with Kelly.

Alison stepped closer, so she was just an arm's length away from the two people she used to trust most in the world. “In case you haven't noticed, I have a lot going on in my life,” she said hoarsely.

Chad's big brown puppy eyes were full of guilt. “I'm so—” he started, but then Kelly slipped her hand into his.

“You're…?” she prompted. Alison wanted to throw up. They had this rehearsed!

“It was over before any of this other stuff happened,” he mumbled.

Alison listened to Chad without taking her eyes off her former friend. Kelly met her gaze, unblinking.

The two cousins stared at each other. Kelly, coolly. Alison, fighting back angry tears. It was no surprise that Kelly could be awful. She had turned on her cousin before with no better reason than boredom. She had done it more times than Alison liked to think about. Kelly wounded for fun. For sport. But this was a whole new level of cruel, even for Kelly. Even for a Diamond.

Finally Alison blinked. With music still wailing in her ears, she turned and walked off in silence.