The clock on Thistledown’s town square began to chime, ringing out her defeat. She wasn’t going to make it. It was too late.
Julie stopped, panting, swamped by tears. “Why am I even bothering?” She dropped to her knees, despair overwhelming her. “I’ve done it again. Screwed up again. What’s the matter with me?”
“Nothing’s the matter with you.” Andie sank to the ground beside her and patted her arm. “Come on, don’t give up. We still have a chance.”
“No, we don’t. Listen to the clock.” It chimed the ninth and final ring, the last of it vibrating a moment on the night air before leaving silence behind. “I’m dead.” She covered her face with her hands. “He’s right about me. I’m no good at all. An embarrassment. A stupid, vain—”
“Don’t you say that!” Raven shouted and started to run. “He’s not right. He’s not!”
Confused, Julie leaped to her feet. “Raven, what are you … We can’t make it!”
Andie followed her up. They exchanged glances, then ran after their friend. “Raven,” they called in unison, “wait for us, we—”
Even as the words were leaving their lips, Raven fell, landing on her knees, catching herself with her hands, skidding on the road’s gravel shoulder.
With a cry, the other two raced to her side.
“Are you okay?”
“You’re bleeding!”
Raven ignored them and eased into a sitting position. She gazed at her badly skinned knees and hands. “Not good enough,” she muttered, turning her gaze to the rocky ground. She selected a jagged-edged rock about the size of a lime.
Even as Julie opened her mouth to ask her friend what she was doing, Raven drew her hand back and brought the rock crashing down on her leg. She barely flinched as the rock gouged a bloody path from her knee to her midcalf.
“There,” Raven said, her voice quivering. “That should do it.”
“Oh my gosh.” Julie brought a shaking hand to her mouth, gazing at the growing puddle of blood on the ground by her friend’s foot. “Raven, what … Why did you do that?”
Raven lifted her gaze. “I’m not about to stand back and let you take another round of your old man’s shit. I’ve been watching you take it since you were eight years old, and enough’s enough. This should take the heat off you.” She smiled, her lips trembling. “Your dad can hardly blame you for my accident. Why, despite fear of his reprisal, you did the Christian thing and stayed to help me. Give me a hand, will you?”
Julie grasped one hand, Andie the other. They helped Raven to her feet. She winced as she put her weight on her leg for the first time. “Man, that hurts.”
“Come on,” Andie murmured. “We need to get that cut cleaned. It looks pretty deep.” She bent and peered at Raven’s leg. She wrinkled her nose. “It might even need stitches.”
Stitches. Julie felt light-headed. Raven had done this for her. Hurt herself to help her.
“Do you think?” Raven studied the gash, her face pale. She swayed a bit and grabbed Julie’s arm. “Now my leg will match my face,” she murmured, referring to the long scar that curved down her right cheek, the result of a car accident when she was six. “Once a freak always a freak.”
“You’re not a freak!” Julie glanced at Andie, then back at Raven. “You have the hair and eyes of an angel, and you—”
“Have the face of a monster.” Raven laughed grimly. “You think I haven’t heard the guys call me Bride of Frankenstein behind my back?”
“They’re just immature jerks,” Andie said quickly. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”
“Spoken like someone who nobody’s ever stared at or whispered about. You don’t know what it’s like to be different.”
“You’d rather look like me?” Andie asked, holding her arms out. “There’s nothing special about me. Dishwater-blond hair, brown eyes. I don’t even have boobs yet and I’m fifteen.”
“Julie got ’em,” Raven said, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Julie got everyone’s.”
Julie felt herself blush. “You do so have boobs, both of you. Mine aren’t that big.”
“Compared to what? Watermelons?” Raven’s smile faded. “Don’t you guys get it?” She shifted her weight slightly, grimacing. “It doesn’t matter what other people think. It doesn’t matter if the whole frigging world thinks I’m a freak. All I care about is us, our friendship. I could be the most beautiful girl in the world, but I would be dead without you two. You’re my family. And like tonight, family always sticks up for each other. Always.”
2
An hour later, Andie stood at her front door, her head still spinning with the events of the night. She couldn’t stop picturing Raven bringing the rock crashing down on her leg. Raven had hardly even flinched, though Andie knew it must have really hurt. The gash had bled so much her white sneaker had turned pink.
But it had done the trick for Julie, that was for sure. Reverend Cooper had glowered at them, questioning them about their whereabouts before the accident had happened, obviously trying to trap them into confessing some mortal sin.
Through it all, Julie had looked almost comically guilty, but Raven had hammed it up for the Good Reverend, going on and on about the way Julie had stayed to help her even though Raven had begged her to go ahead and get home.
Raven was the best liar Andie had ever known.
And the best friend anyone could have. Andie didn’t think she would have the guts to do something like that, even if it meant saving her best friend’s butt.
In the end the worst he had delivered was a stern admonishment for them all to be more careful. Mrs. Cooper had cleaned and bandaged Raven’s leg, then driven them both home.
Andie turned and waved to Mrs. Cooper, then let herself in her front door. She shook her head. Raven was always doing stuff like that, charging fearlessly in to help her or Julie, never worrying about reprisals or being hurt.
That’s how she and Raven had met. It had been the summer she was eight, and Raven had just moved into the house next door. She had come upon Andie, surrounded by a group of neighborhood bullies on bikes. Raven had jumped in the middle of them, like some sort of supergirl out to save the day. Andie laughed to herself, remembering how awed she had been even though they had both gotten their butts kicked.
They had been instant best friends and inseparable ever since.
Andie headed for the kitchen, hungry. She plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Mom?” she called, noticing how quiet it was. “Dad? I’m home!”
“In here, pumpkin,” her dad answered from the den, his voice sounding funny, kind of thick and tight. Like he had a cold. “Could you come in here, please?”
