19. Iris Screw, Murder, Marry
Iris Screw, Murder, Marry
“If Twizzlers are wrong, I don’t want to be right,” I said, wrapping one around my wrist. I was lounging in a plush pink beanbag chair in Chloe’s very posh and teenager-y playroom. I wondered if her mom had googled “teenage girl playroom” or if she had just added most of the Pottery Barn Teen catalog to her cart. The rug, in shades of pink, green, blue, and yellow that were fun and vibrant, was soft enough to sit on, and white slipcovered couches flanked an armoire holding a TV. The walls were lined with huge vintage photographs of Juniper Shores: the lifeguard station, the food trucks, the ocean at sunset. I didn’t know much of anything about decorating, but I got the feeling it was all expensive. Which I guess was to be expected, considering we were sitting in a brand-new house on the ocean in one of the priciest zip codes on the East Coast.
“I’m really Team Oreo,” Chloe said, crunching, crumbs dispersing onto the white slipcover. She had told me the housekeepers changed the slipcovers every week like sheets. That’s how they always looked so clean despite the havoc we wreaked on them. I probably wouldn’t want a bunch of kids eating outside of my kitchen, but Chloe’s mom and dad were downstairs with a bunch of other couples having a wine tasting and nibbling on charcuterie, so they probably just wanted the little girls out of the way at all costs.
“Ugh, I’m not team anything,” Dabney whined. “How do you eat like that and still stay so thin?”
“Dabney, you are practically a toothpick,” I said. She was. She was easily a double zero, with white-blond hair she wore in this impossibly long ponytail down her back. Her legs were ninety miles long, and it was no coincidence that she was the best high jumper at school. “In fact, I think you would be even more beautiful with some Oreo weight on you.”
She smirked at me. “I could never.”
Chloe and I shrugged at each other like more for me .
“Dabney, I can’t with this tonight. We love you, you’re gorgeous. Just stop it.” Chloe was always getting on Dabney. Privately, she believed that Dabney said these things so we would tell her how gorgeous and perfect she was, and she was tired of it.
“Does everyone have their costumes ready for tomorrow night?” I asked. Belle Epoque on the Beach was so fun, and everyone dressed up as if he or she was living in the late 1800s in France.
“Speaking of that,” Chloe said, “I think it’s time we start discussing our group costume for Halloween.”
I felt warm and tingly all over just knowing that I was a part of the group costume. I took a moment to feel badly for everyone who wasn’t a part of a group costume.
“I’m so glad you brought this up,” Dabney said. “Because I have the best idea.”
I smiled. “All ears.”
“I think we should be the Spice Girls!” she said excitedly. “I’ll be Baby Spice, obviously.”
Chloe scrunched her nose. “So, you want to go, like, vintage?”
She nodded. I didn’t hate the idea.
“Jessica and Alexis would be our other two?” Chloe asked.
Dabney nodded, and I could tell that Chloe’s questioning had taken some of the wind out of her sails. It made me want to defend her, even though I wasn’t 100 percent on board with the Spice Girls situation.
“Do you think people will get who we are?” Chloe sounded doubtful.
“When the five of us are all together, for sure,” I said. “I mean, everyone’s seen the David Beckham docuseries now.”
“Oh, that’s true,” Chloe said. “I didn’t think of that. Okay. I’m in!”
“Yay!” Dabney said. Then she paused. “Um, Ris, we can put your outfit together for you.”
I shook my head. “You guys already had to do my Belle Epoque costume. I bet Alice can pull something together for me. She has a huge closet full of cool stuff, and she’s very generous with it.”
“Speaking of, how’s life at the mommune?” Chloe asked.
“I think it’s good. I mean, kind of weird sometimes when I really think about it, but also awesome to be with all these cool people.” I paused. “You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten Merit’s mom’s cooking. I’m serious.”
“What about Alice?” Dabney asked. “What’s she like?”
I knew why she was asking. “She’s like this really calm, centered goddess. I can’t explain it. I didn’t know what an ‘aura’ was until I met her.”
“It’s probably the Lexapro,” Chloe said seriously. Then we all burst out laughing.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, you know,” Dabney said. “There are just so many rumors about her and all those dead husbands.”
I winced. “You don’t honestly believe Alice killed her husbands?” Of course, I had believed it mere days ago. Did I still? It was hazier now.
She shrugged. “I don’t not believe it.” She paused. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
Had Alice ever done anything that seemed strange to me? Well, maybe taking our phones. A cold chill ran up my spine, but I scolded myself. That was for our mental health and development, not so she could murder us all and we wouldn’t be able to call for help.
“Is it true that everyone breastfeeds each other’s children?” Dabney asked.
I almost spit out my Twizzler. “Ew! Dabs! There aren’t even any babies in the house.”
This questioning was ruining the night’s vibe. I needed to course-correct.
“Okay,” I said, sitting up straighter. “How about a game of truth or dare?”
“Yes!” they said simultaneously.
“Me first! Me first!” Chloe said.
She would obviously be first. She was the born leader of the group, and, well, it was her house.
“Iris!” she said enthusiastically, pointing at me. “Truth or dare.”
I knew she was just dying to ask me about Merit, so I grinned at her devilishly. “Dare!”
She sighed. “You are the worst.”
“I know.”
She paused for a minute. “Okay. I dare you to go downstairs and sneak a bottle of wine from my parents’ party.”
My eyes widened. “Chloe, I can’t do that. My mom would kill me if I got in trouble.”
“So don’t get caught,” she said nonchalantly.
I glanced over at Dabney, who shrugged. “Can I be her wingwoman?”
Chloe thought for a minute. “I’ll allow it!” she said.
Dabney and I scrambled up, giggling.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll create a diversion for the parents.”
I nodded. “I think my best bet is grabbing a bottle out of one of the cases behind the bar,” I whispered as we walked down the back steps, which were covered in a cool antelope pattern.
“Can you just make sure it’s a rosé or champagne or something?” Dabney asked. “I hate red wine.”
“Sure, Dab. Any vintage requests while I’m stealing alcohol ?”
She smiled as she walked into the kitchen, where eight adults were mingling as a bartender stood behind the bar flanked by various bottles.
“Mrs. Montoya,” Dabney said loudly, “I wanted to see if I could practice my solo in the school play for all of you.” She smiled so sweetly.
I couldn’t help but laugh as Mrs. Montoya sputtered, “Oh, um, sure. Why, of course, Dabney.”
I mean, what was she going to say, really? I looked at the bartender and shook my head. “You might want to go refill them if she’s going to sing,” I whispered. He gave me a knowing look and picked up a bottle of red and a bottle of white, stepping from behind the bar.
All eyes were on Dabney as she belted out, “Moonlight, all alone on the pavement!”
I grabbed a bottle of champagne quick as a wink and was on the back staircase before anyone even glanced my way. I was stifling my laughter—because in what world was Dabney in a production of Cats ? She did have a gorgeous voice, though. Her mom made her sing in the church choir, and she hated it, but she was good.
A few minutes later, she appeared in the playroom, and Chloe and I clapped.
“Thank you, thank you,” she said.
We looked at the bottle of champagne. We’d all had a few sips of alcohol here and there, but that was the extent of it. “So, are we opening it?” I asked, suddenly filled with anticipation.
“Do you know how?” Dabney asked.
I shook my head.
“I know!” Chloe said. She whipped out her phone and opened YouTube. I followed the instructions, and after a few attempts, the top shot off, narrowly missing Dabney. We all screamed.
In most houses, we would have shushed each other. But we knew from experience that Mr. and Mrs. Montoya were only coming up here should the house catch on fire. Maybe.
I handed the bottle to Chloe, and she took a sip. She passed it to Dabney, who then passed it to me. It was kind of lukewarm, but pretty tasty.
“Okay,” I said. “My turn.” I looked from Dabney to Chloe, Chloe to Dabney.
“Chlo, truth or dare.”
She laughed.
“Truth! I’m too stressed from the last dare!”
That was just what I was hoping for. “Is it true that you lost your virginity to Greg in the Fosters’ pool?”
We had all heard the rumor even before Juniper Shores Socialite decided to out our friend, but Dabney and I hadn’t been brave enough to ask her. We assumed Chloe would have told us, but you never knew. She took another sip of champagne and started laughing. “Oh my God, no! Don’t y’all know me at all? I only let him touch my boobs because it’s what he wanted for his birthday. I’m going to make that boy suffer for as long as possible. Please.”
She passed the champagne to Dabney. “Okay, Dabs, truth or dare.”
“Truth,” she said.
“Fantastic.” Chloe looked at me, and then at Dabney again. “Screw, murder, marry. Merit, Ben, Greg.”
I shook my head. “You are the worst, Chloe.”
“Kill Greg,” Dabney said. “Because if I screw or marry him, you’ll kill me. Screw Merit, marry Ben. Easy.”
They both looked at me. “What? It’s not my question.”
But I will say my heart rate rose when Dabney said she wanted to marry Ben. I couldn’t imagine him being, like, off the table. “But Ben still gets to be my best friend, even when you’re married.”
“Um, no way,” Dabney said.
“Why not?”
Chloe scoffed at me. “Because he loves you, duh.”
“He does not. We’re just friends.”
“Right,” Dabney said. “We need to have some conversations about the basics of male/female relationships, but we’ll save that for another day. For right now… truth or dare!”
I was going to say truth . I’d had enough daring for one night. But… well… I didn’t want any questions about Merit or Ben. So, tentatively, I said, “Dare.”
Dabney nodded. “All right. I have one.” She looked at Chloe, her green eyes flashing. “But it’s a triple dare. It’s a dare that will take all three of us to carry out.”
My stomach started to fill with butterflies. “I don’t know, Dab,” I said.
“Not up to you!” Dabney said. “Only Chloe can turn down the triple dare at this point.”
Chloe grinned. “Oh, I’m in. I’m in all day long.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” Dabney said.
She got off the couch and sat cross-legged in front of me, taking my hands. “Iris. I dare you and me and Chloe to break into your house.”
I was confused. “What? Why?”
“Because they have all your stuff, and we’re getting it back.”
My heart fluttered at the idea. “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s, like, a crime scene.”
“It’s your stuff,” Chloe said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She made good points. My dad hadn’t done anything, and even if he had, it wasn’t my fault. And, come on, were they going to, like, sell my Lululemon on Poshmark and pay back his alleged victims? I sort of doubted that.
“Guys, my mom would seriously kill me.”
Chloe handed me the champagne bottle. “Your mom isn’t here.”
I took a swig, feeling bolder.
“It’s three houses down,” Dabney said. “How freaking hard could it be?”
I took another swig, the warmth of the champagne rushing through me, giving me the most bubbly, delicious feeling.
Chloe got up and went to her closet, tossing a duffel bag to each of us.
“You in?” Dabney asked.
I took one more swig. It was the fortification I needed. “I’m in,” I whispered.
Maybe it was the champagne talking. Maybe it was how pissed off I was to be punished for something that was in no way my fault. But I wanted vengeance. And my Golden Gooses. Tonight, with the help of my friends, I might just get both.