The Death of Us by Alice Kuipers Read Free Book Online Page A

him well, but I’ve seen him hanging out with Kurt at school and I’ve always wanted to talk to him.”
    She squeals with delight. “Xander? I knew it. He’s perfect. Quirky and sweet and smart. Like you.”
    I feel a little surge of pleasure. “Ego boost.”
    She says, “Pass that to me. Your question.”
    “Has your mom ever got any help?”
    She screws the lid back on the flask.
    “Come on, Ivy. You said I could ask anything.”
    “Let’s just say, if anyone asks, it never happened. Okay?” Her eyes make her look like a baby rabbit that’s been left out in the snow. She says more quietly, “I worry she’ll do it again. You know?”
    I want to say that I don’t know, no, I
have no idea.
    The mood has shifted, grown melancholy. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to spoil everything.”
    She manages a smile. “It’s okay. The game was stupid anyway. We should go.”

    Night seeps over us as we walk arm in arm down the alley behind Ivy’s house toward a bar I’ve passed a million times on my way to and from school with Rebecca. We’d always planned to go together one day, but instead I’m here with Ivy. I shake off the thought. Music pulses from within as we join the short queue below the large silver lettering of the sign that reads BEneath. I’ve burst out of my world into a whole new planet.
    Ivy whispers, “What’s your name?”
    “You forgot me already?” I joke, before I realize she’s passing me something. It’s an ID card with a photo of a dark-haired girl who looks nothing like me.
Isabel Cabezas.
    Ivy has a secret smile, like she’s just handed me the moon. ID. I hadn’t even
thought
about it. I say, “I don’t look like her.”
    “I know.”
    “Who is she? How come you have her card?” I study it. “Isabel Cabezas,” I read. Born Kansas City. I recite her birthdate, making sure I get the year right.
    The queue is moving forward and older people ahead are laughing, chatting, relaxed. I’m never going to get into this bar, I’m too young. There’s no way.
    “Trust me,” says Ivy.
    And in that moment, I do. I have a vivid memory of when we were thirteen: Ivy whispering, “Trust me.”
    The queue shuffles forward more and I don’t even have time to be nervous as the bored security guy checks my ID, looks me over, nods slightly. He doesn’t seem to realize the girl in the photograph is a completely different person. He waves me in. I step forward, the music wrapping itself around me, the vodka in my blood making my confidence soar.
    BEneath is very full. There are lots of older people dancing, pressed together. Blue and white lights ghost over the moving bodies. We walk along the edge. The booths look more like beds, and people lie on them, listening to music, drinking, watching each other.
    Kurt and Xander are standing by the bar. Words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Wow, this place is amazing. I’ve never been here, no … I mean, it’s not even two blocks from my house and I never even knew it was so cool.”
    “Callie, you need to sit down,” Kurt says, leaning to talk into my ear. “Want some water?”
    Ivy smiles and brushes by to say something to Kurt. I can smell her perfume. Her skin is silky. She catches my eye, indicating with a glance that this is a good time for me to talk to Xander. I nod and say, “Xander and I could, um, get drinks.”
    Xander seems to hear me and he mouths the word
Drinks.
    We walk away from Kurt and Ivy. Their absence is like a cool liquid seeping through my dress. A line pops into my head:
The space you never filled, a water glass spilled.
    I glance back. They’re huddled together. Ivy shrugs one shoulder. God, I’d love to be like that, so provocative yet comfortable, so sexy. Maybe I
could
be like that. In the heat of bodies around me, squeezing between the sweaty dancers, I realize I’m drunk. I’m dizzy, delirious drunk. I take acouple of dance steps, leaving Xander to get the bartender’s attention,