Page 106 of The Debutantes
And then I see the other girl behind her.
“I tried,” Lily tells Marty. “She wouldn’t listen.”
Some part of me knew, and still, my brain won’t make sense of it. Lily LeBlanc, here. Breathing. Looking at Marty and Coach like she’s defeated, desperate. Like she’s on their side.
“I called for help,” Vivian says, glancing between Marty and Coach. “They’ll be here any minute.”
“Admirable effort,” Marty says, calm as ever. “But unfortunately, that’s quite impossible. I have all your phones.”
Vivian clocks the syringe, and the realization drains the color from her face. “No. No, this is…”
With a disappointed sigh, Marty flicks a hand at Coach. “Tie them up, Reed.”
Coach moves toward them, and for a moment, Vivian stays put, almost like she can’t believe he’d really do this. Then he lunges. Vivian jerks away, rushing for the steps, but Coach catches her by the wrist, yanking so hard that she cries out. He pushes her up against the base of the throne, pinning her arms behind her as she fights beneath him.
“Stop,” Lily shouts. “You’re hurting her!”
“Then she should stop fighting,” Marty says plainly. When Vivian doesn’t, he adds, “Would you like to choose which of your friends dies first?”
It’s then that Vivian goes limp. Not just her body, but her expression, too, like all the fight has gone out of her. She watcheswith a look of numb betrayal as Coach zip-ties her to another support pole. He doesn’t meet her eyes, just pulls the cords tighter than he needs to, like he’s trying to prove that he can—whether to himself, Marty, or the rest of us, I can’t be sure. He tugs the ties to make sure they’re secured, and then he turns to Lily, who holds out her wrists willingly with a vacant, broken stare.
“You’re working with them,” I say through dry lips.
Lily doesn’t look at me. Marty smirks in her direction.
“Lily has been very well behaved,” he says. “She knows what’s good for her.”
Coach pulls the ties taut around Lily’s wrists, but she stays silent. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, but still, my chest burns at her betrayal.
“Now,” Marty says, “here’s how this is going to work. No one talks unless I’ve given you permission. You’re all going to behave like perfect ladies. Understood?” He waits. “Understood?”
The word is like a bullet. We all nod.
“Good.” He turns to Lily. “Care to explain why you’ve failed at your only job?”
Lily’s lip quivers, and even now, I can’t tell how much of it is an act.
“Y’all are taking this too far,” she whimpers. “You said you’d let me go if I—”
“I asked you a question.”
She lets out a frustrated huff. “Reed didn’t even lock the door. It was open. I couldn’t fight her.”
Marty pinches the space between his eyebrows, like this is all just a nuisance.
“Reed?” he asks, without even looking at Coach. “Is that true?”
Coach blanches. He looks at the ground. “We said we didn’t want her to feel trapped.”
Marty scoffs.
“My parents will find out about this,” Lily speaks up again. “They’ll realize what you’re doing, and they’ll—”
“Shut your mouth, you stupid girl. You think they’re coming to save you?” Marty laughs again. “Then where are they?”
Lily sobs, and some tiny, fractured part of me thinks that maybe this is the reality check she deserves, before I remember where we are. What’s at stake.
Coach takes a careful step toward Marty. “We said we’d—”
