Here Lies Blair Campbell

Chapter Two

“I hate her!” Kara storms into the living room, a small ball of fury as she flings herself onto the couch where Phoebe and I are sitting. The bowl of popcorn falls to the side, flinging popcorn everywhere. Phoebe throws Kara a dirty expression, but doesn’t say anything.

“Who?” Izzy asks from the kitchen, where she’s helping Phoebe’s mom with dinner. She has an apron over her overalls, tomato sauce smeared on the front. She looks away from the pot on the stove to give Kara a patronizing smile, a little glint in her eyes.

Kara glares. “Both of you,” she snaps. “You ​know​ what can happen if you give her another chance to audition. You’re a hypocrite, you are.” Kara shakes a finger at Izzy, looking crazed as she stomps over to her, her usually sleek hair now wild. Her face is flushed with anger and maybe even embarrassment, like even she can’t believe how worked up she is. None of us are really surprised--in fact,were slightly amused--at Kara’s mini-tantrum. “You’re ​double-sided,​ I swear.​ You’re ​our​ friend, yet you’re going to her parties and hanging out with her friends. And don’t try to deny it, either, because I know you- you’re even going tonight!”

Izzy rolls her eyes, turning back to the boiling pot of tomato sauce. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying myself, Kara, even if it’s at the discretion of Blair Campbell. And besides, you’re the only one who really thinks that she’s an ​enemy. ​She doesn’t do much but say the truth-”

“In that creepy, monotonous way she has.”

Izzy shakes her head, already done with this conversation. “Whatever you say, Kara. Noah, go get me the rigatoni.”

Noah, who, for the past hour, has been subject to Izzy’s orders and Phoebe’s constant stress over the history test tomorrow, sighs and sets down Phoebe’s notebook and goes into the exhaustive pantry to look for the rigatoni. I’ve been trying to avoid him since we got here, and he’s been doing the same, but it’s hard not to stare at him, sticking out like a sore thumb in Phoebe’s home. It’s not because Phoebe’s house is elegant and refined and way too big for just her and her parents, but because he’s the only boy here right now, surrounded by way too many girls. He practically throws the rigatoni at Izzy, who catches it and gives him a warning look.

He catches my eye and gives an imperceptible roll of his eyes. I look down and back to my laptop, where the same magazine spread is staring back at me. I make a few feeble clicks before letting my eyes slip towards Noah again, who is waiting for Phoebe to explain the effects of Nationalism—for the sixth time.

Ally has been quiet this whole time, eyes on the movie in front of her. It’s Kill the Boy Band, Kara’s favorite movie of all time, where a group of fangirls kidnap the drummer of the group, only to find him dead in their hotel room a week later. We know better than to let Kara watch this kind of movie—it’s where she gets her messed up ideas—but it’s a guilty pleasure for all of us.

Kara sighs sadly and begins to watch the movie with us, swinging her feet lazily in the air as she begins flipping through her English notebook. “Do we have a quiz tomorrow?” she asks me absent-mindedly.

I nod. “Seb is gonna kill me if I don’t ace that quiz tomorrow.”

Seb is my older brother, but he acts more as a parent than a brother. He’s the CEO of Taryn Electronics, one of the most successful electronics businesses in California, right up there with Apple. He expects a lot of me, but I’m not really what he hoped for. I’m pretty smart, but I don’t “apply myself” like he wants me to. It’s honestly one of the most annoying things ever, the way he expects me to live up to him, maybe even beyond him. But in a way, I guess, it’s better than being neglected.

“Seb’s hot,” is all Kara says, nudging me with her foot. I nudge her back, but with irritation. Yes, Seb is somewhat attractive, but I don’t need to hear that coming from one of my best friends. I should be used to it by now, since Kara is Kara, and she flirts with everything in existence, but really? She knows about the somewhat strained relationship between us- but nothing is ever filtered when she talks.

Phoebe’s mom leaves to go make a phone call, and immediately, Izzy sets down the spoon she’s been stirring the sauce with and turns to us. “We should all go to Blair’s party tonight.”

Phoebe’s already shaking her head. “No. That’s a bad idea.”

Kara’s wrinkling her whole face. “Why would we do that? Blair’s the ​enemy​.”

Izzy shakes her head. “She’s an enemy to ​you​. Does anyone else feel threatened by Blair?”

Even Ally snorts at this ridiculous question. Everyone feels threatened by Blair, one way or another. Izzy waves off our responses. “We should still go.”

“What for?” That’s Ally, and she hasn’t spoken more than one word to Izzy in almost two weeks, so we jump when we hear her voice. We must look kind of shaken up, because she looks at us, face wrinkled, and says, “What? It’s a legitimate question.”

Izzy shakes herself out of her mini stupor, and says, “What ​for​? Why not? It’ll be fun.” She shrugs and puts her hand on her hip.

Ally looks at her incredulously, but it’s Phoebe who says what we’re all thinking. “Izzy, you have fun without us at Blair’s party. And you know we don’t associate with her or her parties, so since when do you think about us going with you?”

There’s a look of hesitation, and then anger, and then a terrifying calm. And it’s in that moment that I know she knows something, and it’s probably making her angry. I’m not necessarily certain, because you can never be sure about anything when it comes to her, but I know it’s ​something.​ Izzy is the kind of person to get revenge in the weirdest ways possible, and sometimes without the victim even knowing. It’s kind of scary and it’s one of the first things I learned about her, so I’ve always been on the lookout about that.

Part of me wants to know what exactly she has planned, which I know will happen because we don’t have a choice in whether or not we go. But another part of me wants to run home and forget she said anything about any party. If we go—and we will—the night won’t end well. One of us will be crying, another will be angry, and another just resigned.

Izzy looks somewhat defeated yet defiant at the same time. “Guys,” she says, almost begging. That’s what does us in—the c***k in the armor.

Phoebe sighs and sets her books to the side, a look of reluctance on her face. “Fine, we’ll go,” she says sullenly. She points a finger at an unusually relieved Izzy. “For ​you​, Izzy. Don’t you ​dare​ do anything stupid—I know you’re up to something, okay? I’m not an i***t. I’m not gonna ask, because you’re not gonna tell us. But if you involve ​me​, I will hurt you. I swear, Izzy.”

Phoebe’s trying to scare her into doing no harm tonight, but based on the amused expression over-taking our leader’s face, it isn’t working. Izzy isn't like that. She’s trying to keep a straight face, but we can all see the laugh tugging at her mouth—and then she bursts straight into laughter.

Phoebe looks defiant, but she’s smiling. “I’m ​serious​, guys!” “Right,” Izzy says through her laughs. “​Right​.”

The party is in full swing when we get there. We had hastily put on our outfits, so we all looked slightly haphazardly dressed-except for Izzy, who always looks put together, no matter the occasion. Izzy stands in the center of the room, hand on her hip, looking poised and confident in a short black dress and heels. Her eyes are narrowed and her eyebrows are furrowed, looking around the room.

“Are you looking for Blair?” a girl is asking Izzy, a knowing look on her face. She’s a leggy brunette, her black curly hair wild and only held back with a headband. She has a red solo cup in her hand and a glass bottle of root beer in another. I immediately place her- she’s the only one in Blair’s crowd who doesn’t drink- but I don’t remember her name. “She’s in the backyard with Mason.”

Ally and I glance at one another over Izzy’s head, both thinking the same thing: ​what the hell is Izzy doing at these parties?​ Izzy and Blair are practically sworn enemies. We turn our gazes back onto Izzy, and we know she can feel it, because she squirms a little and clenches her fist.

She ignores our looks and says with a little laugh, “Mason actually bothered to show up and associate with Blair’s crowd?”

The girl shrugs and smiles. “You know them- the unpredictable pair.”

Kara murmurs something angry underneath her breath. “What is Izzy doing?” she whispers to me and Noah.

Noah shakes his head, scoffing with an amused smile on his face. “I don’t go to parties with Izzy. I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re here today,” Phoebe says, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Noah nudges her arm. “That’s only because I don’t trust Charlie to keep anyone safe if Izzy ends up murdering someone.”

“Would she really?” Kara asks, an oblivious and bright smile on her face. Within five minutes, she’s already got a red solo cup in her hand, her hair down and a thin sheen of sweat on her face.

Noah takes the cup away from her and hands it to me to throw out. “Yes.”

Izzy turns to us and motions for us to follow her out to the backyard. “Come on,” she yells over the music exasperatedly when we refuse to make a move towards the backyard.

Phoebe shakes her head. “What’s going on, Izzy?” she yells. “What are you doing?”

Izzy shakes her head and waves her hand at us to follow us, and Noah pushes me and Phoebe gently by the small of our backs to follow Izzy. He leans close to my ear and says quietly, “Just follow her, okay? You know Izzy- she’s not going to say anything.”

“Can I kill her?” Kara mutters from the side of me.

“Not in public.” I lead her by her arm to the backyard through the throngs of people in the middle of the living room, dancing with the red solo cups in their hands. Kara is still muttering something underneath her breath, and I’m pretty sure it’s not friendly. I guess Phoebe and I aren’t the only ones upset by the night’s change of plans.

But look- it’s not that we don’t like parties. Kara is a huge party girl, and I love going to them with Noah and Kara, because that’s when Noah and I are able to disappear together without being questioned. I guess the only one in our group who’s not a big on parties is Phoebe- but she still comes with us to make sure we don’t do anything stupid.

But here’s the thing- we can’t go to parties with Izzy, and definitely not at Blair’s house. Those two together doesn’t sit well with either of us. And when she invites us along, it is then that we know that something is up. Because one of us will end up in a very bad situation- one we won’t be able to get out of.

So we follow her, because that’s what’s best for us.

We end up not seeing Izzy for the rest of the night. Phoebe slowly drifts away from the group. Noah and I slowly fade the group and find an idle couch in the back of the house that we both fall onto. He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. “How ya doin’ there, Char?”

I look at him with an incredulous look. “You really asking me that?”

He laughs and reaches over to squeeze my knee. “Sorry, babe.”

We sit in silence, the only sound being the vibrating of the bass and cheering in the party two stories below us. Noah sighs quietly and pulls me closer to him. “Hey,” he whispers. I look at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Hey,” I say back, amused.

“Did I ever tell you--”

“How beautiful I am?” I wave him off. “I know, thanks.”

“--that I love you?” He finished with a funny look in his eye.

I bite my lip and move closer to him. I feel a blush rising to my cheeks, and I thank the Lord that I’m dark, because even though we’ve been together for a while, I still get shy around him, embarrassed when he can see me becoming emotionally vulnerable around him. But it all comes out in my voice when I squeak out, “Really?”

Noah laughs and leans forward, his mouth mere inches away from mine. “Yeah. I think I might marry you one day.”

I look at him in the dark. His blue eyes are shining so bright that I can see them, and he’s chewing on his lip with an amused expression on his face. But I can tell that even he is becoming shy at the moment, because it’s not everyday that we get to be alone with each other, and for him to mention for the first time after a year that he loves me, is almost strange for a boy like Noah to be doing. Of course, I have said “I love you” back to him--not because I felt obliged to do so-- but it’s not something that comes up often in a relationship like ours.

We’re the occasionally romantic couple, but most often we’re the ones who just go with the flow. Emotions aren’t always put up for inspection. Between us, it’s a matter of comfort, trust, and the ability to have fun with each other-- not ​I love yous​ .

But then again--

“I love you too,” I whisper, closing the gap between us. Everything around us goes silent as we kiss, and now it’s just the two of us in Blair Campbell’s house. Everything else- Izzy, the party downstairs, the problem with Astrid, and Blair- falls away. It’s all gone.

But then there’s something vibrating from beneath me, and I pull away to check my phone. It’s Izzy-- ​get over here now. we’re leaving asap. we need to find noah.

“It’s Izzy,” I say to Noah, who has slipped his hands under my shirt and around my waist. I disengage myself from him and get off of the couch, trying to find my shoes in the dark. “We need to leave. She’s trying to find you.”

“You go out first,” he says. “I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

I nod, still trying to put on my sandals as I stumble down the stairs. I find Izzy waiting with the rest of the group near the doorway. Izzy looks miffed, but Kara looks pissed again-- surprisingly, so does Phoebe.

“What happened?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Blair,” Izzy responds coldly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “She’s gotten a bit out of line tonight.”

I wait for an additional response to come, but it never does. They just silently fume as Izzy calls Noah. “Get down here now, Noah. We’re at the doorway.” Izzy hangs up before he can ask any questions.

He arrives two minutes later, and as we all walk out the door, I ask again, “What happened?”

Phoebe shakes her head angrily, and says, “It doesn’t matter what she did. It matters what she’s going to have coming to her.”

“Which is?” I ask exasperatedly, sliding into the middle backseat. Noah climbs in after me, and gently squeezes my knee in the dark, signaling for me to calm down.

Izzy and Phoebe share a look, and Phoebe looks as though she’s about to tell me. She opens her mouth before shutting it right closed. She shakes her head at me through the rearview mirror. “It’s nothing.”