Finally spending time with Fallon on a more regular basis had made everything begin to feel normal again. Even with what seemed to be some kind of a nasty virus returning - and Kirby felt like she may have caught whatever it was from Fallon - the other girl being around for movie nights and dinners when both of their parents were busy had been a healing experience.
Healing for Kirby , that was. Fallon's mystery illness only seemed to be getting worse, and despite Kirby insisting that she spend a night or two alone to relax and get better, the other girl was becoming increasingly persistent about having Kirby glued to her side at all times when she wasn't in school or at cheer practice.
She felt a little guilty for shrugging Liam off as much as she had been, but where Fallon had become clingier, he had been becoming more and more closed off. If he wasn't staring off into space and barely paying attention to her, he was talking nonstop about everything that had happened in such a short period of time in their town. As bad as it made Kirby feel to think so, it was depressing and exhausting.
"Trixie sent me a Facebook message this morning telling me that she was going to kick my ass on Friday," Fallon said, her tone as light and conversational as if she were announcing that she'd decided to try a new hairstyle. "Something about calling an emergency practice when she's trying to organize a search party."
Kirby shifted a little, choosing her next words carefully. She was stretched out on Fallon's bed with the other girl's head in her lap, pretending to watch whatever reality show was playing on the TV screen across the room.
"It would probably mean a lot to her if you guys all came out, maybe after practice?"
She watched as Fallon rolled her eyes, feeling her shoulders stiffen in irritation. Remedying the situation by carding her fingers into her hair, she breathed a quick sigh of relief when Fallon simply closed her eyes, calming down.
"We'll be tired. I run a tight ship," Fallon huffed. "Besides, you don't hold a search party for a dead body. That's what police dogs are for."
Kirby was quiet for a moment.
"Evan is still missing."
Waving a hand dismissively, Fallon opened her eyes again and fixed Kirby with a disbelieving sort of look.
"He's dead, and you know it."
"No, I don't," Kirby insisted, "and neither do you."
Fallon, clearly growing bored of the conversation, squirmed to sit upright and turned to Kirby, changing the subject.
"Liam looks like he lost weight. Trying to make sure he fits into his dress for homecoming?"
"Funny," Kirby deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "I don't know, he seems stressed out. I haven't really talked to him much this week."
Fallon's eyes flashed in a familiar, wicked sort of way, and Kirby knew what she was going to ask before the words even left her mouth.
"Who needs to talk? I've heard haunted and depressed dick is the best . Lucky you."
"I wouldn't know," Kirby hummed, trying to shrug the conversation off entirely. She picked at a loose thread on the throw blanket she was stretched out on, avoiding the other girl's eye.
" I could check for you. Give you a full performance review."
Her eyes shot up to the other girl's face, locking on Fallon's, and then narrowed.
"No, no thanks. I don't need you to fuck my boyfriend, but that's very generous of you to offer."
She felt an uncomfortable prickling sensation creep up the back of her neck, accompanied by little jolts of adrenaline shooting into the tips of her fingers.
"Is he a good kisser, at least?" Fallon pressed on.
"Compared to what, the exactly zero other boyfriends I've ever had?" Kirby pointed out. There was venom in her tone, even if it wasn't in her words. She wanted to snap at Fallon, but didn't have the ammunition. Pointing out that Liam had been her only boyfriend - while Fallon had made herself popular in other ways - was over the line, and she knew it. Something about the look on Fallon's face said that she already knew what Kirby was thinking, and she was urging her to say it.
She didn't, though.
She sat still, glaring, until Fallon shrugged and suddenly closed the space between them, kissing her.
She'd dreamt about it - once, and only once - and then spent the entire day feeling dirty, jumping whenever Fallon spoke to her and avoiding eye contact with everyone, as if worried that they would read her thoughts. It had been confusing, and after a full day of guilt, Kirby had finally felt better and decided to move past it. It had been the first time they'd spent more than two weeks apart, during the summer, and when she looked it up in her dream encyclopedia - behind a locked door with all the windows closed, just in case - she had been informed that 'intimate dreams about friends' often just meant that you missed them in another aspect. That much had been true - so she'd tucked the dream away in the back corner of her mind and never let herself think about it again.
This - real life - was different. She felt an immediate, overwhelming rush of affection, but it wasn't the hazy, soft, dreamworld kiss that she'd almost forgotten about. Fallon was cold. Her lips were chapped, and cracked, and as Kirby reached up to hold her arm, she felt frail.
And then, Kirby remembered how sick she was, hence spending so much time with her in the first place.
And then, Kirby remembered Liam.
"What the fuck?" Wiggling back across the bed, and nearly falling off of the other side, Kirby pushed Fallon away and wiped at her lips with the back of one hand, eyes widening as the consequences of what they'd just done came crashing over her like a wave of cold water.
Despite her outwardly death-like appearance, Fallon's immediate laughter lit up her entire face.
"Holy shit," she managed between giggles, toppling onto the pillows. "Was that better than Liam?"
"No!"
"No?"
"I mean - I -" Her stuttering answer only set Fallon's giggling off again, and she could feel her face turning hot with blush. "I have to get home, it's late."
"Oh, come on," Fallon whined, finally getting herself under control as Kirby picked herself up from the bed and grabbed her sweater, beginning to pull it over her head. "Stay the night."
"You seem to be feeling fine," Kirby huffed. "I'll call you when I'm home safe."
"Fine," Fallon sighed, huffily crossing her arms despite the tiny ghost of an amused smirk on her face. "Love you."
Grabbing her bag from the floor and hiking it up onto her shoulder, Kirby rolled her eyes and made her way to the bedroom door.
"Say it back!" Fallon snapped.
"I love you too, you know that. Try to get some sleep." Kirby could already feel her heart rate calming, and felt both guilty and embarrassed for her dramatic reaction, but she had already committed to leaving - and it really was getting late. There was still a curfew in effect - which she had already missed, intending to sleep over at Fallon's - so she would need to head home quickly if she wanted to avoid getting into trouble.
The next morning, Liam texted Kirby to let her know that he would be picking her up. He'd taken a break from it while his mom had insisted on driving him herself - she was convinced that he was going to be kidnapped in broad daylight and dragged into the forest to be murdered.
Despite her kiss with Fallon the previous night, Kirby felt excited to see Liam again. They'd only really seen each other in class, and he'd seemed distracted on top of needing to focus on his class work, so the idea of getting to spend some time together on their walk and maybe catch up felt like a breath of fresh air.
She'd barely texted back to confirm that she was looking forward to it when he texted her a second time - this time a link, to an article updating on Evan Tate's disappearance.
Only scanning the headline and the subline, Kirby felt an uneasy churning in her stomach. It felt like guilt, but she knew it had to just be regular nausea.
Apparently, they'd found so much blood that they had no choice but to confirm that he was dead, despite not having found a body yet. The line was cut off in the middle of a sentence about how it was likely the work of the forest wildlife, but with a quick glance at the clock, Kirby realized that she didn't have the time to read the article and finish getting ready before Liam arrived.
Managing to throw together an outfit and even grab a cup of coffee before Liam arrived, Kirby realized that Fallon hadn't phoned her - a sure sign that she was probably not going to be at school that day. She had been looking pretty rough the night before, and after their kiss, Kirby wasn't complaining that she would have at least one day to cool off before seeing Fallon again.
Her walk with Liam was quieter than usual, but he did seem to be in slightly better spirits than he had been for the last few days.
"Did you get to read that link that I sent you?" Liam asked, as they approached the lawn of the school.
"I haven't opened it. You want to paraphrase?" Kirby felt the cool autumn breeze nipping at the knuckles of her hand that was linked with his and resisted the urge to let go of him and shove her hand into her pocket.
"I guess they found some of Evan's clothes just… soaked in blood. It's not likely that he's running around naked and half-empty. They think it was wolves."
"Not the apparent serial killer slash cannibal we have running around?" Kirby asked.
"Hard to say, without a body," Liam shrugged.
The doors opened to a flood of noise, whispers so thick that there was almost no point in people trying to keep their tones hushed. Posters from the upcoming search party were all taken down, and the glass case that housed the memorial for Culhane was open, and being compacted as if to make room for another section.
"I have Calc with Trixie, do you think she's going to show up?" Liam asked, glancing over at Kirby.
"Probably not," she breathed, finally letting go of his hand as they approached her locker.
"Where's Fallon, today?"
"Sick, I think. She looked pretty rough last night."
Reminding herself of the night before only sent images flooding into her mind, and she guiltily tried to squash them away. Liam smiled obliviously, if not a little sympathetically.
"Ah. I'm going to go drop off my pictures for yearbook. I'll see you in Chemistry?"
He leaned in to kiss her in parting, and she quickly returned it, reminding herself how routine it was. He was her boyfriend, and she loved him.
Too distracted to pay attention in her first period Math class, Kirby settled in at her spot and discreetly pulled out her phone, clicking the article link that Liam had sent her and scanning it for more information.
Liam's paraphrasing had been pretty spot-on, she realized, only pausing as she scrolled by one of the photos from the scene.
Blood shocked the dull scenery around it, so heavy and gruesome that it looked like it had been poured out of a bucket rather than a person. Bright red against the frosty greys and browns of the leaves on the ground, it was broken up by torn pieces of clothing - Liam had been right, and so had Fallon - there was no way that Evan was still alive out there.
The next photo was worse than the first - what was very clearly some kind of human tissue was stuck to the bloody torn leg of a pair of jeans, laying haphazardly across Evan's jacket.
The sight of it made her heart ache for a moment. It was practically his signature piece - Kirby had never been particularly close with Evan, but he'd been wearing it almost every time she'd seen him. In fact, he'd wrapped it around her like a shock blanket, the night that he'd rescued her after she'd crashed Fallon's car.
No - that wasn't right; he couldn't have.
That was the last time that he'd been seen alive as far as anyone knew, and she wouldn't have had a chance to return it to him between him dropping her off and going into the forest to meet his demise.
When had she given it back to him?
Frowning, Kirby stared off into space and racked her brain for a moment, nearly falling over herself to get out of her seat when the dismissal bell startled her.
She rushed to meet Liam, and the lab presentations in their Chemistry class kept her mind busy and free from the gruesome images from the news site for another hour.
She knew it wasn't fair, but Kirby felt excited about her third period Lit class for the majority of second period, but just as the bell rang, she remembered that Fallon was out sick for the day. Reminding herself that this was a good thing, that they needed a day apart to cool down, Kirby tried her best not to feel too let down and focus on the new material being introduced.
New books were always exciting. Kirby found it easy to get ahead in her reading-centric classes, as whatever class-assigned book she had in her bag at any given time was usually a good way to kill time between studying.
As the box at the front of the room was opened and every row was handed a stack, Kirby reached out for the student at the table in front of her to hand her two copies - she would bring Fallon hers, later - and flipped it over to admire the cover.
Glen Duncan's The Last Werewolf sat innocently in her hands, its shiny soft cover gleaming in the normally unflattering fluorescent lights from above.
" The Last Werewolf explores both the usual theme of transformation, man versus self, and also themes of changing times, technological advances, and adapting to modern life." The teacher's voice caught Kirby's attention and she looked up again, watching as he listed the themes on the blackboard. "I want everyone to have read up to and including chapter four, for Monday, please - there will be a discussion, and participation is part of your grade."
A collective groan filled the room, but Kirby quickly snapped her copy open and scanned the first page thoughtfully. She was barely through the first page when a whispered conversation from the table behind her distracted her.
"I heard they found all of his organs and they'd been rearranged like it was some kind of cult ritual."
"Where did you hear that?"
"I don't know, I just heard it."
"Well I heard that he faked his death and ran away because his mom is such a psycho."
"His mom is not a psycho."
"Of course she is, look at how Trixie turned out."
Kirby was about to whirl around in her seat and interrupt, when something snapped inside of her at their next words.
"I heard he went looking for Fallon Carrington and she was at home the entire time. Talk about crying wolf."
Glancing at the book in her hands again, a high ringing began in Kirby's ears, and she saw black spots in her vision.
She knew exactly where she'd last seen Evan's jacket. When Fallon had taken it from her, the night of the accident, and then vanished into the dark with it. Fallon had seen Evan after he'd gone looking for her - she had to.
Fallon being the last person to see Evan alive was one thing, but Fallon being the last person to see Evan alive and then lie about it was something else entirely.
"Ladies, quiet in the back row, please." Kirby's gaze flickered from the book in her hands to the blackboard once more as the teacher continued.
"As I was saying, one of the most common themes in werewolf stories is man versus self - grappling with one's own beastliness while growing weary of trying to continue maintaining human appearance. If fighting off the inner monster is impossible, then why continue at all? Do we all have a real moral compass, or are we instinctively animals, dressing up and forcing a facade of civilized behaviour?"
Raising her hand, Kirby stood up from her seat, gathering up both her and Fallon's copies of the book.
"Yes, Ms. Anders?"
"I need to be excused."
She barely waited for a confirmation before rushing out the door, ignoring the suspicious whispers from her classmates left in her wake.
Promising the housekeeper that Fallon was expecting her, Kirby rushed inside of the Carrington house and up the stairs, all but kicking Fallon's bedroom door down.
She looked much better than she had the night before. She was glowing, and had actually managed to do her hair and makeup despite not having anywhere to be that day. Fixing Kirby with an alarmed, if not annoyed look, Fallon dropped the magazine she was reading and snapped:
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"I know exactly what is going on!" Kirby insisted, marching closer to the bed and shoving Fallon's copy of The Last Werewolf at her. "You'd better start talking."
"Is this for Lit?" The brunette asked, seemingly unbothered by the accusation. She glanced down at the floor and sighed. "And are you wearing your dirty fuckin' shoes on my carpet?"
"What?" Kirby glanced down at herself. "Oh. Shit. Sorry."
"Now, what exactly am I supposed to be talking about?" Fallon asked, putting the magazine aside as Kirby toed off her shoes and then patting the bed next to her for her to sit down.
She stood her ground, though, pointing accusingly.
"I know what you've been doing. And I know why."
"What have I been doing, then?" Fallon looked up at her innocently, tilting her head to the side.
"I know you're the serial killer in the forest. I know you killed Evan, and… and…" Kirby felt some kind of new knowledge tingling in the front of her mind, and choked back a dry sob at the realization: "I know you killed Culhane."
How? How did she know that?
Fallon stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing scrutinizingly before rolling them as she groaned softly.
"Fine."
"Fine?" Kirby spluttered.
"Yeah, fine. You caught me. Congratulations, Whorelock, you cracked the case."
"W-what?"
"I did it?" Fallon confirmed, raising an eyebrow in annoyance. "I did it. I killed Evan. I killed Culhane. I killed that little pervert from MGH."
Kirby had almost completely forgotten about the freshman.
"So, let's hear the theory." Fallon's tone was smug, and something about it was almost calming. If she wasn't worried about herself, why did Kirby need to be worried for her?
"What do you mean?"
"Why I did it. You said you knew. I want to hear it."
"Because you're… I don't know how it happened, but I know something went down that night after the carnival. You were injured, and then all of this started. And then in class today, we were talking about how -"
Fallon turned the book that Kirby had given her over in her hands and scanned the cover quickly, then cut Kirby off with a loud, genuine laugh.
"Oh my god, no." Fallon's voice was mocking. It reminded Kirby of some long-forgotten childhood feeling, and she felt squirmy and embarrassed. "No goddamn way did you run over here, all breathless and cinematic and whatever, to accuse me of being a werewolf."
"Well, I…"
"No. Jesus, Kirby, you idiot, werewolves aren't real. Sit down." Fallon sighed, tossing the book aside and patting the spot on the bed beside herself again. When Kirby hesitated, she growled more insistently. "Sit."
Quickly climbing onto the bed beside the other girl, the two of them faced on another and Fallon flipped her hair back over her shoulders, crossing her legs.
"Okay. I know you're my best friend, and I love you, and we tell each other everything, and I sooooo owe you one for keeping it from you, but I'm sorry. I just couldn't really find the right time, and everything was going so well between us, but… fine. Are you ready? I'm going to tell you what really happened that night."