The radio blares as Quin and I head back to town. Quin rolls down the windows blasting me in the face with freezing air. I hate road trips.

“How much farther?” I ask putting my boots up on the dash.

“An hour and a half. We just started driving.” He snorts.

Our headlights shine down the empty road. Maybe we should just keep driving. If we ran off together, then maybe we could be happy. We aren’t capable of love. Bullshit. He loved Amber.

Despite the rattling bass I drift to sleep. When I wake we are pulling up in front of Other Amber’s perfect little house. There’s a white picket fence, no joke. “Does she shake her pompoms at the football games?” I snap.

Quin ignores me. “Wait in the car.”

“Hell no. Amber was my friend too. Now what’s the plan?” I ask.

He points to the far left window. “That’s her room. See the pink curtains?”

“So we break through the window. Got it.” I hop out of the car.

He follows me. “We can’t break in. We have to be careful to make her death look like a suicide.”

“So break the glass and slit her wrists with it. It’s easy.” I scoff.

He grabs my shoulder. “That’s what Our Amber thought. Don’t underestimate her.” His cold hand pulls my chin towards him. His lips press hard against mine stealing my breath.

I turn my head, and he stands there for a minute lips puckered. Then I brush past him and creep up to the window. Even though it’s below freezing he tosses me his shirt. I wrap it around my hand and punch the window. Quin boosts me up, and I kick the rest of the glass in before stepping through.

I hear the rainfall sound of the shower. Good, we have the element of surprise. But something unsettles me as I look around her bedroom. Her modern polka dotted bed is unmade. Her picture frames show pictures from middle school. Her shelves seem bland and impersonal. The room feels off.

“Is she in the shower?” Quin asks climbing in after me.

“Yeah, should we wait for her to come out or surprise attack?” I ask pulling the pocket knife from my jacket.

“Let’s go in. Her guard will be down.” He flicks open his own pocket knife.

I twist the bathroom knob and open the door silently. Steam fills the room. Perfect.

Quin stands on one side of the zebra striped shower curtain, and I stand on the other side. I hold up my fingers. One. Two. He rips the curtain open and drops his knife.

Other Amber sinks down to the ground staring up at us with bleary eyes. The water at the bottom of the shower runs red. “Are you angels?” Her voice comes out pathetic and empty.

“Where’s the blood coming from?” I ask searching for wounds.

She turns her wrists up at me revealing a deep gash on each wrist. “No,” Quin growls. He kneels down in the shower beside her and presses his hands to her wounds. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

Her dark hair falls into her face, and her head lulls. “I killed her. She looked like me. I had to kill her.”

“Why did you do it?” His voice cracks. “She was a good person.”

“That’s why I had to…I can’t live knowing.”

“No,” Quin presses his bloody hand to her face. “You have to live. Sarah, call the cops.”

Startled I stumble into Other Amber’s room and grab her banana phone off her bedside table. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“We need an ambulance to…to 4672 Music Lane. A girl attempted suicide. She lost a lot of blood.” My hands tremble as I hang up the phone.

I force myself back into the bathroom. “Are your parents home?”

She shakes her head slightly. “Home alone.” She whispers.

“Stay with me, Amber.” Tears stream down Quin’s cheeks. It’s like he’s losing her again.

I turn away and climb back through the window to get some air.

Fiction

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