Page 117 of Final Girls

“I didn’t know what to do,” Sam says. “So I called Coop.”

I suck in my breath, suddenly numb. “You didn’t tell him about the park, did you?”

Sam rolls her eyes while hissing out smoke. “Hell no. I told him that we should get to know each other better. That he should come to the city if he could. He did.”

“And you seduced him.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam says. “He was more than willing.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Sam lets out a weary sigh. She looks so tired, so defeated by life.

So utterly damaged.

“Because I thought it would help us,” she says. “You, especially. If the police are able to trace that guy’s beating back to us, we’re going to need someone on our side. Someone other than Jeff.”

“A cop,” I say, grim understanding settling over me. “One who can defend us to his colleagues. One too blinded by emotions to do the right thing and turn us in if he suspects something.”

“Bingo,” Sam says. “But you know all about that, don’t you?”

“I’ve never tried to fuck Coop.”

A snort from Sam, nostrils streaming smoke. “Like that matters. You’re still using him. For years, you’ve used him. Texting him at allhours. Beckoning him into the city at a moment’s notice. Flirting with him every now and then to keep him interested.”

“That’s not how it is,” I say. “I would never do that to him.”

“You do it all the time, Quinn. I’ve seen you do it.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Really?” Sam says. “You mean to tell me this weird, creepy thing between you two has nothing to do with what happened at Pine Cottage? That you’ve never noticed, not even the tiniest bit, that you have him wrapped around your finger?”

“I don’t,” I say.

Sam stubs out her cigarette. Lights another. “Lies, lies, lies.”

“Let’s talk about lies,” I say, pushing away from the wall, strengthened by anger. “You lied when you told me you never met Lisa. You did. You stayed at her house.”

Sam stops inhaling on the cigarette, her cheeks slightly sucked in, smoke gathering in her mouth. When she parts her lips, a grayish cloud rolls out like a fog bank.

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s not an answer,” I say. “At least admit you were there.”

“Fine. I was there.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago,” she says. “But you already knew that.”

“Why did you go? Did Lisa invite you?”

Sam shakes her head.

“So you just showed up like you did with me?”

“Yup,” Sam says. “Unlike you, she actually said hello when she realized who I was.”

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