Page 72 of Beach Bodies

‘Sorry.’ I smile slowly, with an embarrassed little laugh, as though I feel bad for my outburst. ‘I didn’t mean to freak out on you. You know what? I’d love to do that TikTok.’

‘Oh!’ She seems taken aback, but in a good way. ‘OK. Amazing! And Lily– you’ve done so much for the Riovan. I know it, and Vic knows it too. Thank you for understanding. It’s not personal, you know!’

‘Of course!’ I smile even wider. ‘I get it. It’s just business.’Just like what I’m going to do to you.‘So we could do the video really early tomorrow morning? Maybe shoot it on that jetty? It’s so pretty out there…’

‘Oooh, I love it!’ She shimmies in her chair. ‘Yes, that would be perfect.’

We make our plans to meet before sunrise, and I return to the bar with my nearly finished drink, still buzzing, but not in the soft, golden way from before. I scan for Daniel, but he’s disappeared. All for the best. I can’t worry about him right now, in case it gives me cold feet. Nope, we’re all systems go. I’m off to bed now. I need my wits about me for tomorrow.

I leave the Sunset with no fanfare– everyone is having so much fun, they don’t notice my departure, and that’s just fine with me.

As I take my usual rocky path to Vista West, inevitably, I start thinking about Jess again. This is my last year in the place that destroyed us. Earlier today, on the beach, after saving Herb, I thought I could wait another year to kill. Now I see I was just repeating an old mistake. I waited to get engaged when I should have proposed right away. Waited to get married when I could have just whisked Jessica to Vegas. If I’d taken my shot, Jessica could have been mine– legally, in the eyes of the doctors, her family, the world. But I hesitated.

How could I tell myself earlier that good things come to those who wait? It’s bullshit. I can’t believe I was about to make the same mistake that ruined my life and Jessica’s five years ago. But I’m recentred now.

All good things to those whotakethem.

I repeat it like a mantra, whipping it into my brain over and over as I snap my elastic until it’s all I can hear, all I can feel.

All good things to those who take them.

All good things to those who take them.

Time to take one final life.

Chapter Twenty-five

I wake before dawn.

The room is grey, as though the reality has been sucked out of it, and for a few seconds I just lie in bed, listening to River’s snores and the whoosh-whoosh of the air conditioner pumping out chilly air.

Today, I’m going to kill Serena Victoria.

A spike of panic in my chest follows this thought, as if I’ve been impaled through the heart, fixing me to the mattress.

Then the sharpness softens, washing out like a wave into a deafening numbness, like the drone of a bee swarm.

My pulse slows, my body calms. That’s when I move, swinging my legs out of the bed and padding to the bathroom.

I turn on the sink, splash water on my face. Pull my hair back. I don’t need make-up; we won’t be doing that TikTok.

Back in the bedroom, I quietly pull on a pair of joggers and a tank top, marvelling that these are my legs, going into the pants. These are my arms, poking through the sleeves.

I remember this feeling all too well. I’ve always imagined it’s like putting on a space helmet. Protecting yourself behinda glass visor from an atmosphere that could kill you if you tried to breathe it in.

I first had it back in fourth-grade theatre club. Mr Arnold, the theatre teacher, gave me a small but heartfelt talking part inHello, Ohio!I practised my lines night and day, so excited for my big debut. The night of the performance, I walked out on stage. The lights were hot. I could feel the eyes on me and, like someone flipped a switch, my body turned to lead. There was no way I could move, much less say my lines. And then, a buzzing washed through me, a white noise like a crashing ocean that deadened everything else. I walked to my spot on the stage and said my part. I could barely hear myself speak the lines above the buzzing, but I could feel the vibration of the words leaving my throat, their tickly whisper as they left my lips, the muscles in my face working to do the facial expressions I’d practised over and over.

It was a triumph. Mr Arnold had tears in his eyes. Mom gave me flowers and hugged me and said, ‘I had no idea you were so gifted! My budding actress!’ The principal even shook my hand.

But all along, I kept to myself the disappointing truth: that I hadn’t enjoyed the moment. Hadn’t even really been there for it. It had been…nothing.

I didn’t sign up for theatre again.

Outside the hotel, the early morning air is chilly and moist. I shiver and briefly wish I’d brought a sweatshirt as I head to the path leading to the beach where Serena and I planned on meeting.

I see her taut silhouette in the distance, standing still facing the beach, dressed in dark, form-fitting athletic wear.I wonder what she’s thinking. If she has any instinct that this will be the last time she sees the sun rise.

‘Hey, Lily,’ she says once I’m near. Her voice is perky, as if she’s been up for hours, and she’s carrying a big thermos. ‘Ready?’

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