Poor Little Dead Girls by Lizzie Friend Page B

voice was in her ear, and just as she was fading away she heard his last words: “Congratulations, Sadie Marlowe. You passed.”
    She snoozed her alarm clock until the last possible moment, then slowly dragged herself out of bed. Black spots crowded her vision, and she steadied herself on her desk until the room stopped spinning. As she trudged past the twins’ full-length mirror, she caught sight of her dark, puffy eyes and pasty skin. This was going to be the worst practice ever.
    The dining room was completely empty except for the group of girls at the lacrosse table. They were all in their practice uniforms — black, pleated skirts and the green tank tops they had worn Thursday at dinner. Sadie glanced down at her rumpled outfit and resisted the urge to walk back upstairs and go back to bed.
    Instead, she plopped down at the table next to Jessica, who looked like she had rolled right out of bed and directly into her chair. Her hair was mussed, as if she had slept in her ponytail, and she peered grumpily down at her oatmeal through sleepy little slits. Sadie scanned the faces across the table. Brett’s red hair was flawlessly French braided, but she had dark bags under her eyes.
    Jessica looked up at Sadie and paused, a spoonful of oatmeal poised inches from her mouth. “Yikes. Exactly how long did you spend fantasizing about you-know-who last night? You look like you slept for, like, two minutes.”
    Sadie glanced around the table, but no one seemed to have heard. She cleared her throat loudly. “I don’t know, Jess. For some reason I just couldn’t sleep.”
    Most of the girls glanced at her with bored looks on their faces, but Brett kept her head down, staring intently at a grapefruit half like it was about to tell her the cure for cancer.
    “It’s okay, today’s just a practice. You’ll get through it,” Grace offered.
    Sadie forced herself to smile. “Thanks, Grace.”
    Jessica nudged her elbow as the servers finished setting her place. “Food’ll help.” She grinned. “You’re going to need a lot of it.”
    In response, Sadie’s stomach growled, and suddenly a big, greasy meal sounded like the best thing in the world. She trudged up to the buffet and filled a plate with heaping servings, stacking bacon on top of her scrambled eggs once it got too full. She was still angry, but at least the shot of saturated fat would help her think straight. She plunked the delicate china back down on the table and started shoveling.
    “I hope you girls are ready for this,” Thayer sang, sidling up behind them with Charlotte and two other seniors in tow. The girls drew back chairs, sending loud screeching noises through the silent room. Thayer sat down, her gaze crawling over their plates from one end of the table to the other.
    “You all must be hungry,” she said lightly. “I could never eat something so heavy before a practice.” She tossed her thick ponytail over her shoulder, whipping a sophomore in the face in the process. “But maybe that’s just me.”
    Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw Grace slowly put down her fork. Sadie picked up a strip of bacon and crunched into it loudly, chewing slowly with her eyes locked on Thayer’s. Thayer met her gaze, and the corner of her lip curled up in a cold, knowing smile. Sadie stared back, but Thayer just blinked and smiled wider. Apparently they were going to pretend nothing had ever happened, and for now, Sadie could live with that. As long as Thayer and her creepy friends left her alone.
    As Thayer and the others headed toward the buffet in search of egg whites, Sadie popped the last piece of bacon in her mouth and stood up. Seeing Thayer had sharpened her anger all over again, and now she could feel it stabbing her from the inside out. She looked over at Brett, Grace, and Jessica and arranged her features into a smile. “Want to head out early and warm up?”

    “Line it up, ladies!” Coach Fitz bellowed, blowing her whistle in three short blasts.