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end and bridling at Ash’s malevolent demeanor, Shane had sped off on her bike and I was livid.
    “You cunt!” I yelled at Ash. Perhaps the first time in my life I had called another woman by that name. It seemed the most apt that day. “I can’t believe you think everyone is here for you. What a freakin’ narcissist you are. Just because you can fill this pool with your toadies, mostly because you’re such a whore, doesn’t mean the world revolves around you, Ashley!”
    I drew out the name like it was two different words: Ash Lee. I knew she hated her given name, long abandoning it in favor of the androgynous Ash, her favorite character from a movie, too. Calling her a whore wouldn’t bother her, but calling her by her girlish name might.
    “Listen, child, don’t kid yourself. Shane is sloppy seconds, babes. She’s only with you because she can’t have me.”
    My hand flew at her face as though on its own accord. I watched it slap her across the cheek and was certain that the shock in her eyes was mirrored in my own. I had never before raised my fist to her, and I was as surprised as she was by my reaction.
    Ash had quick reflexes and she caught my hand by the wrist before I could pull it away. “Damn, Magpie,” she sneered, using my childhood nickname to patronize me. “You want her so bad, you can have her. Shane’s a loser dope fiend I sent packing. You want my rejects, kiddo, you go right ahead.”
    “Fuck you, Ashley. Maybe you were just her practice round,” I shouted, yanking my arm from her grip. “Shane likes me for me, not me because I look like you!”
    “You trying to convince me or yourself?” Her words cut me with their accuracy.
    But I was like a runaway train and I couldn’t stop. “And we both know I sure as shit don’t act like you.”
    “Whatever.” Ash drew the word out into additional syllables. She was so blithe. Her nonchalance infuriated me and I wanted to strike out physically. But Ash had just volleyed back demeaning one-offs, as though I wasn’t even worth a full argument. And though her cheek was bright red where I’d slapped her, and it must have stung, she hadn’t even flinched. Something about that frightened me.
    Suddenly I was biting back tears. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry, so I snatched my purse from her hands and dashed off headed toward the house.
    “I wonder if she fucks like you?” I heard Cynthia say as I rushed past.
    Ash laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
    They both cackled like hens as I darted out of earshot.

Chapter Five

    I no longer cared about my sister and her little sex games. I had my own play toy in the dark, foreboding Shane. We started rendezvousing more and more, sometimes at her apartment in the city, other times at the estate, hidden in the east wing where Father and Tabitha couldn’t hear. Each encounter left me breathless in anticipation for the next.
    “What’s this one?” I was playing connect the scars on her body, languishing over every line, every mark.
    “I was playing flag football and ran into a rake.”
    “And this one? Let me guess, knife fight?”
    “Yeah, with a cantaloupe.” Shane laughed, a hearty, guttural guffaw I found intoxicating.
    “It’s my turn,” she said abruptly, flipping me over and crawling on top of me. “I want to play connect the dots on your body now.”
    I did like the sound of that, but I was barely comfortable with my naked body during sex, much less so during a game of map my flaws. “I’m not sure I have as many things to connect.”
    Would that stop her?
    “Well, let’s make it interesting then,” she said, tugging off the remainder of my clothes. “You close your eyes. When I get to something, you have to tell me where the mark came from.”
    “Okay,” I drawled, uncertain.
    “Oh, there’s one catch.” I waited, already enticed but nervous nonetheless. “I’m only going to use my tongue.”
    I felt myself getting wetter already.