The Perfectionists

Chapter 6

IT WAS SUNDAY MORNING, AND the Auradon Church was filled to capacity for Ben Florian's funeral. Mal stood at the back, tugging at the black wool slacks she'd borrowed from Evie. The air was warm and pungent, the waxy smell of candles mixing with expensive perfumes. High overhead, the gilded ceilings and ornate columns gleamed in the murky light. In front of the altar sat a glossy wooden coffin, heaped with lilies, roses, and hydrangea blossoms. The funeral was closed-casket. Mal couldn't help but wonder if that was because the marker hadn't washed off Ben's skin.

Now you're as scarred as I am, she couldn't help thinking, and then hated herself for her bitterness.

The pews were packed with kids, some sitting with their parents, others clustered with their friends. Everyone in school had turned up, especially now that the news had come out that Ben had been murdered. All sorts of theories swirled. That Ben had gotten in too deep with a bunch of drug dealers, and they'd offed him while people were partying downstairs. That Ben had stolen a Mafia don's girlfriend, and mobsters had crept through the window. That one of Mr. Florian's disgruntled employees had finally gotten his revenge. Mal herself didn't know what to think. She knew who'd drawn on Ben, but as for who killed him... It hadn't been her and the film studies girls. It couldn't have been.

Right? In the front row, Belle Florian gave a loud and anguished wail. Then Mal felt someone's hand on her arm and turned. It was Evie. "Come on," she whispered. "This is almost over. And we need to talk." She tripped over her feet as Evie pulled her out to the lawn and around the corner to the parking lot, which was deserted. The flagstones were silver from the rain. A wet chill hung on the air.

Audrey, Jane, and Uma were already waiting by an alcove lush with myrtle bushes and sedge grass. A weather-beaten statue of Saint Francis stood in the center, a bird feeder full of seeds in the palm of his hands. Evie unfolded her green-and-pink plaid umbrella, and she and Mal huddled beneath it. "Hey," they mumbled to the girls as they approached. Mal yanked her hoodie over her head. These girls were nice—they looked at her directly without staring, as though there was nothing wrong with her—but still she felt uncomfortable around them.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Audrey burst out, her voice tinged with tears. "We should stay calm," Evie said evenly, though she was gripping Mal's hand so hard Mal thought her nails might slice straight through her skin. "I mean, look. We didn't do anything. We gave him one Oxy pill—that's all. It's not enough to kill anyone. Especially not him."

"But that conversation we had." Uma's gaze flicked back and forth. "The things I said. The things we did." "I know," Mal interrupted, thinking back to that night. For hours leading up to it, she'd considered not going at all, but the temptation of getting Ben back—really getting him back—was too great. She'd slipped into the party unseen, her hoodie up over her head. She'd found Evie instantly. "Ready for this?" she'd asked her, her smile wide. Evie's smile had been much more nervous. "I think so."

They'd gone upstairs one by one. On the landing, Mal had looked down into the crowd, but no one was watching them—they were either texting, or chugging beers, or hooking up with someone. She remembered seeing Asher in the corner, flirting with a girl from Brillwood Prep, and Aria, talking to a JV player. Evie's friend Freddie was making out with a basketball player while Evie's wannabe clone, Crystal, was talking to the new guy. Mal had continued up the dark stairwell, downing a beer and dropping the cup on one of the risers.

The others joined her in the third-floor bathroom. A vase of fresh yellow asters sat on the vanity counter. Jane had looked at Uma. "You have it, right?" Uma pulled out an orange prescription bottle with her name across the top. "Yep." "How much should we give him?" Audrey asked. "Just one," Mal said knowingly, thinking back to what Ben had done to her. "It's strong, especially with booze."