hell out.”
“Faccelli.” The word falls from Alice’s mouth and sits on the table. It is just a word, but Rabbit knows his sister well enough to understand she is saying she is not amused.
“Jill Faccelli? You know, the
actual
prodigy at this festival?” Violet gives Jennifer’s ribs a playful dig with her elbow. “Your brother started the rebellion, and Jill finished it by walking out of rehearsal.”
“I know who Jill Faccelli is.” Alice clears her throat. “
Jelly
is a friend of mine. She’s my
roommate
.”
“Well . . .
Jelly
is having a terrible day.” Jennifer lets out a snort of laughter. Violet and Harrison join her. Rabbit can’t quite, because he knows that Alice’s pride has been wounded—and then he suddenly finds that he
can
laugh. The whole time Alice was babbling on about her roommate and her drama and her
self,
she was talking about the girl with the dark ponytail who ditched rehearsal—the very girl Rabbit had a story to tell her about, if she had shut up long enough for him to tell it. It’s kind of funny. It’s really kind of funny, and Rabbit laughs out loud too.
He feels his twin draw into herself, diminished. He swallows a few final laughs.
“Oh, come on, we’re just taking the piss,” Jennifer says, and takes another gulp of the pink stuff.
“What are you, a Spice Girl?” Alice says.
Violet rolls her eyes. “Anyway. Are we doing this thing tonight? This haunted party thing?” She’s asking Harrison, but she’s not being secretive, and Rabbit likes her for this. He likes her even better when she addresses the whole table and says, “If you’re not busy later, we’re getting together in Harrison’s room. Five-thirty-three. You should stop by.”
Chastity’s earrings jingle uncontrollably as she nods in the affirmative, and Chrissy, sensing Alice’s stock plummeting, chimes in that she’d love to go. Alice crosses her arms over her chest.
“Haunted?” she says. “Wasn’t Halloween last month?”
“So you don’t know about the
hotel
either?” Jennifer says snottily. Rabbit is beginning to rethink his urge to kiss her. “I thought you said you’d been here before.”
“I
have
—”
“The hotel is haunted.
Actually
haunted.” Violet—Nice Violet, Rabbit has decided to name her—props her elbows on the table, blocking Jennifer from another retort. “Back in the eighties, on her wedding day, a girl hanged herself after blasting her husband to hell with a shotgun. Happened right in the hotel. She’s the most famous ghost here, but, like, have you seen
The Shining
? And have you walked around upstairs by yourself? This place is
creepy
. Ghosts up to here.” She holds her palm flat above her eyes. “This weekend is their anniversary. Of their wedding
and
of their deaths.”
“Harrison has a Ouija board,” Jennifer says.
“How do
you
know about this?” Alice asks. She’s uncrossed her arms but Rabbit can tell she is still deeply annoyed—at Jennifer, and at him. The latter is a new feeling, and not entirely unpleasant. “Sounds like the kind of bullshit kids tell each other on the playground. You know, Pop Rocks and Coke killed Paul from
The Wonder Years.
My mom bought a cactus from Pier One and it exploded into a thousand baby spiders.”
“It probably
is
total bullshit. But where’s the fun in that?” Nice Violet says. She pushes back from the table. “I’m gonna get dessert to go. Everyone—around nine, nine-thirty, room five-thirty-three. BYO.” She scrunches her nose at him. “See you later, Bad Rabbit.”
Alice has pushed her own chair back and stood before Rabbit notices she’s moved. “I’m not feeling so great,” she says, addressing no one in particular. “This food is terrible. I’ll see you later.”
Rabbit is not the same person who woke up in Ruby Falls this morning, in his childhood bed with its blue-and-green-striped sheets.
That
Rabbit would have leapt to his sister’s side without thought.
This
Rabbit
“Faccelli.” The word falls from Alice’s mouth and sits on the table. It is just a word, but Rabbit knows his sister well enough to understand she is saying she is not amused.
“Jill Faccelli? You know, the
actual
prodigy at this festival?” Violet gives Jennifer’s ribs a playful dig with her elbow. “Your brother started the rebellion, and Jill finished it by walking out of rehearsal.”
“I know who Jill Faccelli is.” Alice clears her throat. “
Jelly
is a friend of mine. She’s my
roommate
.”
“Well . . .
Jelly
is having a terrible day.” Jennifer lets out a snort of laughter. Violet and Harrison join her. Rabbit can’t quite, because he knows that Alice’s pride has been wounded—and then he suddenly finds that he
can
laugh. The whole time Alice was babbling on about her roommate and her drama and her
self,
she was talking about the girl with the dark ponytail who ditched rehearsal—the very girl Rabbit had a story to tell her about, if she had shut up long enough for him to tell it. It’s kind of funny. It’s really kind of funny, and Rabbit laughs out loud too.
He feels his twin draw into herself, diminished. He swallows a few final laughs.
“Oh, come on, we’re just taking the piss,” Jennifer says, and takes another gulp of the pink stuff.
“What are you, a Spice Girl?” Alice says.
Violet rolls her eyes. “Anyway. Are we doing this thing tonight? This haunted party thing?” She’s asking Harrison, but she’s not being secretive, and Rabbit likes her for this. He likes her even better when she addresses the whole table and says, “If you’re not busy later, we’re getting together in Harrison’s room. Five-thirty-three. You should stop by.”
Chastity’s earrings jingle uncontrollably as she nods in the affirmative, and Chrissy, sensing Alice’s stock plummeting, chimes in that she’d love to go. Alice crosses her arms over her chest.
“Haunted?” she says. “Wasn’t Halloween last month?”
“So you don’t know about the
hotel
either?” Jennifer says snottily. Rabbit is beginning to rethink his urge to kiss her. “I thought you said you’d been here before.”
“I
have
—”
“The hotel is haunted.
Actually
haunted.” Violet—Nice Violet, Rabbit has decided to name her—props her elbows on the table, blocking Jennifer from another retort. “Back in the eighties, on her wedding day, a girl hanged herself after blasting her husband to hell with a shotgun. Happened right in the hotel. She’s the most famous ghost here, but, like, have you seen
The Shining
? And have you walked around upstairs by yourself? This place is
creepy
. Ghosts up to here.” She holds her palm flat above her eyes. “This weekend is their anniversary. Of their wedding
and
of their deaths.”
“Harrison has a Ouija board,” Jennifer says.
“How do
you
know about this?” Alice asks. She’s uncrossed her arms but Rabbit can tell she is still deeply annoyed—at Jennifer, and at him. The latter is a new feeling, and not entirely unpleasant. “Sounds like the kind of bullshit kids tell each other on the playground. You know, Pop Rocks and Coke killed Paul from
The Wonder Years.
My mom bought a cactus from Pier One and it exploded into a thousand baby spiders.”
“It probably
is
total bullshit. But where’s the fun in that?” Nice Violet says. She pushes back from the table. “I’m gonna get dessert to go. Everyone—around nine, nine-thirty, room five-thirty-three. BYO.” She scrunches her nose at him. “See you later, Bad Rabbit.”
Alice has pushed her own chair back and stood before Rabbit notices she’s moved. “I’m not feeling so great,” she says, addressing no one in particular. “This food is terrible. I’ll see you later.”
Rabbit is not the same person who woke up in Ruby Falls this morning, in his childhood bed with its blue-and-green-striped sheets.
That
Rabbit would have leapt to his sister’s side without thought.
This
Rabbit
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