The Secrets of Lily Graves by Sarah Strohmeyer Page A

setup.”
    Of course she did. Everything Erin had was prettier, smarter, newer, and better. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have a chichi inground pool. But if you don’t want to go to the quarry, that’s okay. I’ll go alone.” I stood and gathered my stuff.
    â€œYou can’t go alone,” he said, sitting up. “It’s in the middle of nowhere. What if you hurt yourself? Or . . . whatever.”
    â€œThen it’ll be on your conscience because you were too chicken to go.”
    A half hour later, Matt’s truck was kicking up dust as we exited onto a dirt road that ran through a field of weeds, conquering a swath of industrialized destruction. We bounced over ruts and ditches, past discarded white fuel tanks and rusted barrels, to thebroken chain-link fence. Matt boldly parked in front of a WARNING ! TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED sign that had been shot through with BBs.
    My stomach knotted. Maybe this was a mistake after all.
    â€œI thought you were cool with this,” Matt said, getting out.
    â€œI am. Just that . . .” I pointed to the signs.
    â€œNo sweat. Jacks and I have been here a million times and never gotten caught.” He found the break in the fence and held it wide for me to go through.
    I ducked under his arm. “To go swimming?”
    â€œUm, no. Other stuff.”
    I chose not to think about what he’d been up to, or how the mustard-yellow DANGER ! DEEP QUARRY ! KEEP OUT ! had triggered a burst of jitters in my gut. This had been my idea. Now was not the time to be a wuss.
    We wound our way through the grass. Here and there were charcoal circles of extinguished fires littered with faded beer cans and melted packs of Marlboros. I dared not take off my sandals lest I step on broken glass or, God forbid, used condoms.
    When we got to the edge, I let out a gasp. This was a more precarious drop than I remembered from coming here with Boo, and I wondered if she’d taken meto a different jumping-off point, since this had to be at least twenty feet straight down. The dark water below was surrounded by steep cliffs and jagged rocks striated with gashes left over from mining. Also, the slate surface was fragile. A scrape of your toe could cause it to crumble to bits.
    â€œPiece of cake.” Matt swallowed. A bead of perspiration dribbled from his temple past his jaw.
    â€œDon’t be a weenie,” I bluffed, stepping out of my tan skirt and sandals. After removing my skull ring, pentagram necklace, and other jewelry, dropping them onto my skirt lying in the grass, I was practically naked aside from a black tank and underwear—bikini-style Dora the Explorer panties I’d bought for the irony. Sara had given me a raft of grief that morning when I was getting dressed after spending the night at her house.
    â€œI’m not sure that’s an area of the body Dora should be exploring,” she’d said, laughing.
    â€œAt least it’s not days of the week,” I countered weakly, since Sara knew I had a set of those, too.
    Matt didn’t seem to notice, however. He just put his hands on his hips and boldly nodded in approval. “Yes, it’s all going according to plan.”
    â€œShut up. You’re next.”
    He ripped off his shirt to reveal a pair of stripedboxers peeking over the edge of his khaki shorts. I was surprised that his shoulders were so smooth, almost as if they’d been oiled.
    â€œDo I pass?” he asked, spreading his arms wide.
    My stomach flipped. “In a pinch,” I said breezily. “So, who goes first?”
    He reached in his pocket, threw his wallet on the ground—“Glad I remembered that!”—and found a quarter. He tossed it up and smacked it onto the back of his hand. “Heads or tails?”
    â€œHeads.”
    George Washington sparkled in the sun. Great.
    No going back now, I thought, inching to the edge. The dark water below was