The Graduation by Pike Christopher

Author:Pike, Christopher [Pike, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Crime, Young Adult, Final Friends
ISBN: 9780671019273
Google: nBcIAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0671019279
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 1998-02-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Polly lay soaking in the steaming tub, staring at her naked body. Her figure was fabulous. She had large firm breasts, a narrow waist, smooth wrinkle-free thighs, and soft creamy skin. Any normal guy, she thought miserably, would have been happy to climb into the tub with her.

The door to the bathroom lay wide open. Clark prowled the room beyond. In the last half hour, he hadn’t so much as peeked in. She didn’t understand it.

Polly was, however, grateful for the room. Sara had done her a good turn in that regard—for once. Polly didn’t know if she could have stood a whole night partying with people who didn’t like her. She knew they didn’t. She’d known it all along, actually, although she had never understood that, either. She wasn’t a bad person. She had been sort of fat once, but now she had a nice body. You’d think they’d want to talk to her more often. The last few months at school, hardly anyone had talked to her. They’d avoided her as if she’d had the plague. She’d had bad luck, true, but a lot of people had bad luck. She wasn’t alone in that respect. In fact, a lot of people on this stupid boat were unlucky.

They couldn’t have imagined how unlucky they were.

Polly had left the hot water in the tub running in a trickle. A drain prevented the water from overflowing. It was an old trick; it kept the water always hot. She liked it that way, so hot her skin turned cardinal red whenever she took a bath. She’d first learned the trick in a book she had read on the Mafia. It seemed that whenever a mob member got thrown in jail for life, his buddies on the outside would provide for his family if he’d take a hot bath and slit his wrists. Those mob guys were always afraid that anybody in jail would eventually break down and talk. The hot water was important; supposedly when you bled to death, you got real cold, and then nauseated. A good bath made the whole experience much more comfortable. Leaving the water trickling was the key; if you sat all night in a tub with the hot-water faucet turned on a little and your wrists slit, in the morning most of the blood would be gone. No vomit, no blood, and naked as a babe. When Polly thought about it, she imagined it wasn’t such a bad way to go. Much better than, say, being trapped in a room overflowing with icy seawater.

An open razor blade rested on the soap tray next to Polly’s head. She picked it up and let the overhead light reflect off the sharp edge into her eyes. White light, star bright. Sitting up, she transferred the blade into her left hand. Like Alice, she was left-handed. Some things ran in the family.

Like bad luck.

“You should have gotten the paper cups when I told you the first time.” Polly whispered, taking the blade and pressing the tip into her right wrist.

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