Tragedy Girl by Christine Hurley Deriso

argument she made last night on the phone yet shaken enough to regurgitate the precious little information we have at hand. “Why would she care who Jamie’s dating?”
    I rest my chin on my knuckles. “You said yourself she likes to call dibs on all the guys—that even if they’re not interested in her, she doesn’t want them being interested in anybody else, either,” I say. “And Jamie’s transformation into a stud surely hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
    Melanie stops pacing and catches my eye. “That means it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Blake, either.”
    My eyebrows crinkle. “What do you mean?”
    Melanie taps her index finger against her thigh. “Jamie was always a little nobody, just Blake’s hanger-on. His wannabe. Maybe Blake’s not taking it so well that Jamie’s finally getting some attention.”
    “What? How insecure do you think Blake is? Besides, guys don’t even care about that kind of stuff, do they? And, uh, there’s that little detail of Blake being with us all night … including when the letter was placed in your mailbox.”
    “I mean, he could have had somebody put it there for him … ” Melanie says, then glances at me for a quick sensitivity check. She walks over and sits next to me on the floor. “Hey, Anne, I’m not ragging on Blake. I think he’s a really nice guy, and I agree, this doesn’t seem like a guy move at all. I’m just trying to think everything through. And like you’ve been saying, there’s some heavy-duty tension between Blake and Jamie these days.”
    Melanie’s mom creaks open the door and peeks in. “You girls doing okay?” she asks. Melanie nods impatiently, prompting her mother to close the door again and leave us alone.
    “Blake explained that to me last night,” I say. “He thinks Jamie blames him for not saving Cara, or, I don’t know, not trying harder … something like that. But he thinks Jamie is mostly just mad at himself. There’s a lot of guilt there. Both of them feel guilty.”
    Melanie nods. “I know. I feel like Jamie and I are getting along okay, but there’s a wall there, you know? He just seems so … wounded.”
    I peer into space. “I just thought of something else weird.”
    “What?” Melanie prods.
    “It’s probably nothing, but … do you think Lauren and Garrett are pissed that they weren’t invited last night?”
    Melanie contemplates the question. “It’s possible. Lauren actually had fun with Garrett Friday night—at least when Natalie wasn’t spazzing out on us. She was hoping he would ask her out, but she thinks the chances are low. She said he doesn’t seem interested. He seems kinda … preoccupied. Like Jamie. I guess that girl’s drowning really did a number on everybody.”
    “Speaking of Friday night,” I say. “After the bonfire? Garrett was in the car when Blake walked me to the door. We … kissed. And when I pulled away, I saw Garrett looking at me. He looked … I dunno, worried, or concerned or something. It kind of creeped me out. The look in his eyes … it was really intense.”
    “You think Garrett planted the note?” Melanie asks. “But again, that theory leads back to Blake , not Jamie.”
    I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.”
    Melanie taps her fingertips on the carpet. “I can’t help thinking it has something to do with the dead girl.”
    We sit there for a moment, then Melanie’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “Maybe it was the dead girl,” she says. “The one whose body was never found?”
    Whatever expression I get on my face makes Melanie wince. “Oh, right … too soon for dead-girl jokes. Sorry.”
    We sit quietly for another minute, and then I ask, “So, are you going to tell Jamie about the letter?”
    Melanie shrugs. “I don’t even know if he’ll ask me out again. Like I said, he acts awfully … distracted. Hey, maybe he slipped me the note. I guess that’s one way to dump somebody.”
    “Blake mentioned the four of us going out