As Cybill weaved off to relieve her bladder, Alice looked at Charlie, rolled her eyes. Charlie gave her a drunken what-are-you-going-to-do? shrug. Alice, shaking her head, righted the lamp and picked up her mom’s jacket, which had since been hung neatly on the back of the chair that Charlie had flung it over. Then, without quite realizing she was doing it, she began walking toward the photo she’d been looking at when they first arrived at the clubhouse. It was as if she had no choice in the matter, was being drawn irresistibly forward by a force outside herself, like her limbs were attached to invisible strings. She immediately lost herself in the image. With the tip of her finger, she traced the swell of Tommy’s forearm muscle, the muscle in his calf. He looked so happy. She couldn’t imagine that the face she’d gazed into tonight could ever look so light, so full of joy.

Who was the girl he was with? she wondered jealously. Once again, she was struck by the girl’s beauty. There was something almost black-hole-ish about it; it sucked up everything around it: the fine-cut features, the graceful body, the long blond hair, the white, white skin but white not the way Alice’s skin was white—pasty, sallow, shunned by the sun—white the way a pearl was white—shimmering, glowing, luminous. Even the way this girl wore her clothes was compelling: carelessly yet jauntily, thrusting one slim hip forward the way a fashion model would. And then there was the look in her eye, the supreme self-confidence, like she was the center of attention naturally, never having to seek it out, just taking what was hers by right. Alice could have sworn she’d seen the girl before, but where? How? It was unlikely that she’d ever run in the same circles as any of these Serenity Point kids. Maybe the girl looked like someone she knew? She decided to ask Charlie, since pretty much everyone she knew, Charlie knew, too.

“Hey,” she said to her sister, lying on the carpet now under one of the tables. “I want you to look at something.”

“How about you just describe it to me? You like to paint. Paint me a word picture.”

“Get over here.”

“The room’s kind of spinning right now. I’m afraid to walk.”

“So crawl.” When Charlie obeyed: “Does this girl look familiar to you? Like someone we know?”

Charlie staggered to her feet. Leaning in and squinting, she said, “Actually, yeah, she does a little bit.”

“Thank God. It’s been driving me crazy. Who is it that she looks like?”

“You, Allie.”