Beautiful Malice: A Novel

From Publishers Weekly Starred Review. "I didn't go to Alice's funeral." So opens Australian author James's impressive debut, a searing coming-of-age novel that deftly intertwines two violent backstories. Studious Katherine Patterson, who's reading a book under a tree during lunchtime at her Sydney high school, is surprised when Alice Parrie, "beautiful, popular, impossible to miss," hands Katherine an invitation to her 18th birthday party. Alice draws Katherine, who has her reasons for remaining aloof from others, into an addictive relationship that fatally sours as one disturbing secret after another comes to light. James, gifted with unusual insight into teenage agonies, probes Katherine's raw-nerve guilt over her sister Rachel's murder, Alice's self-destructive narcissism, and the healing power of young love. This unflinching exploration of psychological manipulation and the tragedies it creates introduces a promising new talent in literary suspense. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Booklist Australian author James' U.S. debut speaks directly to older teens and twentysomethings. Katherine, a self-imposed outsider who narrates her own story, may be wrapped in guilt following the tragic death of her sister, but she is still recognizably 17—longing for friendship and fun, searching for love, committment, and sex. When charismatic classmate Alice befriends her, emotional baggage and all, she is surprised and enormously grateful. But as her self-confidence returns and she finds other friends and a sweet, gentle boyfriend, she begins to see her best friend in fresh light—and starts wondering if Alice is really a friend at all. A nail-biting thriller this isn't, and wouldn't be if the title wasn't an unfortunate giveaway. But the novel will be an easy sell as a beach book, and it's not hard to picture readers sympathizing with Katherine's deep-rooted need to make sense of the past and find satisfaction in the person she has become. --Stephanie Zvirin “Utterly gripping! Rebecca James is an exciting new writer.”—Cecelia Ahern xa0“[An] impressive debut . . . This unflinching exploration of psychological manipulation and the tragedies it creates introduces a promising new talent in literary suspense.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review)xa0“As the truth unfolds towards a devastating climax, no one escapes untouched. As a debut novel, one can only imagine what else Rebecca James has up her sleeve.”— Daily Mail (London)xa0“A good, suspenseful, psychological thriller . . . worthy of passing on to friends.” —The Roanoke Times “Powerfully emotional . . .xa0 a mesmerizing story.”—Wichita Falls Times News Record “Recommended for all thriller collections.”— Library Journal From the Paperback edition. Rebecca James was born in Sydney and spent her twenties teaching English in Indonesia and Japan. She currently lives in Armidale, Australia, with her partner and their four sons. She is at work on her next novel, to be published by Bantam. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One “Do you want to come?”xa0Alice Parrie is looking down, smiling. It’s lunchtime and I’m sittingxa0beneath a tree, alone, absorbed in a book.xa0“Sorry.” I shade my eyes and look up. “Come where?”xa0Alice hands me a piece of paper.xa0I take it and read. It’s a brightly colored photocopy of an invitationxa0to Alice’s eighteenth birthday party. Come one and come all!!xa0Bring your friends!! it reads. Free champagne! Free food! Onlyxa0someone as popular and as self- assured as Alice would issue such anxa0invitation; anyone more ordinary would feel as if she was beggingxa0for guests. Why me? I wonder. I know of Alice, everyone knows ofxa0Alice, but I’ve never spoken to her before. She is one of those girls—xa0beautiful, popular, impossible to miss.xa0I fold the invitation in half and nod. “I’ll try. It sounds like fun,”xa0I lie.xa0Alice looks at me for a few seconds. Then she sighs and plonksxa0herself down next to me, so close that one of her knees rests heavilyxa0against mine.xa0“You will not.” She grins.xa0I feel my cheeks begin to color. Even though my entire life canxa0sometimes feel like a façade, a wall of secrets, I’m not good at lying.xa0I look down at my lap. “Probably not.”xa0“But I want you to come, Katherine,” she says. “It’d really meanxa0a lot to me.”xa0I’m surprised that Alice even knows my name, but it’s even morexa0surprising—in fact, quite unbelievable—that she wants me to comexa0to her party. I’m practically unknown at Drummond High and havexa0no close friends. I come and go quietly, alone, and get on with myxa0studies. I try to avoid bringing attention to myself. I do well enough,xa0but my grades aren’t exceptional. I play no sport, have joined noxa0clubs. And though I know I can’t do this forever—live my entire lifexa0as a shadow—for now it’s okay. I’m hiding, I know that, I’m beingxa0a coward, but right now I need to be invisible, to be the kind of personxa0who arouses no curiosity in others. That way they never need toxa0know who I really am, or what has happened.xa0I close my book and start to pack away my lunch things.xa0“Wait.” Alice puts her hand on my knee. I look at her as coldlyxa0as I can, and she withdraws it. “I’m serious. I really do want you toxa0come. And I think what you said to Dan last week was fantastic. Ixa0really wish I could think of things like that to say, but I never can.xa0I’m just not quick enough. You know, I never would have thoughtxa0about that woman’s feelings like that. Not until I heard you tell Danxa0off. I mean, you were great, what you said was just so right, and youxa0really showed him up to be the moron that he is.”xa0I know immediately what Alice is referring to—the one and onlyxa0time I’d let my guard down, momentarily forgotten myself. I don’txa0often confront people anymore. In fact, it’s something I try veryxa0hard to avoid. But the way Dan Johnson and his friends had behavedxa0two weeks ago had disgusted me so much that I couldn’t helpxa0myself. We had a guest speaker talking about career planning andxa0college admissions. Sure, the speech was boring, we’d heard it all axa0billion times before, and the speaker was nervous and stuttered andxa0hesitated and talked in confusing circles, only becoming worse asxa0the crowd became noisier, more restless. Dan Johnson and his groupxa0of creepy friends had spotted their opportunity. They were so cruelxa0and deliberately disruptive that the woman ended up leaving in humiliatedxa0tears. When it was all over, I stood behind Dan in the hallwayxa0and tapped him on the shoulder.xa0Dan turned around with a smug, self- satisfied look on his face,xa0clearly anticipating some kind of approbation for his behavior.xa0“Did it ever occur to you,” I started, my voice surprisinglyxa0strong, fueled by anger, “how much you’ve hurt that woman? Thisxa0is her life, Daniel, her career, her professional reputation. Your patheticxa0cry for attention means a whole lot of humiliation for her. Ixa0feel sorry for you, Daniel. You must be very sad and small inside toxa0need to hurt someone like that, someone you don’t even know.”xa0“You were amazing,” Alice continues. “And to be honest, I wasxa0totally surprised. I mean, I think everyone was. No one speaks toxa0Dan like that.” She shakes her head. “No one.” Well, I do, I think. At least the real me does. “It was admirable. Courageous.”xa0And it’s that word that does it: courageous. I so want to be courageous.xa0I so want the coward in me to be obliterated and smashedxa0and destroyed that I can no longer resist Alice.xa0I stand up and hook my bag over my shoulder. “Okay,” I say, surprisingxa0myself. “Okay, I’ll come.”xa0Chapter TwoAlice insists that we get ready for the party together. She picks mexa0up in her car, a battered old Volkswagen, shortly after lunch on thexa0day of the party and takes me to her place. She lives alone, she tellsxa0me as she speeds along, weaving in and out of lanes, in a onebedroomxa0apartment in the inner city. I’m surprised by this, astonishedxa0really. I’d imagined that someone like Alice would live in axa0comfortable house in the suburbs with her devoted parents. I’dxa0imagined her being spoiled, pampered, coddled (just as I used to be),xa0and the fact that she lives alone makes her suddenly seem more interesting,xa0more complicated than I’ve given her credit for. It’s clearxa0that Alice and I have more in common than I’d imagined.xa0I want to ask her a million questions: Where are her parents?xa0How does she afford her own apartment? Is she ever afraid? Is shexa0lonely? But I keep quiet. I have secrets of my own. I’ve learned thatxa0asking questions only puts me at risk of being interrogated myself. Itxa0is safer not to be too curious about others, safer not to ask.xa0Her apartment is in a square, very ordinary- looking brick building. The stairwell is dark and uninviting, but when we get to herxa0apartment, breathless after jogging up four flights of stairs, shexa0opens the door to a room full of color and warmth.xa0The walls are a deep burnt orange and are decorated with large,xa0bright abstract paintings. Two enormous, soft- looking couches arexa0draped with burgundy fabric and strewn with colorful African cushions.xa0Unlit candles cover every horizontal surface.xa0“Voilà! My humble abode.” Alice tugs me inside and watches myxa0face expectantly as I look around the room. “What do you think? Ixa0did it all myself, you know. You should have seen it when I movedxa0in, so boring and plain. It’s amazing what a bit of color can do to axa0room, isn’t it? A little creativity and some bright paint is all youxa0really need.”xa0“This is so cool,” I say. And I can’t help but feel a little envious.xa0Alice’s space is so funky, so much younger than the modern, minimalistxa0apartment I live in.xa0“Really? You really like it?”xa0“Yes.” I laugh. “I really do.”xa0“I’m so glad. I want you to like it as much as I do because I planxa0for us to spend a lot of time together. And I can see us spending a lotxa0of time right here, in this room, talking and talking and talking,xa0sharing our precious secrets deep into the night.”xa0I’ve heard that charming, powerful people have the knack ofxa0making you feel as though you’re the only person in the world, andxa0now I know exactly what that means. I’m not quite sure what shexa0does, or how she does it—another person would have come acrossxa0as overly eager; obsequious, even—but when Alice gives me her attentionxa0like that, I feel golden, warm with the certainty that I’m fullyxa0understood.xa0For a brief, insane moment, I imagine telling her my secret. I picturexa0it all clearly. Me and Alice in this room—both a little tipsy, bothxa0giggly and happy and ever so slightly self- conscious with the feelingxa0you have when you’ve made a new friend, a special friend—I put myxa0hand on her knee so that she is still and quiet, so that she knows I’mxa0about to say something important, and then I tell her. I tell herxa0quickly, without pausing, without meeting her eyes. And when I’vexa0finished, she is warm and forgiving and understanding, as I hopedxa0she’d be. She hugs me. Everything is all right and I am lighter forxa0having told. I am free.xa0But this is all just a dream. A crazy fantasy. I tell her nothing.xa0I’m wearing my usual jeans and boots and shirt, and I’ve broughtxa0some makeup with me to put on before we go to the party, but Alicexa0insists that I wear a dress. Her closet is bursting with them, in allxa0sorts of colors and lengths and styles. There must be at least a hundred,xa0and some still have tags. I wonder where she gets the money,xa0how she affords so many clothes, and I’m tempted, once again,xa0to ask.xa0“I have a bit of a clothing habit.” She grins.xa0“Really?” I joke. “I would never have ... Read more