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Chapter no 11

One of Us Is Lying

Nateโ€Œ

Monday, October 1, 11:50 p.m.

I made a round of calls to my suppliers this morning to tell them Iโ€™m out of commission for a while. Then I threw away that phone. I still have a couple of others. I usually pay cash for a bunch at Walmart and rotate them for a few months before replacing them.

So after Iโ€™ve watched as many Japanese horror movies as I can stand and itโ€™s almost midnight, I take a new phone out and call the one I gave Bronwyn. It rings six times before she picks up, and she sounds nervous as hell. โ€œHello?โ€

Iโ€™m tempted to disguise my voice and ask if I can buy a bag of heroin to mess with her, but sheโ€™d probably throw the phone out and never talk to me again. โ€œHey.โ€

โ€œItโ€™s late,โ€ she says accusingly. โ€œWere you sleeping?โ€

โ€œNo,โ€ she admits. โ€œI canโ€™t.โ€

โ€œMe either.โ€ Neither of us says anything for a minute. Iโ€™m stretched out on my bed with a couple of thin pillows behind me, staring at paused screen credits in Japanese. I click off the movie and scroll through the channel guide.

โ€œNate, do you remember Olivia Kendrickโ€™s birthday party in fifth grade?โ€

I do, actually. It was the last birthday party I ever went to at St. Pius, before my dad withdrew me because we couldnโ€™t pay the tuition anymore. Olivia invited the whole class and had a scavenger hunt in her yard and the

woods behind it. Bronwyn and I were on the same team, and she tore through those clues like it was her job and she was up for a promotion. We won and all five of us got twenty-dollar iTunes gift cards. โ€œYeah.โ€

โ€œI think thatโ€™s the last time you and I spoke before all this.โ€

โ€œMaybe.โ€ I remember better than she probably realizes. In fifth grade my friends started noticing girls and at one point they all had girlfriends for, like, a week. Stupid kid stuff where they asked a girl out, the girl said yes, and then they ignored each other. While we were walking through Oliviaโ€™s woods I watched Bronwynโ€™s ponytail swing in front of me and wondered what sheโ€™d say if I asked her to be my girlfriend. I didnโ€™t do it, though.

โ€œWhereโ€™d you go after St. Pi?โ€ she asks.

โ€œGranger.โ€ St. Pius went up to eighth grade, so I wasnโ€™t in school with Bronwyn again until high school. By then she was in full-on overachiever mode.

She pauses, as though sheโ€™s waiting for me to continue, and laughs a little. โ€œNate, whyโ€™d you call me if youโ€™re only going to give one-word answers to everything?โ€

โ€œMaybe youโ€™re not asking the right questions.โ€ โ€œOkay.โ€ Another pause. โ€œDid you do it?โ€

I donโ€™t have to ask what she means. โ€œYes and no.โ€ โ€œYouโ€™ll have to be more specific.โ€

โ€œYes, I sold drugs while on probationย forย selling drugs. No, I didnโ€™t dump peanut oil in Simon Kelleherโ€™s cup. You?โ€

โ€œSame,โ€ she says quietly. โ€œYes and no.โ€ โ€œSo you cheated?โ€

โ€œYes.โ€ Her voice wavers, and if she starts crying I donโ€™t know what Iโ€™ll do. Pretend the call dropped, maybe. But she pulls herself together. โ€œIโ€™m really ashamed. And Iโ€™m so afraid of people finding out.โ€

Sheโ€™s all worried-sounding, so I probably shouldnโ€™t laugh, but I canโ€™t help it. โ€œSo youโ€™re not perfect. So what? Welcome to the real world.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m familiar with the real world.โ€ Bronwynโ€™s voice is cool. โ€œI donโ€™t live in a bubble. Iโ€™m sorry for what I did, thatโ€™s all.โ€

She probably is, but itโ€™s not the whole truth. Realityโ€™s messier than that. She had months to confess if it was really eating at her, and she didnโ€™t. I donโ€™t know why itโ€™s so hard for people to admit that sometimes theyโ€™re just assholes who screw up because they donโ€™t expect to get caught. โ€œYou sound more worried about what people are gonna think,โ€ I say.

โ€œThereโ€™s nothing wrong with worrying about what people think. It keeps you offย probation.โ€

My main phone beeps. Itโ€™s next to my bed on the scarred side table that lurches every time I touch it, because itโ€™s missing a leg tip and Iโ€™m too lazy to fix it. I roll over to read a text from Amber:ย U up?ย Iโ€™m about to tell Bronwyn I have to go when she heaves a sigh.

โ€œSorry. Low blow. Itโ€™s justโ€ฆitโ€™s more complicated than that, for me. Iโ€™ve disappointed both my parents, but itโ€™s worse for my dad. Heโ€™s always pushing against stereotypes because heโ€™s not from here. He built this great reputation, and I could tarnish the whole thing with one stupid move.โ€

Iโ€™m about to tell her nobody thinks that way. Her family looks pretty untouchable from where I sit. But I guess everyone has shit to deal with, and I donโ€™t know hers. โ€œWhereโ€™s your dad from?โ€ I ask instead.

โ€œHe was born in Colombia, but moved here when he was ten.โ€ โ€œWhat about your mom?โ€

โ€œOh, her familyโ€™s been here forever. Fourth-generation Irish or something.โ€

โ€œMine too,โ€ I say. โ€œBut letโ€™s just say my fall from grace wonโ€™t surprise anyone.โ€

She sighs. โ€œThis is all so surreal, isnโ€™t it? That anybody could think either one of us would actuallyย killย Simon.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re taking me at my word?โ€ I ask. โ€œIโ€™m onย probation,ย remember?โ€ โ€œYeah, but I was there when you tried to help Simon. Youโ€™d have to be

a pretty good actor to fake that.โ€

โ€œIf Iโ€™m enough of a sociopath to kill Simon I can fake anything, right?โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re not a sociopath.โ€

โ€œHow do you know?โ€ I say it like Iโ€™m making fun, but I really want to know the answer. Iโ€™m the guy who got searched.ย The obvious outlier and scapegoat,ย as Officer Lopez said. Someone who lies whenever itโ€™s convenient and would do it in a heartbeat to save his own ass. Iโ€™m not sure how all that adds up to trust for someone I hadnโ€™t talked to in six years.

Bronwyn doesnโ€™t answer right away, and I stop channel surfing at the Cartoon Network to watch a snippet of some new show with a kid and a snake. It doesnโ€™t look promising. โ€œI remember how you used to look out for your mom,โ€ she finally says. โ€œWhen sheโ€™d show up at school and actโ€ฆyou know. Like she was sick or something.โ€

Like she was sick or something.ย I guess Bronwyn could be referring to the time my mother screamed at Sister Flynn during parent-teacher conferences and ended up ripping all our artwork off the walls. Or the way sheโ€™d cry on the curb while she was waiting to pick me up from soccer practice. Thereโ€™s a lot to choose from.

โ€œI really liked your mom,โ€ Bronwyn says tentatively when I donโ€™t answer. โ€œShe used to talk to me like I was a grown-up.โ€

โ€œSheโ€™d swear at you, you mean,โ€ I say, and Bronwyn laughs. โ€œI always thought it was more like she was swearingย withย me.โ€

Something about the way she says that gets to me. Like she could see the person under all the other crap. โ€œShe liked you.โ€ I think about Bronwyn in the stairwell today, her hair still in that shiny ponytail and her face bright. As if everything is interesting and worth her time.ย If she were around, sheโ€™d like you now.

โ€œShe used to tell meโ€ฆโ€ Bronwyn pauses. โ€œShe said you only teased me so much because you had a crush on me.โ€

I glance at Amberโ€™s text, still unanswered. โ€œI might have. I donโ€™t remember.โ€

Like I said. I lie whenever itโ€™s convenient.

Bronwynโ€™s quiet for a minute. โ€œI should go. At least try to sleep.โ€ โ€œYeah. Me too.โ€

โ€œI guess weโ€™ll see what happens tomorrow, huh?โ€ โ€œGuess so.โ€

โ€œWell, bye. And, um, Nate?โ€ She speaks quickly, in a rush. โ€œI had a crush onย youย back then. For whatever thatโ€™s worth. Nothing, probably. But anyway. FYI. So, good night.โ€

After she hangs up I put the phone on my bedside table and pick up the other one. I read Amberโ€™s message again, then type,ย Come over.

Bronwynโ€™s naรฏve if she thinks thereโ€™s more to me than that.

Addy

Wednesday, October 3, 7:50 a.m.

Ashton keeps making me go to school. My mother couldnโ€™t care less. As far as sheโ€™s concerned Iโ€™ve ruined all our lives, so it doesnโ€™t much matter what I do anymore. She doesnโ€™t say those exact words, but theyโ€™re etched across her face every time she looks at me.

โ€œFive thousand dollars just to talk to a lawyer, Adelaide,โ€ she hisses at me over breakfast Thursday morning. โ€œI hope you know thatโ€™s coming out of your college fund.โ€

Iโ€™d roll my eyes if I had the energy. We both know I donโ€™t have a college fund. Sheโ€™s been on the phone to my father in Chicago for days, hassling him for the money. He doesnโ€™t have much to spare, thanks to his second, younger family, but heโ€™ll probably send at least half to shut her up and feel good about what an involved parent he is.

Jake still wonโ€™t talk to me, and I miss him so much, itโ€™s like Iโ€™ve been hollowed out by a nuclear blast and thereโ€™s nothing left but ashes fluttering inside brittle bones. Iโ€™ve sent him dozens of texts that arenโ€™t only unanswered; theyโ€™re unread. He unfriended me on Facebook and unfollowed me on Instagram and Snapchat. Heโ€™s pretending I donโ€™t exist and Iโ€™m starting to think heโ€™s right. If Iโ€™m not Jakeโ€™s girlfriend, who am I?

He was supposed to be suspended all week for hitting TJ, but his parents raised a fuss about how Simonโ€™s death has put everyone on edge, so I guess heโ€™s back today. The thought of seeing him makes me sick enough that I decided to stay home. Ashton had to drag me out of bed. Sheโ€™s staying with us indefinitely, for now.

โ€œYouโ€™re not going to wither up and die from this, Addy,โ€ Ashton lectures as she shoves me toward the shower. โ€œHe doesnโ€™t get to erase you from the world. God, you made a stupid mistake. Itโ€™s not like you murdered someone.

โ€œWell,โ€ she adds with a short, sarcastic laugh, โ€œI guess the juryโ€™s still out on that one.โ€

Oh, the gallows humor in our household now. Who knew Prentiss girls had it in them to be even a little bit funny?

Ashton drives me to Bayview and drops me off out front. โ€œKeep your chin up,โ€ she advises. โ€œDonโ€™t let that sanctimonious control freak get you down.โ€

โ€œGod,ย Ash. I did cheat on him, you know. Heโ€™s not unprovoked.โ€ She purses her lips in a hard line. โ€œStill.โ€

I get out of the car and try to steel myself for the day. School used to be so easy. I belonged to everything without even trying. Now Iโ€™m barely hanging on to the edges of who I used to be, and when I catch my reflection in a window I hardly recognize the girl staring back at me. Sheโ€™s in my clothesโ€”the kind of formfitting top and tight jeans that Jake likesโ€”but her hollow cheeks and dead eyes donโ€™t match the outfit.

My hair looks tremendous, though. At least I have that going for me. Thereโ€™s only one person who looks worse than me at school, and thatโ€™s

Janae. She must have lost ten pounds since Simon died, and her skinโ€™s a

mess. Her mascaraโ€™s running all the time, so I guess she cries in the bathroom between classes as much as I do. Itโ€™s surprising we havenโ€™t run into each other yet.

I see Jake at his locker almost as soon as I enter the hallway. All the blood rushes out of my head, making me so light-headed I actually sway as I walk toward him. His expression is calm and preoccupied as he twirls his combination. For a second I hope everythingโ€™s going to be fine, that his time away from school has helped him cool off and forgive me. โ€œHi, Jake,โ€ I say.

His face changes in an instant from neutral to livid. He yanks his locker open with a scowl and pulls out an armful of books, stuffing them

into his backpack. He slams his locker, shoulders his backpack, and turns away.

โ€œAre you ever going to talk to me again?โ€ I ask. My voice is tiny, breathless. Pathetic.

He turns and gives me such a hate-filled look that I step backward. โ€œNot if I can help it.โ€

Donโ€™t cry. Donโ€™t cry.ย Everyoneโ€™s staring at me as Jake stalks away. I catch Vanessa smirking from a few lockers over. Sheโ€™sย lovingย this. How did I ever think she was my friend? Sheโ€™ll probably go after Jake soon, if she hasnโ€™t already. I stumble in front of my own locker, my hand stretching toward the lock. It takes a few seconds for the word written in thick black Sharpie to sink in.

WHORE.

Muffled laughter surrounds me as my eyes trace the twoย Vs that make up theย W.ย They cross each other in a distinctive, loopy scrawl. Iโ€™ve made dozens of pep rally posters for the Bayview Wildcats with Vanessa, and teased her for her funny-lookingย Ws. She didnโ€™t even try to hide it. I guess she wanted me to know.

I force myself to walk, not run, to the nearest bathroom. Two girls stand at the mirror, fixing their makeup, and I duck past them into the farthest stall. I collapse onto the toilet seat and cry silently, burying my head in my hands.

The first bell rings but I stay where I am, tears rolling down my cheeks until Iโ€™m cried out. I fold my arms onto my knees and lower my head, immobile as the second bell rings and girls come in and out of the bathroom again. Snatches of conversation float through the room and, yeah, some of itโ€™s about me. I plug my ears and try not to listen.

Itโ€™s the middle of third period by the time I uncoil myself and stand. I unlock the stall door and head for the mirror, pushing my hair away from my face. My mascaraโ€™s washed away, but Iโ€™ve been here long enough that my eyes arenโ€™t puffy. I stare at my reflection and try to collect my scattered thoughts. I canโ€™t deal with classes today. Iโ€™d go to the nurseโ€™s office and claim a headache, but I donโ€™t feel comfortable there now that Iโ€™m a

suspected EpiPen thief. That leaves only one option: getting out of here and going home.

Iโ€™m in the back stairwell with my hand on the door when heavy footsteps pound the stairs. I turn to see TJ Forrester coming down; his nose is still swollen and framed by a black eye. He stops when he sees me, one hand gripping the banister. โ€œHey, Addy.โ€

โ€œShouldnโ€™t you be in class?โ€

โ€œI have a doctorโ€™s appointment.โ€ He puts a hand to his nose and grimaces. โ€œI might have a deviated septum.โ€

โ€œServes you right.โ€ The bitter words burst out before I can stop them.

TJโ€™s mouth falls open, then closes, and his Adamโ€™s apple bobs up and down. โ€œI didnโ€™t say anything to Jake, Addy. I swear to God. I didnโ€™t want this to come out any more than you did. Itโ€™s messed things up for me too.โ€ He touches his nose again gingerly.

I wasnโ€™t actually thinking about Jake; I was thinking about Simon. But of course TJ wouldnโ€™t know anything about the unpublished posts. How did Simon know, though? โ€œWe were the only two people there,โ€ I hedge. โ€œYou must have toldย somebody.โ€

TJ shakes his head, wincing as though the movement hurts. โ€œWe were kissing on a public beach before we got to my house, remember? Anyone could have seen us.โ€

โ€œBut they wouldnโ€™t have knownโ€”โ€ I stop, realizing Simonโ€™s site never said TJ and I slept together. Heย impliedย it, pretty heavily, but that was it. Maybe Iโ€™d overconfessed. The thought sickens me, although Iโ€™m not sure I could have managed to tell Jake only a half-truth anyway. Heโ€™d have gotten it out of me eventually.

TJ looks at me with regret in his eyes. โ€œIโ€™m sorry this sucks so bad for you. For what itโ€™s worth, I think Jakeโ€™s being a jerk. But I didnโ€™t tell anybody.โ€ He puts a hand over his heart. โ€œSwear on my granddadโ€™s grave. I know that doesnโ€™t mean anything to you but it does to me.โ€ I finally nod, and he lets out a deep breath. โ€œWhere are you going?โ€

โ€œHome. I canโ€™t stand being here. All my friends hate me.โ€ Iโ€™m not sure why Iโ€™m telling him this, other than the fact that I donโ€™t have anyone else to tell. โ€œI doubt theyโ€™ll even let me sit with them now that Jakeโ€™s back.โ€ Itโ€™s

true. Cooperโ€™s out today, visiting his sick grandmother and probably, although he didnโ€™t say so, meeting with his lawyer. With him gone nobody will dare stand up to Jakeโ€™s anger. Or want to.

โ€œScrew them.โ€ TJ gives me a lopsided grin. โ€œIf theyโ€™re still being assholes tomorrow, come sit with me. They wanna talk, letโ€™s give them something to talk about.โ€

It shouldnโ€™t make me smile, but it almost does.

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