Tuesday, september 25, 8:50 a.m.
I canโt stop doing the math in my head. Itโs eight-fifty a.m. on Tuesday, and twenty-four hours ago Simon was going to homeroom for the last time. Six hours and five minutes from then we were heading to detention. An hour later, he died.
Seventeen years, gone just like that.
I slide down into my chair in the back corner of homeroom, feeling twenty-five heads swivel my way as I sit. Even without About That to provide an update, news of Simonโs death was everywhere by dinnertime last night. I got multiple texts from everyone Iโve ever given my phone number to.
โYou all right?โ My friend Yumiko reaches over and squeezes my hand. I nod, but the gesture makes the pounding in my head even worse. Turns out half a flask of bourbon on an empty stomach is aย terribleย idea. Luckily both my parents were still at work when Nate dropped me off, and my sister, Maeve, poured enough black coffee down my throat that I was semicoherent by the time they got home. Any lingering effects they chalked up to trauma.
The first bell rings, but the speaker crackle that usually signals morning announcements never comes. Instead, our homeroom teacher, Mrs. Park, clears her throat and gets up from behind her desk. Sheโs clutching a sheet of paper that trembles in her hand as she starts to read. โThe following is an official announcement from Bayview Highโs administration. Iโm so sorry to have to share this terrible news. Yesterday afternoon one of your
classmates, Simon Kelleher, suffered a massive allergic reaction. Medical help was called immediately and arrived quickly, but unfortunately, it was too late to help Simon. He died at the hospital shortly after arrival.โ
A low whispering buzz runs through the room as somebody chokes out a sob. Half the class already has their phones out. Rules be damned today, I guess. Before I can stop myself, I pull my phone from my backpack and swipe to About That. I half expect a notification for the juicy new update Simon bragged about before detention yesterday, but of course thereโs nothing except last weekโs news.
Our favorite stoner drummerโs trying his hand at film. RCโs installed a camera in the light fixture in his bedroom, and heโs been holding premieres for all
his friends. Youโve been warned, girls. (Too late for KL, though.)
Everyoneโs seen the flirting between manic pixie dream girl TC and new rich boy GR, but who knew it might be something more? Apparently not her boyfriend, who sat oblivious in the bleachers at Saturdayโs game while T&G got hot and heavy right underneath him. Sorry, JD. Always the last to know.
The thing with About That wasโฆyou could pretty much guarantee every word was true. Simon built it sophomore year, after he spent spring break at some expensive coding camp in Silicon Valley, and nobody except him was allowed to post there. He had sources all over school, and he was choosy and careful about what he reported. People usually denied it or ignored it, but he was never wrong.
Iโd never been featured; Iโm too squeaky-clean for that. Thereโs only one thing Simon might have written about me, but it would have been almost impossible for him to find out.
Now I guess he never will.
Mrs. Park is still talking. โThere will be grief counseling provided in the auditorium all day. You may leave class any time you feel the need to speak with someone about this tragedy. The school is planning a memorial service for Simon after Saturdayโs football game, and weโll provide those details as soon as theyโre available. Weโll also be sure to keep you up to date on his familyโs arrangements once we know them.โ
The bell rings and we all get up to leave, but Mrs. Park calls my name before Iโve even collected my backpack. โBronwyn, can you hold back a
moment?โ
Yumiko shoots me a sympathetic look as she stands, tucking a strand of her choppy black hair behind her ear. โKate and Iโll wait for you in the hallway, okay?โ
I nod and grab my bag. Mrs. Park is still dangling the announcement from one hand as I approach her desk. โBronwyn, Principal Gupta wants all of you who were in the room with Simon to receive one-on-one counseling today. Sheโs asked me to let you know that youโre scheduled for eleven oโclock in Mr. OโFarrellโs office.โ
Mr. OโFarrell is my guidance counselor, and Iโm very familiar with his office. Iโve spent a lot of time there over the past six months, strategizing college admissions. โIs Mr. OโFarrell doing the counseling?โ I ask. I guess that wouldnโt be so bad.
Mrs. Parkโs forehead creases. โOh, no. The schoolโs bringing in a professional.โ
Great. Iโd spent half the night trying to convince my parents I didnโt need to see anybody. Theyโll be thrilled it was forced on me anyway. โOkay,โ I say, and wait in case she has anything else to tell me, but she just pats my arm awkwardly.
As promised, Kate and Yumiko are hovering outside the door. They flank me as we walk to first-period calculus, like theyโre shielding me from intrusive paparazzi. Yumiko steps aside, though, when she sees Evan Neiman waiting outside our classroom door.
โBronwyn, hey.โ Evanโs wearing one of his usual monogrammed polo shirts withย EWNย embroidered in script above his heart. Iโve always wondered what theย Wย stands for. Walter? Wendell? William? I hope for his sake itโs William. โDid you get my text last night?โ
I did.ย Need anything? Want some company?ย Since thatโs the only time Evan Neiman has ever texted me, my cynical side decided he was angling for a front-row seat to the most shocking thing thatโs ever happened at Bayview. โI did, thanks. I was really tired, though.โ
โWell, if you ever feel like talking, let me know.โ Evan glances around the emptying hallway. Heโs a stickler for punctuality. โWe should probably get inside, huh?โ
Yumiko grins at me as we take our seats and whispers, โEvan kept asking where you were at Mathlete practice yesterday.โ
I wish I could match her enthusiasm, but at some point between detention and calculus I lost all interest in Evan Neiman. Maybe itโs posttraumatic stress from the Simon situation, but right now I canโt remember what attracted me in the first place. Not that I was ever head over heels. Mostly I thought Evan and I had potential to be a solid couple until graduation, at which point weโd break up amicably and head to our different colleges. Which I realize is pretty uninspiring, but so is high school dating. For me, anyway.
I sit through calculus, my mind far, far away from math, and then suddenly itโs over and Iโm walking to AP English with Kate and Yumiko. My headโs still so full of what happened yesterday that when we pass Nate in the hallway it seems perfectly natural to call out, โHi, Nate.โ I stop, surprising us both, and he does too.
โHey,โ he replies. His dark hair is more disheveled than ever, and Iโm pretty sure heโs wearing the same T-shirt as yesterday. Somehow, though, it works on him. A little too well. Everything from his tall, rangy build to his angular cheekbones and wide-set, dark-fringed eyes is making me lose my train of thought.
Kate and Yumiko are staring at him too, but in a different way. More like heโs an unpredictable zoo animal in a flimsy cage. Hallway conversations with Nate Macauley arenโt exactly part of our routine. โHave you had your counseling session yet?โ I ask.
His face is a total blank. โMy what?โ
โGrief counseling. Because of Simon. Didnโt your homeroom teacher tell you?โ
โI just got here,โ he says, and my eyes widen. I never expected Nate to win any attendance awards, but itโs almost ten oโclock.
โOh. Well, all of us who were there are supposed to have one-on-one sessions. Mineโs at eleven.โ
โJesus Christ,โ Nate mutters, raking a hand through his hair.
The gesture pulls my eyes to his arm, where they remain until Kate clears her throat. My face heats as I snap back to attention, too late to
register whatever she said. โAnyway. See you around,โ I mumble.
Yumiko bends her head toward mine as soon as weโre out of earshot. โHe looks like he just rolled out of bed,โ she whispers. โAndย not alone.โ
โI hope you doused yourself in Lysol after getting off his motorcycle,โ Kate adds. โHeโs a total man-whore.โ
I glare at her. โYou realize itโs s*xist to sayย man-whore, right? If you have to use the term you should at least be gender-neutral about it.โ
โWhatever,โ Kate says dismissively. โPoint is, heโs a walking STD.โ
I donโt answer. Thatโs Nateโs reputation, sure, but we donโt really know anything about him. I almost tell her how carefully he drove me home yesterday, except Iโm not sure what point Iโd be trying to make.
After English I head for Mr. OโFarrellโs office, and he waves me inside when I knock on his open door. โHave a seat, Bronwyn. Dr. Resnick is running a little late, but sheโll be here shortly.โ I sit down across from him and spy my name scrawled across the manila folder placed neatly in the middle of his desk. I move to pick it up, then hesitate, not sure if itโs confidential, but he pushes it toward me. โYour recommendation from the Model UN organizer. In plenty of time for Yaleโs early-action deadline.โ
I exhale, letting out a small sigh of relief. โOh, thanks!โ I say, and pick up the folder. Itโs the last one Iโve been waiting for. Yaleโs a family tradition
โmy grandfather was a visiting scholar there and moved his whole family from Colombia to New Haven when he got tenure. All his kids, including my dad, went to undergrad there, and itโs where my parents met. They always say our family wouldnโt exist if it werenโt for Yale.
โYouโre very welcome.โ Mr. OโFarrell leans back and adjusts his glasses. โWere your ears burning earlier? Mr. Camino stopped by to ask if youโd be interested in tutoring for chemistry this semester. A bunch of bright juniors are struggling the way you did last year. Theyโd love to learn strategies from someone who ended up acing the course.โ
I have to swallow a couple of times before I can answer. โI would,โ I say, as brightly as I can manage, โbut I might be overcommitted already.โ My smile stretches too tightly over my teeth.
โNo worries. You have a lot on your plate.โ
Chemistry was the only class Iโd ever struggled with, so much so that I had a D average at midterm. With every quiz I bombed, I could feel the Ivy League slipping out of reach. Even Mr. OโFarrell started gently suggesting that any top-tier school would do.
So I brought my grades up, and got an A by the end of the year. But Iโm pretty sure nobody wants me sharing my strategies with the other students.
Cooper
Thursday, september 27, 12:45 p.m.
โWill I see you tonight?โ
Keely takes my hand as we walk to our lockers after lunch, looking up at me with huge dark eyes. Her mom is Swedish and her dadโs Filipino, and the combination makes Keely the most beautiful girl in school by a lot. I havenโt seen her much this week between baseball and family stuff, and I can tell sheโs getting antsy. Keelyโs not a clinger, exactly, but she needs regular couple time.
โNot sure,โ I say. โIโm pretty behind on homework.โ
Her perfect lips curve down and I can tell sheโs about to protest when a voice floats over the loudspeaker.ย โAttention, please. Would Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas please report to the main office. Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas to the main office.โ
Keely looks around like sheโs expecting an explanation. โWhatโs that about? Something to do with Simon?โ
โI guess.โ I shrug. I already answered questions from Principal Gupta a couple of days ago about what happened during detention, but maybe sheโs gearing up for another round. My father says Simonโs parents are pretty connected around town, and the school should be worried about a lawsuit if it turns out they were negligent in any way. โBetter go. Iโll talk to you later, okay?โ I give Keely a quick kiss on the cheek, shoulder my backpack, and head down the hall.
When I get to the principalโs office, the receptionist points me toward a small conference room thatโs already crowded with people: Principal Gupta, Addy, Bronwyn, Nate, and a police officer. My throat gets a little dry as I take the last empty chair.
โCooper, good. Now we can get started.โ Principal Gupta folds her hands in front of her and looks around the table. โIโd like to introduce Officer Hank Budapest with the Bayview Police Department. He has some questions about what you witnessed on Monday.โ
Officer Budapest shakes each of our hands in turn. Heโs young but already balding, with sandy hair and freckles. Not very intimidating, authority-wise. โNice to meet you all. This shouldnโt take long, but after speaking with the Kelleher family we want to take a closer look at Simonโs death. Autopsy results came back this morning, andโโ
โAlready?โ Bronwyn interrupts, earning a look from Principal Gupta that she doesnโt notice. โDonโt those usually take longer?โ
โPreliminary results can be available within a couple days,โ Officer Budapest says. โThese were fairly conclusive, showing that Simon died from a large dose of peanut oil ingested shortly before death. Which his parents found strange, considering how careful he always was with his food and drink. All of you told Principal Gupta that Simon drank a cup of water just before he collapsed, is that right?โ
We all nod, and Officer Budapest continues, โThe cup contained traces of peanut oil, so it seems clear Simon died from that drink. What weโre trying to figure out now is how peanut oil could have gotten into his cup.โ
Nobody speaks. Addy meets my eyes and then cuts hers away, a small frown creasing her forehead. โDoes anyone remember where Simon got the cup from?โ Officer Budapest prompts, poising his pen over a blank notebook in front of him.
โI wasnโt paying attention,โ Bronwyn says. โI was writing my assignment.โ
โMe too,โ Addy says, although I couldโve sworn she hadnโt even started. Nate stretches and stares at the ceiling.
โI remember,โ I volunteer. โHe got the cup from a stack next to the sink.โ
โWas the stack upside down, or right-side up?โ โUpside down,โ I say. โSimon pulled the top one off.โ
โDid you notice any liquid leave the cup when he did that? Did he shake it?โ
I think back. โNo. He just filled it with water.โ โAnd then he drank it?โ
โYeah,โ I say, but Bronwyn corrects me.
โNo,โ she says. โNot right away. He talked for a while. Remember?โ She turns to Nate. โHe asked you if you put the cell phones in our backpacks. The ones that got us in trouble with Mr. Avery.โ
โThe cell phones. Right.โ Officer Budapest scratches something down in his notebook. He doesnโt say it like a question, but Bronwyn explains anyway.
โSomebody played a prank on us,โ she says. โItโs why we were in detention. Mr. Avery found phones in our backpacks that didnโt belong to us.โ She turns to Principal Gupta with an injured expression. โIt really wasnโt fair. Iโve been meaning to ask, is that something that goes on your permanent record?โ
Nate rolls his eyes. โIt wasnโt me. Someone stuck a phone in my backpack too.โ
Principal Gupta furrows her brow. โThis is the first Iโm hearing about this.โ
I shrug when she meets my eyes. Those phones were the last thing on my mind these past few days.
Officer Budapest doesnโt look surprised. โMr. Avery mentioned that when I met with him earlier. He said none of the kids ever claimed the phones, so he thought it mustโve been a prank after all.โ He slides his pen between his index and middle finger and taps it rhythmically against the table. โIs that the sort of joke Simon might have played on you all?โ
โI donโt see why,โ Addy says. โThere was a phone in his backpack too.
Besides, I barely knew him.โ
โYou were on junior prom court with him,โ Bronwyn points out. Addy blinks, like sheโs only just remembering thatโs true.
โAny of you kids ever have trouble with Simon?โ Officer Budapest asks. โIโve heard about the app he madeโAbout That, right?โ Heโs looking at me, so I nod. โYou guys ever been on it?โ
Everyone shakes their head except Nate. โLots of times,โ he says. โWhat for?โ Officer Budapest asks.
Nate smirks. โStupid shitโโ he starts, but Principal Gupta cuts him
off.
โLanguage, Mr. Macauley.โ
โStupid stuff,โ Nate amends. โHooking up, mostly.โ โDid that bother you? Being gossiped about?โ
โNot really.โ He looks like he means it. I guess being on a gossip app
isnโt a big deal compared to getting arrested. If thatโs true. Simon never posted it, so nobody seems to know exactly what Nateโs deal is.
Kinda pathetic, how Simon was our most trusted news source.
Officer Budapest looks at the rest of us. โBut not you three?โ We all shake our heads again. โDid you ever worry about ending up on Simonโs app? Feel like you had something hanging over your heads, or anything like that?โ
โNot me,โ I say, but my voice isnโt as confident as I would have liked. I glance away from Officer Budapest and catch Addy and Bronwyn looking like polar opposites: Addyโs gone pale as a ghost, and Bronwynโs flushed brick red. Nate watches them for a few seconds, tilts his chair back, and looks at Officer Budapest.
โEverybodyโs got secrets,โ he says. โRight?โ
โ
My workout routine goes long that night, but my dad makes everyone wait till Iโm done so we can eat dinner together. My brother, Lucas, clutches his stomach and staggers to the table with a long-suffering look when we finally sit down at seven.
The topic of conversationโs the same as itโs been all week: Simon. โYou had to figure the policeโd get involved at some point,โ Pop says, spooning a small mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate. โSomethingโs
not right about how that boy died.โ He snorts. โPeanut oil in the water system, maybe? Lawyers are gonna have a field day with that.โ
โWere his eyes bugging out of his head likeย this?โ asks Lucas, making a face. Heโs twelve, and Simonโs death is nothing but video-game gore to him.
My grandmother reaches over and swats Lucas on the back of his hand. Nonnyโs barely five feet tall with a head full of tight white curls, but she means business. โHush your mouth unless you can speak of that poor young man with respect.โ
Nonnyโs lived with us since we moved here from Mississippi five years ago. It surprised me then that she came along; our grandfather had been dead for years, but she had plenty of friends and clubs that kept her busy. Now that weโve lived here for a while, I get it. Our basic colonial costs three times what our house in Mississippi did, and thereโs no way we could afford it without Nonnyโs money. But you can play baseball year- round in Bayview, and itโs got one of the best high school programs in the country. At some point, Pop expects Iโll make this gigantic mortgage and the job he hates worthwhile.
I might. After my fastball improved by five miles an hour over the summer, I ended up fourth on ESPNโs predictions for the June MLB draft next year. Iโm getting scouted by a lot of colleges too, and wouldnโt mind heading there first. But baseballโs not the same as football or basketball. If a guy can head for the minors right out of high school, he usually does.
Pop points at me with his knife. โYou got a showcase game Saturday.
Donโt forget.โ
As if I could. The scheduleโs posted around the whole house.
โKevin, maybe one weekend off?โ my mother murmurs, but her heartโs not in it. She knows itโs a losing battle.
โBest thing Cooperstown can do is business as usual,โ Pop says. โSlacking off wonโt bring that boy back. God rest his soul.โ
Nonnyโs small, bright eyes settle on me. โI hope you realize none of you kids couldโve done anything for Simon, Cooper. The police have to dot their iโs and cross their tโs, thatโs all.โ
I donโt know about that. Officer Budapest kept asking me about the missing EpiPens and how long I was by myself in the nurseโs office. Almost like he thought I mightโve done something with them before Ms. Grayson got there. But he didnโt come out and say it. If he thinks someone messed with Simon, Iโm not sure why he isnโt looking at Nate. If anybody asked me
โwhich they didnโtโIโd wonder how a guy like Nate even knew about EpiPens in the first place.
Weโve just finished clearing the table when the doorbell rings, and Lucas sprints for the door, hollering, โIโll get it!โ A few seconds later he yells again. โItโs Keely!โ
Nonny rises to her feet with difficulty, using the skull-topped cane Lucas picked out last year when she faced up to the fact that she couldnโt walk on her own anymore. โThought you said you two didnโt have plans tonight, Cooper.โ
โWe didnโt,โ I mutter as Keely enters the kitchen with a smile, wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
โHow are you?โ she murmurs in my ear, her soft lips brushing my cheek. โIโve been thinking about you all day.โ
โOkay,โ I say. She pulls back and reaches into her pocket, briefly flashing a cellophane packet and a smile. Red Vines, which are definitely not part of my nutritional regimen, but my favorite candy in the world. The girl gets me. And my parents, who require a few minutes of polite conversation before they head out for their bowling league.
My phone chimes, and I pull it out of my pocket.ย Hey, handsome.
I duck my head to hide the grin thatโs suddenly tugging at my mouth, and text back:ย Hey.
Can I see you tonight? Bad time. Call you later? OK miss you.
Keelyโs talking to my mother, her eyes bright with interest. Sheโs not faking it. Keely isnโt only beautiful; sheโs what Nonny calls โsugar all the way through.โ A genuinely sweet girl. Every guy at Bayview wishes he were me.
Miss you too.