Little Do We Know

by Tamara Ireland Stone

  I thought back to that day Dad and I sat in the parking lot after that painfully silent ride to school, when he begged me not to be angry with him for what he’d done. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to make this right, okay? Do you trust me?”

  I told him I did.

  “I’m so sorry,” Aaron said. “I had no idea.”

  I hated what the two of them had done to Luke. It was even worse that they’d convinced themselves that it was okay, because of me.

  I looked straight into Aaron’s eyes. “Move. Now.”

  At lunch on Monday, I found Luke waiting for me outside the theater doors.

  “I won’t do it, Emory. Is that what you want me to say?”

  He’d been texting me since I left his house on Saturday night, begging me to talk to him. He texted me on Sunday morning, and when I didn’t reply he came over. I made Mom kick him out.

  I pushed past him and started dialing my combination. “No, that’s not what I want you to say. I don’t want you to come to my play because I made you feel guilty about it.” I shoved my books inside and slammed the door. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  “I already said yes. I don’t have a choice.”

  “Of course you do. You’re making your choice. Right now. No one is forcing you to do this, Luke.”

  “I can’t tell Pastor J no.”

  It sounded so familiar. All my life, I’d been listening to Hannah tell me how she couldn’t say no to her dad.

  “You want to know why Hannah and I are fighting? Because of this. She never stands up to her dad, especially when it counts most. I don’t get it. He’s just a guy. If you don’t want to speak at their Admissions Night, just tell him that. Tell him you don’t want to do it.”

  Luke fixed his gaze on his shoes.

  And I knew.

  “It’s not about Pastor J, is it?”

  He shook his head.

  “You want to do it, don’t you?”

  He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He wouldn’t look at me.

  “Yeah. I think I do.” He combed his fingers through his hair and finally met my gaze. “I don’t expect you to understand this, Emory.”

  “Good. Because I don’t.”

  “Hey, Luke!” We both turned around and found Courtney Schneider standing behind us, surrounded by all her friends. She shoved her phone at him. “Is this you?”

  His voice filled the air. “Hi. My name is Luke. To be honest, I’m not really sure why I’m doing this.”

  The color drained from his face, and despite that fact that I’d been yelling at him seconds earlier, I threaded my arm through his.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  “Someone posted the link on Twitter.”

  “Twitter?” Luke asked.

  “I just had to tell you how amazing this was.” She rested her hand on her chest and stared at Luke with her big brown doe eyes. “I…we…” She glanced around at her friends, and they all shot him sympathetic smiles, like he needed their pity or something. “No one had any idea what you’d been through. That was just…wow.” She hugged him. “I’m glad you’re okay. If you ever want to talk…” She trailed off.

  She didn’t glance at me once. It was as if I’d become invisible.

  When Courtney walked away, Luke turned to me. He looked like he was going to be sick. “I don’t…”

  My whole body was on fire and my mind was racing. I was beyond furious, ready to fight for him.

  “You were right,” Luke said. “I shouldn’t have trusted her.”

  I couldn’t believe Hannah would do that to him, and yet somehow, against all proof otherwise, I wasn’t entirely sure she had.

  Luke dug his fingertips into his scalp and walked in small circles. Then he stepped back and kicked a bottom locker so hard that he made a dent in the door.

  I pulled him away. “Stop! You’re going to rip your internal stitches.”

  He twisted away from me, but then he stepped forward again and pulled me into his arms. I could feel him breathing hard and fast, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him as tight as I could. I kissed his neck and told him it would be okay, that we’d figure out what happened together.

  “Do you have your keys on you?” I asked, sliding my hand into his front pocket where he always kept them. I answered my own question when I pulled them out and spun them around my finger. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”

  I barreled out of the office and ran straight into Luke. Emory was right behind him. He didn’t say a word, he just stared at me, looking disheveled and betrayed.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said. “I swear.”

  Luke didn’t speak. I wished he would. Or that Emory would. Their collective silence was worse than anything they could have said.

  “You have to believe me. I just found out.”

  His expression softened. I probably should have felt relieved, but I still couldn’t get past the guilt. Even if I hadn’t shared the video, it was my fault it existed it in the first place. The whole thing was my fault.

  “She’s telling the truth.” Dad rested his hand on my shoulder, but I pulled away from him. “Come in. I’ll explain everything.”

  Dad leaned on his desk and Aaron sat in the leather chair. Luke and Emory sat next to each other on the couch, but I was too pumped with adrenaline to sit. I stayed in the back of the room, leaning against the wall with my arms folded across my chest, trying not to scream.

  Luke was fuming. “Why have a bunch of people at my school—people I barely know—seen a video I made and didn’t share with anyone?” He inhaled sharply. I could hear his voice shaking.

  “It’s my fault,” Aaron said. “I thought your video was incredible. I shared it with a local pastor I trusted, but I guess I wasn’t clear enough that it wasn’t supposed to be public. I never told him to share it, I promise.” He held up one hand. “And then it was out there and…I never thought it would go this far this fast.”

  “I made this for myself!” He slammed his hand on the desk. “It was for me!”

  No one said anything. It was all I could do to stand silently at the back of the room. I wanted to grab Luke’s hand and pull him away from Dad and Aaron and the horrible thing they’d done, not only to protect him, but also to show Emory that I was no longer my dad’s sheep. That I’d changed. But maybe I hadn’t, because I stood frozen in place anyway, unsure how to make the first move.

  “I told you I would come speak at your admissions thing as a favor,” Luke said. “I figured I owed you one. Was this your plan all along?”

  I glanced over at Emory, but she wouldn’t look at me. She was too busy glaring at my dad.

  “No,” Dad said in a calm, even voice. “I swear.”

  I stared at him. There was something about the look on his face that made me wonder if he was telling Luke everything.

  “That video wasn’t yours, Dad.” My voice was quiet and tentative, but I was relieved to have found it. “It wasn’t Aaron’s or mine either. It was Luke’s.” I spoke a little louder. “You had no right to share it. That was Luke’s story. It was his decision to share it.”

  “I know,” Dad whispered. “I’m sorry. I truly am.” He curled his finger toward his chest. “But look…you need to see something.”

  Dad stood from his chair, swiveling it around so Luke could take it. He pointed at his computer monitor. “Open any one of these emails. They’ve been coming in since yesterday. They’re all for you.”

  Luke started reading. When he finished one message, he closed it and opened another one. And then another one.

  “I knew your experience would resonate with people and I was right. We’ve been getting calls all day from pastors around the country. They’re all asking me about you.”

  I watched Dad, pacing excitedly, and suddenly, this whole thing made sense. Pastors were calling him. They wanted something he had for a change. He felt important, I could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t just about A
dmissions Night. Because of Luke, Dad mattered to them again.

  “Everyone wants to meet you,” he continued. “They want to hear what you have to say.”

  “Me?” Luke yelled, pressing his fingertips into his temples. “Why? I said everything on that video. I don’t have anything else to say!”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Dad said. “Look, I’m sorry your friends at school saw it. I really am. But since people know anyway, maybe you just…make the most of it.” Dad made it sound like it was no big deal. “There are a few local TV channels that want to talk to you.”

  I glanced over at Emory and watched her, watching my dad. And suddenly, I was hearing this whole conversation through her ears instead of mine. Dad didn’t sound like he was in this for Luke. He sounded like a shepherd, leading a stray member of his flock where he needed him to go.

  “I think it could do some good,” Dad continued.

  “Some good?” I blurted out. “For who? Not for Luke.”

  “Yes, for Luke,” Dad said to me. “And also for all those people who wrote to us, and the thousands of people who clicked ‘like’ on his video, and everyone else who hasn’t heard him yet.” He turned back to Luke. “You could do the interviews here on campus if you want to.”

  Dad probably thought that would be enough to keep me quiet, but I wasn’t finished. “Where, Dad?” I asked with a huff. “In front of the Covenant Christian School sign? Maybe he could shout out the details of Admissions Night at the end.”

  My dad opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t give him time to speak. I turned to Luke. “Don’t do this.”

  His gaze was fixed on my dad. I tried to figure out what he was thinking.

  Dad kept going. “There’s also an invitation for you to appear live on one of the local LA morning shows on Thursday. They’d cover all your expenses and put you up in a hotel the night before. You’d miss a day of school, of course, but I’d be happy to call your parents and chat with them about everything…if you want me to.”

  Luke stood and paced the room. “This is totally insane. I don’t get any of this. Why do the TV stations care? Why would they want to talk to me?”

  “You’re inspiring. You’re genuine. You’re a star athlete, but also a totally normal kid who experienced something extraordinary. What happened to you gives people hope.”

  “Hope for what?” Luke asked.

  “Everything.”

  Emory had been uncharacteristically silent, sitting next to Luke with her arms crossed, glaring at Dad and me. She finally spoke up. “You’re not actually considering this, are you, Luke?”

  Luke reached for the doorknob, but that didn’t stop my dad. “I completely understand,” he called out. “I don’t blame you for leaving. I wouldn’t be surprised if you left this room and never spoke to any of us ever again.”

  Luke didn’t turn around, but he rested his hand on the door frame. He was listening.

  Dad continued. “You’re under no obligation to do anything for any of us, but if there’s a part of you that enjoyed telling your story on camera the other night…if you felt better when it was over, like a weight had been lifted…if there’s even a tiny part of you that thinks telling your story to more people would make a difference in your life, and in theirs, you owe it to yourself to consider this.”

  “Luke.” Emory took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “This isn’t you. This isn’t what you need.”

  He pulled her hands away. “How do you know what I need?”

  Emory reeled back like he’d slapped her.

  Luke looked back at Dad. “It’s only a couple interviews?”

  Dad looked like he was holding back a smile. “A few here on campus tomorrow, plus a short trip to LA on Wednesday night. You’ll be on Good Day LA early Thursday morning, and back home before lunch.”

  Luke pressed his lips together. “And that’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Luke crossed his arms. The room was completely silent. And then he turned to me.

  “I need Hannah there, too.”

  Emory’s jaw dropped open. She started to say something but changed her mind.

  She stood and stormed out of the room instead.

  I ran after her, calling her name, but she wouldn’t stop.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she said.

  She turned down the hall, quickening her steps. I finally caught up to her when she got to the faculty lot.

  “Please,” I said, grabbing her arm. “You have to believe me, none of this was supposed to happen. I’m so sorry.” She pushed me to one side and kept walking toward Luke’s car. “I swear. I had nothing to do with this. Luke and I made the video for him…for you. Luke made it so he could tell you his story. All I did was help him tell it.”

  She jerked her arm away and kept walking.

  “I think about that day all the time,” I yelled. “I think about it constantly. At night, when I can’t sleep, all I do is replay that conversation in my head. All those things my dad said. How I didn’t defend you. And I didn’t help you. But I still want to help you. You need me—”

  Emory stopped cold and turned around. “He practically said it was my fault. And you agreed with him.”

  “I didn’t mean…You took it the wrong way….” I panicked. It was happening again. I didn’t have time to think about what I wanted to say, and none of my words were coming out right. I was making this whole thing worse, and I didn’t think that was even remotely possible.

  “I don’t need your help,” she said.

  “Please.” I reached out for her but she stepped backward. “You have to tell Luke.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t. And if you tell him, that will be it, Hannah. I’ll never be able to forgive you for that. Our friendship will be over forever.”

  She turned around and walked to the car. She got in, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of the parking space. And then she rolled down the window. “Tell Luke to text me when he’s ready to go.”

  By Wednesday, Luke’s video was everywhere. Everyone at school was talking about it. And everyone had one question for me: Who was that girl in the background who hugged him at the end?

  I called Hannah a friend of ours and left it at that.

  Day 300, 137 to go

  On Thursday morning, I sat on the living room couch, turned on the TV, and flipped to channel 106. Mom handed me a mug of black coffee and settled in next to me with one of her own.

  The Good Day LA theme music came on. The two anchors took turns reading the relevant news, and then they flashed on Luke and Hannah, back in the greenroom, smiling and waving. They cut to commercial. When the show returned, the two of them were sitting next to each other on a tan couch.

  Luke looked nice, dressed in dark gray jeans and a bright blue button-down shirt that showed off his eyes. His hair looked especially good. His loose curls had the perfect amount of definition, and I wondered if someone had styled it with product or something before the show.

  And then there was Hannah. She looked so prim and proper in a flowy white dress with tiny gray dots all over it, like she and Luke color coordinated on purpose. Her scoop-neck collar dipped just low enough to reveal the cross necklace she always wore.

  She settled in on the couch and talked about seeing him pull up in front of the window that night. “I happened to be up getting water.”

  She talked about watching his car swerve before it came to a stop against the curb. “He was right under my streetlight. I ran out there as fast as I could. He wasn’t moving or breathing, and I could tell he was hurt, so I ran inside to call nine-one-one and get my parents.”

  Then Luke talked about floating in the water. “And then, out of nowhere, I heard Hannah’s voice. She said something I’ll never forget.” And then, as if they’d rehearsed this, she looked right into the camera and said, “I told him, ‘You’re not finished here.’”

  The talk-show hosts sig
hed into their respective microphones at the exact same time, and that triggered a collective sigh from the audience. Luke shot Hannah a smile.

  I pretended to stick my finger down my throat.

  When the noise died down, Luke said, “When I got home from the hospital, I felt lost. And just…really sad. I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone about what happened to me, because they didn’t really want to hear it. Everyone wanted everything to go back to normal.”

  By “everyone,” Luke meant me.

  I thought about the night I’d gone to his house for Calletti Spaghetti after, when I sat in his bed and he showed me articles about athletes who had died from their injuries. I told him to stop. And when he first returned to school, we stood in the hallway and I convinced him to go to the diner with me. “We’ll treat that place like a time machine,” I’d said. “The second we walk through that door and sit down in our booth, it’s two weeks ago. Nothing bad happened, no one got hurt, and nothing’s going to happen.” Even that first morning in the hospital, when the nurse said he almost died, and Luke whispered, “I did.” I’d heard him. But I never asked him what he meant by that.

  If I’d let him talk, would he have told me everything he’d told Hannah?

  I’d spent the last few weeks blaming those ten minutes for the friendship that sprang up between the two of them, but maybe I was the one to blame after all.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Luke continued. “I was so afraid to fall asleep. I was certain if I did, I wouldn’t wake up. And then Hannah suggested making the video, and as soon as I did, it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. That video wasn’t supposed to be for anyone but me, but now I’m glad it got out. It’s helping me to talk about it.”

  He looked so certain. So convinced he’d done the right thing by telling Hannah. Telling the world. And it felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

  Every so often, Hannah looked over at Luke, and damn, the camera guy loved it when she did that. He’d start with a close-up of her face, then pan to Luke’s, and then pull back when the two of them smiled at each other like lovestruck kids.