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All Eyes on Her

Page 17

by L. E. Flynn


  My mouth is too dry for any words to form. It’s a hostile environment, always saying either too much or too little. I just know that there’s no way Tabby could ever be jealous of me. She always had more of everything.

  “It’s not talent,” I mumble. “I just work harder than anyone else.” It’s the truth. They go out and party, drink, smoke, pass out without worrying about the consequences. My life is a routine, structured and disciplined. Lately it feels like a cage.

  “You own it, though,” Tabby says. “Maybe my problem is I never really worked for anything. If I had, things would have been different. I wouldn’t be in here.”

  But she’s lying. I have a feeling Tabby worked at a lot of things. It was making them seem effortless that took so much energy.

  “Promise me something,” Tabby says. “Just make sure you have your own life outside of them. Outside of boys. Girls. Other people. Because if you let them in too much, you won’t be able to see where they end and you begin. You’ll lose yourself in the mess.”

  Our time’s up, and I can’t ask her what she means by that. Maybe I don’t need to, because I already know.

  24

  BECK

  Coldcliff Police Station, October 24, 12:16 p.m.

  OFFICER SCHULTZ: You realize what the boot print means. We have reason to believe you were there that night. That you and Ms. Cousins had been planning something together. If we obtain a warrant to search your computer, what would we find?

  BECK: Probably a lot of porn.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Do you have anything else to say, Thomas?

  BECK: Yeah. I need a cigarette.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Now isn’t the time for jokes. If you know something about Tabitha Cousins that the rest of us don’t, this is your opportunity to say it.

  BECK: Yeah, I do have something to say. (long pause) She didn’t do anything wrong.

  PEOPLE.COM

  October 29, 2019

  “Blue-Eyed Boyfriend Killer” pleads innocent to murder charge

  By Talia Sims

  Tabitha Cousins, 17, branded the “Blue-Eyed Boyfriend Killer” after the hiking death of her boyfriend, Mark Forrester, appeared in court yesterday to enter her plea. Cousins tearfully proclaimed her innocence and stated that she loved Forrester deeply. With a makeup-free face and her now-infamous blue eyes filled with tears, Cousins made an emotional statement that she had nothing to do with her boyfriend’s death, which shook the town of Coldcliff, Colorado, and has sent the nation into a tailspin.

  “Ms. Cousins is determined that the truth will come out,” her lawyer, Marnie Deveraux, said in a statement to the press. “My client won’t respond to any other questions at this time.”

  A GoFundMe page has been established by Forrester’s family to raise money for aspiring swimmers without financial means to receive coaching. Forrester, a NCAA titleholder for Princeton, was passionate about everyone having the opportunities he did.

  While Forrester’s immediate family could not be reached for comment, Margot Reed, Forrester’s aunt, told People that his parents were not doing well in the aftermath of their son’s death.

  “They’re struggling,” Reed said. “All because of that girl. And they never even met her. This girl they never knew ruined their lives.”

  Cousins’s family declined our request for an interview.

  COMMENTS: (101 previous)

  Sparkles: Wow, could this article be more biased toward the poor privileged white boy? How many times do you have to mention he was a swimmer? WE GET IT.

  MinutesUP: LOL I was thinking the same thing

  Pop_Canzz: Yup. I think Talia Sims has a hard-on for the dead PRINCETON STUDENT (did you guys know he went to Princeton?)

  PaintItBlack: You should have seen some of the stuff she posted on Insta what a slut, not surprised the ex BF is involved, sure she opened her legs for that guy and got what she wanted too

  Swifty01: Everyone needs to stop pretending like they’re detectives and FFS stop slut shaming a girl you don’t even know.

  Text messages from Tabitha Cousins to Mark Forrester,

  June 28, 2019

  SHARP EDGES CRIME—

  CUT TO THE TRUTH!

  November 1, 2019

  When push comes to shove

  By Oberon Halton

  Here’s a plot twist for you! In a video posted to The Button yesterday, two people—supposedly Tabitha Cousins and Mark Forrester—were recorded at a party arguing, and at one point, the girl appears to be shoved into the railing of a deck. It’s hard to tell if the girl is actually Tabby and the guy Mark. If you read the comments on The Button—and we all live for the comments, right?—you’ll see that most people do believe it’s Tabby, but they think the guy is someone other than Mark. You can really see him only from behind, and let’s face it, Mark Forrester was a tall white guy with brown hair, and how common are those?

  “I was there that night,” a source revealed. “She was flirting with every guy. She and Mark were arguing all night and she kept blowing him off to talk to Beck Rutherford.”

  Beck Rutherford, who seems to have spawned his own collection of followers around the world (it’s the hair, I think), is most certainly not the guy in the video. However, I received an interesting tip claiming that Beck and Mark had an altercation at the same party, although it’s unclear whether this was related to whatever takes place in the video.

  A perceptive reader also pointed out that the girl in the video—presumably Tabby—goes back to kissing the guy shortly after she hits the railing. Perhaps a lover’s spat with Mark? Or with somebody else?

  25

  LOU

  OKAY, THAT VIDEO. Everyone is talking about it, and I’m not sure who took it, but yeah. I’d be the first person to argue that it wasn’t Tabby and Mark. Except I was there that night, and I recognize her slutty pleather skirt. And that shirt Mark was wearing, because it’s, like, bright pink, except he called it salmon.

  It has way more views than the one I posted, way back then. When Tabby shoved Lance. I guess I’m starting to think that people only push back when they’ve already been pushed around.

  I don’t know. The whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t know what to say. Sharp Edges was the first to post about it, of course.

  Bridget Cousins is easy to find lately. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s starting to dress more like Tabby. Like, probably stealing stuff from her closet. I guess Tabby isn’t around to tell her not to. It’s kind of sad, actually. I always wanted a sister, but since my parents didn’t even want me, there was a fat chance of that happening.

  “Hey,” I say when I corner her at her locker. She’s actually quite pretty, up close. Not as plain as I always thought. She could probably be beautiful, if she wanted to be. But maybe she wants to be something more. Good for her. I’m sick of the world telling us we have to be pretty in addition to everything else we already are. I’m sick of playing into it.

  “What do you want?” she snaps. Her voice—it’s so similar to Tabby’s.

  “I saw that video. I mean, did she talk to you about it? About him?”

  Bridget leans into her locker. “As if you actually care? You’re the one who did everything you could to make her look violent. If it wasn’t for you, maybe people would have forgotten about her. You just kept feeding the fire. Now look what happened.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. I’m not sure if I am, but whatever.

  “Mark wasn’t a good guy,” she says. “Now the rest of the world can see it, too. What’s your excuse for him now? You have one, right? Somehow this was her fault, too? Or are you one of the people saying it wasn’t him, and that it was one of the many other guys she was fucking around with?”

  She turns and storms away. She’s wearing heels—they must be Tabby’s, I’m sure they wear the same shoe size—and can’t quite walk in them properly.

  And I’m left wondering if I’m one of those people after all.

  26

/>   ELLE

  I TOOK IT ON MY PHONE. I don’t even know why. It was too dark that night to see much anyway, and you can barely make out that it’s Tabby and Mark. But maybe the only way to fight their fire is to come back with our own. Besides, I’m the reason this happened. I’m the one who started the tidal wave and sucked Tabby into every current.

  I’m the source. I’m the one who sent that video to the Button. People can think what they want. I guess I should have known they’d jump to defend the blurry shadow they’re trying to say isn’t even Mark and could be any guy.

  But I was there. I saw it. He pushed her on purpose. Yes, she was yelling, but so was he.

  Maybe when they were on the Split, he tried to do the same thing. He pushed. And she pushed back.

  If she did, can you really blame her? What would you have done?

  No, honestly. Think about it. Think about being that high up. You’re probably already scared of heights, so there’s that. And the person you’re with takes up more space than you do. And he’s raging, and his arms are outstretched, and they make contact with you, just for a second. Do your arms go up to protect yourself? Is it fight, or literal flight?

  Because the more I think about it, the more I believe somebody had to go over the edge that day. And if it hadn’t been Mark, it would have been Tabby.

  The video is from the last party I had over the summer. I made a Facebook event and left it open so anyone could come. Everyone did, even Keegan. I thought maybe he wouldn’t, after what happened at Umbrage. Girls always have to carry the awkward aftermath. Girls carry everything. Boys are unburdened, uncomplicated, mouths slack-jawed and empty, all the promises and lies already dried up and used on someone else.

  Almost eleven—I know because I checked my phone—I went upstairs, and I heard them in the backyard. My window was open and I looked down and there they were, skulking around each other, pacing like two lions. Tabby and Mark.

  “You’re always controlling me,” Tabby yelled. “I’m not your puppet.”

  “I wouldn’t have to control you if you would just tell me the truth,” Mark said, his voice calm and measured.

  “I told you the truth already. He’s just a friend.”

  I cupped my hand over my mouth. Mark knew. He knew about Beck. I remembered Tabby and I, drunk, when she and Mark first got together. He doesn’t need to know anything about my past, so don’t tell him, okay?

  “You ruined my life,” Mark said, still eerily calm. Then he bent over her, hands on her shoulders, and shoved her backward, into the railing on the deck, the same one that wobbled whenever anyone touched it. I got out my phone and started recording—my body did it instinctively. He shoved her again, then kissed her, his hands quickening up to her face. She pulled away, then he had the back of her head in the palm of one hand—such a huge, meaty thing, capable of so little and so much. In that moment I pictured Tabby’s skull like something fragile, a robin’s egg, and Mark cracking it in his clenched fist.

  That was the first time I considered that Mark could kill Tabby.

  She would fight back, of course, just like she was fighting now, scrappy and emotional, words sputtering out between tears. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, and maybe neither could he. Then they were interrupted by someone Mark knew and suddenly both of their faces changed, and it was like they were never arguing at all. Mark’s arm went back to its regular post on Tabby’s shoulders and her smile formed, like her face knew exactly what to do.

  They were both so good at pretending. Then again, it’s a survival skill, when you’re a girl, seventeen.

  27

  KEEGEN

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT you expect me to say about the video, except I know Mark had a lot to drink that night. Not that I’m making excuses for the guy. I don’t know what happened between them because I wasn’t part of their relationship.

  Here’s the thing. Even if he did that—if it was him in the video—did he deserve to die?

  Everything starts to feel the same. Maybe Mark was sick of it. Maybe I get it. I’m at a party with Kyla right now and it’s like Groundhog Day, because it’s like every other party. Kyla wears too much perfume. She dances with a couple of her friends, then comes back to me and presses herself against me.

  “Maybe we should go back to your place,” she says. I stiffen against her.

  “Maybe we should get out of town,” I say. “Go somewhere else. Just get the hell out of here, you know.”

  She pulls back. “What are you talking about, Keegan? Why would we get out of town?”

  I focus on the pinch of her eyebrows, then laugh. “Just fucking around. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Now she’s staring at me like she doesn’t know me, and that much is true. She doesn’t. The only person who really did is gone now.

  28

  BECK

  Coldcliff Police Station, November 2, 5:28 p.m.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Let’s talk about the party at Eleanor Ross’s house, where you assaulted Mark Forrester. A video has surfaced from that night. Did the altercation in the video have anything to do with your assault?

  BOBBY GOOD: Go ahead.

  BECK: (laughs) That wasn’t assault. That was two guys having a conversation. I have no idea what the video is all about.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Several sources say they saw you go up to Mark and assault him. He had a bruise on his cheek after.

  BECK: Yeah, the guy bruised like a peach. That’s not my fault. I barely touched him.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: What would compel you to walk up to someone you claim you barely knew, and had no vendetta against, and lay hands on him? Did you think you were defending Tabby?

  BECK: We just had some business to clear up. That’s between him and me.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Business about Tabby. She’s the only thing you had in common, right?

  BECK: Just business. He got in my face. Kind of pushed me backward. So I got back in his face. I don’t just stand there and take someone’s shit like that.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Afterward, you left the party, is that right? Where did you go?

  BECK: I don’t remember. There are lots of parties. I probably got on my bike and just rode.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: Maybe you rode to Queen Anne’s Woods.

  BECK: No. I’m not really much of an outdoor guy.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: We have hikers who said a boy fitting your description and a girl fitting Tabitha’s were seen together in the woods after dark on more than one occasion.

  BOBBY GOOD: That’s pure speculation.

  BECK: Must have been someone who looked like me.

  OFFICER OLDMAN: This would go a lot smoother if you just let me know the real reason why you assaulted Mark at that party. Was it because of what happened in the video?

  BECK: The only person who could have answered that is Mark. And from what I hear, he’s not doing much talking.

  ALLOYEDNEWS.COM

  November 5, 2019

  Alleged boyfriend killer to reportedly tell all in upcoming interview

  By Beth Caan

  Rumors are swirling that Tabitha Cousins, who goes on trial later this month for the murder of her boyfriend, former Princeton swimming star Mark Forrester, may have agreed to a jailhouse interview from Springs Juvenile Detention Center, where she’s currently being held. Sources allege that Cousins wants to tell her side of the story and clear up the rumors. News networks would likely enter a bidding war for the chance to speak with Cousins, 17.

  A source close to Cousins tells the Alloyed News exclusively that “Tabitha is the only one who really knows what happened that day, and she wants to tell the truth. She has nothing to hide.”

  Text message from Tabitha Cousins to Mark Forrester,

  July 29, 2019, 1:17am

  THE GUARDIAN

  November 10, 2019

  Interview request denied for alleged boyfriend killer

  By Mason Livingston

  An interview granted by Tabitha Cousins and h
er lawyer, Marnie Deveraux, reportedly to Hello America, was denied by the Colorado Springs Bureau of Prisons on Friday and will not go forward. Anne Leon, who was in talks to interview Cousins, previously stated that Cousins would bare all about her high-profile case and leave no doubt that what happened to her boyfriend, Mark Forrester, was an accident. The world will now have to wait until Cousins’s trial, later this month, to hear what really happened that day in the woods.

  29

  LOU

  WE WERE GOING TO HAVE a viewing party for the interview, just like we do for The Bachelor when it’s on, just me and a few girlfriends and some of my mom’s rosé. But now it’s not happening, and I’m kind of relieved. I mean, what kind of girl wants to give an interview, which millions of people will watch, just to say she didn’t do it? The kind who wants attention. The Tabitha Cousins kind.

  I almost, almost started to feel sorry for her. But stunts like this remind me that even if she’s innocent of Mark’s death, she’s guilty in other ways. She’s a taker. She takes what she wants, no matter who wanted it first. She took Blanche and she wanted to take Beck and now here she is with the world in her lap like a new toy, and I’m sure she’ll want more than it can give her, too.

  When my mom came home last night, I asked her who she’d been with. I do that, sometimes, just to see if she looks guilty. I mean, if there’s one thing I have in common with my mom, it’s that we’re both good at reading people.

  “I saw a patient” was all she said. But I didn’t believe her.

 

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