Much Ado About Something

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Much Ado About Something Page 14

by Michelle Ray


  “B?” I heard him say.

  In a haze, I turned to him.

  “Define inertia.”

  I knew I was the picture of inertia, but I couldn’t come up with the words to describe it. Instead I lay down on the bed and heard him read his notes out loud. I nodded every once in a while to make it seem like I was listening.

  Peter Donato Hard to concentrate when the slopes are beckoning.

  Sula Blom And with Hope missing.

  Peter Donato Sorry. That, too.

  Beatriz

  On the first day of exams, Ben was waiting for me in the school parking lot, which was super sweet. When Antonio and I had stopped to get breakfast, I’d picked up coffee and a donut for Ben. I asked if Ben had eaten, and when he shrugged, I knew he had. But then he took the cup and bag from my hands, and kissed my cheek saying, “You can never have too much coffee or too many donuts.” Adorable, right?

  Locking his car, Antonio walked past us saying, “You know, you two were funnier when you hated each other.”

  I guess it was true, but underneath the jokes was a lot of hurt, and I didn’t miss it one bit.

  Ben

  B seemed like herself for the first time in days. Bringing me breakfast was only part of it. Other girls had brought me stuff in the past, but they seemed needy. B handing that donut and coffee over just felt thoughtful, like it was making her happy to do something for me. No way I was turning it down. And it was filled with strawberry jelly — my favorite. I didn’t even know she knew that.

  Sula Blom Paris is one day closer. Woo!

  Peter Donato Now who’s being insensitive?

  Sula Blom I can be happy for me and sad for Hope, right?

  Beatriz

  We walked into the gym that was set up with rows of desks. To me it seemed crazy and wrong to have an exam at the scene of the crime, but seniors always tested together in there, and Messina didn’t break tradition. Tradition and appearance — what made Messina Prep tick. Suddenly I hated my school.

  Ben and I picked desks next to each other, and Mr. Werner came up to us as we were settling in. “Any word about Hope? She get to Rhode Island yet?” he asked.

  I shrugged, and he patted my shoulder, which made me sadder than if he’d just left me alone. “Where’s Clay?” I asked.

  Mr. Werner scratched at his beard and looked around to see who might be listening. “Taking exams in the dean’s office. There’s an issue about the source of the video and how he came to see it, so his expulsion is on hold.”

  “He’s going to be allowed to stay?” I asked loudly, and Ben let out a hiss.

  Mr. Werner looked very nervous as other kids filed past and filled in nearby seats. I could hardly hear him as he explained, “Nothing is certain. You know with all the money and power here, nothing’s easy to decide. You piss off one of these parents and you’re scaring off prospective students or you’re in the paper. It’s actually incredible that this thing hasn’t gone public.”

  This was true, and I was suddenly suspicious of how that had happened.

  Ben frowned. “I hope it doesn’t for Hope’s sake.”

  While exams were being passed out, I thought again about how unfair this all was. If Hope were a boy, there would have been no drama. Then I thought about the conversation with my own parents about the condoms and bet if Antonio had had the box, our parents would have brushed it off — or maybe they’d have been concerned, but I bet they wouldn’t have dragged him to the dining room table and grilled him, especially with the girl in question witnessing the whole darn thing. It was so unfair.

  “Good luck, B,” Ben whispered, snapping me back to the gym. I tried to smile.

  Ben

  I opened my test and felt proud of myself. This boyfriend thing was going well. B seemed better, and as I flipped through the booklet, I could see that I’d prepared correctly, focused on the right material. If B heard any of what I’d said during the past few days, she’d do fine.

  Beatriz

  Each of the next two days played out the same way. Study with Ben, return to school, take exams.

  The entire room erupted into cheers when the end of the last test block was called. I couldn’t join in their glee, but sauntered out, and breathed in the cool December air. Then I turned on my cell and heard the ping of a voicemail message. I looked at “Missed Calls.” My mom’s number popped up, then my dad’s, and then my uncle’s.

  My breath caught and the fingerprint reader on my phone didn’t want to work. I tried and failed to remember my password. I punched numbers again and again, and the annoying machine kept telling me to try again.

  Antonio sprinted up, his face red and twisted. “Did you hear?”

  Blood rushed in my ears. “What?”

  “Hope — s-she’s dead.”

  * * *

  “What are you in for?” asks a guy with tattoos around his neck and across his bald skull.

  Ben pulls his knees up and rests his forehead on them.

  “I asked you a question.”

  Silence.

  “You’re gonna need friends in prison. I can help you.”

  Silence.

  11

  Sula Blom Tell me this is a sick rumor.

  Beatriz

  I held my phone hard and my fingers were aching and Antonio was asking something and suddenly Ben was there and he had his arms around me and people were crowding around and Antonio was shouting or maybe I was and teachers came over and I closed my eyes and Ben squeezed harder and I buried my face in his chest and tried not to hear the sound of Antonio yelling and of him being led away. Ben’s heart was beating. Beating. Beating against my ear. It was a good sound. A sound I understood.

  Ben

  I didn’t know what to do for her. I just held her and tried to wrap my mind around Hope being dead. There was no way. She was here just a few days ago. She ran away and we were worried about her, sure, but she couldn’t be gone. That’s not how things ended. You find the person and you laugh about it afterwards. They don’t end up dead.

  The headmaster, Mr. Robertson, came running out to the crowd that had gathered and asked teachers to disperse everyone. He stepped real close to me and B and told her she should come with him, but I’m not even sure she heard. He looked at me so I shuffled a little and she followed, her face still pressed against my chest.

  Antonio was pacing and muttering under his breath, and Mr. Robertson asked us to sit. Antonio sat for a second but popped back up, and B, well she just held me tighter, so I didn’t try to sit. Mr. Robertson stayed on our side of his desk for an awkward second and then went around to his seat and called B’s mother.

  Mr. Robertson said “Uh-huh” a few times and offered his sympathies and asked if she wanted B and Antonio to come home. After a few more “Uh-huhs” he said not to hesitate to call over the break and hung up.

  B was shaking by this point and I kissed her hair and whispered, “It’s gonna be okay,” even though I knew it wouldn’t. Not ever.

  Dead? God.

  Beatriz

  “What happened?” I finally asked Mr. Robertson.

  He cleared his throat. “I, um, I think that’s something your parents should talk to you about.”

  “So you know?”

  He ripped the paper he was holding in half, severing the little kitten’s head printed on the post-it his secretary had given him, and it was all I could do not to scream.

  “Please tell me,” I begged. “I don’t want to wait.”

  His eyes flicked to my brother, who’d finally stopped pacing. “Antonio, maybe you should . . .” He cleared his throat again.

  “Uncle Leo found her in Newport and they got in a fight and she ran and didn’t look where she was going. A car hit her.” He kicked a heavy leather covered chair and knocked it to its side. “Stupid. Stupid!” He looked at Mr. Robertson. “Can we go?”

  Mr. Robertson nodded.

  “Come on, B,” Antonio said.

  I couldn’t move. I dug my f
ingers into Ben’s side.

  “Not him,” growled Antonio. “He goes home. Enough with him at our house already.”

  “Shut up, Antonio,” I said.

  Ben

  I didn’t know what to do. B’s parents weren’t going to be any happier to see me than Antonio, but I wasn’t leaving her if she wanted me.

  Once we were in the hall, B said, “I’m going home in Ben’s car,” and Antonio started to argue, but then Clay poked his head out from Ms. Crouse’s office, where he’d been doing exams.

  We all stared at him as he asked, “I thought I heard Hope’s name. What’s going on?”

  Before I could stop him, Antonio was rushing Clay, grabbing him by the collar. “Hope’s dead because of you!”

  Clay’s eyes were wide and his mouth spasmed with unasked questions.

  “Was it worth it, Clay?” Antonio asked, pushing Clay against the wall. “Is this punishment enough?”

  “Antonio! Let go of him right now!” shouted Mr. Robertson.

  Antonio pushed him again and let go, running out of the building. Clay straightened his shirt, looking shrunken and dazed.

  “I told you I didn’t send — It’s not true, is it?” Clay asked, his eyes darting from me to B to Mr. Robertson.

  Mr. Robertson frowned and nodded. “You’d best go home, young man. We will be in touch.”

  Clay just stood there looking lost.

  A better friend would have helped him, I guess, but B was my only priority. “I’ll take you home, B,” I said, and led her away.

  Clay Chen I wish I could take it all back.

  Lynn Johnson You should be dead. Not Hope. Loser.

  * * *

  Bryce yanks at the tie his mother made him wear. What does he care what a stranger thinks of him? He has to admit that getting a lady lawyer was a nice touch. His parents said it would made a jury think he wasn’t a sexist pig after all. He isn’t sure what he was, except uncomfortable in the tie.

  “When did you appreciate the consequences of your actions?” Bryce’s lawyer asks him.

  “When Hope ran off.”

  The lawyer squints at him from behind her stylish rectangular glasses. “You didn’t think that might happen?”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “Apparently.”

  Bryce wonders if it’s too late to hire someone else.

  12

  Beatriz Garcia Rojas Newport bound.

  Beatriz

  Aunt Cassie was flying back from the Middle East and insisted the funeral be in Newport, meaning kids from Messina would be there. Which was fine, I guess. It’s not like the place had made Hope that happy in the end.

  The past twenty-four hours had been a nightmare. I’d fought with everyone I loved, and doubted everything I did, and that’s when I wasn’t busy crying. My parents were so angry when I’d insisted Ben would come with us to the funeral that Ben and I ended up taking a separate flight from my family. He’d bought me a ticket to Rhode Island and I swore I’d pay him back, but he said not to worry about it. Of course I worried about it, like I worried about everything.

  On top of everything, I worried about how he’d damaged his relationship with his own family when he told them he’d travel with me rather than going on vacation with them. I’d insisted he call his parents about it before we even broached the topic with my own, and what I heard made me so, well, sad.

  “Because she’s important to me,” I had heard him say. “And Hope was my friend, too.” A pause. “You hardly even notice I’m there. I surf all day and hang out on the beach at night, and you’re always at some dinner party until God knows when.” He’d listened. “You gonna hogtie me and drag me on the plane?” Another pause. “My brothers won’t care that I’m not there. Tom is too busy with his girlfriend and getting drunk.” Pause. “It is true, Mom. And is Alex even clean or are we going to be bailing him out of jail and hiding our valuables again this year?”

  I’d considered covering my ears.

  “Maybe it’s not nice, but you know I’m — Mom, don’t cry.”

  I’d winced.

  “Mom. Just say you don’t need me there and I — Sorry. I shouldn’t have — I love you, too. I’ll be home later.”

  I’d forgotten about Ben’s brother, Alex. The last time I’d seen him he was strung out, emaciated.

  People like Ben’s brother died. People with problems. Not people like Hope. This just couldn’t be happening.

  Ben

  This week had been a disaster. I was thinking about what I should have been doing right then. Sitting on the beach. Surfing. Goofing around with my older brother or some of the kids who went to Hawaii for Christmas each year. Being there with B would have been amazing. We could have shopped for a bikini in one of the hotel shops, and she would have said no because she preferred one piece suits, but I bet I could have gotten her to wear one. For me.

  Instead, here I was in a hotel room in freezing Newport with B watching a pretty good movie, while she strained her ears to hear if her parents were in the hall. Despite not talking to us, they’d booked me a room along with theirs. B was staying with her brother, who’d gone out with B’s parents to make arrangements at the funeral home. B said she couldn’t face it. I didn’t blame her.

  Beatriz

  I fell asleep with Ben’s arm around me, and I woke up when the dumb movie was almost over. Ben asked about watching something else, but I said that I wanted to go back to my own room and sleep. I noticed the contraction at the corners of his mouth, but pretended not to, and slipped out the door.

  Ben

  It was only nine o’clock. Six in West Coast time. We hadn’t even had dinner. I was starving, but I didn’t want to go out alone, especially if B suddenly needed me. Or needed me. Right. Like that was going to happen.

  I wanted B to come back and hang out. We could watch another movie, and I could slide my hands along her thighs — damn. I should buy another movie and forget about it. I could order porn, but it’d show up on the bill, and how exactly is I supposed to explain that to her father? Plus, I didn’t exactly want to watch other people have sex. I wanted — no. Respect B. Give her time. Give her time.

  I got under the covers and their softness just reminds me of Beatriz’s skin, and I had to get out. I threw on my jeans on and went down to the hotel bar. No one would be dumb enough to serve me a drink, but I could order a snack. Watching the waitresses in their short satiny uniforms took my mind off of B for a bit, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough anymore. Damn.

  Beatriz

  I couldn’t sleep. I got up, put a sweatshirt over my pajamas, and went to Ben’s door. I hesitated, looking down the hall praying my parents wouldn’t walk out of the elevator at that second, and asked myself what I intended to do when he answered. I wasn’t sure. I knocked and listened but heard no sound. Ben could be inside and pissed, or he could be in the bathroom, or he could be asleep. I knocked again and there was no answer. I shuffled back down the hall and tossed and turned for hours.

  • • •

  The next morning, I threw on my running clothes, trying not to wake my brother, who had come in around eleven. I’d pretended I was asleep to avoid any questions, and I wondered if he heard me now and was doing the same.

  I went across the hall and tapped on Ben’s door to see if he’d want to run with me, and he answered without his shirt. I don’t know why this surprised me so much, but it did. In the best possible way. My legs got all weak and tingly, and I was so completely flustered I couldn’t remember what I wanted to say.

  Ben rubbed his dripping hair with a hand towel and smirked. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “I’m just really tired,” I said, rubbing the sleep, but not the image of his incredible body, out my mind. Really, I could stay all day looking at his chest and touching it, except that I couldn’t and I shouldn’t and — I launched at him, throwing my arms around his fantastically strong shoulders, and kissing his lips, then beneath his ear, then his collarbone a
nd the soft dip in his neck below his Adam’s apple. His hands were on my back and under my shirt and every part of me was on fire.

  Ben

  I kicked the door shut and walked her to the bed while she kept kissing me, thinking that if I’d known it was this easy I’d have paraded around shirtless during the past few weeks. I sank down and she followed, lying on top of me, her lips everywhere. I was really enjoying this, but I had a niggling thought that she was going to stop us any second and it’d be easier not to get too into it. But then she straddled me, her hair cascading over her shoulders and shrouding us in wavy darkness, and I couldn’t make myself not want her and I pulled her to me and kissed her hard, the wet warmth of her lips on my own making me disappear into colorful oblivion.

  “What do you mean she’s not there?” a voice from the hall yelled.

  Beatriz’s head snapped up.

  “Mamá,” Antonio was explaining, “she just went running.”

  “Does she know we’re leaving in an hour?”

  “Shh. People might be sleeping.”

  “I will not shush!”

  “I’ll tell her okay?”

  A door slammed.

  B stared wide-eyed at the closed door, then rolled off of me, covering her face. I touched her hand, but she pulled away.

 

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