Very Bad Things

by Susan McBride

  Coach Hart whistled and stepped up as a ref would, prepared to drop the puck, just as Getty said under his breath, “Hey, Summers, when they throw you in jail for hacking up Rose, I’ll get to play first line and tap Katie, too.”

  His pulse pounding in his ears, Mark muttered, “You touch Katie, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’ll bet she’s wild. Way more than Joelle. The quiet ones always are,” Steve said, and laughed.

  The coach let the puck go, and Mark dropped his stick and threw off his gloves, going after Steve. All he felt was fury, all he saw was red heat. He swung at Steve wildly, pounding helmet and pads.

  Then Steve’s stick hammered his skull and, for an instant, Mark saw bursts of light and then a face that looked like Katie’s. She was on top of him, kissing him, and then she was lying on the floor, not moving, and someone was saying, “She’s not breathing, dude. She’s not breathing.”

  Was it Steve? Was it Charlie?

  “Summers!”

  Mark shook off the fog as the coach shouted, “Cut the crap!” Hands tugged at him, drawing him up. He steadied himself on his skates, blinked to focus, and spotted Steve smirking.

  “Guess you do take after your dad,” Getty said. “He couldn’t hold on to his woman either. Pussy,” he muttered, and spit on the ice.

  “You son of a bitch!” Mark hissed, and knocked Steve hard to the ice, sending his helmet flying. Mark kneeled over him, about to punch him in the face when Charlie stepped in.

  “Relax, man.” Charlie dragged Mark up from the ice, pulling him away.

  “You’re crazy, you psycho!” he heard Steve shouting before an assistant coach caught his arm and led him away.

  Mark was breathing hard, tasted blood in his mouth, and it was still another minute before he could say, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He shook off Charlie’s hands and picked up his gloves from the ice.

  Coach Hart grabbed Mark’s shoulder. “What the hell was that? You and Getty got a problem, settle it off the ice!” The older man’s face was purple as he looked at Mark, nose to nose. “I know you’re having a rough time, but you’d better pull it together or you’ll be lucky to play this weekend. Hell, we’ll all be lucky if we don’t have to forfeit. Now get out of here.” He let Mark go. “You’re done for today.”

  Mark glanced up at the stands, hardly hearing the noise of the crowd. His gaze flitted over the rows of faces, stopping suddenly when he spotted the dark hair and dark eyes, the down-turned mouth.

  It was Katie. And she didn’t look happy.

  He blinked, and she turned around. He watched her back as she fled through the nearest exit.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Mark bent down to retrieve his stick and stared at his own blood on the ice, hating that he’d lost control with Steve again. He had to find a way to remember what had gone down at the party, or he’d never be sure he had nothing to do with Rose’s disappearance. And if he couldn’t trust himself, how could Katie trust him?

  She couldn’t, he knew. And in the end, he’d lose her, too.

  “Good morning, Tessa. You’re right on time, as usual.”

  Dr. Capello got up from behind her desk as Tessa entered.

  “Please, take a seat,” the shrink said, gesturing toward a pair of chairs near a large window that framed a narrow creek and a patch of forest, thick with pines. Her dark eyes followed Tessa as she crossed the office and sat down. “Would you like anything to drink? I’ve got juice and water.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Great. Then we’ll get started.”

  Tessa unbuttoned her blazer and crossed her feet at the ankles. She reminded herself to relax and keep her face as expressionless as possible. Shrinks could read an awful lot into a frown or the tiniest smile.

  “I hope it’s been helpful,” Dr. Capello said, “coming in weekly again, what with all that’s going on.”

  “Yeah, it has,” Tessa said. She knew that was what Dr. Capello wanted to hear. All doctors were the same, it didn’t matter what kind. She’d seen enough of them since the fire. When she’d first enrolled in Whitney at eleven, she’d had mandatory sessions with old Dr. Erwin. She’d quickly learned that all she had to do was shed a few tears and he turned into a marshmallow. He’d gone easy on her, never digging too deep. He’d let her ramble about whatever she wanted, while he’d sat attentively, stroking his beard and saying, “Ah, very interesting, my dear.” Whenever he’d asked about her childhood, Tessa had avoided discussing the fire. Instead, she’d bring up the orphanage in Russia where she and Peter had been dumped by their birth mom.

  She really couldn’t remember much about the place. She had been only two when the Lupinskis adopted them. But Peter had filled her in, describing filth and neglect. “I banged my head on crib bars and lay in dirty diapers all day, crying nonstop,” she’d confessed to the doc. Peter had given her his share of rice cereal when she was hungry. Peter had wrapped her in his T-shirts when she had soiled her diapers.

  After she’d finished her sob story, Dr. Erwin would dab his eyes. “Such a tragic tale!” he’d say. “Quite Dickensian. And look at you now. Once a bud with a broken stem and now a rose full-bloomed,” leaving Tessa to feel like she’d scored an A+ on a test.

  Unfortunately, Dr. Capello wasn’t nearly as easy to impress.

  “We’ve been talking about your friendship with Katie,” the shrink said. She cocked her head so her dark ponytail fell across one shoulder. “You first met here at Whitney when you were freshman, is that right?”

  “Yeah.” Tessa nodded, lacing her fingers in her lap. “They stuck us together at Amelia House. We’ve been roommates ever since.”

  “Roommates and best friends?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Tessa agreed.

  “You feel a kinship with her, don’t you?”

  “We’re connected, yeah,” Tessa said, because it was the truth. “Her dad killed himself, you know. That was hard on Katie. She knows what happened with my parents, how they died in the fire.”

  “And your brother, too,” Dr. Capello added.

  “Peter.” Tessa said his name even though the shrink already knew it.

  “You were seven when they died?”

  “I was in second grade.” Tessa closed her eyes.

  “I know you lived in several foster homes before you came to Whitney on scholarship at eleven.”

  Tessa sighed. “You obviously know the answers, so why keep asking me about it?” She hated feeling like she was being manipulated. “That doesn’t have a thing to do with Katie and me or The Box.”

  Dr. Capello didn’t flinch. “It’s just that you seem to relate to Katie so well because you’ve both suffered terrible losses. That’s all. There’s no ulterior motive here.”

  Right. Tessa nearly laughed. But she relaxed, uncurling her fingers from fists. She slid her hands along the arms of the chair. “Katie understands me, and I understand her in a way that no one else does. That no one else ever will.”

  The shrink pursed her lips. “What about Katie’s boyfriend? You don’t think he understands her?”

  “Mark Summers?” Tessa rolled her eyes. “Katie thinks he does, but I don’t see how it’s possible. She’s not even his type. He dates girls like Joelle Needham who wear too much makeup and carry Zac Posen bags.” She plucked at a bit of fuzz on her skirt. “Katie’s not superficial like that.”

  “But Mark is?”

  “Yeah,” Tessa said, lifting her chin. “Totally.”

  “Ah,” the shrink murmured, and scribbled on her tablet with a stylus. Tessa could hear the faint tap tap. “I’ll bet it’s hard sharing her with someone else, isn’t it? Particularly when it’s someone you don’t like.”

  Tessa stiffened. “I’m not sure they’ll be together much longer. They’ve almost broken up already. Katie still has time to change her mind about following him to college. He’ll probably get a stupid hockey scholarship at an Ivy League school, and she’ll end up at the closest community college just to be with him.�
� Tessa got fidgety because just bringing it up ticked her off.

  “Oh?” Dr. Capello arched her plucked eyebrows. “So you’d rather she go to the same school as you?”

  Tessa smoothed her hands on her skirt. “It’d be nice if we could stay near here. There’s a decent enough state university close by. It would be good for everyone, I think.”

  “Everyone meaning you and Katie?”

  Tessa shrugged.

  “I’m curious,” Dr. Capello said, and tapped the stylus against her chin. “Did you know Mark before? When you started at Whitney, I mean. His father was headmaster by then, and you’re the same age. It’s a pretty small school.”

  “Everyone knows him.” Tessa clasped her hands in her lap. “He’d be kind of hard to miss.”

  “Did he ever do something to hurt you, like tease you or bully you?”

  “You make it sound so simple.” Tessa gave her a funny look. She couldn’t help it. “I could lie and tell you he called me names and tortured me. But he didn’t.”

  “Then why do you dislike him?” Dr. Capello crossed her legs, leaning forward. “He seems popular enough. Homecoming king, captain of the hockey club.”

  “Do I have to like him just because other people do?”

  “No. But there’s usually a reason for disliking someone. A history.”

  Tessa hesitated. “It’s not just him, it’s everyone like him. They don’t appreciate what they have,” she finally said. “Mark has a father who goes out of his way to protect him, and he takes advantage of that, like having that party while his dad was away.”

  “So that makes him unlikable?”

  Wasn’t that a good enough reason? Tessa sighed, taking it further. “He cheated on Katie! That makes him unlikable.”

  “But Katie doesn’t agree?”

  Tessa frowned. “Katie was lucky to find out who he really is before it was too late. If he did something to that girl, Rose, who’s to say Katie wouldn’t be next?”

  “You think he’s violent?”

  “Have you ever watched him play hockey?”

  “It’s a rough sport,” Dr. Capello said. “But it’s not real life.”

  Tessa snorted. “Maybe you should go to the rink sometime. You might change your mind.”

  Dr. Capello stared at her for a long, uncomfortable moment, then glanced down, scribbling on her tablet again. “So Mark isn’t the right guy for Katie?”

  “He’s not like us,” Tessa said, scooting to the edge of her seat, wishing the shrink would see her point. It wasn’t like it was so complicated. “He’s been given everything on a silver platter. If you haven’t ever gone through something horrible, you can’t appreciate when you’ve got someone special in your life.”

  “His father raised him alone,” the shrink said, and Tessa nodded—it was something everyone at Whitney knew. “In a way, he lost a parent, too.”

  “Please.” Tessa wanted to scream. “His mother’s not dead, is she? She just ran off with some guy. Mark could see her if he wanted to. It’s not like he had to stand outside his own house and watch it burn, knowing who was trapped inside and not being able to do anything about it.”

  Tessa clamped her mouth shut. She’d said too much already.

  Dr. Capello set aside her tablet. “Would you like to—”

  “Talk about it?” Tessa felt like she’d explode if anyone asked her that again. “No, thanks,” she said coolly. She jumped up from the chair and walked to the big window. “Are we done?” she asked, and gazed out to the woods, where a bunch of men had gathered. Two of them were holding dogs that strained on their leads. “I should really go find Katie. She’s not taking things well. Life can be rough on sensitive girls.”

  “Life can be rough on everyone.”

  Tessa kept staring out the window. “Does it ever make you numb, Dr. Capello, hearing everyone’s problems day after day after day?”

  “When people feel broken, sometimes they feel ignored, too. They just need someone to hear them. I do my best to listen.”

  “What if they’re too broken to fix?” Tessa asked, touching her fingertips to the glass. “What do you do with them then?”

  “I try to help them change.”

  “What if it’s too late to do anything at all?” Tessa asked, staring outside, watching the men and the dogs weave through the trees, making circles, their movements increasingly frantic. “What if they can’t change? What if they’re so screwed up they’re more like ghosts of themselves than real people?”

  She saw Dr. Capello’s reflection in the glass as the shrink came up behind her.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you, Tessa? Don’t be afraid to ask for help. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

  “Anything you can do for me?” Tessa turned around. She made a noise of disbelief. “You think I was talking about myself?”

  “I don’t know,” the woman said, looking her in the eye. “Were you?”

  “No, Dr. Capello, I wasn’t talking about myself.” Tessa’s hands started shaking. “Unlike the majority of self-absorbed snobs at Whitney Prep, everything I say isn’t always about me.”

  Then, without another word, she left.

  After her first class, Katie waited for Tessa outside the administration building. She knew Tessa had a Wednesday-morning session with Dr. Capello, and Tessa rarely missed classes or mandatory counseling. Her scholarship depended on it.

  Katie hadn’t seen her since the night before. Tessa still wasn’t in bed at four a.m. when Katie got back from the greenhouse with Mark. She hadn’t returned to their room by the time Katie had to dress and leave. Where had Tessa gone and what was going on with her? Why was her best friend keeping secrets?

  When Katie saw Tessa’s pale hair glinting in the sunlight, she waved her down. “We need to talk,” she said.

  “What’s with the sour face?” Tessa asked. She had her thumbs looped in the straps of her backpack. “You look like you OD’d on toxic waste.”

  “No more games, Tessa,” Katie said, too tired for verbal sparring. “Just tell me where you went, okay?”

  “What do you mean, where I went?” Tessa replied. “I was getting grilled by the school shrink, like every Wednesday. She had me trapped in her office for an hour. Now you’re in my face, too? Jeez.” She shook her head and started walking.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Katie hurried to keep up. “Where’d you go last night? I woke up from one of my freaky dreams, and you were standing by my bed.” Katie had glimpsed Tessa’s pale skin and pale hair. Who else could it have been? “Then you ran out of the room, and I found a rose petal on the floor—”

  “What?” Tessa stopped walking and gave her a funny look. “That’s bananas.”

  “Have you been watching me at night, Tessa?” Katie asked, because she couldn’t help wondering. “Are you trying to psych me out or something?”

  “You think I’m the ghost from your dream? You’re joking, right?”

  But Katie was dead serious. “You’re hiding something.”

  “And you must be on something,” Tessa shot back, “because you’re totally imagining things. I couldn’t sleep, so I went down to the basement to watch TV again. That’s all.”

  “You were in the basement?”

  “There was a Real World marathon, so I tuned in until I fell asleep,” Tessa said, so easily that Katie might have believed her.

  Except she knew it was a lie.

  Katie stared at her friend, her heart aching. There was no question in her mind that Tessa was covering something up.

  “What’s with the third degree?” Tessa turned aside as a group of students brushed past. “You weren’t in bed when I came back upstairs. So maybe I should ask where you were, and please, don’t tell me you snuck out with Mark again.”

  “I wouldn’t have run into him if I hadn’t been looking for you, and thank God I did or I’d still be stuck in the tunnels,” Katie said without thinking.

  Tessa turned red.
“You did see him, Katie! What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with you? You’re avoiding my question,” Katie said. “Where’d you go, Tessa?”

  Why did they always go in circles? Why wasn’t Tessa coming clean? Why was her friend turning this around on her? Katie was getting such weird vibes she didn’t know what to do. She opened her mouth to say, “Just tell me what you were doing in the steam tunnels and why you ran away from me,” when a scream stopped her cold.

  “They found her!” someone yelled from farther up the sidewalk. Suddenly, she heard the dogs, howling so loudly the air practically vibrated around them.

  Had the search dogs tracked Rose?

  Katie glanced ahead, squinting, and grabbed Tessa’s arm. “Oh, my God,” she said, and her stomach did a nervous flutter. “Let’s go.” She flung her book bag over her shoulder and started running, following a crowd of people.

  Katie felt like a wildebeest merging in with a migrating herd as she raced across campus. Elbows, feet, and book bags swung this way and that, bumping into her as the herd cut through neatly trimmed lawns between the stone buildings, then rushed down the gently sloping hill toward the creek.

  “Hey, wait up!” she heard Tessa call from behind her, but she didn’t slow down.

  Her breath came hard and fast as she ran toward the greenhouse and the maintenance shed. Then the forward motion of the students slowed and ground to a halt.

  “Excuse me, sorry,” Katie said, pushing her way through until she found the cause: the campus police were setting up sawhorse barricades on the near side of the creek so no one could cross.

  “Stay back, please, stay back,” they kept saying, doing their best to keep the students a safe distance from the woods.

  “Is it true, they found the missing girl?” a girl asked the campus cops.

  The cops looked at each other but didn’t answer.

  Katie strained to see what was going on not more than thirty yards away. The braying of the dogs went on, rattling her eardrums. She watched one of them, a reddish-colored bloodhound, pulling hard against the leash held by a police officer.

  “Bring the shovels!” a deep voice bellowed from the woods.