We Know It Was You

by Maggie Thrash

  She texted him again: Almost here? <3<3 <3<3 xoxoxx

  Winn had disappeared after the OK Café and apparently gone home. She’d practically had to beg him to come back out for the after-party. Winn was like that sometimes—he was sensitive and moody and needed to be alone. Corny found it very manly and tried to humor his moods as much as possible. But this was kind of unacceptable. The woods at night were romantic, but they were also spooky. What if that scary voodoo freak Zaire Bollo came out and put a spell on everyone again? Winn needed to be there to protect her. Corny barely remembered anything from that day since the spirit show, but apparently someone screwed with her hair, because all the layers were choppy and funny looking. But whatever! She’d put some cute barrettes in for now and had an appointment at Flair tomorrow to get it fixed. Nothing was going to spoil this magical evening of victory and s’mores and cloudless night sky.

  Margaret Inman passed by with another plate of Jell-O shots, and Corny grabbed one.

  “Where’s Winn?” Margaret asked.

  “Oh, he’s coming,” Corny assured her. She downed the Jell-O shot and licked the sticky sugar residue from her lips.

  “Careful, girl!”

  “Now I’ve . . . had . . . the time of my liiiiiife . . .”

  There were squeals of laughter as Jamie Bannish turned up the volume on the boom box to max. A bunch of girls collapsed into giggles. Jamie was pretending to be Gerard, and Steve Sommer was pretending to be Trevor, which would have been funny, except it was the third time they’d done it since the party started, and the drunker they got, the gayer their reenactment got, with Steve practically humping Jamie’s leg at this point. It was starting to feel uncomfortable and ruining the romance of the evening. Corny looked around to make sure Gerard wasn’t there before she dutifully laughed along with the other cheerleaders.

  “Y’all!” she chided good-naturedly, wishing they would stop.

  “Now I’ve . . . had . . . the time of my—”

  A scream pierced through the song. Corny whirled around. It didn’t sound like a scream of excitement—it was like someone having a nightmare. And it was immediately followed by another scream. Someone ran past her, slamming into her shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  A plate of Jell-O shots flew threw the air, the pink blobs splattering across the ground like pieces of exploded brain.

  “RUN! RUN!” someone was screaming.

  “What’s happening?” Corny shrieked.

  And then she saw it.

  A shadowy mass of fake fur and plastic teeth was crouching in the shadows, like it was hiding. As soon as Corny saw it, it leaped out at her. Its arms were wide open, as if to say, Hug me! Love me! But its grin was malicious and insane. Corny stumbled backward, almost falling. Then she turned and ran. The mascot followed on thumping feet, its paws outstretched to catch and crush her.

  The woods, 12:30 a.m.

  It wasn’t Virginia’s first campfire party. She’d gone to all ten of them last year—campfires were always the best for gossipmongering. The darkness brought out everyone’s wild side. Virginia remembered night skies dotted with twinkling stars, and people dancing around a blazing fire like in a music video for a country song. But as she looked around now, it didn’t seem that way. There were no stars; the sky was ugly and bruise colored from the city’s light pollution. The fire was puny and smoking. No one was dancing except Jamie and Steve, who were only making fun of Gerard’s sprit show performance. And people’s laughter didn’t sound magical and delightful, it sounded drunk and coarse. Had Winship parties always been this stupid? What gossip was there to be had? BREAKING NEWS: Football Player Acts Like Idiot. Ginger Rollins Wears Hideous Shirt. Corny Sits on Wrong Lap Thinking It’s Her Boyfriend’s. Who cared?

  Virginia wished Benny were there. Not because he’d be such a great date—in fact, the idea of socially navigating him through the evening was exhausting—but because genuinely interesting things seemed to happen when Benny was around.

  “Now I’ve . . . had . . . the time of my liiiiiife . . .”

  The song seemed to be mocking her. The only reason she was even at this party was because Chrissie had begged her to come. Chrissie hated going to parties by herself, which Virginia didn’t understand at all. Going to parties by yourself was pretty much the coolest thing a person could do. Just stride in alone like the most mysterious and unfathomable creature on the planet. But Chrissie was so insecure she could barely tiptoe to the bathroom without checking her face for zits first. It was the same routine as last year: Chrissie changing her clothes a million times (as if a pink V-neck and jeans were any more or less exciting than a blue V-neck and jeans) and then clinging to Virginia for an hour or however long it took to down five Jell-O shots and be drunk enough for Virginia to ditch.

  “Want one?” Chrissie asked, holding up a pink jiggling square.

  “No thanks,” Virginia said. She’d seen how stupid people got on that stuff. As if anyone at Winship needed assistance to act like an idiot.

  Chrissie heard the screaming first.

  “Did you hear that?” She looked around.

  “Hear what?”

  Then there was another scream, one that came from right behind them.

  Virginia spun around. People were running, dropping their drinks and marshmallows onto the dirt.

  Oh my God.

  The mascot emerged from between two trees, looking ghastly in the dim firelight. The suit was dirty and muddy and matted. The plastic head was off center. As Virginia stared at it, the mascot raised its furry hands and adjusted its face slowly until its huge white eyes stared back at her. Then it lunged forward.

  Virginia shrieked. She looked around for Chrissie, but she was gone. She could hear people screaming in the woods all around her. The mascot took another giant step. Virginia didn’t know whether to stand her ground or run.

  She ran. Everyone else seemed to be running toward the road. Virginia ran toward the bridge. Her feet pounded onto the 150-year-old wooden slats. She made it to the center and then stopped and looked back. Was the mascot following her? Who was inside? And how had it resurrected itself from the river? She couldn’t see anything but a spot of yellow campfire amid the blackness of the trees. Below her, the river rushed past, its sound dulling the screams. Virginia stood, frozen.

  “Virginia.”

  She jumped and whirled around. There was a man on the other side of the bridge. He stepped toward her, a silhouette of blackness. She recognized his outline immediately. No boys at Winship had hair like that.

  “Are you . . . are you following me?”

  “Yes.”

  Virginia’s heart slammed in her chest. She started to back away.

  “It’s cool,” Min-Jun said. “Be cool.”

  Virginia stopped.

  “I had to find you again.”

  “Well . . . here I am.”

  He closed the distance between them slowly. Then he leaned on the low railing and looked out at the river. Virginia found herself relaxing a little. Not much, but a little. Min-Jun’s body language was casual; at least he wasn’t blocking her path. Virginia inched away the tiniest bit, but tried to seem casual too. She glanced across the bridge, preparing to bolt.

  “Did you tell on me? To that cop?”

  Tell on me? It was something a ten-year-old would say. You don’t “tell on” a child pornographer; you “report them to the authorities.” Virginia gave Min-Jun a sideways look.

  “No,” she said. “I didn’t tell on you.”

  Min-Jun sighed, relieved. “Whew. Wow. I knew you were cool. I just freaked you a li’l, didn’t I? You’re a cutie. No one’s touched you before.”

  He looked at her, and Virginia immediately looked away.

  “I don’t—that’s not—”

  Shut up, she ordered herself. If she couldn’t be cool, she needed to be quiet. She looked around. Where was the mascot? Where was anybody? Everything was quiet all of a sudden.

  Min-Jun laughed
. “So . . . you gonna keep my money? Or give it back?”

  “Give it back,” Virginia said.

  “Okay then, hand it over. No hard feelings. You’re just not up for this.”

  “Yes I am!” Virginia said. Why am I getting insulted? she thought. It’s not like she wanted to be in a porn ring. But even though Min-Jun was weird and gross, she didn’t want him thinking she was a priss. She still wanted to be cool. Was that pathetic?

  Min-Jun smiled. “Maybe next year, cutie. So where’s my cash?”

  “It’s in my room,” Virginia answered. It was the truth.

  “Let’s go get it! I’d love to see your room. What color is your bedspread? Pink?”

  “It’s toile,” Virginia said.

  “What’s twall?”

  “It’s like, pictures of flowers and goats.”

  Min-Jun chuckled. “Okay, let’s go see these goats and get my money.”

  “Um, I don’t know. We’re not supposed to have guests. . . .”

  “I’ll sneak in your window.”

  Virginia shook her head. “I’ll just . . . I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

  “Give it to me tonight.”

  Now he was facing her. In the darkness his long silky hair was blacker than black. The river seemed louder all of a sudden. It was the blood rushing to Virginia’s head. She felt dizzy. Min-Jun was touching her hand. His fingers were cold and clammy.

  “Don’t freak out,” he said. “We’ll go reeeal slow.”

  Then there was a loud rumble of thunder. Virginia reflexively looked up. But the sky was still cloudless and mauve. In a split second she realized it wasn’t thunder. It was thundering footsteps pounding across the bridge.

  THWACK!

  A hulking shadow slammed Min-Jun’s head against the rail. Virginia jumped back.

  “Awww!” Min-Jun moaned, crumpling in a ball.

  “STAY AWAY FROM HER!” the shadow growled. “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!”

  A wave of golden hair and blue letter jacket became apparent in the darkness.

  “Oh my God, Winn?” Virginia said.

  He’d knelt down and was punching Min-Jun’s face. Each punch landed with a grotesque smack. “THAT’S. MY. GIRLFRIEND.”

  Virginia heard a terrified squeal behind her.

  “Winn!” It was Corny. Her phone was open in her hand. “What is he doing?” she shouted at Virginia.

  “I don’t—I don’t know!”

  “We’re on the bridge,” Corny said into the phone. “Please hurry. Winn! Stop! Stop him, Virginia!” she yelled. “Why is he beating up your boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Virginia said. She turned back to Winn, who was continuing to pummel Min-Jun, probably breaking his skull with his fists. The sound of each punch made Virginia feel more sick.

  “Winn!” she shouted. “Stop it! What are you doing?””

  Winn whipped around. His face looked crazed. He grabbed Virginia’s head. “STAY AWAY FROM HIM,” he snarled at her. “HE’LL FUCK YOU.”

  He yanked her by the hair, so hard she felt her scalp burn with pain. He dragged her across the bridge, away from the bloody heap of Min-Jun.

  “Ow! Let go!” Virginia shouted. “Let go of me!”

  “WINN!” Corny shrieked. At the sound of her voice, Winn let go of Virginia’s head. A small tuft of blond curls came away with his hand. He looked at Corny. Then he looked at Virginia.

  “Winn?” Corny said in a tiny, confused voice.

  Winn swayed unsteadily. Then he tipped forward and threw up. Vomit splattered across the wooden bridge.

  “Ew!” Corny yelled, jumping back.

  Virginia peered past him to Min-Jun, who was lying motionless. Had Winn killed him?

  “Freeze! Everybody freeze!”

  Virginia turned. Flashlights were shining in her face. She squinted, blinded. Then she heard a woman’s voice—

  “There. I told you that was her.”

  The road, 1:00 a.m.

  There were three cop cars, with officers piling a different guy into each one. The first was Min-Jun, bloody and barely able to stand. The second was Winn, a brown stain of vomit running down his shirt. Corny was crying and pleading with the officer handling him. “Be gentle! He’s a sweetie; he just doesn’t know his own strength! I love you, Winn!”

  Winn looked dazed as he disappeared into the back of the car.

  The third was the mascot. Except he wasn’t the mascot anymore, he was just a dumbass in a letter jacket.

  “GRRROOOWL!” Trevor Cheek yelled, grinning as he ducked into the car. “I’m gonna get you! I’m gonna GET YOU!”

  “Shut up,” a cop snapped at him.

  The mascot head and soggy suit sat in a heap next to a tree. The story was that Trevor had found them washed up on the riverbank next to the football field and thought it would be hilarious to scare everyone. That was so Trevor. Other people’s fear seems hysterical when you’re a linebacker and no one can touch you.

  The cop cars lit up the scene with their red and blue lights. Virginia watched from a little ways away. Everyone was trying to leave, but one of the cruisers had blocked the exit to the road. Virginia gingerly touched the spot on her head where Winn had ripped out a small patch of her hair. Her fingers came away with a little blood on them.

  “Some night, huh?”

  Virginia turned around. Detective Disco and Detective Holling were standing together with their arms crossed. Their flashlights pointed toward the ground, creating a spotlight at their feet. They looked like they were posing for a TV show about cops busting kids. Bad Teens, it would be called.

  “You can’t arrest me,” Virginia said immediately. “I haven’t even been drinking.”

  Detective Disco narrowed his eyes. “Why would we want to arrest you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying . . .”

  “Do you need to be arrested?” Detective Holling asked. Car doors slammed behind them.

  “No,” Virginia said.

  “Can you tell us what that fight was about? On the bridge?”

  “I have no idea . . . ,” Virginia said, bolstered slightly by the fact that she wasn’t even lying. She really had no idea. Did Winn know about Locker Room Wildcats somehow? Was he defending Corny’s honor? “I guess Winn thought that guy was hitting on his girlfriend.”

  Detective Holling nodded toward the first cop car, the one with Min-Jun in it. “Do you know him? He doesn’t look like a Winship student to me.”

  Virginia shook her head slowly. “I don’t know him. I was just standing there.”

  Detective Disco stared her down. He looked even taller than she remembered.

  “Where’s your friend?” he asked.

  “What friend?”

  “Your pal with the glasses. The one in charge.”

  Virginia scoffed. “He’s not in charge! We’re both in charge.”

  Detective Disco gave a phony smile. “Sure you are. You wanna give him a call? Ask him what to say?”

  “I can say what I want.”

  “Which is . . . ?” Detective Holling prompted.

  “Which is nothing,” Virginia snapped. In her mind she frantically tried to remember what the official story was. Mr. Choi snuck into the mascot suit to watch cheerleaders undress, and then flung himself off the bridge? For no reason? She wished Benny were there. He could remember who knew which details better than she could. He could see the big picture. Just keep your mouth shut, she told herself.

  “What is going on at this school?” Detective Disco asked flatly.

  Virginia shook her head. She started backing away, half expecting them to stop her and cuff her and throw her in the car with Trevor. They didn’t. They just stared at her.

  “Can I take that?” she asked, pointing to the mascot suit on the ground.

  The detectives glanced at each other.

  Oops. That was a mistake. Now they looked really suspicious.

  “The coaches were looking for it,” she said. “I
t cost, like, three thousand dollars. . . . I know where it goes.”

  Detective Disco let the moment hang. Virginia raised an eyebrow like, What?

  “Sure,” he said finally. “Take it.”

  Quickly Virginia picked up the suit and plastic head. She turned and started walking toward the Boarders, not looking back in case he’d changed his mind. There was a chill in the air as she crossed the bridge.

  What am I doing?

  She hadn’t intended to pick it up. She didn’t know what she planned to do with it. She just felt this weird connection, like she couldn’t leave it there. But she hated it. She adjusted it in her arms so its eyes faced away, gaping out into the darkness.

  The Boarders, 3:30 a.m.

  Someone was crying.

  It wasn’t the most unfamiliar sound in the world. People cried in the Boarders all the time. But this was different. It wasn’t the crying of someone who was lonely or stressed or having a bad dream. It was the crying of a ghost—hopeless, drained of life, not knowing or caring whether anyone overheard.

  Virginia got out of bed. She opened her door a crack and listened. It was coming from Zaire’s room. She crossed the dark hall on bare feet. Then she knocked lightly.

  Oh wait, damn it, she thought as soon as her knuckles hit the wood. It wasn’t something Benny would have done. She should have called and asked him first. But it was too late. The door was opening.

  She’d never seen Zaire without makeup on. It was kind of a hideous sight. She had puffy circles under her eyes, her nose was shiny, and her chin was dotted with purplish zits. Her lips were pale and cracked and gummy. She stared down at Virginia through watery eyes, looking confused and angry.

  “You?”

  Virginia shrugged. “Um, who were you expecting?”

  “Nobody. Gottfried. I was hoping you were Gottfried.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Jesus, why?” Why would Zaire want any boy to see her like this?

  Zaire turned and threw herself on the bed, not seeming to care whether Virginia stayed or left. Virginia noticed a tall, half-empty bottle of gin on the desk, along with a cocktail shaker and a jar of olives.