Change of Heart

by Norah McClintock

  Colin turned to look at me. His car had a hockey banner sticking up above the rear driver’s-side window. I reached for the door handle as Billy said, “Yeah. Maybe from a rear window.”

  Colin grabbed the phone from my hand.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He started the car. The lock tchonked down. I fumbled to open it, but by then the car was screeching away from the curb.

  We didn’t go far, but it seemed like the end of the earth when we got there. Colin pulled his car to a stop at the edge of some bluffs that towered high above the waterfront. Far below was a park and, beyond that, the water. On a warm spring or summer afternoon, the park would have been filled with cyclists, walkers, picnickers, and people walking their dogs. Motorboats would have been skimming across the lake. But at this time of year the park was deserted. Colin and I were the only people at the top of the bluffs.

  I fumbled for the door handle again. Colin grabbed my wrist and wrenched it away.

  “What are you doing?” I said. “Why are we here? Why won’t you let me out?”

  “I can’t,” he said. “I just can’t.”

  “Morgan knows I’m with you.”

  “Morgan took off. She said she wanted to see her boyfriend.”

  “She’ll know you were the last person to see me.”

  He stared sullenly out the windshield. His hand was like a vise around my wrist.

  “Colin, you have to let me go.”

  Just like that, he let go. I unlocked the door, and this time Colin didn’t try to stop me. He sat rigid in the driver’s seat, staring out over the water below us. I hesitated.

  “Go on,” he said finally, without looking at me. “Get out.”

  But I couldn’t make myself move. A hundred different thoughts were colliding in my brain—the car Billy had seen in the parking lot when he left the arena, the way the killer had covered Sean’s face, what Morgan had told me about Colin, the letter I had found crumpled in the back seat of the car.

  “What happened that night at the arena?” I said.

  Colin slammed his fists against the steering wheel and let out a howl of anguish.

  “He was my brother,” he said. “It was my job to protect him. Take care of him. That’s what my mother always taught us—the bigger ones take care of the little ones.”

  “Jon told me that you protected Sean on the ice,” I said. “He said you kept Sean in the clear. You kept the goons away from him. He said that’s why you were injured so often.”

  Colin was clutching the steering wheel as if it was the only thing keeping him in the car.

  “Was it because of this?” I held up the piece of paper that I’d scrawled Aaron’s cell number on. It was a letter from Colin’s doctor, stating that Colin should not be allowed to play hockey again. The risk of another concussion was too great, and another concussion could prove fatal. “Was it because you weren’t going to be able to play hockey anymore and everyone said Sean was going to go pro?”

  “My dad played professional hockey,” Colin said, still staring resolutely out the windshield. “Not for that long—two years. But he always said it was the best two years of his life. He said that nothing else even came close. He had us on skates practically before we could walk. First Kevin. Then me. Then Sean. But Sean was the best. Sean had real talent.”

  His knuckles were white against the dark covering of the steering wheel.

  “Mr. Charm,” he said. “That’s what my mother used to call him. Everyone liked him. He could talk anyone into anything—Mom, his coaches, his teachers—anyone.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I went to pick him up, just like I promised Mom I would,” he said. “I got there at ten—right on time. I saw that kid come out of the arena.”

  “Billy,” I said.

  Colin nodded. “Sean hated that kid—ever since peewee hockey. You have no idea how he could hold a grudge. Like an elephant. He never forgot. Never.”

  “Tamara said that was one of the reasons Sean started going out with Morgan,” I said. “To get back at Billy.”

  Colin glanced at me. “She’s so pretty,” he said.

  Morgan could turn heads, that was for sure.

  “I asked her out a couple of times,” he said.

  “She told me.”

  “But she always turned me down.”

  I waited.

  “When Sean found out that Tamara was cheating on him, he went nuts. He told her he wouldn’t do the documentary she was planning, even though it would have been good for him. He said he didn’t care. All he cared about was making sure Tamara didn’t get what she wanted. He said he wanted to make her see that she could be replaced just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “So he went after Morgan. Really turned on the charm.”

  He was silent for a few seconds. “Sean knew how I felt about her. He knew I’d asked her out. But he went after her anyway. He brought her to the house. He made out with her on the couch while I was sitting right there watching TV with them. I could see she was embarrassed, but ...”

  Mr. Charm, I thought.

  “When I went to the arena to pick Sean up, I saw that kid, Billy, leaving. I went inside and I saw Sean on the ice.

  I held my breath. What he said next could make all the difference.

  “I asked him what Billy had been doing there,” Colin said.

  I exhaled. Colin had spoken to Sean. That meant that Sean was still alive after Billy left.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He said Billy had come to beg him to leave Morgan alone. Sean just laughed. He said, ‘For that, I think I’ll keep her for a few more weeks.’ He didn’t care about her. He just cared about making Billy and Tamara miserable.”

  “Then what happened?” I said.

  “Then I told him what I’d heard.”

  “Heard?”

  “Some of the guys on the team told me that Sean was going to blow off college. I asked him about it.”

  “And?”

  “He made a promise to our mom. Kevin and I—we never had the grades. Mom was really disappointed. But Sean promised. He was smart, and he promised.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Our mother drove us to all of our practices. She had to get up at five in the morning to make us breakfast and get us to the arena on time, but she never complained. After my dad took off, she had to make a lot of sacrifices to make sure we had the equipment we needed. And the only thing she wanted in return—the only thing—was for Sean to get an education.”

  “Maybe he thought he didn’t need one,” I said quietly.

  “A promise is a promise,” Colin said. “He had talent on the ice. He could have done okay in school, too, if he’d tried. But he thought he didn’t have to. Sean was one of those guys who didn’t realize how lucky he was. He was going to have it all. He could have been nice to people. But instead he just used them.”

  “Did you show him the letter?”

  “He was the only person who knew I had that doctor’s appointment that day. You think he even asked me how it went?”

  “Did you tell him?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “What did he say?”

  Colin stared out over the water and the park far below us.

  “He said I would never have made it anyway. He said I was too much like Dad—all muscle and no skill.”

  “Is that when you—?”

  “Three concussions,” he said. “All of them from watching Sean’s back. And that’s all he could say to me? I lost it. I just lost it.”

  I remembered how his temper had raged out of control when he found out that Jon had tampered with Sean’s helmet—and he hadn’t made that discovery until after Sean was dead.

  “Why did you cover up his face, Colin?”

  “He was my brother. And I knew if I didn’t bring him home, my mom would eventually go looking for him.”

  And she had. Sean’s mother had been the one to find him.

  �
��You knew where Billy lived,” I said. “You followed him home from your house after he spied on Sean and Morgan. You threw the weapon into his yard, didn’t you?”

  “I couldn’t face her,” Colin said, his voice choked with anguish. “I couldn’t face my mom. The idea of her looking at me and knowing what I’d done. And after what happened in the schoolyard ...”

  His hand shot out. I recoiled against the car door. But it wasn’t me he was after. It was the door handle. He pushed the door open.

  “Get out,” he said. “Tell my mom I’m sorry. Tell her—tell her I love her. Tell her I loved Sean. Just, please, don’t tell her the other stuff.”

  “Why don’t you tell her yourself, Colin?” I said.

  But he wasn’t listening to me. He was staring straight ahead, through the windshield and out over the water. He turned the key in the ignition.

  “Get out,” he said. He released the parking brake and gunned the engine. He stared out at the open space ahead. What was he going to do?

  “Colin—”

  “Get out!”

  I closed the car door and settled into my seat.

  “She’s your mother, Colin. She loves you.”

  He gripped the steering wheel. “Get out of the car.”

  “Turn off the engine, Colin.”

  He stared straight ahead.

  “Please, Colin?”

  Nothing.

  I reached over, turned the key, yanked it from the ignition, and threw it out of the car.

  Colin turned. I thought he was going to hit me, but he didn’t. Instead, he slumped forward over the steering wheel, his shoulders shaking. He made a terrible sound. He was sobbing.

  I groped on the floor of the car until I found my cell phone, and I punched in my dad’s number.

  “I

  don’t get it,” I said to Morgan the next morning. She had called me from the restaurant on the ground floor of my dad’s building and asked me to come downstairs. I found her fretting over a latte. She begged me to go with her to Billy’s house. “You’ve already talked to him on the phone. And you’ve known him practically your whole life. What are you so nervous about?”

  “I dumped him,” she said. “I yelled at him. I said all kinds of mean things about him. I treated him worse than anyone, and he still wanted to see me and talk to me and have my picture with him. Do you want me to go on?”

  “But he already told you he still loves you.”

  “I know,” she said. “But ... I’d just feel better if you came with me. Please, Robyn?”

  I said okay. Besides, I wanted to see Billy, too.

  His mother answered the door. She beamed at Morgan. She frowned at me.

  “Robyn, your face—”

  “It looks worse than it feels,” I told her. That was an understatement. I had tried to cover the bruises with concealer, but that just made my face look pale and lumpy. Without any makeup on, the whole side of my face looked like some crazy Picasso painting, all red and black and blue.

  “I’m fine,” I told her. “Really.”

  She looked doubtful but stepped aside to let us in. We found Billy seated at the kitchen table, which looked as if it had been set for a buffet for a dozen people. It was crowded with salads, casseroles, stir-fries, breads, juices—all of it one hundred percent vegan—and Billy was chowing down like there was no tomorrow. He stopped chewing when we walked into the room. His eyes went to Morgan first. He looked at her the way a kid looks when he’s finally presented with the pony or the puppy that he’s always wanted. Then, reluctantly—but I understood—he turned to me.

  “What happened to you?” he said.

  “I walked into a fist.”

  “Someone hit you?”

  I told him what had happened at the arena and then said the same thing I had just said to his mother: “But I’m fine.”

  He smiled at me, turned back to Morgan, and invited us to sit down. “You hungry?” he said, reaching for what looked like some kind of tofu wrap. “My mom bought enough food to feed an army.”

  “How are you doing, Billy?” I said.

  “It was great to walk out of that place. It was even better to be in my own bed last night. But it took me a long time to get to sleep. I kept thinking that maybe someone was playing a trick on me, that maybe the cops were going to come back and arrest me again and put me back inside there.”

  “Colin confessed,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about anything now, Billy.”

  “Thanks to you and Morgan. I know my parents believed me. But you and Morgan were the only people who did anything about it. You were the only ones who were in my corner the whole time.”

  I glanced at Morgan. She was looking down at a bowl of tabbouleh.

  “Morgan?” Billy said softly. He reached across the table for her hand, which looked like my cue to get out of there. As I stood up, I noticed that Morgan was still staring at the salad.

  “Morgan, what’s wrong?” Billy said.

  When she finally looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “I love you, Billy,” she said.

  “I love you too,” Billy said. He reached for her again, but again she refused to take his hand.

  “And I’m sorry I doubted you, too,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” Billy said. “I went kind of crazy when we broke up. I know I was being a pain. I knew it even when I was doing it—I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I wished you’d come to see me, but I understand. I mean, you knew him, and I guess you liked him.”

  “I was an idiot,” Morgan said. “Sean was nothing like you, Billy. Not even close.”

  “You know what?” Billy said. “Let’s not talk about him ever again. The important thing is that you were on my side. You believed in me.”

  A tear trickled down Morgan’s cheek. “No, Billy,” she said in a barely audible whisper, “I didn’t.”

  Billy looked slightly baffled. “What do you mean?”

  “Morgan,” I said. But it was too late.

  “I thought it was you,” she said. “I’m sorry, Billy. But I really thought you did it. I know how stupid that was. You would never do anything like that. But—”

  She stopped when she saw the look on his face. His mouth was slightly open, his head tilted to one side. If he was breathing, I couldn’t tell. He looked like someone who had just been stabbed through the heart.

  “I love you, Billy,” Morgan said again. She was crying now. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry for what I said.”

  Billy stood up and stepped away from the table. “I think you should leave,” he said.

  Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen. I heard his footsteps as he climbed the stairs to his room.

  Billy’s mother came into the kitchen to see what was going on. She looked at Morgan. Morgan wiped at her tears with the palms of her hands.

  “He’s tired,” Billy’s mother said. “I don’t think he slept well in there. I know he didn’t eat well. It’s going to take some time for him to readjust.”

  Morgan stumbled to her feet. I followed her out of the house.

  “You didn’t have to tell him,” I said.

  “Yes, I did,” Morgan said. “I was awful to him. I couldn’t let him think something that wasn’t true. I couldn’t let him love me under false pretenses.” More tears trickled down her cheeks. “I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I never should have broken up with him. I never should have gone with Sean.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  I was sitting in the window at my dad’s place, watching for my mother’s car. I had called her and told her that I’d had a slight accident and that my face was sort of bruised. My dad, who was on his way out when I was making the call, shook his head.

  “You’re just postponing the inevitable,” he said.

  He was right. But I knew my mother pretty well. If I told her over the phone exactly what had happened, she would make it out to be far worse. But if she could see me for herself,
she would eventually realize that although my face looked terrible, I was basically all right.

  “Make sure you tell her that I had nothing to do with it,” my dad had said before he left.

  I was just about to call Morgan to see how she was doing when someone knocked on the door. Because no one had buzzed first to be admitted into the building, I figured it had to be one of the tenants from the second floor. I went to the door and peeked through the peephole.

  Nick.

  My heart raced as I opened the door. “You just missed him,” I said. “And he won’t be back until late.”

  “I know,” Nick said. “I heard him go out.”

  He stood out in the hall, looking right at me with his purple-blue eyes. He was lean and muscular in his black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a well-worn leather jacket over it.

  “Are you really finished with that guy, Robyn?” he said.

  “You mean Ben?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah, I really am.”

  “How come? He didn’t treat you bad, did he?”

  I shook my head. “He’s nice,” I said. “But—”

  “But what?”

  I met his eyes and remembered all the times he had held me close. I remembered how warm I used to feel when he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

  “But he’s not you. I missed you, Nick.”

  He took a step closer to me, forcing me to tip my head up to keep looking at him.

  “I missed you, too.”

  My phone rang. Nick glanced at it. So did I.

  “It’s my mother,” I said. I held my phone to my ear.

  “I’m right downstairs,” she said. “And I’m in a hurry, Robyn. So—”

  “I’ll be right there, Mom.”

  I ended the call and looked at Nick.

  “I have to go.”

  “That’s okay. I know where to find you.”

  Then he kissed me. Lightly. Gently. Sweetly. So sweetly that all I wanted to do was wrap myself around him forever and ever.

  “Nick—”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “I promise.”

  After my mom had seen my face, after she had freaked out, and after I had finally calmed her down again and she’d started the car and pulled out into traffic, she glanced at me and said, “What on earth are you smiling about?”