“I was at his house one time after school,” Martin said. “His dad burst into his room without even knocking. He had a piece of paper in his hand. It was a bill from the speech therapist. He ripped into Clark because he was spending all that money and the stuttering wasn’t getting any better. The thing is, it was better. Whenever it was just Clark and me, he hardly ever stuttered. But around his dad it was awful.”
But by the time Clark started junior high, he’d got his stutter under control. He hardly ever stuttered. But it didn’t seem to make any difference to his dad. Once Clark stopped stuttering, his dad got after him for his grades. Then for the fact that he wasn’t as good an athlete as Scott. His dad was always knocking him. If you ask me, that’s why Clark persecuted other kids—to feel better about himself. So, yes, he could be a jerk. But he didn’t start off that way. If he’d had different parents—if he’d had a different dad—he probably would have been a different Clark.
And then Scott had his accident.
Perfect popular Scott went out and got wasted one night and then climbed into his expensive car, revved it up and failed to navigate a bend in the road. Result: he literally wrapped his car around a utility pole. He was in the hospital for months. He severed his spinal cord and ended up in a wheelchair. He suffered brain damage. He wasn’t charming anymore. He wasn’t funny. He wasn’t athletic. He wasn’t even handsome. He was just poor Scott who needed round-the-clock care and whose mother spent a fortune on physiotherapy for him the way she’d spent a fortune on speech therapy for Clark. Except that Scott was never going to get better.
Overnight, Clark became his father’s son, the one who would carry on the family name and inherit the family fortune. His father gave him everything he wanted. He called him “my son,” making it sound like he only had one. Clark wasn’t fooled. He knew what his dad was up to. He’d never forgiven his father for the way he had treated Clark before Scott’s accident. But he didn’t give his dad grief. No way. Instead, he milked it for everything he could get. And he kept right on trying to feel good about himself by proving time after time that he wasn’t as pathetic as a lot of other kids.
He could be such a jerk that sometimes I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him: You’re an asshole, Clark. You’re a bully, Clark. You, of all people, should know better than to make fun of others. You should know better than to do stupid stuff like that.
Except there was one other thing about Clark: he never forgot and he never forgave. If you crossed him, he crossed you off his list, forever.
And, well, he just wasn’t a big enough jerk for me to want that to happen. Clark always had money. He always knew where there was a party. If there was nothing happening, he could fix that. And, of course, where Clark was, Martin was too. If I’d ever told Clark exactly what I thought of him, I probably would never have seen Martin again. Besides, Clark never gave me a hard time. Well, hardly ever.
And Martin didn’t seem bothered by him, so why should I be?
Martin.
He was so sweet. And fun. Especially when he was mellow. Boy, could he ever make me laugh. He was cute too. And smart. And kind. I liked that about him. I was sure it was going to happen between us.
And then Gina told me that Anna had told her that Martin had a thing for my sister—for straight-ahead, never-party Kelly. What on earth did he see in her? I didn’t believe it. Except that he didn’t want to party anymore, and he started to worry about getting busted for drugs because that would be the end of his dream of medical school. Like doctors aren’t supposed to have any fun.
No, I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened the way Gina said. I mean, at first he didn’t want to score so we could have a great time after midterms. But I turned that one around, didn’t I? We had a blast. And I saw the way he looked at me that night. I was there. Anna wasn’t. Neither was Gina. Or Kelly. No, if things hadn’t happened the way they did that night, Martin and I could have ended up together. I know we would’ve.
But they did happen.
And now they were both gone—Clark and Martin. And not only did I have to live with that—with what I’d seen, with what people thought I’d seen, with everything that people were saying—but I had to face everyone too. Sooner or later, I had to go back to school. Alone. Without Martin and Clark.
I didn’t know how I was going to manage it.
THIRTEEN
Kelly
INT.—TYRELL KITCHEN—DAY
MRS. TYRELL is standing at the counter, drinking the last of a cup of coffee. She is wearing a business suit. KELLY is sitting at the table, eating a piece of toast. TEGAN is in the doorway to the kitchen, a scowl on her face.
MRS. TYRELL
It will be good for you. Carla says that Bradley says the best thing you can do is get back into your regular routine.
KELLY
(to the camera)
Carla is my mother’s best friend. Her husband, Bradley, is a psychiatrist.
MRS. TYRELL
Besides, you don’t want to lose your school year, do you?
TEGAN
I just lost two of my best friends. What do I care about the school year?
MRS. TYRELL
You can’t give up. We all face a lot of hurt in life, Tegan. We’re all called upon to be strong. Clark and Martin wouldn’t have wanted your life to stop just because theirs did. I know they wouldn’t. Kelly will walk with you.
KELLY
No, she won’t.
MRS. TYRELL
Tegan is your sister. She’s been through something you can’t even begin to imagine. You’ll walk with her and you’ll look out for her.
KELLY
Why doesn’t she walk to school with Gina? Gina’s her best friend.
MRS. TYRELL looks inquiringly at TEGAN, who shakes her head miserably.
MRS. TYRELL
She wants you to walk with her.
KELLY looks at her mother as if her mother has taken complete leave of her senses.
KELLY
No, she doesn’t.
KELLY glances at Tegan.
KELLY (CONT’D)
Do you, Teeg?
TEGAN
(pale-faced)
Actually, Kel, I kinda do.
MRS. TYRELL
Then it’s settled.
KELLY
(to the camera)
My plan: wait until Mom leaves for work and then take off by myself. Jeez, who does she think she is? Tegan, I mean. She’s spent the last couple of days telling me to mind my own business. And now she wants my help? Fat chance!
MRS. TYRELL remains where she is, arms crossed over her chest.
MRS. TYRELL
Well? Go and get your things, Tegan.
TEGAN shoots an annoyed look at her mother.
KELLY
(to camera)
Well, what do you know? Big sister is thinking the same thing I am—only in her case it’s wait until Mom leaves and then go back up to her room.
TEGAN leaves the kitchen. Footsteps are heard going up the stairs and then, a moment later, coming back down again. TEGAN reappears, backpack slung over one shoulder. MRS. TYRELL pushes herself away from the counter and walks the girls to the door.
CUT TO:
INT.—HIGH SCHOOL HALLWAY—DAY
KELLY stands impatiently beside a locker as TEGAN works the combination to open the lock.
KELLY
(impatiently)
I have to go, Teeg. I have to get to my locker.
TEGAN
Just a sec. I’ll go with you. I promise.
KELLY
I don’t need you to go with me.
KELLY pushes away from the locker she’s been leaning on. TEGAN grabs her arm.
TEGAN
Please, Kel? Just for today.
KELLY
What’s the matter with you? Where’s Gina?
TEGAN
(angry)
Why do you keep asking me about Gina? What does she have to do with anything?
KELLY
Trouble in best-friend paradise?
TEGAN
Please, Kel? People keep looking at me. They’re looking at me now. I don’t like it.
KELLY glances around the crowded corridor. Sure enough, kids are staring at Tegan. Some of them are talking while their eyes are glued to her.
KELLY
They’re just curious. I bet Clark and Martin are the first kids in the whole history of this school who have ever been shot.
TEGAN
That’s not it. That’s not why they’re staring at me.
KELLY
What do you mean?
Before TEGAN can answer, she sees a girl approaching her. She is petite and slender, with long dark hair and piercing brown eyes. She is ANNA GENOVESE, Martin’s sister.
TEGAN
Oh my god! It’s Anna. What am I going to say to her?
ANNA walks straight up to Tegan. She thrusts out her hands and slams Tegan against the wall of lockers.
ANNA
Bitch! Lying bitch!
The hallway filled with students falls silent, as if someone has thrown a switch, shutting off the audio.
ANNA (CONT’D)
How dare you tell the cops my brother was a drug dealer!
TEGAN looks at her in dismay.
TEGAN
I never said that.
ANNA
First you lie about Martin. Now you’re lying to me.
ANNA looks around at the kids in the hall as if making sure that everyone is listening.
TEGAN
I never said anything to the cops about drugs. I never said Martin was a drug dealer.
ANNA
Then how come the cops came to my house and asked my mom and dad and my sisters what we knew about Martin using drugs? You should have seen the look on my mother’s face. It was like that cop had reached right into her chest and ripped her heart out.
TEGAN
I didn’t say anything to the cops about Martin doing drugs.
KELLY peers intently at her sister.
ANNA
Stop lying.
TEGAN
I’m not lying.
ANNA
The cops said Martin smoked up the night he died.
TEGAN
They probably got that from the autopsy report.
ANNA
They said a lot of people at the party smoked up and that Martin was the one who supplied the weed. My mother started to cry when they said that. She’s afraid he was some kind of criminal.
TEGAN
They must have asked someone at the party. They didn’t say anything to me about that.
KELLY
(to the camera)
She’s hiding something. I know that look on her face.
ANNA
The cops asked us if we knew where Martin got the drugs he brought to the party. They asked about everyone Martin had ever talked to, everyone he had ever called—they said they were going to look through his cell-phone records, and they took his computer. My dad asked them why they were doing all that. You know what they said? Do you?
(glaring at Tegan)
They said that it’s possible Martin’s death was drug-related. You know what that means, right? It means they think it’s Martin’s fault he got killed. They think it’s because he was a drug dealer.
TEGAN
(clearly shaken)
It wasn’t me. I didn’t say anything like that.
ANNA glances at her audience again, making sure that everyone is paying close attention.
ANNA
My dad called Clark’s dad to ask him if the cops were asking the same kind of questions about Clark. Mr. Carson said of course not. He said that Clark hadn’t done any drugs that night—he said the autopsy report proves it. He said Clark never did any drugs, like Clark was an angel and Martin was the devil. Martin was ten thousand times nicer than Clark. He didn’t make fun of people the way Clark did or push them around or key their cars for no reason.
TEGAN
Anna, I—
ANNA
Mr. Carson said that he’d hired an investigator of his own to ask some questions. He said the investigator talked to you and that you knew that Martin had a drug connection.
KELLY stares at her sister.
KELLY
(to the camera)
I knew it. I knew she was hiding something.
TEGAN
I didn’t say that.
ANNA
He also said that that’s why you weren’t cooperating with the police—because you knew all about it and you must have seen the guy who did it, but you’re too much of a coward to tell the truth.
TEGAN
That’s not true. None of it’s true.
ANNA
He said that if it wasn’t for Martin and his drug buddies, Clark would still be alive. The Carsons are blaming Martin too. Everyone’s blaming Martin.
TEGAN
I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure no one blames Martin.
ANNA
Really? Then how come the cops are at school today? How come they want to talk to everyone who knew Martin?
ANNA’s hands are curled into fists. Her face is twisted. She spits at Tegan, hitting her square in the face.
ANNA (CONT’D)
I wish Martin never knew you. I hope you rot in Hell.
She turns and strides down the hall, the heels of her shoes click-clicking, past a hallway full of kids who are standing so still it looks like they’re painted on a backdrop. TEGAN fumbles in her pockets but comes up empty. She wipes the spit off her face with the sleeve of her sweater. Then she peels the sweater off and stuffs it in her locker. She slams the locker shut and runs down the hall. KELLY watches her push open the door to the girls’ bathroom. She looks up and down the hallway at all the faces that are still turned in Tegan’s direction.
FOURTEEN
Tegan
Ms. Richards, the principal, made an announcement over the PA system during home form. She said that the police were going to be at the school all day and that they wanted to talk to anyone who knew Clark and Martin. She said that no one had to talk to them, but that she was sure everyone wanted to do what they could to help the police catch whoever had taken two such young and promising lives. Anyone who wanted to could ask for a pass to go down to the office to speak to the police. She also said that the police had some kids they wanted to talk to. Again, she stressed that no one was under any obligation to talk to them and that anyone who decided they had something to say was entitled to have a parent or other adult with them if they wanted. If someone wanted a parent with them but it wasn’t possible to do that today, she said we could give the police our names and phone numbers and they would arrange an appointment.
In my home form, Sara Renard asked for a pass to go to the office. She was on the student council with Clark. I don’t know what she wanted to tell the cops, but she gave me a sharp look as she walked by my desk, as if to let me know that she was going to do something that I hadn’t—she was going to tell the police everything she knew. At least a couple of kids in every one of my classes that morning asked for passes too. A lot of people knew Clark and Martin. I wondered how many went down to the office. I wondered what they were saying.
Then, just before lunch, Mrs. Esterhazy, the vice-principal, showed up at the door of my history class and spoke to Mr. Vincent, my history teacher. I saw Detective Zorbas standing beside her. Mr. Vincent called out Tim Maxwell’s name and beckoned him to the front of the room. He stepped out into the hall, and Mrs. Esterhazy closed the door behind him. Zorbas said something to Tim. I felt like I was going to faint. This was getting worse and worse.
I jumped on Tim Maxwell the minute he stepped out into the schoolyard.
“What did you tell the cops?”
“Jeez, you startled me, Tegan.” He offered me a nervous smile.
“You went to the office to talk to the cops. What did you tell them?”
&
nbsp; The smile vanished from his face. “That’s none of your business.”
“What do you mean it’s none of my business? I was with them when it happened. I saw them get killed. Do you have any idea what that’s like? There was blood everywhere. Clark’s blood. Martin’s blood. They were shot in the head. Both of them. You have any idea what that looks like?”
“Shit, calm down.” Tim glanced around the schoolyard, probably wishing there was someone else nearby, preferably a friend of his, to bail him out.
“You went down to the office. You had something you wanted to talk to the cops about. If anyone has a right to know what you told them, it’s me.”
He stared at me and then looked away, like he was trying to decide what to do—tell me or make a run for it.
“Okay, first of all,” he said, “I didn’t go down to the office. I was called there. And Richards sent Esterhazy up to get me and escort me down. I didn’t have any choice.” He sounded mad. “Someone must have ratted me out.” He stared directly at me.
She Said/She Saw Page 6