by E. E. Cooper
Zach didn’t get angry. He looked impossibly sad, like a puppy that had been kicked. He touched my hand softly. “Sometimes I wish we spent more time together, and I’m not as close to Beth or Britney as you are, but they’re important to you so that makes them important to me,” he said. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”
But I was alone. Beth was gone and Brit was dead. I forced myself to repeat the thought. Britney was dead.
“I still can’t believe it.” Zach shook his head. “Britney never seemed like someone who would do that. Especially not over a guy.”
“It wasn’t about Jason. It was about Beth, and everyone knowing.” I whispered. I didn’t want to say it too loudly. Saying it at all, even to Zach, felt like a betrayal of the dead. “Brit knew people wanted to knock her off her pedestal. People wanted to see her fail. I’m pretty sure that’s what she couldn’t face.”
Zach’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Everyone loves Britney.”
I shook my head. He didn’t get it. Brit was popular and people liked her, but they also envied her. And envy could be dark. It could be dangerous. Apparently, it could kill.
Beth and Brit were best friends, but envy had corroded their friendship. Brit envied Beth’s ease with everyone, her ability to take things as they came and not stress about being good enough for anyone other than herself. I knew that, but Beth must have envied Brit too. Maybe the way Brit’s family was so engaged with her, how money was never an issue. How Brit always had a plan and knew what she wanted. And I guess she’d envied what Brit had with Jason. Envied it so much, she chose to destroy it. Even though that also meant destroying me.
Beth would be sick when she heard what had happened. No matter how tense things got between her and Brit, no matter what she was doing behind Brit’s back, I know she loved Brit too. She’d be devastated by what Brit had done, and probably racked with guilt over her role in it. Maybe that’s why Brit had done it. She felt destroyed, so she wanted to destroy Beth too.
I wanted to vomit.
“Ms. Richards?” I jumped, surprised to hear my name. It was Ms. Eisberg, my English teacher. She passed me a small slip of yellow paper. I took it cautiously, as if it might burn my fingers. “You’re wanted down in the guidance office,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. Just come to class when you’re done, if you feel up to it.”
I nodded and watched as she ducked into the classroom. I glanced down at the hall pass, hoping it might disappear.
“I’ll walk you,” Zach said. He pulled me to my feet and led me down the hall. “My class is on the way to Ms. Harding’s.”
Ms. Harding was our school counselor. She was okay, except for the trying too hard. You could tell she really wanted us to like her, to stop by just to chat. She would sometimes stand outside her door with a bowl of Hershey’s Kisses and wish each of us a “sweet day” as we rushed past. Someone should have told her that desperation repels. She probably had been waiting a long time for this kind of tragedy. I didn’t want to see her.
“You should go. You don’t need to get in trouble for being late.” I pressed my hand to Zach’s chest and felt the regular thumping of his heart. I wanted my own heart to feel that steady. “I’m sorry I’m being so . . .” I tried to find the words.
“No sorry required.” Zach put a warm hand on either side of my face and kissed me. For a second everything felt like it would be okay. He pulled back and I spotted a small spot of shaving cream by his ear that he must have missed, and it made him seem vulnerable and safe at the same time. How had I ever risked everything with Zach? He kissed me again, gently on the forehead this time. “I’ll find you later,” he promised.
I nodded and watched him lope down the hall. I turned toward the guidance office and ran almost directly into Jason as he was coming out. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and swollen and his clothing was rumpled. His skin was ashen. He was usually completely pulled together, a perfect accessory to Brit, but today he was a mess. He grabbed both of my arms above the elbow.
“You know I loved Brit, don’t you?” He pleaded, his fingers digging into my flesh.
I tensed under his grip. Jason glanced down like he hadn’t been aware he was touching me. He let go and ran his hands over his short hair. He looked like a junkie coming down from something.
“She killed herself,” Jason said. It didn’t sound like the words seemed real to him. I knew the feeling. I’d been so mad at him yesterday, but now it felt like he was the only person who understood the enormity of what was happening. What was lost.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. I meant it. As much as I hated how Jason had hurt Brit, I couldn’t blame him for falling for Beth. If Brit’s death was anyone’s fault, it was mine. As the only friend she’d had left, I should have seen it coming. I should have been the one to stop her.
Jason choked out a laugh. “Don’t be so sure. They showed me the note. It’s clear. She said this is all my fault. That I ruined her life. That she had no choice but to end it.”
I sucked in a breath. That sounded like Brit. Vindictive to the end. Of course she wouldn’t go down without taking a few people with her.
“I never meant to hurt her. I didn’t know how to tell her about everything, but I was going to. I never wanted her to find out that way. I wasn’t trying to be cruel.”
“Does Beth know yet?” I asked. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to text her, and I already knew she wouldn’t answer if I called. How do you tell someone this type of news in a text?
Jason closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I have no idea where Beth is or why she took off.”
“You have to know,” I insisted.
Jason shook his head. He looked down at his feet. “It was never Beth. I sort of let Britney think that because I was too much of a coward to tell her the truth.”
The ice surrounding my heart cracked and melted away. I wanted to cry again, this time from relief. The rumors were untrue. Beth had never been involved. “Who was it?” I said. “You were cheating.”
“Sara Green.”
Sara. My mind raced through the student body trying to place her. She was a sophomore. Quiet and studious, the opposite of Brit. I was pretty sure she was in the band. Brit never would have seen her as possible competition. She probably never noticed her at all. Someone like Sara was beneath Brit’s notice.
Sara was attractive, though. She even looked a little like Beth, at least coloring-wise. I could see how if someone had spotted her with Jason and wasn’t looking too closely, they could easily think she was Beth. That would explain some of the rumors.
It was clear Jason didn’t mix the two of them up. The way his voice softened when he said Sara’s name told me everything. It hadn’t been a hookup. Jason was in love.
“Don’t tell anyone about Sara, okay?” Jason said. “I don’t want her dragged into all of this. I was trying to keep her out of it. Things between us just happened, and Sara felt horrible about it. Neither of us wanted to hurt Brit. We cut things off until I found a way to tell Brit, but then Beth took off and all the rumors started. I never meant to get Beth mixed up in everything either.” Jason swallowed. “All of this is my fault, not Sara’s. She was always afraid Brit would find out.”
“Guess she doesn’t have to be afraid anymore,” I said. Jason flinched. I hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly, but it’s hard to be gentle when your friend is dead.
Sara was smart to have been afraid of Brit. If Brit had discovered Sara was messing around with Jason, she would have taken her apart. There would only have been a Sara-sized smear on the ground with broken bits of her clarinet left to mark the spot.
A wave of nausea came over me. Now Brit would never know that Beth hadn’t betrayed her. If only Beth hadn’t disappeared, none of this would be happening. We’d both be taking Brit out for fro-yo and pedicures, and blasting breakup songs and singing along in Brit’s Jeep, helping her get over Jason for good. Beth would get a Jason voodoo doll and we would have burned it on Brit’s
barbeque grill while drinking beer Beth stole from her dad. With her two best friends by her side, Brit would have powered through this. Instead, we’d both failed her, and now Brit was gone.
“I won’t tell anyone about Sara,” I said to Jason. “Though, of course, when Beth comes back, the truth will come out.” I couldn’t blame Sara for not wanting to be connected to this mess. The whole thing was like a black tar pit, dragging anyone who got close into the muck. “Did Brit say anything about Beth in her note?”
Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been allowed to see the whole thing. The police still have it.”
“The police?” I looked past Jason and saw Officer Siegel in Ms. Harding’s office. Of course. I swallowed. “I guess they want to talk to me too.”
“It’ll be okay,” Jason said.
But it wasn’t okay. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, much less the cops. I had to get out of here.
I slumped against the wall. Jason moved quickly to my side.
“Easy,” he said, tucking his arm under my elbow to keep me up.
“I can’t talk to them now,” I said. “I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I want to go home.” I knew I might break into tears at any moment.
“Do you want me to drive you?” Jason asked.
That was the last thing I wanted. I needed to be myself. I needed time to think and cry and grieve. I stood up straight. “No. I can do it. Thank you. And thanks for telling me the truth about you and Beth.”
Jason gave me an awkward hug. “We’re going to get through this,” he said.
I was glad he was sure, because I wasn’t.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as I stepped outside the school doors I stopped short. The harsh white sun bounced off the windshields of the parked cars and stabbed me through the eyes.
I bolted down the front steps toward the parking lot, but with the sun in my eyes I missed the last step and stumbled. I pitched forward, my bag hitting the cement, but just before I wiped out someone caught me by the arm and pulled me up.
“Whoa,” he said.
My heart was pounding in my chest. “Thanks,” I said. I reached over to pick up my bag.
“You a student here?” he asked.
I glanced at him. He was entirely too young and attractive to be someone’s dad. His hair looked messy in a deliberately styled way, and he was wearing enough cologne to take down a horse. “The office is just inside,” I told him.
“I’m not looking for the office. I’m hoping to talk to some students. I’m Derek Iriven. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” He flashed a smile so white it could star in a toothpaste ad.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” I took a few steps toward the parking lot.
“Did you know the dead girl? Britney Matson?”
His words hit like a shot to the chest. I turned to face him. “What?”
He gestured with the hand holding his phone. “I’m curious if you knew Britney Matson, the girl who killed herself. I’m a writer. I’m doing a piece on her and teen suicide. I’m hoping to get some reaction quotes from other students.”
When I didn’t say anything he stepped closer, holding his phone between us. I realized he was recording our conversation.
“It’s your chance to be famous,” he said with a wink.
“I don’t want to be famous.” I turned away, but he walked behind me as I wove toward the back of the lot, where I had parked my car. “Please go away.”
“Did you know Britney? Have any stories you can share? Something to help readers feel like they know her?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” I spat out.
Instead of leaving me alone, he seemed encouraged by my reaction. “I understand she was pretty popular. I know how those girls acted when I was in school.” He made a face like he’d tasted something foul. “Now’s your chance to tell the world what she was really like. Maybe she killed herself because she realized she’d made so many other people’s lives miserable. Maybe she was nothing more than an airheaded, lip-glossed bully.”
I knocked the phone out of his hand, and it hit the asphalt with a loud crack.
“Hey! What did you do that for?”
“Leave me alone,” I said. “Leave Britney alone. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bitch,” I heard him mumble as I yanked open the car door and fell inside. I slammed the door behind me and started the engine.
“You cracked my screen,” he yelled. I cranked up the radio and gave him the finger. He jumped to the side as I started to pull out. Maybe he thought I was going to run him down. Good.
I peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing. I made it two blocks before my hands started shaking. I pulled over into a Wendy’s to park before I crashed.
A hysterical giggle-sob rose up in my throat. If I crashed it would make us pretty much three for three: one runaway, one suicide, and one accident. Our group would become one of those urban legends that other kids talk about in hushed voices over summer campfires.
I jammed the car into park, opened the car door, and leaned out. I thought I might vomit, but nothing came up. I spat, trying to clear the sour taste from my mouth. A few crumpled napkins blew past, the smiling logo on them tumbling over and over. When I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick, I closed the door and leaned back in the seat.
Jason wasn’t messing around with Beth. I repeated it to myself over and over—six times, six more times, and six times again. By the sixth set of six, it was starting to sink in.
Jason hadn’t been messing around with Beth, but Brit had been certain he was. She’d died believing that her best friend and her boyfriend had both betrayed her, and everyone knew and was laughing at her. That would have been hard for anyone to take, but for Brit, it was unbearable. I wished I could tell her that despite her perfect image and polished appearance, the ways she was imperfect had only made me love her more.
Brit had said that on some level, she’d known all along. I wondered what Beth knew. If it was possible Beth had left because she was afraid of what Britney might do.
But that made no sense. Beth wouldn’t have been afraid of Britney’s wrath, because she wasn’t messing around with Jason. All she’d have had to do was tell Britney the truth: that it wasn’t her. Beth was probably as clueless as I’d been as to why Brit had been acting so short-tempered with her lately. The timing of Beth skipping town was just a horrible coincidence.
I felt a spike of anger in my chest. Minutes ago I’d felt bad for Jason, but my empathy was evaporating quickly. Jason and Sara were at least partly to blame. Of course, he couldn’t have predicted that Britney would have done this—but if Jason hadn’t cheated, Brit wouldn’t be dead.
Then again, if Beth hadn’t vanished, she could have maybe stopped this too.
My anger deflated. It was my fault as well. If Beth and I hadn’t been sneaking around, Brit wouldn’t have had good reason to suspect that Beth was hiding something. Beth was keeping secrets from her. But it wasn’t the same secret Brit feared.
I pulled out my phone and called Beth again. It rang and rang, but no one picked up. When it finally clicked to voice mail, I held my breath, wanting to at least hear her voice on the recording, but it wasn’t her.
“The mailbox for this number is full. Please try again later.” I jabbed the phone off.
This wasn’t the kind of news I could leave in a text, but I was running out of choices.
B, please call me. It’s urgent. It’s about Brit. Please, please, please call.
I hit SEND and waited, hoping that she would call me right back, and trying not to read anything into the fact that she didn’t.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As soon as Nadir started to talk, I knew our parents had asked him to call me. My brother is a computer genius, kicks ass at chess, and can touch his tongue to the tip of his nose, but he absolutely sucks at lying.
“Hey, Kay-Kay. I wanted to ask about what we should get Grandma for
her birthday.” Nadir’s voice boomed through the phone line in my room. He only called me Kay-Kay when he either wanted something or had broken something of mine. “I thought we might go in on it together,” he suggested.
“Grandma’s birthday isn’t until June,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s a big birthday for her. We should get something special.”
“What birthday is it?” I pushed.
Nadir paused. Even over the phone I could sense him scrambling to come up with something. “I don’t know, but at her age aren’t they all important?”
I snorted. “That’s the best you’ve got? You’re supposed to be the smart one.”
“Fine, brat. Mom and Dad wanted me to call to see how you’re doing. I was trying to be stealth-like. Heavy on the subterfuge.”
I flopped onto the bed. “When you report in you can tell them I was never the wiser. No reason for them to be disappointed in both their kids.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault you’re all deformed and smell funny.”
I laughed and squeezed my stuffed dog, Roogs. If my brother was teasing and insulting me then at least part of the world still made sense.
“Seriously, how are you?” Nadir said.
“Did Mom and Dad tell you everything?” I asked.
“Yeah. It sucks.” Nadir always had a way with words.
“I didn’t help Britney,” I said, my voice low. “I knew she was upset and I didn’t do anything. I feel like it’s my fault.”
“Did she tell you she was planning to kill herself?” Nadir asked.
“No. I mean, not directly, like that. She talked about how her life was ruined and how she felt betrayed by Beth.” A tear ran down my face, and I used one of Roogs’s ears to wipe it away. I was surprised I was still capable of crying. I’d done so much of it lately it felt like I should have already dried up.
“You totally should have picked up on that. What with your PhD in psychology, and years of working in the field, I can’t believe you didn’t see it coming.” Nadir made a tsk-ing sound.
“I’m serious, Nadir.”