Van shushed me again. Then he stopped, holding a wispy branch high to let me pass. After I’d inched past him, he held perfectly still, listening. I saw an abandoned hammock strung between two trees close to the path, right next to us. The greenbelt was inhabited at night. People lived down here. I imagined an infrared camera showing the bodies that were no doubt right near us. We didn’t know where they were and I didn’t want to take anyone by surprise. I wanted to get back home, back to the light.
“Kevin woke up,” I whispered. “I wanted to warn you. That’s all.”
“What did you see? From your window,” Van whispered back. The trail was tight and he stood above me. I felt like the trees were compressing us, closing in. I slapped at tiny bugs that swarmed my hair.
I avoided his question, embarrassed that I’d been looking. A voyeur.
“It’s important,” Van said. There was urgency in his voice.
“Caroline.”
“You saw her, too?” he asked.
“Yes. First her, then you. Do you need help finding her?”
“No. I think I know where she is. I can take you back.”
We both saw the pinpoint of a phone flashlight up the hill, through the thick trees. No doubt following the light of Van’s.
“Fucking Kevin,” Van muttered. “Of course he’d figure it out.”
Van pushed in front of me and grabbed my hand. I let him hold it even though it was awkward to be led and would have been easier to have both of my hands in case I fell. I was just scared enough that I wanted him to hold it. Van didn’t let go, even after we connected to the well-worn, often-used path that led the masses to the creek when it was flowing. When I stepped into the moonlit clearing by the creek bed, I stopped.
“I got it from here. I know how to get home,” I said. I dropped his hand. He could go meet his girlfriend.
Van just stood still, hesitating, like he wanted to tell me something.
“Hurry up. Kevin’s going to catch you.”
Van didn’t say anything.
“What?” I finally said, exasperated.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked, annoyed, confused.
“There’s something I think I’ve known for a long time. For a few weeks, at least. It’s part of what I was watching for—why I kept looking out your window. You know what? Go back. I’ll take you,” he said, changing his mind.
“What, Van? Why are you being so weird?”
“Caroline was also using the house,” Van said.
“She was partying with the boys there, right?”
“No, she was doing her own thing. She had an agreement with them to share.”
“Wait, what was she doing there?”
“She was meeting someone.”
Oh. “You mean, ‘meet’ someone, like she was cheating on you? Was it Max? Or Seba?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“I have a feeling, but I need to know for sure.”
“Who do you think?” I pressed.
Van remained inexplicably quiet.
“You think you’ll see them together right now?” I finally asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Ingrid, I don’t know,” he said again. I was about to get even more exasperated by his hedging, when Kevin was making his way down the slope. Then Van said, “Because I don’t know if you should see. But then I kind of think the only way you’ll believe me is if you do.”
Why did he care so much about me?
“I’ll go with you. It’s fine.”
“Okay,” he said after a pause.
I followed Van over the dry creek bed, the smooth gray stones bleached in the moonlight. Without the protection of the woods, the wind whipped straight down the tunnel of the creek, nearly knocking me over. Dry branches crackled with the gust.
My flip-flops weren’t doing me any favors as I navigated sloppily over the rocks. I was almost to the other side, trailing in Van’s footsteps, when the strap of my cheap shoe popped out and broke.
Van didn’t notice so I kept going, testing whether I could stand walking with one bare foot. Just on the other side of the creek, a path led up to the street and the apartment complexes and a convenience store I knew well. It was the Minute Mart, where my dad used to take me and Van. Van started up the trail.
I ran up the hill and passed him, trying to shorten the amount of time I had to walk barefoot on the painful path. I wanted that smooth pavement in the parking lot just above.
When I reached the top, I saw the lit signage for the dry cleaner that glowed all night. My eyes adjusted to the fluorescent streetlamps and I saw a lone car in the parking lot. Then I saw a female figure emerge from the blinding glare. She pushed angrily at the chest of someone who lazily leaned against a familiar car. The man grabbed at her arm and yanked her to him and kissed her, as if to quell the tantrum.
Van was behind me. Then next to me. Then he moved in front of me, blocking my view. I wondered if I was seeing this at all.
“You asshole,” I heard Van yell. Then Van was under the lights of the parking lot.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Caroline’s voice came out, high-pitched.
I stepped closer.
Caroline stayed pressed up against the dark figure, like a deer in the headlights that had forgotten how to choose a direction and move.
I kept walking toward them so I could see better. When the man saw me, there was a pause, then he immediately thrust Caroline away.
Look at them.
I met Mike’s eyes.
He moved for the front of the car, rounding to the driver’s seat like he was going to flee the scene. Caroline lunged after him and grabbed for his arm. Directly under the streetlamp, I saw the naked look on Caroline’s face. I knew that look. I’d seen it years before.
I’d watched it play out on two people’s faces now, first my mom’s and now Caroline’s. It was the realization that the floor had just fallen out from under you. It was a mirror of what was happening inside me.
It reminded me of a different expression I’d seen on Caroline’s face, seconds before my last dive. Mike had ignored her and she’d looked at him like she wanted him to care. She wanted Mike to care that she’d brought around a boy to make him jealous. Annoyed, he’d walked away from her drama. That was why his back was turned on me when it was my turn to dive.
Look at them, Alix had said, in a tone of awe and scandal. She’d meant Mike and Caroline. The signs must have been there—obvious enough that the team was guessing—but I’d blocked it out. Maybe that was why I’d been messing up in the weeks before the accident. The knowledge had been getting under my skin.
When I saw their interaction seconds before the accident, I knew for sure—some secret part of me must have understood. But my mind wouldn’t comprehend it; I hadn’t wanted to believe it.
Now, in the scene in front of me, Van was shouting and Caroline was struggling to get Van’s attention. But I couldn’t hear words. Coach Mike kept trying to get in his car but Van had a vise grip on the front of his shirt. Mike’s eyes were downcast. Suddenly he grabbed the hair on the back of Van’s head, pulling it back hard, trying to hurt him so Van would let him go.
Two strong hands moved me aside. Kevin jogged ahead and inserted himself between Mike and Van, protecting Van and prying this man off his stepson.
Van said something to Kevin who then took a closer look at Mike. Mike took the opportunity to try to duck into his car. It was Kevin’s turn to pull him up by his shirt and not let him go. In the beam of light, I saw spit fly from Kevin’s mouth as he yelled at Mike.
Caroline looked like she was pleading. She kept talking and talking and talking.
That last dive, when I was up on the board on display, I knew before I knew.
Sound popped on again.
“First thing tomorrow, I’m reporting you. Fucking predator,” Kevin shouted in Mike’s
face.
I heard Mike implore Kevin, “I ended it tonight. Please. I’ll never coach again.”
“I’m eighteen!” Over and over again, Caroline kept saying it.
I turned around and began to walk. Away from all of it. Away from all of them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
THURSDAY, APRIL 21
Mike and Caroline. Caroline pushing him. Mike subduing, then kissing her.
I lay on my bed, on my side. When the gentle tapping on the back door began, I ignored it. When the knocking began in earnest, I ignored it. Then there was pounding. I hadn’t expected Van to remember where the key was hidden: under the stone toad at the foot of the back door, covered in algae and moss.
The mattress sagged under his weight.
“We took Caroline home.”
I stayed on my side, facing away from him. I wanted him to stop talking.
“I have to give Kevin credit. He spoke with the family friends Caroline’s living with and then he called her parents. They’re reporting Mike to USA Diving tomorrow.”
Van stood and flipped on the overhead light, a first.
“Holy shit. Your foot is bleeding all over the bed. Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom.”
“I’m fine,” I said calmly.
“Jesus.” Van got up and the overhead light from the bathroom blossomed on my closed eyelids. A second later, “Here.”
I propped myself up on my elbow as Van wrapped my foot in a clean white towel. One of the good ones. Of course he wouldn’t know about not ruining towels. He had a safe life of extras and plenty.
There was silence. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I had to speak or he’d think something was wrong. “It’s fine.”
More silence. “It’s not fine. Ingrid. He wasn’t just your coach. He’s been there since you were small.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. I was the cornerstone of his entire program.
“It matters.”
“I can do it on my own until I find a new coach. Can you turn off the light?” I was pretty sure I was dead inside but I had to get him out in case I cried. I tried to remind myself there was a high that came with not caring about anything. Total fucking freedom.
Van came around the bed and kneeled on the floor at my side, getting right up to my face. I couldn’t turn over or move at all. If I held perfectly still, I could hold back what I’d seen; keep it so I was a distant observer. Every micro-detail was magnified in close-up: Van’s long eyelashes, the chip in the lip of my nearby water glass, the dark window behind him. The one he’d been spying from for weeks. He finally got what he came for.
“Did you know?” he asked.
No. And yes. It made sense why I’d been a little bit off at practice for a month. It hadn’t just been one day. It had been a nag that built. Because when you’re an observer like me, you become attuned to subtleties in people’s behavior. To changes. To body language. To shifts in attention. Especially after being the primary focus for so many years. I’d picked up on it. At least subconsciously.
When I didn’t answer, Van asked the dreaded question: “Did he ever try … with you?” he slowly, awkwardly asked.
“No!”
“What about other divers?”
That hadn’t occurred to me. “Not that I know of.” I paused. “Did you know about them?”
Van sat back on his heels. “I told you about that night, how I saw Caroline in the backyard and she disappeared into the greenbelt. And then she lied about it and made me feel crazy just like Wilson and Max. What I couldn’t get over was the image of her walking into the woods. It was so weird. She knew exactly where she was going.”
Van sat cross-legged below me. “One night when we were dating, she wanted to walk home alone. My family and I drove by minutes later and I saw her getting into a gray car a few blocks from my house. Then that same car parked in front of your house this week when your coach came by.”
Van ran his fingertips over the carpet, back and forth, nervously. “When Max came home from the hospital, he and Wilson confessed to me that they hadn’t told me everything about the night I wandered over to the house. While I was supposedly passed out across the street, they went over to let people in. They surprised Caroline there. She was with some older guy they didn’t recognize. What I saw was the aftermath—Max was freaking out on her, she saw them letting in people from the greenbelt. But my friends got over it apparently because they all made a pact not to say anything. Max and Wilson were doing their thing, she was clearly doing hers—all behind my back. When Caroline couldn’t use the house, she’d use the path to sneak out of the neighborhood.
“Then, of course, when everything blew up, Caroline tried to keep me close so she’d know if they told on her. I’m sorry I was distant. I’ve been freaking out since I started suspecting who it was and how fucked that would be for you. But I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was true.”
“But they wouldn’t use the house next door to me,” I stated. He was wrong. Caroline and Mike wouldn’t do that—not right under my nose.
“I think they did. She knew about it because I took her there. She knew about the path to get there from Seba. Where else did they have to go? Where do any of us have to go besides our parents’ houses or the back of a car? And that guy is arrogant enough to think he’d never get caught. That everyone loves him.”
Everyone did love him. I’d loved him.
The image of Mike’s very pregnant wife came to mind. It was like right when he got everything you’d think he wanted—a family, a facility built for him—he’d decided to blow it up. With a teenager. “So you needed my window. This whole time, you suspected.”
“I wanted to know what was going on. With Max. With Wilson. But I also wanted to watch for her. At first it was because I wanted to catch her cheating on me. She was the first girl I was actually excited about since—”
Van quit talking and stared up at the ceiling as if that’s where he’d find the words he was searching for. Then he continued, changing course. “But Caroline was totally on-again, off-again, like she couldn’t make up her mind if she was interested, and then she’d ghost on me for long periods of time.…” Van trailed off. “Kevin’s going to talk to your mom in the morning,” he said, abruptly changing the subject again.
I had been passively listening, staying uninvolved for the most part but I became alert at that. “No, no, no. She doesn’t need to know.” I had an enormous instinct to protect my mom.
“What are you talking about? Your coach—who has practically raised you—was having an affair with your teammate. She needs to know.”
“I don’t want her to be disappointed again.”
“Again?”
“Never mind.”
“Ingrid, you just lost someone. Everyone is going to be worried about you.”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly. I’ll find another coach. I’ll figure it out.” He was not going to paint me as a victim. Poor Ingrid, who bad things kept happening to. Who couldn’t catch a break with the people she trusted. It was like I was dirtied. At a certain point, this reflected on me.
I crossed my arms. “You could have just told me you were suspicious your girlfriend was cheating on you. You didn’t have to keep me up for weeks to catch them together.”
Van took a deep breath, like he was gearing up for something. “I told myself that was why I kept coming here, but really it was an excuse to be with you.”
That got my attention.
Van was waiting for me to speak. After a long silence, Van said quietly, “I’ve been in love with you since I moved to this street.”
A piece of my heart broke loose in my chest. A larger part of me couldn’t deal with it.
“You were my best friend, my first crush, and you broke my heart when you quit talking to me. In eighth grade, I sat in my room writing you love letters I never sent. I’ve dated girls but no one was you. Then I met Caroline and I finally moved on. But it’s like she br
ought us back together in a fucked-up way.” Van waited for my response, watching me carefully. “Are you going to say something?”
My brain held out a giant stop sign. “It’s too much right now,” I heard myself say.
“Maybe I’m crazy,” he said, “but I think you might feel the same way.” Van gently touched my back.
“I’m a diver. I’m not a regular girl,” I said. Coach Mike’s words. Along with: You are special.
Van’s hand fell away and he immediately jumped to his feet, as if deciding he didn’t need to hear the rejection speech. At the bedroom door, he turned back. “Do you love it that much?”
“If I can’t dive, I have nothing.” I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“Your mom is nothing? I’m nothing?”
“My dad was a diver.” The words just came out.
For a second, Van didn’t speak. Then, “He’s been gone for so long, he’s just a memory. It’s something I know all about.”
I asked Van what I’d wanted to know for seven years. “What did he say to you that day he left? He said something just to you.”
Van held the doorjamb with both hands. He looked back over his shoulder at me. “He told me to take care of you.”
CHAPTER FORTY
THURSDAY, APRIL 21
After Van left, my brain was an electrical storm.
I hadn’t slept at all in twenty-four hours. Maybe forty-eight. Maybe seventy-two.
I knew what my mother was going to think: What an incredible waste of money. To have my diving world implode junior year …
The diving community (and college coaches) would wonder: What else was happening in that corrupt club?
I knew what the other divers would think. I was always apart because I was at a more advanced level, the favorite. Coach Mike spent far more time with me than any other diver. It was like he and I were running a side business during practice and meets—priming me for the regional and then national competitions, talking about college diving programs, discussing an individualized workout. How many nights had I stayed behind by myself because Mike wanted to work with me?
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