What If

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  “Please, Pete, help me. I need you now more than ever.” I spoke to the ceiling.

  I opened the first page and started reading.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The morning sunlight shone through my window and hit me straight in the eyes where I saw black spots. I sat on my bed with my back pressed against the headboard as I’d done so many times before. Pete’s journal lay on my lap, turned to the last page. I’d finished reading about an hour ago and rocked, crying, holding the picture that had led me to find the journal.

  Oh, Pete….

  I turned to stare outside the window and blinked. The storm had passed, and it felt like a bright new day of promise and hope. It sounded cheesy, but it was the only thing I could think of.

  I patted the page, my vision growing blurry once again. The last year of his life had been written down in this book. I’d learned so much about the boy I adored and loved. I had discovered what he saw through his eyes when he mentioned me.

  The beauty was in his words.

  From these written words, I now knew who killed Pete.

  ***

  “Wendy, where are you? We need to go to the police station. Please, please call me.” I hung up my cell after hearing the message Mom had left. A little less than ten minutes remained until school ended, and I stood under a huge elm tree across the street.

  My bike lay on the ground next to me. I hid behind the tree and waited, wearing my black hoodie, red scarf, white T-shirt, and black jeans. A bird chirped over my head, and the sun broke through the branches.

  I imagined Pete standing next to me, warning me to be careful.

  The bell rang, dismissing school. I kept watch.

  Familiar faces left, laughing and talking, going to their cars, others in groups, heading home or to someone else’s house where they would hang out until it became too dark and they needed to go home.

  Then I saw him, Pete’s killer.

  Even from this distance, I could see how guilty he was acting. I pressed my face against the harsh bark to stop from running across the street and attacking him. He hunched over, wearing a lumpy, gray sweatshirt, and kept peering over his shoulder. When another very familiar face joined him and turned the corner, I grabbed my bike and pedaled, following from a distance.

  Both were oblivious. When they reached another corner and waited for the red light to change color, the one pulled the killer into a hug. They stood there embraced and didn’t move, even as a car drove by and honked a horn. Two teen boys hugging each other was a very strange occurrence in a town like Brookeside—no matter how liberal some made it out to be.

  The killer broke out of his friend’s embrace and strode away. Anthony pushed back his hair and sat on the curb, staring out at the street. I rode by on my bike, and we stared each other down. I didn’t stop. He didn’t stand or call out to me. He just watched me ride away while I followed his friend into the park, the playground I knew so well.

  I chained my bike when I reached the parking lot. People jogged, walked their dogs, and some played soccer in groups on the large green. One couple even flew a kite.

  With his hands in his pockets, the killer hiked up the big hill where Pete had flown down so many times on his bike—where I’d once believed he would end up dead with a broken neck due to his recklessness. Pete’s killer stopped and sat under a large tree.

  I then made an important phone call. When I’d finished, I approached him.

  “Can I join you?” I tucked my hands in my pockets.

  “It’s, may I join you. I don’t know. Can you join me?” he said in a blunt, but not meant in a mean or rude voice. He sounded more fragile and weak than anything.

  “Thanks for the grammar lesson.” I moved in front of him, sat down cross-legged, and picked up a dead leaf to play with.

  Conner pressed his head against the tree and sighed.

  I pushed a piece of hair behind my ear and rested my elbows on my knees.

  “Pete and I would come here to ride our bikes all the time. We rode for hours and finished by biking down this hill. Actually, he would ride down with his arms hanging out while I watched. I thought he was such an idiot because I was so afraid he would fall head first over his bike and break his neck. I thought he never knew I hated biking…but he did. He had a journal. I read it last night and learned some pretty interesting things about him and what he thought about the people in his life.”

  “Oh, really?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Yeah. There was one section that really caught my eye about you. I didn’t know you and Pete went fishing together at Brookeside Lake.”

  He let out a heavy breath. “We would get together once or twice a month, usually before he went to work on Saturday.”

  “You would take the canoe out together on the lake?”

  He nodded.

  “I had no idea you two were such good friends. He never told me. It seems like everyone I know is keeping secrets.”

  Conner hugged his legs against his chest. “We are…were,” he said, so softly I almost didn’t catch it.

  “But you kept it a secret because of Anthony.”

  “Wendy, you don’t underst—”

  “Tell me what really happened at the treehouse.”

  He looked confused by the sudden change in the conversation. “Treehouse? You mean Pete’s old one?”

  “Yes.” Something behind Conner caught my eye. I quickly shifted my gaze to him again. “Eight years ago, Pete broke his nose and sprained his wrist because of something that happened while he and Anthony played up in the tree in his backyard. He told me they stopped being friends shortly after that. He never mentioned about you being there. After all these years, that day still affects you all, or it did up until he was murdered.”

  He flinched and pulled up some grass near his leg. “You want me to come out and say it?”

  I leaned back on my hands and wiggled my feet—they’d fallen asleep. “First tell me about that summer day when three little boys played together and a few friendships were destroyed. I can always recite from memory what I read if you want?”

  Sweat glistened off his brown-colored skin. Not one blemish marred his face, unlike mine that had become a minefield of bumps from all the stress over the past few days.

  “Pete, Anthony, and I always hung out together, had play dates, went over to each other’s houses to play video games, have sleepovers, some really girly shit. But I guess when you’re eight, you don’t think it’s weird. I loved going to Pete’s because of his treehouse. Anthony liked playing inside more, but Pete and I always like to play outside. We usually ended up at his treehouse and pretended to be soldiers or our favorite game of pirates. That day I was the pirate captain, and Anthony my second in command. Pete was our captive. I pretended to tie him up, and if he didn’t tell me where the secret map to the treasure was, I would make him walk the plank. Pete got free and tackled me. We started wrestling. I was so stupid at the time, but how was I to know that kissing boys was a bad thing? I had Pete under me, and the next thing I knew…I kissed him. He pushed me away. Anthony punched him. Pete almost fell to the ground, but caught the side of the house just in time. I pulled him up, and he sat in the corner, looking at me like I was a freak. Anthony started crying and tried to help Pete, but Pete wouldn’t let him touch him. I…got scared and climbed down as fast as I could so I wouldn’t get caught.”

  “You left because you were afraid your parents would find out about—”

  “It’s hard enough being the only token black guy in this town. Can you imagine if it got out I’m a fag?”

  I peered over Conner’s shoulder again and shook my head. “Pete forgave you.”

  “Yeah I know. He lied and said he and Anthony fought. And you know how oblivious his parents can be sometimes. I ran home, and my parents never knew. They worked long hours, and only my older brother would watch me.”

  I could understand that. There were so many times Pete and I’d gone of
f by ourselves when we shouldn’t. It was a rite of passage to play on the streets or in the park for hours without adult supervision.

  “Anthony got angry because Pete blamed him.”

  He nodded, staring straight ahead. “That’s part of it. Anthony was jealous. He didn’t like that I’d kissed Pete. He wanted to be the first.”

  I covered my mouth. Conner quirked his lips. “Comes as a shock? Anthony’s an equal opportunity lover.”

  The question about Conner and Anthony’s true friendship burned on my tongue, but I kept quiet. I didn’t have much time left.

  “How did Anthony and Pam get together?”

  “He did it as a joke, wanting to see if he could get under the cheerleader’s skirt.”

  “That must have made you angry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a passing thing. He always came back to me.”

  “You weren’t at the parking lot the night Toby found out she cheated on him.”

  “Valentine’s Day depresses me. I went to a movie. When it ended, I checked my cell. Anthony had left a ton of messages on my phone. He said everything had been blown. He wanted to see me but needed to be with Pam because she was a mess, and he didn’t want Toby to kill him. He wanted me to go talk to Pete, to make him keep quiet. Pete was the only one who knew about him and Pam, besides me.”

  “Conner, Pete wasn’t the only one. Dylan knew.”

  “I didn’t think about that at the time. I sat in my car at the corner on your street, waiting for you two to get home. I waited for two hours and drifted off. I missed Pete dropping you off. But, when I woke up, I saw him cross your front lawn and get into his car. I followed him. He parked near his boathouse and went inside. I almost didn’t go in. I was going to wait until tomorrow to talk to him, but Anthony kept texting me, asking if I’d taken care of Pete. So, I went inside. Pete stood near one of the shelves, leaning or writing on something. I swear to God, I only wanted to talk to him, to make sure he kept quiet. He was so good at keeping secrets. But he said he couldn’t this time. Too much was at stake because of you.”

  “You got angry?” I struggled not to shake him. My heart raced, and the cold winter air chilled me to the bone—unlike Conner, who was sweating in excess.

  “It happened so fast. Pete told me to leave him alone. I grabbed him, and he pushed me. I fell over some boat paddles and got really angry. He didn’t even ask if I was okay. He started to run outside, but I grabbed one of the paddles and hit him over the head with it. I didn’t mean to! But he wouldn’t listen. The side of his head bled, and he stumbled near the canoe. He fell over the side, landing on his back. I-I heard something crack. He was lying there with his eyes open, and he wasn’t moving.”

  He started to cry and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked.”

  “You wrapped Pete in plastic and put him in the canoe. You got some rocks and rowed out to the middle of the lake….” I pushed him to tell me the rest by placing an arm around his shoulder. He hid his face in my arm.

  Detective Donnelly stood off to the side with two police officers, having arrived a few minutes ago. They came closer. Another police car pulled up at the bottom of the hill.

  “I dumped his body in the lake. I had no choice, Wendy. If he told everyone, Anthony would hate me. Everything would be ruined.” He sobbed hard against my chest, and I wrapped him in an embrace.

  I didn’t whisper any words or tell him it would be all right. It never would be right ever again. We sat there until Donnelly joined us. I then let go of Conner, rising to my feet. Conner continued crying, and pulled his knees against his chest. I stumbled down the side of the hill where my parents waited with one of the officers. Ignoring the forming crowd, I launched myself into my mom’s arms and cried.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A month came and went. Winter disappeared, and spring arrived in full force. Flowers grew, and trees became green again.

  There were a lot of flowers at Pete’s wake and funeral. He had a great turnout. Many students from my class came to gives their regards. Well, most did. Toby came and apologized. We talked for a while at the funeral home with Pete’s body only a few feet away. Toby shared stories of the times he’d come into Williams’ Foods where he’d chat with Pete. He didn’t mention Pam at all.

  Dylan didn’t come, not that I’d expected him to. I ignored him at school. He called my cell a few times. I didn’t return his calls or messages.

  Pam didn’t talk to me. She kept to herself and acted as if we’d never known each other. It would take a long time for me to forgive her for everything.

  Anthony was brought up on charges of accessory to murder because of the way he’d told Conner to handle Pete. I really didn’t think Anthony meant for Conner to get rid of Pete in the way Conner did, but that would be for the courts to decide. And if Anthony was found guilty, I really would be fine with it. I guess it was cruel and mean to think that way, but he took away a piece of my heart all because of manipulating his friend who loved him.

  Conner awaited trial. The bail had been set at one hundred fifty thousand dollars. His parents couldn’t pay it, so he sat in jail. He would be charged for second degree murder and could be put away in prison for twenty-five years. But he was a minor, so he would probably get less. I wanted him to suffer for what he did to Pete, but it felt like a hollow victory. Pete would’ve told me to let bygones be bygones. I wasn’t ready for that just yet. I might never be.

  A month became two, and I stood by the lake, the spot where Pete used to park, where we’d spent the last hours of his life together in the boathouse that had been locked and would remain so for a long time.

  The bright yellow crime tape no longer covered the area, and only a small strip lay on the dirt near the edge of the lake. I picked it up, crinkling it in my hands. The breeze off the lake brushed against my face. I could imagine him touching me with his fingers, those warm hands of his that I loved feeling. His spirit felt so alive here. It didn’t feel as if something horrible had happened.

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes.

  “Wendy?”

  It took me a second to realize someone living had called my name and not Pete. Sometimes I thought I might hear him whisper my name in my ear while I fell asleep, or sat alone in my bedroom reading or flipping through old pictures of us.

  I turned. Dylan stood near his car. I skipped a few rocks along the top of the lake, waiting for him to come to me.

  The sound of footsteps met my ears as he came up beside me.

  “I’ve never skipped rocks before.” He picked up a few stones and threw them.

  “You should get a how-to book because I’m not going to teach you.” I turned away, but he grabbed my arm.

  I stared down at his hand and then up at his face, waiting for him to release me. He didn’t.

  “Dylan, I don’t have time for this.”

  “Wendy, I’m concerned. You never talk to me anymore. I miss you like crazy. I never see you with any of your friends. You’re wasting away because of the amount of weight you lost. I care for you. You have to believe me.”

  “Oh, really?” I pulled my arm free from his hand. “If you care for me as you say you do, then why didn’t you ever tell Toby about Pam and Anthony? You knew. Don’t deny it.”

  “I knew she was cheating but not with Anthony.”

  I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “I don’t believe anything you say. Maybe if you didn’t care about yourself for once, you could’ve stopped things from going too far.”

  He grasped both my arms this time and shook me. “I didn’t kill Pete! Conner did. You keep attacking others because you can’t get over him. He’s dead. It’s time to move on, Wendy. I want to be the one to help you do that.”

  I tried to push him, and when he leaned down to kiss me, I turned my face away. He kissed my cheek while I stood stiff in his arms.

  “I will never forget Pete. He’s the only man I’ll ever love. Maybe I am too young to kno
w what true love is. I know what I had with Pete was real. And you trying to get into my pants with some lame, fake attempt at comforting me will never work. You may have been the first boy I kissed, but he was the one I really loved and let him inside me with his kisses and his body. I will never allow you anywhere near me again or let you touch my body like Pete did. Now, let me go!”

  He released me, and I stumbled. I went to my bike and peered over my shoulder. Dylan stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring out at the lake. His hair ruffled from the breeze. Pushing off, I started pedaling and rode away. He didn’t call my name.

  He was like a bad penny that kept turning up. He would never let me be. I had to remain strong and deny him. There was no place in my heart for him. Peter took up too much of it.

  I belonged to Pete, and that would never change, even in death.

  Epilogue

  Sweat trickled down my face, and my T-shirt was drenched through. I’d just biked around the park for hours, pedaling as fast as I could, waiting for the right moment when I would finally ride down the hill that had always taunted me.

  I still hated to bike, but I would do this for myself and Pete.

  “Do you think I’m ready to do this?”

  “You’ve always been ready. Trust me, you can do it.” Pete sat on his bike next to me, looking adorable in his helmet. He made no move to leave me and ride down like he usually did, where I expected him to fall to the ground and break an arm or a leg.

  “Will you be beside me the whole time and hold my hand?” I tightened my helmet. My stomach cramped in fear, and I tugged on my locket.

  “Yes, I’ll hold your hand. You can even keep your other hand on the handlebar. I won’t judge.”

  “What if I—”

  “Enough with the what ifs and the other excuses you’re using so you can get out of this. Just do it.”