The Night Olivia Fell

by Christina McDonald

  “Oh. Miss Knight. Hi.” He wiped a hand over his face, then darted a glance back at the school.

  “Do you have a second?”

  “I guess.”

  I fell into step beside him, our shoes crunching on the gravel.

  “You said you didn’t see Olivia after the barbecue,” I said. The words came out sounding like an accusation, and Tyler’s eyes immediately went flat and defensive.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Well, um.” I loosened my scarf. “It’s just, I found Olivia’s phone the other day, and there was a text on it from you. It said you were going to meet later that night. Did you?”

  “No.”

  We’d reached his car, a flashy red Jeep Renegade. Olivia’d gushed about that car when they first started going out together. The alarm chirped twice as Tyler unlocked it and opened the driver’s door.

  My hand shot out to stop him. I grasped his arm, my nails digging into his bicep.

  “Her text said you did.”

  “I didn’t see her, Miss Knight.” Tyler’s voice was sharp as a paper cut. He wrenched his arm away from me, his eyes hot and red. “She texted me about meeting up, all right? She said she was coming back to the barbecue, but she never showed up. I thought she’d fallen asleep or something.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “Like, midnight. That’s what I told the police, too.”

  Tyler wiped a forearm across his eyes. His face was haggard, the freckles spattering the bridge of his nose standing out starkly against the paleness.

  I stepped away from Tyler, and he climbed into his Jeep, slamming the door. He rolled his window down and looked at me for a long moment. I held his gaze, waiting for whatever it was he wanted to say.

  “The police said it was an accident,” he said finally. “That she slipped. That’s what happened, right?”

  “Yes, of course.” My voice sounded anemic, pitiful. “I just, you know, I wanted to see if you knew anything else.”

  “I don’t,” he said. He wiped a hand across his nose. A thin trail of snot still hung off it.

  “Did she really say I was too strict? That she felt like I was writing the script for her life?” I asked.

  He looked away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “Did she say it?”

  “Yeah.”

  I backed away from him, wanting more than anything to be in the comforting solitary confinement of my car. “Bye, Tyler.” I spun around, walked away, my legs leaden.

  “Wait, Miss Knight,” Tyler called after me. “Have you talked to Madison?”

  I turned around.

  “Not yet,” I said slowly. “Why?”

  “Madison and Olivia weren’t talking. They had a big fight, like, a couple months ago. Madison was such a bitch to Olivia. She’s the one you should be talking to.”

  Tyler started up his car and pulled away. I don’t know how long I stood there in that spot, the parking lot as empty as a promise.

  × × ×

  Back in my car, my mind raced, trying to catalogue everything I’d learned: Olivia knew she was pregnant; she knew Gavin was her father; she’d met Gavin’s daughter; she and Madison weren’t speaking.

  I couldn’t find any logical connection between these strands. How did they lead to my daughter’s fall?

  I drove slowly through town, hugging the beach as I wound along the road that led to my house. It was low tide, Puget Sound pulling away into the distance. The water was gunmetal gray, dappled with boulders and chunks of seaweed. Cotton-wool clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to burst at any moment.

  My cell phone rang and I glanced at it: it was Sarah. I pressed End, unable to talk to her just yet. I was still furious with her for keeping the fact that Olivia knew about Gavin from me.

  Instead I called Anthony.

  “I just talked to Tyler,” I said when he answered. “He said Madison and Olivia had fought and weren’t talking.”

  “Interesting. Did he say why?”

  “No.”

  “We need to talk to Madison, see what happened. If the fight was motive enough for her to hurt Olivia.”

  I could easily imagine Madison getting angry and freezing Olivia out for some perceived wrong, but hurting her? I wasn’t so sure, and I said as much to Anthony.

  “You could be right, but we should talk to her anyway,” he replied. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my job, it’s that everybody—no matter how harmless they seem—has the capacity to veer outside the lines. It’s just a matter of how far they go.”

  19

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  june

  Diiiiinnnnnggg!!!

  The end-of-school bell rang shrilly.

  Everybody in history class leapt up and started talking, an excited hum of teenage chatter. Finally! No school for three months. I slammed papers and books into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

  “Hurry up, Liv!” Tyler urged. “Let’s get outta here! I want to go to the beach.”

  “About that . . .” I began but didn’t get a chance to finish.

  Dan appeared in the classroom doorway and pointed at Tyler with both hands. “Duuude!!!” he shouted. “I have a volleyball with your name on it. Let’s get to the beach. We’re gonna kick some ass!”

  Tyler gave him a high five, and they walked down the hall together. Dan didn’t even look at me. I trailed after them in the direction of our lockers feeling inexplicably snubbed. Tyler used to stick next to me like glue. He’d open doors for me and sling my backpack over one shoulder while his was over the other. Dan was such an asshole. I was sure this was his fault somehow.

  All anybody was talking about was the annual after-school beach party. Usually we’d all play volleyball and laze about on the beach, waiting to see who was brave enough to go in the water first. Then someone would spark up the barbecue, and we’d eat ribs and chicken before starting the bonfire and making s’mores. Mom always hated it when I stayed out after dark—like all the bad things in the world only happened after the sun went down—but just so she didn’t worry, Madison and I usually headed to my house around sunset for movies and a sleepover.

  But this year I had a handful of lies ready to get out of the beach party.

  What I was really doing was going to see Kendall. We’d been messaging each other on Facebook lately.

  I opened my locker and shoved loose papers, plastic bags, a few apple cores, a hairbrush, my locker mirror, and a pair of tennis shoes into my backpack. By the time I finished, Dan had disappeared and Tyler was waiting for me at the other end of the hall. When I reached him, he put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. I wanted to shrug him off. It felt like we were about to run a three-legged race or something.

  Outside, the sun was shining brightly, making everything look sparkly and beautiful. June was the best month in the Pacific Northwest. The weather was just warming up, new shoots pressed through the ground, and vibrant green leaves unfurled on the trees. The scent of spring roses mingled with the salty sea air.

  In the next few weeks Portage Point would fill with tourists, the ice cream shops heaving with people, the beach thronged with sun worshippers. Traffic through town would become a nightmare, with horns blaring and sunburned people jostling for space on the sidewalks. But for now, it was still peaceful, the sky scrubbed clean by occasional showers.

  “You all right?” I asked Tyler as we headed toward the front of the school. He’d been really weird lately. Not that I could blame him. Rumors were flying about exactly why his parents broke up and he was totally pissed about it. Madison had told me that Peter told her that Tyler’s dad had walked in on his mom and the mailman having sex in their bed. Eww! I was too scared to ask Tyler if it was true, though. He’d go totally ape-shit.

  “Actually, I, uh . . .” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I wanted to tell you something.”

  Tyler dropped his backpack on the ground, and I sat
on a bench in front of the school. Tyler turned to face me. He had a weird look in his eyes. He reached down to pick a long piece of grass, which he started tying in knots that kept breaking.

  “I’m not going to be around for the summer,” he said finally.

  “What?” I blinked. “Why not?”

  “My stupid parents.” The amber flecks in Tyler’s eyes sparked with anger. His hands curled into fists. “My dad’s moving to Seattle, and apparently I have to go with him.”

  “But . . .” I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Why?”

  “Dad said he mostly works there, so he might as well move there. And apparently he got summers with me in the custody agreement. I’m not sure who’s more pissed off about it, me or him.” Tyler’s nostrils flared.

  “Are you coming back?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be back at the end of August for football. Mom gets me during the school year. Dad gets me one weekend a month and summers.”

  Tyler’s dad was some senior, high-up manager at an IT firm in Seattle, but he’d worked from Portage Point as long as I could remember. I didn’t know him very well. He seemed nice enough: a quiet, bookish type, shaped like a turnip, with a shy, lopsided smile.

  “When do you go?”

  “Monday.” His jaw worked furiously, but he shrugged. “Whatever. At least I don’t have to be with her all summer. This is all her fault for cheating.”

  “Hey!” Madison appeared suddenly from behind me.

  She flopped onto the bench with a loud huff, throwing her bag on the ground dramatically.

  “Hey,” I replied. I turned back to Tyler, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he quickly changed the subject.

  “Do you want to get something to eat at Bagel Barn before we head to the beach?” he asked.

  “Oh, shoot, I forgot to tell you,” I said, smacking my forehead. “I have a dentist appointment in just a bit, so I’m gonna miss the beach party. I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Madison exclaimed, her eyes wide and horrified. “Since when?”

  “Um, like, yesterday? My tooth has been bothering me.” I poked at a molar and made a face. “I have to get a filling, I think. Today was the only time they could fit me in.”

  It amazed me how easily the lies flowed off my tongue. The easiest way to tell a lie, I was learning, was to add in a drop of truth. My tooth did hurt, and I would make a dentist appointment. Adding that to the lie made it even more believable.

  “Well, that’s shit,” she huffed. “The barbecue’s gonna be lit!”

  Peter arrived then, and she was instantly distracted. She gazed up at him adoringly, then stretched a foot out to touch his. He smiled and sat next to her, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She leaned in to kiss him and murmured something in his ear with a girlish giggle.

  I watched them for a moment, realizing that I’d never seen Madison like a guy for this long before. Maybe she was actually serious about Peter.

  “When am I going to see you, then?” Tyler asked, throwing down the frayed and tattered piece of grass. For just a moment he looked vulnerable and needy. But then he shifted his body and the sun slid away, turning his eyes dark and shadowy.

  “How about Sunday? My mom will be home, but we could go somewhere if you want?”

  “What, you think she’ll let you?” he asked sarcastically. He reached down and picked up another piece of grass and blew into it, making a high, sharp sound.

  I ground my teeth. “She just worries,” I said stiffly.

  “Whatever,” he muttered. He ripped the grass in half and tossed it on the ground at my feet before turning and storming toward his car.

  I said good-bye to Madison and Peter and sneaked around the back of the school to a neighborhood side street. Derek was waiting in his Mustang and I slipped in, throwing one last look behind me. Madison and Tyler would kill me if they saw me now, after all my lies. Derek gunned the engine, and we headed toward Seattle.

  I slouched low in the car so nobody could see me and didn’t say anything until we reached the freeway.

  “How come you don’t go to U-Dub?” I asked Derek. I’d been wondering it for weeks now.

  He blew a lock of hair off his forehead and looked like he was debating saying something. “It’s complicated,” he finally said.

  “Try me.”

  “Well . . . I want to go to art school.” He glanced at me.

  “Why don’t you, then?”

  “Mom and Dad won’t pay for it.”

  “But why not?” I asked, baffled. “Don’t they want you to be happy?”

  “I guess. It’s just they want me to do something that I’m guaranteed to get a job in, like finance. Dad says art is a waste of money. Mom, I mean . . .” He downshifted the Mustang to exit the highway. “You know her. She’s in her own world. But I’d rather die than waste away in some office and become a middle-class dillhole like my parents.”

  “What kind of art would you study?”

  “I like drawing.”

  I pondered that. I hadn’t pegged Derek as the creative type. But now that he mentioned it, I remembered loads of times when he’d sat around doodling while Madison and I played. “Would you draw me?”

  He glanced sideways at me, his eyebrows high.

  “Sure.” He grinned. “One day I’ll draw you.”

  We pulled into Kendall’s Mercer Island neighborhood and parked in a slot across the street from Starbucks, where I’d organized to meet Kendall. This little alcove of Seattle was home to the wealthy and affluent. Behind the ironwork fences and guarded gates, another world existed that even Derek hadn’t been exposed to. Here in Kendall’s world, Mercedes Benzes and Lexuses parked in cavernous garages; paid staff maintained swimming pools and hot tubs. It was a world I knew nothing about, and it made me extremely uncomfortable.

  “Nice.” Derek whistled softly as a Ferrari rolled by.

  “Look, there she is!” I pointed across the street to where Kendall was chatting to a teenage girl who looked vaguely familiar. They were with a man and woman I’d never seen before, all of them holding venti iced coffees. Derek and I got out of the car and jogged across the street.

  “Hi.” I smiled at Kendall as we approached.

  Kendall jumped and whirled to face us. “Oh, uh . . .” she stammered.

  “Oh my God!” the girl next to her shrieked, grabbing Kendall’s arm. She gaped at me. I couldn’t tell if she was grinning or leering. “It’s your twin!”

  I suddenly knew where I recognized her from. She’d been with Kendall the day we met at the University of Washington. She was one of those spoiled-looking rich girls, long bottle-blond hair, a boob-clinging top, thick layers of mascara, skinny jeans, and too-high heels.

  The girl noticed Kendall’s shocked gaze. “Wait.” She turned to me. “Are you stalking Kendall?” She turned to the older couple next to her. “We saw this girl, like, months ago at U-Dub. Do you know each other?”

  Kendall’s face froze. “No. Of course not.”

  She offered me her hand. I shook it dumbly.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” she said primly. A politician, just like her dad. “I hope you enjoyed U-Dub.”

  And before I knew what was happening, she was gone, whisked away by the rich girl and her parents.

  × × ×

  I cried the whole way home, sniffling as I stared out the window. The rejection was like acid in my stomach. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.

  Derek obviously didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He handed me a napkin from the glove compartment to wipe my nose. Every once in a while he patted my arm.

  “I don’t want to go home,” I said just before we reached our exit. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Sure. Of course.” He veered across traffic and took the exit for Laurelwood.

  He parked near the arcade, and we got out of the car. Derek shed his black leather jacket and threw it in the backseat. Undernea
th, he was wearing his usual black T-shirt and black jeans. We crossed the street to the boardwalk, walking the length of it until it stopped. Then we kept going, shuffling along the sandy shore to the jetty, where it pointed into Puget Sound.

  The water whispered as it glided across the sand under our feet, sloshing as it slid between the jagged rocks that framed the edges of the beach. The sharp scent of salt and something softer, like honeysuckle, painted the air. A chorus of birds chirped, their song rising with the roll of the surf.

  “I’m sorry about Kendall,” Derek said. His eyes were a deep shade of blue, like a midnight sky. The wind tousled his chocolate curls. “Is there anything I can do?”

  He looked so worried that I forced a small smile and touched his cheek. He was the steadiest person in my life. He’d promised never to lie to me, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he never would. And now here he was, offering me comfort when I needed it most.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For . . . everything.”

  When I was with him, I wasn’t scared of the truth. I wasn’t scared of the future. I wasn’t angry at my mom’s lies or how neurotic she could be. Everything seemed as pure and shiny as a diamond. Even Kendall’s rejection hadn’t tainted that.

  Derek held my eyes for a long time, and that spark between us flared, the heat that drew us together like magnets. Inevitably, we fell into each other, my mouth moving eagerly on his. He brushed my hair away from my face; his breath fanned my lips.

  His mouth parted and the kiss deepened. I willed my heart to stop beating so fast. It knocked hard against my chest. This was nothing like with Tyler.

  I’d loved him since we were kids, I realized. Madison’s lies, his absence, the fact that I had a boyfriend—none of it mattered. I’d loved him from the first time I sat across the dinner table from him when I was five to the time he’d carried me home after I sprained my ankle rollerblading when I was eleven, to now, this very moment.

  It amazed me that the words didn’t come tumbling out of me. I could feel them like three small pearls in my mouth: I love you.

  I slid my fingers into his hair as we gasped for air, consumed by each other.