by Jessie Rosen
Charlie couldn’t help himself. He touched the screen to play the video. The image of the booth didn’t change, but once again there was a voice—this time his.
“I feel like I should propose a toast. To forgiveness, friendship, and the future.”
Charlie felt his entire body stiffen. He could see himself now—his fake smile, his flask raised lowly so none of the waitresses would see, and his free hand resting on Amanda’s thigh. That was the last thing that was said before heading out that night. This wasn’t some weird re-enactment, and it wasn’t a mistake—Miller’s video hadn’t been, either. Someone had been recording them that night, and now they were trying to terrify Charlie.
“Charlie? Are you okay in there?” Kit said from the other side of the bathroom door. Without thinking, Charlie gave the toilet a fake flush and rushed out the door.
“Hey, sorry,” he said. Kit pulled him aside and leaned in close.
“You were in there for awhile. Are you okay? I can drive you home if you need.”
“No, no. I’m cool. I was talking to Mom, and it was just easier to hear inside there.”
Kit saw right through that lie, but before she could push him on it, both their attention shifted to the exact same thing: Laura Rivers walking from the back patio directly toward the front door.
“Hey! You came!” Charlie blurted out. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“Yeah. Hi. I didn’t see you. I’ve been here for a bit, but I’m actually not feeling so well,” she said. The somber look on Laura’s face made it was clear that was an excuse.
“Was someone rude to you?” Charlie asked.
“These guys can be the worst,” Kit chimed in. “Come with me. We’ll go cozy up by the fire pit and talk about where you get all your amazing outfits.”
“I was actually just out there,” Laura said. “With Amanda. I’m going to head out now, though. Thanks for inviting me, Charlie,” she said, and before he had the chance to say another word, she was gone.
Something clicked in Charlie’s brain after Laura shut the front door. He spun around from where he was standing with Kit until he had a view through the sliding glass doors of the kitchen straight into the back yard. Then he saw exactly what he thought he would see: Amanda staring back at him, smiling. Once again Charlie’s entire body went stiff, but this time it was with anger, not fear. “No…” he suddenly heard himself say out loud.
“No what?” Kit asked.
“Nothing,” Charlie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Within what felt like a second, he was standing directly next to Amanda, shaking.
“Whoa. What is up with you?” she asked.
“I’m done,” Charlie said.
“With what?” Amanda asked.
“With you. You’ve done some sick things in your life, Amanda, but this tops it all. You recorded that night? And now you’re using it to blackmail me because I showed an ounce of interest in Laura?! What is wrong with you?”
“Sshh. Stop, Charlie. People are staring at us.”
“I don’t care. I supported you every single time you needed me, Amanda, even if it meant ruining my own life. I don’t deserve this shit.”
“Charlie. You’re scaring me. What is going on?”
“Oh, I’m scaring you?! Now you know how it feels.”
Charlie didn’t wait for whatever excuses Amanda would come up with next. He turned around and walked away, leaving her with the attention of every single person in the backyard.
Sasha
Sasha stayed up until three thirty in the morning two nights in a row combing through all the communication about Laura Rivers, Englewood’s famous new girl. With her parents watching, she had to limit the waking work hours, meaning more 10:00 p.m. to early morning sessions. It was exhausting, but it was worth it. She now had an incredibly clear picture of all the chatter going on at EHS.
After the first read-through, Sasha decided she would need a system to catalogue all the incoming information. The fastest way to find the source of any incriminating chatter would be to separate out the non-relevant details.
She spent the next few days sorting the content into four categories of communication. The first group was comprised of people who gave only passing mention to the fact that Laura looked like Sarah. Sasha figured out their names, and then ran that list against the Englewood High roster. It turns out they were mostly underclassmen gossiping about all the events of that first school day. The fact that the new girl looked like the dead girl was just one item of conversation among dozens. This group would be labeled green. None of them were even in school with Sarah when she died, so Sasha considered them the lowest priority.
Next was level two: people who lingered on the topic of Sarah Castro-Tanner for much longer. Sasha ran these names against the school’s list and found out that it was equally weighted between juniors and seniors wondering how Laura felt about resembling their infamous former classmate. Mostly, they talked about how miserable it must have been for Laura to spend her very first day at a new school under such a weird black cloud. A few among the people in this group had spoken to Laura, and they revealed details about her that Sasha filed away in a separate document.
Laura Rivers was a former California girl whose parents had just relocated to the East Coast for work. Most people thought she was naturally pretty, a few were jealous of her blond curls, and more than one mentioned her striking blue eyes. Laura smiled a lot, people reported, and she seemed really eager to get to know everyone. People were impressed with her positive spirit, especially considering the strange stares she was getting all day long. They said the new girl seemed tough.
It was this latest mention of sympathy for the new girl that made Sasha realize she hated Laura Rivers. She had no right to remind people of Sarah. Why should this stranger be the reason they finally remembered the tragedy after all this time? And yet, it was because of Laura that Sasha’s investigation had taken its first step forward in almost two years. This was the happening she’d hoped for every morning and every night. She should be thanking her lucky stars for Laura Rivers. Now is not the time to get emotional, Sasha reminded herself. She needed to stay focused.
Sasha decided that the incoming messages of this talkative, empathetic set should be labeled yellow and considered a medium priority. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in their comments, but at this point no one could be considered completely innocent.
The next grouping Sasha uncovered was much more curious than the previous two: there were a number of people who didn’t think Laura looked that much like Sarah Castro-Tanner at all. Sasha tended to agree.
The very first thing she had done after learning the name Laura Rivers was look her up online. Her profile page was filled with pictures taken in the California sunshine, all of which were annoyingly perfect. There were shots of Laura riding a bike along the pristine California boardwalk, a few selfies taken in a brand new convertible—of course the L.A. girl had a convertible—and a series from some bonfire party. These were the images Sasha stared at for longer than she was willing to admit. She couldn’t take her eyes off one picture in particular—an image of Laura wrapped up in a fleece blanket beside the fire. The flames barely lit the right side of her face, so Sasha could see most of her features. In Sasha’s opinion, Laura looked like a distant cousin of Sarah’s, at best. Some features were similar, but it wasn’t enough to fool Sasha—at least not from the angle of the photo.
Sasha placed the messages from this group, which she called “deniers,” into the orange category: high priority. In order to voice the unpopular opinion that the new girl and the girl who’d committed suicide didn’t look alike, these people must have known Sarah Castro-Tanner’s face pretty well. These were people Sasha was interested in watching. They were either so familiar with Sarah that they couldn’t see her face in Laura’s or, even more telling, they were lying about the similarities that they saw.
Sasha thought back to an article about the psy
chology of lying that she’d stumbled upon during one of her marathon sessions online. The best way to detach is often to deny, the article explained. That’s why she considered this group so suspect. If one of these students had information about Sarah, they’d been keeping it a secret. They’d maintained a lie of omission for all the past eighteen months, so they would be inclined to bury the story again by disregarding Laura.
It wasn’t until Sasha discovered the fourth and final group that she wondered if all her earlier theories were wrong.
That final group didn’t surface until Friday afternoon. Most people used Sarah’s name at least a dozen times as they talked about Laura. It was almost impossible to talk about one person in relation to another without ever referencing the first person’s name, but two people among the hundreds she’d hacked did just that. They made an effort to not use the words Sarah Castro-Tanner, dancing around her name like referencing it either wasn’t allowed or wasn’t possible. The move struck Sasha as too curious to ignore. She clicked through the individual lines of text to find the source of this confusing feed.
MandaBear: Please talk to me, Charlie. I seriously do not know what you’re so upset about. What is going on??
CSanders: The VidBits. Don’t play dumb. It’s too late.
MandaBear: I didn’t do whatever you’re talking about, and I didn’t record that night. Why would I want to remember what happened?
CSanders: Who knows.
MandaBear: I want to forget everything just as much as you. I would never torture you about her. That’s why I was weird about Laura, because I just want to forget. Don’t you?
Sasha read the exchange over and over until her eyes went completely blurry. She knew that it was real, but it still seemed unbelievable. One week ago the idea of knowing Sarah’s true story was a distant dream. Now Sasha had uncovered two people who knew something about Sarah that they wanted to forget, and it would only take her seconds to figure out their real names.
Chapter 4
September 6
Laura
Laura settled into her favorite corner of the velvety sectional couch in her living room and wrapped herself in the blue, plaid throw that was big enough to make her feel like she was under bed covers. On the coffee table in front of her was everything a girl needed to get through a rough day: a pint of salted-caramel ice cream, chocolate covered raisins to dump into that pint, and the remote control. It was just the kind of dreary Saturday night that Laura needed to regroup after everything that unfolded on Friday. During moments like these, Laura didn’t mind the constant absence of her parents. Having the house to herself was nice, especially after the discovery that some classic movie channel was running a romance movie marathon. Dad would be bummed to miss this, Laura thought. He was responsible for her love of old black-and-white films, and pints of ice cream, for that matter.
Laura had checked the whole day’s movie lineup when she stumbled upon the marathon that morning. Listed beside the two o’clock slot was the exact title she was hoping to see—Sabrina starring Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. It was as if some movie-loving fairy godmother was giving her a little gift to help her feel better after the Jeff Haskell party drama. Though, in fairness to Jeff Haskell and the rest of the partygoers, Amanda Hunter was the only person responsible for all the drama.
Amanda had proven to be as predictable as every other “it” girl Laura had ever met. For the one hour that she was at the party, Laura felt like she was sitting in on a master class in being two-faced. Though Amanda was way too obvious about it, in Laura’s opinion, to be considered a master.
I need to solve this Charlie-and-Amanda mystery, she thought. And I need to do it without involving Amanda…
Thankfully she didn’t have to deal with any of that until after the weekend. For now Laura would be fixated on the TV screen where her all-time favorite scene from Sabrina was unfolding—the one where Sabrina writes a letter home to her father at the end of her trip to Paris. It was just a static shot of the crazy-charming Audrey Hepburn sitting alone at a café scribbling as her voice read her words, but Laura could have watched the scene a thousand times and never tired.
“I have learned how to live, how to be in the world and of the world, and not just to stand aside and watch. And I will never, never again run away from life. Or from love, either.”
I wonder if I can find a print of those words for my bedroom, Laura thought as she watched Sabrina continue to scribble on the screen. She hopped up from the couch to grab her laptop for a quick search of her favorite handmade-crafts site. When Laura returned to the couch, there was a new text waiting on her cellphone from the absolute last person she expected.
Hey, girlie. FYI someone from Haskell’s party is super into you… Text me back to find out who. Would say we should grab a coffee, but dealing with some Charlie stuff… Typical.
Laura couldn’t for the life of her figure out how Amanda got ahold of her cellphone number. She’d given it to Charlie and no one else. Had Amanda hacked into Charlie’s phone? Or, worse, into her own phone? Laura couldn’t decide which move was creepier, but they both meant the same thing: Amanda wanted to keep her very close. Laura wasn’t naïve enough to think it was in the name of a blossoming new friendship. Amanda had a very tight hold on Charlie, and she obviously wasn’t going to let anyone inch in on her turf. But Laura’s biggest concern right now was…why? In what ways were they “eternally bound,” as Amanda said? Laura could tell by the tone in her voice that Amanda hadn’t just said that to get rid of her—something had happened. How that past was currently affecting Charlie was the mystery Laura was most interested in solving. Unfortunately this was the exact sort of high school drama that Laura wanted to avoid as the new girl. But from what little she’d seen of Amanda’s behavior so far, Laura feared she was no longer in control, and neither was Charlie.
September 8
Charlie
“Charlie. Hi. How are you today?” Laura asked at the start of English class on Monday morning. Charlie thought he heard a tiny amount of concern in her voice, but it wasn’t enough to comment on. He wasn’t expecting such a warm hello after the way Amanda had scared her off from Jeff Haskell’s party.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Good,” Laura said. “I’m so glad to hear that.”
No. Concern was definitely there—as if Charlie had been out of school sick the Friday before and Laura was checking to make sure he was okay. Does she think there’s something wrong with me? Charlie thought. He almost wanted to run to the bathroom to check his face in the mirror, like maybe he’d spontaneously popped a giant black eye.
Laura rushed off at the end-of-class bell before Charlie could gather any clues about her weird sincerity, but he got another chance in the student parking lot after school.
“Hey, Cali. I see you staring at my car,” Charlie said as he walked toward the Grand Am.
“I was just wondering why you bought a convertible if you’re going to have the top up, especially on a day like today,” she said. “It’s so sunny out.”
“It’s fifty degrees! The sun isn’t as strong on this side of the country.”
“That’s what the car heat is for,” Laura said with a coy smile. “I’m not putting my top up until there’s frost on my windshield.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” Charlie said.
“It would be, but you already lost.”
It didn’t take much for Charlie’s competitive streak to kick in. “Fine. We start over today. First person to arrive at school with their top up loses.”
“And what does the winner get?” Laura asked.
“The best thing a winner can ever get,” Charlie replied. “Glory.”
Laura laughed—she didn’t know that Charlie wasn’t kidding—then walked over to where he was standing.
“Think I’m safe to ask you a question over here?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about Amanda,” Charlie said. “She�
�s just territorial.”
“Oh, I know,” Laura said. “It’s nice. She clearly cares so much about you.”
There was that strange sensitivity again—the same tone Charlie heard in Laura’s voice at the start of class. Like she was talking to a cancer patient or something.
“So,” Laura said, “my question: I’m doing a profile for the paper on a student athlete. We want to uncover what it’s like to balance sports and school and friends.”
“That’s cool,” Charlie said. “There’s a lot to it that people don’t realize.”
“Exactly,” Laura said, “So could you suggest one of your teammates for me to ask? Maybe Miller?”
Charlie hoped the look on his face didn’t give away his reaction: why not me? Was she really not going to ask him? If Laura knew anything about the Englewood soccer team, she would know he was the one to watch.
Charlie stopped himself at that thought. That was his crazy ego talking, and when he didn’t keep it in check, there was no telling what it could do…what it had already done.
“Let me talk to the guys about it,” he said, then his mouth betrayed his mind, “or you could interview me.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” Laura said, “I don’t want you to think I’m snubbing you. I just…I just figured now wasn’t a great time for you.”
Once again, Laura had turned on the caring-nurse voice. This time Charlie couldn’t let it go.
“Why wouldn’t it be a great time for me?”
“Oh God, please don’t tell her I told you. I know Amanda was talking to me in total confidence. ”
“About what?” Now Charlie was freaked. What did Amanda tell her, and why?