Projection

by Risa Green

“No,” Ariel admitted. She hadn’t heard that. “Why? Do they have a new lead?”

  Rob shrugged. “No idea. But I’m wondering if your new BFF has anything to do with it.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ariel answered, maybe a little too forcefully. She tempered her tone. “I think you’re just hearing rumors.”

  “Maybe. But rumors or not, Nick deserves to know that he’s dating a potential murder suspect.”

  Ariel tried not to let her annoyance show.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You know, most guys would kill to be like Nick.” Rob paused, and his voice became serious. “I used to be like Nick. But I got tied down when I was too young. And I can guarantee you that Nick doesn’t want to end up like me.”

  “Why? What’s so bad about you?” Ariel asked. Aliens were coming at them now in droves, and Ariel’s thumbs were moving like hummingbirds, wildly shooting at everything in her path.

  Rob sighed. “Come on, Jess. Don’t be a faker with me. I’m thirty-six years old, and I have nothing to show for it. My life sucks.”

  Ariel looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Tread carefully, she reminded herself. “Well, have you ever considered leaving Michelle if you’re that unhappy?”

  Rob turned his head away from the screen to look at her. “I’m sorry, were you not actually on the phone all of those times that I called you at boarding school to tell you that I wanted to leave her? Was I talking to someone else all those times when I told you that I was trying to save up enough money to live on my own?”

  Ariel’s pulse quickened. She was quickly losing her hold on Rule Number Four. Better just to stay quiet.

  On the screen, their characters got caught in an explosion and died simultaneously.

  “Shit!” Rob shouted. He tossed the remote angrily onto the couch next to him. He turned to look at her. “Look, I’m not leaving her. I’ll never have enough money to live on my own, and I’m not willing to get a lawyer and call her bluff. She’s crazy, and she’s got me trapped. End of story.”

  Call her bluff? Crazy? Trapped? Ariel found herself enraged at Jessica. She tells me that he hates chocolate and that he wears bronzer, but she couldn’t have mentioned this? But she knew she couldn’t risk asking what he meant by these things; if he and Jessica had already had this discussion, then he’d become suspicious. Besides, she knew above all that she had to trust Jessica and Gretchen above anyone. Even if they were still manipulating her, they shared this secret, this power. And it was real. It was more real than anything Rob could offer in the way of excuses for getting out of his relationship with Michelle. An awkward silence fell over the room.

  Rob chuckled. “Hey, don’t get all depressed, kiddo. I’ve still got a plan.”

  Ariel raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m taking steps to improve the quality of my life from within.”

  “What are you, like, reading self-help books now?” she asked, hoping that it sounded like something Jessica would say.

  “Something like that.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “I’ve just realized that I can physically be with Michelle, but still have a life away from her.”

  “I guess that’s a positive way of looking at it,” Ariel offered. She wondered if this was his way of saying that he was having an affair.

  Rob nodded. “Hey, if you see Nick tomorrow, tell him I’ll hook him up for Saturday.”

  “Hook him up with what?” Ariel asked, surprised by how quickly he’d changed the subject.

  “Whatever he needs. Some dude on the lacrosse team’s having a party.”

  “So why can’t you just give it to him? What do you need Nick for?”

  “You were gone a long time, Jess. Maybe if you had come home sometimes you would get how things work around here now.”

  He sighed, and Ariel detected just the slightest bit of hurt in his voice. He missed her, Ariel thought. It was kind of sweet, even if he was a weirdo.

  “Let’s just say that Nick and I have a mutually beneficial arrangement,” Rob continued cryptically. “I scratch his back, he scratches mine.”

  “What do you mean?” Ariel asked.

  But Rob just laughed and shook his head. “It’s just an expression.” He stood up, ending the conversation, and gave her a light peck on the top of her head. “I’m going to bed, Jess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The text from Jessica came almost an hour later.

  There in 5. Let us in thru the back door.

  Finally, Ariel thought. She’d spent the last hour snooping around in Jessica’s room, but she hadn’t found anything having to do with projection or with Gretchen’s mom’s murder, or with what their intentions toward her really were. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find, though. Jessica knew she’d be in here. It wasn’t like she was going to leave her diary open on the desk for Ariel to read at her leisure. She realized that whatever information she was going to get would have to come from other people. People who didn’t know they were really talking to her. Like Rob, for example.

  Exhaustion swept over her. It was as if she were in some sick and twisted horror movie: trapped inside another girl’s body, accused of committing murder, with her accuser walking around as herself, doing and saying God knows what. She sat down on the bed and put her head between her legs, taking deep breaths in through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She just wanted to get back to herself. If Gretchen and Jessica really were trying to pin a murder on her, they’d come up with a flawless plan. How better to get revenge than to be her—rifling through her things, getting to know everyone who mattered to her. If she hadn’t been their target, she would admire the fact that they’d spent two whole years plotting and planning this.

  Then again, she’d agreed. She’d gone along with them. What did she have to hide? If they suspected her, they would find out she was innocent. The truth mattered more than anything else. She knew that now.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sunday morning breakfast had only recently become something of a new ritual for Ariel and her mom. It was practically the only time they were able to spend together anymore. Her mom made a big deal of making her favorite things from when she was little: scrambled eggs, bacon, banana pancakes, chocolate chip waffles drowning in syrup. Ariel knew how much her mom loved cooking for her, so she didn’t have the heart to tell her that all she really wanted for breakfast anymore was black coffee and dry wheat toast.

  “So,” her mom began, facing her across the table. “Tell me what happened in your life this week.”

  That was always what her mom said on Sunday mornings. Usually Ariel would tell her about tests she’d taken at school; she’d give her the dirt on teachers she liked or couldn’t stand; she’d tell her a few, well-edited stories about parties she’d been to or guys she’d been hanging out with. But today, Ariel was finding it hard to talk to her mom at all. After all, what was she going to say? I learned how to trade souls with a girl who I think really hates me and is trying to frame me for murder? Or, I watched a movie last night with Nick and Jessica and Connor at Jessica’s house, only I was Jessica and Jessica was me, and I had to pretend that I like Connor?

  “Nothing much,” Ariel answered as she pushed some eggs around on her plate.

  Her mom frowned. “Seven whole days and nothing happened to you? Is something going on with Nick? Are you two having problems?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Nick’s great. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “They say junior year is the hardest,” her mom offered sympathetically. “All that homework while you’re also trying to manage your social life and worry about college.” She put her hand on top of Ariel’s. “Have you thought about college at all?”

  Ariel shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I have to take the SATs this year, but I don’t know where I want to go or anything yet. It’s only October, mom.”

  “I know.” She smiled and removed her hand. “I loved college
,” she said, getting a faraway look in her eyes. “All of that newness and possibility in front of you. You can totally reinvent yourself. You can become whoever you want to be.”

  Ariel looked up at her. Interesting that her mom would pick now to make a comment like that. “I think I just want to be myself,” she replied.

  “Of course you do! I wasn’t suggesting that you pretend to be someone you’re not. I just meant that in college, you can put your past behind you, and nobody has to know anything about what you were like before. It’s not coming out right, but you’ll see what I mean.” She paused. “I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with Jessica Shaw lately.”

  “What is it with adults hearing things about people at my school?” Ariel mumbled, suddenly annoyed.

  Her mother smirked. “I used to work at Delphi, honey, and I have friends who still do. I can’t help it if they tell me things. Anyway, that girl’s had a lot of trouble in her life, hasn’t she? Her parents died, and she was part of that video scandal a few years ago, right?”

  Ariel didn’t even know that her mother knew about the video scandal, let alone who was involved in it. It bothered her that her mom had spies at Delphi who kept her apprised of the gossip there. Ariel had always thought that she alone controlled the flow of information. “Yeah, so what?”

  “So, nothing. I just hope she’s a nice girl, that’s all. I wouldn’t want to see you getting in any trouble because of her.”

  “I’m not going to get in trouble, Mom,” Ariel groaned.

  “It’s just interesting to me that you two connected so fast, that’s all. You know, you actually have a lot in common, when you think about it. She’s an orphan, and you don’t have a father.” Her mom’s tone soured as it always did. “Well, of course, you have one, we just haven’t heard from him in almost seventeen years.”

  Ariel didn’t respond. Her dad had taken off before she was born; she didn’t know him, didn’t know what life was like any other way. The fact that he never contacted them bothered her mom way more than it ever bothered Ariel.

  “Anyway,” her mom continued, “it’s just interesting. And wasn’t she friends with that poor Gretchen Harris? She’s another one who lost a parent. The three of you could start your own support group.”

  As much as she wanted to strangle her mother right now, Ariel had to admit that she’d never thought about this before. They did all have that in common. Plenty of kids at school had parents who were divorced, but she couldn’t think of anyone else who had lost a parent—literally, like Gretchen and Jessica, or figuratively, like herself. She didn’t know why this suddenly mattered so much to her, but it did.

  Ariel was in her bedroom studying for a chemistry test when her phone buzzed. It was Nick. Can I come by?

  She texted him back right away. Yeah. Meet u out front?

  She was waiting outside for him when he pulled up in his black Ford truck.

  “Hi,” she said. She jumped over to him and gave him a happy hug, but he pulled away uncomfortably. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I thought we were in a fight,” he answered, sullenly. “I didn’t sleep last night at all. It obviously didn’t mean that much to you, though.”

  A fight? Jessica didn’t mention anything about a fight when they projected back last night. Ariel’s insides began to boil over as she realized what had happened. Jessica picked a fight with Nick and didn’t tell her on purpose—deliberately breaking Rule Number Five. Jessica was either trying to break them up or trying to test her. Well, two could play that game. Ariel reached out and pulled him to her. “I’m so sorry, babe. I don’t … I wasn’t myself last night. Jessica gave me something when we went into the bathroom together. She said it would make me feel sexy, but I think it had the opposite effect on me. It made me hostile. I swear I don’t even remember fighting with you.”

  Ariel was pleased with how quickly she’d been able to think on her feet—and implicate Jessica, to boot. But Nick gave her a disapproving look and pulled away again. “You’re taking drugs now? Ariel, I’m all for partying, but it’s not cool for you to take something and not tell me.”

  Ariel scoffed. “Oh, so you don’t think that’s cool, but it’s okay for you not to tell me that you and Rob are dealing? Don’t you think that’s a little hypocritical?”

  “Is that what Jessica told you? That I’m dealing?” He shook his head angrily. “I’m not a drug dealer, Ariel. Look, people know I’m friends with Rob, so they ask me to ask him to hook them up. That’s it. Neither one of us makes money from it.”

  So then what’s the mutually beneficial relationship you have with him? She was dying to ask him, but she could never explain how, when, or where she and Rob might have come to have that conversation.

  “Then why does he do it?” she asked instead.

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I think the dude just likes for high school kids to think he’s cool. I don’t get the sense that a lot of adults feel that way about him.”

  “No, I think you’re right about that.”

  Nick moved close to her again, put his arms around her waist. “You really don’t remember fighting with me last night?” he asked.

  “I swear I don’t. But if I said anything mean, I’m really sorry.”

  Nick sighed. “Okay. But listen, the next time you take something, just tell me, and we can do it together.” He shook his head. “Jessica’s cool and all, but that girl is trouble. She’s perfect for Connor.”

  Ariel smiled to herself. If Jessica and Gretchen wanted to keep things from her, then they were going to have to re-strategize. The three of them were a team now, for better or worse. But the smile quickly faded. She couldn’t ignore the gnawing realization: the only reason they’d break a rule and still keep something from her or trick her after they’d projected was because they still must have believed, deep down, that she’d murdered Gretchen’s mother.

  In English class on Monday, Ariel stared out the window, trying to block out Mrs. Porter’s screechy, high pitched voice. She’d known that Mrs. Porter was originally from Chicago, but she’d never noticed before how annoying her accent was, particularly the way she said her Os. It’s Ah-thello! Ariel wanted to scream at her. Not Aw-thello!

  The knot that had formed in Ariel’s stomach since Nick’s visit yesterday was still there. And it was showing no signs of subsiding. She’d barely slept.

  “What do we think about Desdemawna?” Mrs. Porter asked the class. “Is she just a passive victim of Aw-thello?”

  Ariel closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her palm. She’d read the play just last week, but last week felt like so long ago.

  “He murdered her,” someone answered. “I’d say that makes her a victim.”

  Ariel flinched at the word murder. She just couldn’t understand why Gretchen still thought she had anything to do with her mother’s murder. Sure, they didn’t get along in the eighth grade, but murder? It occurred to her that maybe Gretchen really was crazy. Maybe she and Jessica were lying to her about boarding school. Maybe Gretchen was in an institution, after all. And if that’s the case, what is she planning on doing to me?

  “Yes,” Mrs. Porter answered. “There’s no question that she’s a victim. But is she a passive victim? When Awthello verbally abuses her, does she keep her head down and take it, or does she stand up to him and assert her own beliefs?”

  That’s it, Ariel thought. She bolted upright, causing her chair to loudly scratch against the linoleum floor. Everyone turned to stare at her.

  “Sorry,” she said to no one in particular and slumped back down. The class lost interest and went back to discussing Desdemona, but Ariel was energized. I can’t just sit by and let them frame me for this. I’ve got to do something. In a moment of terrified clarity, she suddenly saw what she had to do: the only way she could prove to Gretchen that she didn’t kill her mother was to prove that someone else did. And once she did that, Gretchen would have no choice but to drop this crazy plot of hers to tak
e Ariel down.

  But who, she wondered. Who would have wanted Mrs. Harris dead?

  When class was over, Mrs. Porter tapped Ariel on the shoulder as she was packing up her things.

  “Is everything okay, Miss Miller? I’ve noticed there’s been a lot of staring out the window lately.”

  Mrs. Porter was the second teacher today to ask her if everything was all right. If she didn’t watch it, someone was going to call her mom. “Everything’s fine.”

  Mrs. Porter looked at her skeptically. “Nothing’s going on at home? No problems with the boyfriend?”

  “No, no. Nothing’s going on. I’m just … feeling a little overwhelmed. Junior year is really hard. You know, college pressure and all.”

  “We do have a school psychologist, you know.” Mrs. Porter’s tone had changed from unconvinced to wearily sympathetic, as if she’d heard this story a thousand times before. “You could go talk to Mrs. Lackman. It’s all cawnfidential.”

  Ariel nodded earnestly, trying not to cringe at the accent. She hadn’t gone to see Mrs. Lackman once this year. But she’d learned that with adults, it was easier to say yes and then ignore them than it was to argue.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” she lied. “Maybe I will.”

  The days were getting shorter now that it was fall, so they were able to meet at the teepee in the park earlier than they had even just a week ago. Dead leaves loudly crunched beneath Ariel’s feet as she approached, and when she ducked her head into the teepee, she found Gretchen and Jessica sitting on the ground, their backs leaning against the curved, molded plastic.

  “Hey,” Ariel said, pretending not to notice the way the air hung with the uneasy silence of people who’d quickly stopped talking.

  “Hey,” Jessica said hastily. “Listen, I’m sorry about Nick, okay?”

  Ariel cocked her head. She didn’t believe a word that came out of Jessica’s mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me you got in a fight with him?”

  Jessica sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I knew you already thought I was trying to break the two of you up, so I didn’t want to tell you that I’d started some big fight. I figured it would just blow over. It wasn’t important. I broke the rule for your sake.”