“Technically, yes. But that’s not what he told people. I ignored his phone calls for a day. That’s when he decided to tell half the school he dumped me. Called me all sorts of names. Told stories that weren’t even true.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “I guess he wanted to ruin my reputation before I could ruin his.”
“You should have told people the truth.”
“Six months ago, if I’d told you Brian pulled a knife on me during sex, would you have believed me? Even if you did, would his friends? Our teachers? I just wanted him to leave for SCU so I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.”
“Did you tell your parents?”
She raised her hands and shook her head. “Way too embarrassing. Like everyone else, they assumed he’d moved on to bigger and better. They knew I was hurting, though. They signed me up with a therapist.”
“Did you tell your therapist? You know, about how he was with you?”
“Bits and pieces.” She looked away, and I wasn’t sure I believed her. “My therapist encouraged me to confront the person who hurt me. That’s why I went to your house that day. I wanted him to know even if he fooled everyone else, I knew the truth. He’d hurt me, but he hadn’t destroyed me.”
Amber was trying to come to terms with what Brian had done to her. She wanted closure. I respected that, but he didn’t like being put in his place. “It’s probably best he’d already left.”
She sat up straighter. “I’m just trying to get through high school. I’ve already picked out some colleges up north. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
I didn’t know if I’d ever seen anyone transform as much as Amber. The giddy, preppy girl who’d entered high school was nothing like the despondent one leaving.
“I’m sorry Brian hurt you,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “But I can’t be around you without thinking of him. And I don’t want to think about him anymore.”
“I understand.”
“So, why now? It’s been almost a year since we broke up.”
“I can’t say.”
“I tell you all that, and you just leave me hanging?”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just—I need to know if I’m right first.” I didn’t want to tell Amber my suspicions until I had proof, and I wasn’t sure what proof would mean. Plus, if Amber already felt guilty over how she handled the situation, learning Brian’s behavior had escalated might further derail her. “I’m hoping I’m wrong.”
She no longer looked curious. She seemed fearful. Worried. “Like I said, being around you is hard. But I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It would be nice to talk again.”
I left her room and rushed downstairs. I ran into the open street and gulped the humid air. I struggled to breathe. I struggled to think. Then, I started walking home.
Thirty-Eight
Now
I’m still crying when I return home. It’s like Brian was this little secret I kept locked away. He’s only real to me and Danny and Dr. Walters. Intermittently, Mom. But knowing someone like Zoey knows about Brian and the awful things he did brings his spirit back in full force. He might as well be in the living room with me, laughing as I cry.
I don’t tell Danny about Zoey’s threat. He’s already worried. I don’t want him to know that my psychotic student has defeated me. Danny knows I’ve been reprimanded at work, and I still haven’t told him Bowles suggested it could cost me tenure. How would he look at me if I were to lose my job over this? Over Zoey? Until now, Brian’s been a dark cloud following me from one stage of life to the next. Will he follow my unborn child’s life, too? Will Brian be part of his or her legacy?
When Danny returns home, we eat and watch television, but we don’t talk. With each quiet moment, I rebuild whatever walls between us I thought we’d broken down last night.
I don’t want to report to school on Thursday. It doesn’t matter that I’m expected to work alone in my room all day, entering final grades and making preliminary copies for next year. If there is a next year. The thought of seeing anyone makes me want to vomit.
After a few hours, I make the decision to leave. If Bowles wants to punish me for skipping out early, so be it. He certainly won’t give me tenure for suffering through one last day. And that’s all I’m doing. Suffering. Being in my classroom reminds me of Darcy and Zoey, how I’ve let this entire situation ruin my life. Just as I’m about to open my door, someone knocks. I look through the narrow glass and see Pam. She sees me, too. There’s no way I can just avoid her. I open the door.
“Hey,” she says. We’ve not talked properly since I had my conference with Bowles. I have no idea where the Darcy situation is headed. She looks at the bag around my shoulder. “Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “I think I am.”
“I was coming to remind you to post your grades.”
“Already did.”
“Oh.” She looks at the clipboard in her hand like she’s not reading it right. “It must not have shown up in the system. I’m sorry.”
I nod, waiting for her to move so I can walk out.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“There’s just a lot on my mind.” I look around, avoiding her stare. Every time I’ve told someone what I think in the past week it’s worked against me. And now Zoey, this person I’m convinced is deranged and dangerous, is using my greatest weakness against me.
“May I come in?” she asks. She sees something is wrong, and it’s not in her nature to ignore it. “Please.”
I stand back. She walks in the room and I shut the door.
“You know how crazy the last week of school can be,” Pam says. She sits in the chair next to my desk and nods for me to do the same. “But I wanted to thank you for encouraging Darcy to speak with me. Admitting what happened that night is a huge step for her. And you were instrumental in helping her come to terms with it.”
She’s building up my confidence, but it can’t distract me from the root of this problem. “Did she tell you who attacked her?”
“No. I think that’s why she hesitated to come forward.”
“So, nothing will be done. Even Darcy can’t prove what happened to her.”
“We may not know who attacked Darcy, but the fact she came forward is a huge step. At least now police can start a formal investigation. They can use her statement to find out who is responsible.”
“The police are involved again?”
“I believe so,” she says, rubbing her thumbs. “I can’t provide too much information.”
“The police can only do so much. We both know that,” I say. “Besides, I know who is to blame.”
Her tone changes. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “No one ever said our job is easy. It’s difficult, dealing with clashing personalities and adolescent attitudes. We all have problem students.”
“Zoey’s more than a problem student.”
“I remember this one kid I dealt with,” she says. “It’s like he got along with everyone in the school except me. It was all I could do to register him for classes. You can forget about trying to talk with him about behavior.”
“Why didn’t he like you?” I couldn’t imagine anyone holding a grudge against Pam.
“I still don’t know.” She tilts her head upward, looking through time. “My gut says he wasn’t used to black, female authority figures. Maybe we just didn’t mesh.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” She crosses her legs and puts her hands in her lap. “He graduated and moved on. Last I heard, he was a grad student in Louisiana. Sometimes kids rub us the wrong way, but eventually even those kids grow up.”
“I think that’s what bothers me most,” I say. “The idea Zoey will enter adulthood and still pose a threat.”
“Why are you so convinced this girl is dangerous?”
“She’s not a good person. I think
she hurt Darcy and her mom. She’s been teasing me with information this whole time. Ever since she wrote that damn essay.”
“We don’t know she wrote that—”
“I know she did,” I shout. “And now she’s threatening me.”
“Threatening you?” Pam straightens her posture. “When did she threaten you?”
I’m tearing up. I shouldn’t have mentioned our altercation in the parking lot. It’s not a topic I can simply drop. The frustration I’ve been stifling since yesterday is begging to break free.
“She knows things about me,” I say. “She knows things about my past. I think that’s why she’s given me such a hard time. It’s like a game to her. And she’s threatening to tell other people.”
“How could Zoey Peterson know anything about you? She’s only been here a month.”
“I don’t know. I know she’s looked up stuff about her other teachers, but if she were to tell the people here about my…” My words fall away as I begin to cry. My anxieties have been building since yesterday. There’s no way I can keep these feelings to myself any longer.
“Della, you are a good person,” Pam says after several minutes. “Whatever you think Zoey knows about you, it can’t be that bad.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say, defensively. “But people in my past have.”
The confusion leaves Pam’s face, like a mask has been ripped away. It’s like she’s solved a complicated equation. She smiles weakly. “Are you talking about your brother?”
“You know about Brian?” I feel like all my clothes have been stripped away and my skin is bare for the world to see.
She looks at me like she’s afraid I might break. “I’m not familiar with the details, but I know your brother was convicted of violent crimes.”
“How do you know about him?”
“I’ve known for a long time,” she says. “Probably since you’ve been here.”
“But how? How could you possibly know?”
“I don’t think it’s a well-kept secret. Others know, too.”
I bend over and hold my head in my hands. Is she saying everyone knows about Brian? Marge and Bowles and students, too? The strong exterior I’ve presented at Victory Hills is a sham. People know.
“You’ve never mentioned him,” I say, struggling to breathe. “You’ve never told me.”
“I didn’t see the point,” she says. “It’s not something I think about.”
“Yeah, right.” I lean back. As though anyone could look at me and not see Brian.
She moves closer and grabs my hand. I pull away, but she won’t allow it. She won’t allow me to retreat to my loneliness.
“Della, no one looks at you differently because of your brother. If anything, you’re an inspiration. Great teacher. Happily married. When you’re in the mood, you’re funny. You’re certainly one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met.” She squeezes my hand. “Your childhood doesn’t change the person you are today. You know that, right?”
“But people will judge me. The students will look at me differently.”
“Maybe even some of them know.” This admission makes me cover my face in embarrassment. She scoots closer, puts her hand on my back. “It’s not something that’s talked about. I’ve never heard anyone mention it. Even our students wouldn’t use something like that, something from so long ago that you can’t even control, against you.”
“Zoey has,” I say, wiping tears from my cheeks. “Zoey’s been toying with me this whole time. I think she’s known since she moved here. Since she told me she was from Florida. Yesterday, she said if I didn’t stay out of her business, she’d tell everyone.”
Pam looks down. She bites her lip, like she’s afraid to say more. “Her threat is an empty one. She can’t use it against you. No one cares about your brother. But we all care about you.”
I exhale and regain the composure I lost during my crying fit. Perhaps Pam is right. Some people already know about my past, and they don’t care. They don’t hold it against me. Zoey doesn’t have the power she thinks she has.
“This whole time I’ve thought Brian was my secret to bear.”
“We all have things we’re ashamed about,” she says, rubbing my hand. “But we can’t give them more power than they’re worth.”
She’s right. Zoey can’t use my past against me.
“I must say,” she says, sitting back. “I think so little about it, I didn’t even make the connection. Of course Darcy’s attack would have this effect on you.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that, Pam. I don’t lose my wits every time some poor girl is attacked. I’d be in the looney bin if that was the case. I’m telling you. Something about this kid is not right.”
“I will say I’m surprised she’d use your brother’s past against you. That’s low.” She looks at me. “But I’m being honest when I say I don’t believe she hurt Darcy or her mom.”
I nod and look away. Getting people to trust me won’t be easy. This I’ve known for a long time.
“I just want you to think about it rationally,” she continues, not wanting to lose me. “Maybe this child does remind you of your brother. Maybe this crime is too similar. And for those reasons and a combination of others, you’ve created this new narrative in your head.”
“I’m not creating a story.”
“I’m only asking you to look at the situation objectively. I know you believe you’re right. But for the sake of everyone, yourself especially, reconsider and review the facts.”
“I feel—”
“Not your feelings,” she stops me. “Just the facts.”
I can’t say I’m wrong about Zoey, but I can at least take a step back and reconsider. Chasing this gut feeling has done nothing but destroy the life I worked so hard to build. “I need to think about everything.”
“Get your summer started,” she says, leaning back and smiling. “Who knows if Zoey Peterson will even be here next year.”
Pam wants this comment to soothe me, but if I’m right about Zoey, her marching off to green and naïve territory doesn’t sit well with me. At least here, she has one person monitoring her. All I can do is hope Pam is right. That Zoey is a disturbed girl who will eventually grow up.
Thirty-Nine
Spring 2006
Brian had been violent. He’d been violent to women, in particular. I ran home from Amber’s house. I wasn’t sure what my next step would be. In the past when I’d gone to anyone, they’d blown me off. And I wouldn’t go to the police until I had solid proof. Even then, I wasn’t sure I could do that. Turn Brian in.
I opened the front door and walked into the house. Brian was sitting on the sofa watching television. I jumped back.
“Dell, you okay?” he asked, the remote still in his hand.
“What are you doing here?” There was an edge in my voice.
“I thought I’d surprise you girls this weekend,” he said, looking back at the television. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The hand covering my chest felt my beating heart. I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” I said, as calmly as I could. “Mom home yet?”
“Nope. She doesn’t know I’m here, so don’t tell her. I’d like to surprise her, too.”
“Okay.” I walked to the staircase. “I’m going to change.”
“Where were you?” he asked, still staring at the television. “Your car was here.”
“I went for a walk,” I said. It’s not like I could admit to visiting Amber. Paranoia crept up my neck, like he would somehow know I was lying. “Trying to enjoy the weather.”
I stomped upstairs and shut my bedroom door. Of all days, why did Brian have to visit now? I pulled out my phone to warn Amber.
Just a head’s up. Brian is in town.
Within seconds she texted back: Cool. Already working on a distraction.
Coming from this new version of Amber, I didn’t really know what that meant. Was she getting high? Taking off?
Staying locked in her room? I didn’t really care, as long as she stayed away. I needed to get to the bottom of this SCU thing. I lifted my mattress and found my research folder hadn’t been disturbed. Brian had no reason to think I was onto him, and I needed to keep it that way. I moved the file to my top closet under boxes full of scarves and hats.
As expected, Mom was delighted to see Brian. She raided the cabinets in hopes she had ingredients to make spaghetti. They talked in the kitchen as she prepared the meal. I remained in the living room and listened.
Brian seemed relaxed as he stirred the sauce, then the noodles. He belly-laughed at Mom’s jokes and pulled out chairs at dinnertime. In my mind, I compared the brother beside me to the type of monster who must be responsible for hurting those missing girls. Even thinking about it made me queasy. I couldn’t stand to eat more than a couple of bites of pasta, pushing the soggy noodles around my plate.
“Right, Della?” Mom said, inviting me into the conversation.
“What?” I asked.
“The barbecue tomorrow night,” she said. “You’re coming with me?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, lifting my fork and pretending to eat. “I’m not working this weekend.”
“Great. All three of us can go,” she said. She smiled and sipped her wine.
“You okay, Della?” Brian asked. “You’ve been so quiet.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I swiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “I’m not feeling the best.”
“Drink plenty of fluids,” Mom said, topping off her glass.
“You don’t want to get sick before spring break. You’re going to love SCU,” Brian said.
I smiled, even though it hurt, and took a sip of water.
“Karen called,” Mom continued. “She said you stopped by their house this afternoon. She seemed really happy about it.”
I almost choked on my water, my eyes darting toward Brian.
“I didn’t think you hung out with Amber anymore,” he said.
“I don’t. It was for some school thing,” I said, looking ahead.
What I Know: An utterly compelling psychological thriller full of suspense Page 24