This Is Why We Lie

by Gabriella Lepore

  “Yeah. I get it.” I chew my lip.

  Kate reaches across the island and squeezes my hand. “I can see how much this is affecting you. Colleen wasn’t just some stranger way across the country. She was in your neighborhood. Your school. This is too close to home to ignore.”

  “She was murdered.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “Someone killed her.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have leads?”

  Wearily, she runs her fingers through her damp hair. “There are a few.”

  “And Hollie is still among them?”

  Kate exhales slowly. “Yes,” she admits.

  “But she’s not your only suspect? It could have been someone from Rookwood?”

  “Jenna—”

  “Kate, please.” I try again. “It could have been one of the Rookwood boys, couldn’t it?”

  Her eyes move away from me.

  That’s all I’m going to get.

  ADAM

  “Do you think he did it?” Tommy’s voice seems to echo in the darkness of our room.

  I stare up at the ceiling, following the pattern of shadows with my eyes. “No,” I answer at last. “Do you?”

  “I don’t know anymore, man. He’s been acting so weird.”

  “We’re all acting weird. Because we know how this will look for us if it gets out.”

  “It’s already out,” Tommy mutters.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Then why are the cops questioning us?”

  “Because I found her.”

  His bed frame creaks as he sits up. “But Max and I didn’t find her. Why are they questioning us more than you? They know something, I swear.”

  “Max thinks the Preston girls dropped your names because you guys used to hang out with Colleen sometimes.” A hazy memory of Tommy and Colleen whispering in dark corners flashes through my mind, just like it has countless times since she showed up dead.

  His secret. She knew his secret.

  The bed creaks again as he drops back onto the mattress. “I’m screwed.”

  “Relax. You’re fine. The cops questioned you, and then they realized you had nothing to do with this.” I say the words. Believing them. Believing that the detectives aren’t interested in him. Believing that he had nothing to do with this.

  “But Max...” Tommy trails off.

  “I don’t think he did it.”

  There’s a pause between us, and the wind groans outside. The pecan branches tap at our windowpane. Slow, steady raps.

  Then Tommy speaks again. “Do you think I did it?”

  “No. Do you think I did?”

  “No,” he says, quickly.

  I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d have said yes. The thought had crossed my mind about him, and about Max. We were all angry that night. We all had a lot to lose, in our own ways. She threatened us, and we were scared. People react without thinking when they’re scared.

  When I was a kid, I tried to free a wild dog that had gotten itself caught up in some ropes. The damn dog got spooked, thought I was coming for it, and bit the hell out of my right arm while I was cutting through the rope. I learned that day that when an animal gets cornered, it bites back.

  Any one of us could have bitten back that night.

  After Colleen dropped her grenades and left, Max stepped outside to make a call, Tommy went back to the dorm, and I stayed at the cabin. None of us can really know for sure if anyone followed Colleen. We’re going off the assumption that we trust each other. Because we always have. Because we’ve always had to.

  “I get the feeling he knows something,” Tommy says, breaking our silence. “I think he knows more than he’s telling us.”

  I hold my focus on the ceiling as the shadows from the branches form a spider’s web pattern. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

  * * *

  The wind is howling outside. I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

  Max is pacing around the cabin. He’s raking his hands through his hair. His shirt is bunched at the front, still creased from where she grabbed him.

  Tommy is staring out the window, looking into the darkness.

  She’s gone.

  I touch my arm. The skin is red in four stripes, marks left over from where her fingernails scraped. I pull my sleeve down to cover it.

  “We should go after her.” Tommy’s voice is hoarse.

  “No,” I tell him. “Don’t.”

  Max starts for the door. “I’m going to find her.”

  I’m on my feet, fast. I block him. “Don’t follow her. She’s mad. You’ll just make things worse.”

  The muscles in his jaw clench.

  “What if she pops off again and someone hears her?” I try to reason with him. “She could blow everything up, and we’ll get busted for being out here.” I tug my sleeve lower, pulling the hem over my wrist. “We can’t get caught bringing girls out here. Come on, man.”

  He shoulders past me.

  “Max.”

  He glances back. His face is drawn. “Relax,” he mutters. “I’m not going to look for her. I’ve got to go make a call.”

  He pats his pockets as he ducks outside. The wind howls, and the door slams shut behind him.

  HOLLIE: Where’s your head at with the Max thing?

  JENNA: I don’t know. I think I’m going to talk to Serena about it at school today.

  HOLLIE: Bold. Are you sure about that? She won’t want to hear it.

  JENNA: She might know something. Maybe deep down she suspects him too?

  HOLLIE: Yeah, right!

  JENNA: It’s worth a shot. If I can get something on Max, this could help clear your name.

  HOLLIE: Well, here’s hoping. Thanks, Jenna. I love you for trying.

  JENNA

  “Yesterday was fun.”

  Serena comes to a stop at my locker and hovers while I slide my books onto the lower shelf. I push the locker door shut, and she beams at me.

  “Yesterday,” she says again, waving her hand in front of my face like I’ve spaced out on her or something. “Rookwood. Me, you, ditching school after Colleen’s memorial...”

  “Yeah. Fun.”

  Her smile fades. “You didn’t have fun?”

  I shrug. “Rookwood.”

  A junior girl is loitering at her locker a couple of paces away from us. Her gaze flickers our way at the mention of Rookwood, like it’s some secret world that she can only dream of.

  I roll my eyes and turn back to Serena. “It’s not that I didn’t have fun with you, it’s just...”

  “What?”

  “Rookwood.”

  “But I thought you were having a good time.” She blinks back at me. “It looked like you were getting on pretty well with Adam. You were outside talking to him for, like, ever.”

  “Yeah, because he was the only person I knew there. Apart from you, and you were busy.”

  She grins, clearly missing my point. “Oh, you know him, do you?”

  “Well, no.” I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “I mean, I kinda know him. You know what I mean.”

  Serena leans against the bank of lockers and sighs. “You should have told me you weren’t having fun, Jenna. We could have left sooner.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Right.”

  “What?”

  “You were a little distracted.”

  She frowns.

  “With Max,” I remind her. She really shouldn’t need me to remind her of this. She was all over him from the moment we arrived, right up until the moment we left. I practically had to pry her off of him.

  She smiles at me now, half-apologetic, half-smug. “He’s cute, right?”

  Cute is not a word I’d have used to describe Max. Kittens are cute. Max is no kitten.

 
I wait a couple of seconds while the junior girl abandons eavesdropping and joins the corridor foot traffic before I continue. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Serena tilts her head. “Oh, yeah? What?”

  “How well do you really know Max?”

  She hesitates. “He’s my boyfriend. I’d say I know him pretty well.” Her tone is guarded—understandably so.

  “Are you sure? Are you sure you really know him?”

  She folds her arms. “Jenna, where are you going with this?”

  “Did you know that he was interviewed by the cops right after Colleen’s body was found?”

  “Ew, Jenna. Don’t say Colleen’s body. It’s so macabre.”

  “Did you know that he was interviewed?”

  “Yeah, apparently Colleen used to talk about him and whatever.” She smooths an imaginary crease from her school sweater.

  “So the police questioned Max just because Colleen mentioned his name around Preston?”

  “Yeah. I was interviewed too,” she says, flipping her glossy, black hair over her shoulder. “So were you. What’s your point?”

  “I was interviewed because I was there when Adam found her. You were interviewed because...”

  “Because Colleen and I knew each other,” she says.

  “A lot of people knew Colleen,” I point out. “Why did the police choose to interview Max, and then you right after?”

  She swallows. There’s a beat of silence before she brushes me off again. “I don’t know. Because I’m captain of the cheerleading squad and Colleen used to be on the team.”

  She’s reaching. I can hardly blame her. I’m basically insinuating that her boyfriend screwed her over. She knows it. I know it. The junior eavesdropper would have known it too if she’d stuck around long enough to hear it.

  “Max sold you out to the cops.” The words tumble from my mouth, way more bluntly than I’d intended when I’d rehearsed this conversation in my head.

  Her jaw drops a little. “What are you talking about?”

  “Max gave your name to the police.”

  “Yeah, well...” She rakes her fingers through her hair. “I’m his girlfriend. They probably asked how he knew Colleen, and he probably said through me. I was the one who first brought her to the cabin parties.”

  I purse my lips.

  Her eyes narrow. “How do you know that Max gave the cops my name, anyway? Did your aunt tell you?”

  “No. I just...”

  “Because I’m pretty sure that’s misconduct or something.”

  My stomach flips. “Of course Kate didn’t tell me,” I backtrack. Serious damage control needed. “I’m speculating. Max must have given your name to the police, because who else would have?”

  “So what if he did? Max loves me. You don’t even know him, and you’re acting like...” Her voice cracks, and she halts the sentence.

  “Serena. Come on.”

  She looks away. Her eyes have started to glisten.

  “Serena, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you.”

  “Then stop talking about my boyfriend like he’s this bad guy. Stop making out like you know anything about him. You don’t know him.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I’m just trying to look out for you.” I nudge her arm, and she manages a smile.

  “I know you’re looking out for me.” She pauses and blots the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl, Jenna. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay.” I’m not sure if my voice carries much conviction.

  “You don’t know Max,” she says again.

  She’s right. But I can’t ignore the nagging suspicion that she doesn’t know Max, either. That no one really does.

  * * *

  I notice Imogen heading into the upper-floor bathroom at lunch, so I follow her. The door falls shut behind me.

  Imogen is leaning over one of the sinks, checking her makeup in the mirror. She tucks a strand of pale-blond hair behind her ear and catches my gaze in the mirror.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I reply. Imogen and I aren’t friends, exactly, but we’re okay. Imogen is one of the only other girls in our grade who isn’t from a wealthy family. She transferred here on a scholarship, so I figure she isn’t just a pretty face, she must be seriously smart too. Back in junior year, she got a B-on a test and had this huge meltdown in the science lab. It was a whole thing. I’m just banking on her being as emotionally smart as she is book smart.

  She turns away from her reflection. “What’s up, Jenna?”

  I glance over at the bathroom stalls. The doors are all ajar. We’re alone.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Well, something. I guess I wanted to talk to you. In private.” I cringe as the words come out. There’s a high chance that whatever I say to Imogen will get back to Serena. I’m not sure if that really matters at this point. Serena already knows how I feel.

  “Okay,” Imogen answers slowly. “Sounds heavy.”

  I take a deep breath. “You see a lot of Max, right?”

  Her brow furrows.

  “I mean, at Rookwood,” I elaborate. “You go to the parties there with Serena on the weekends, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Colleen used to go too, right?”

  “Yeah.” Imogen’s expression is blank. Clearly, she has no idea where I’m going with this.

  “So, about Max.” I forge on. “What do you think of him?”

  “He’s okay.” She combs her fingers through the ends of her hair. “I don’t really know him.”

  “Do you get a vibe, though?”

  “A vibe?” she echoes. “Like what?”

  I run my hands up and down my arms. The bathroom feels cold, all of a sudden. “There’s just something I don’t trust about him. Serena doesn’t see it. She’s totally blinded by him.”

  “He’s kind of hard to read, maybe. But they all are. The Rooks, y’know?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  She leans against the sink. “Actually, Max is from my old neighborhood. His family has a pretty bad reputation.”

  My eyebrows rise. “I didn’t realize you knew Max from before.”

  “Kind of my claim to fame, knowing a Rook, huh?” She gives me an ironic smile. “But honestly, I didn’t really know him. We went to the same middle school, and he was always getting into trouble.” She rolls her eyes. “He was that guy.”

  “Clearly, if he’s ended up at Rookwood.” I pause at the thought. “Do you know why he was sent there?”

  “I think he stole a car.” She holds up both hands. “But don’t quote me on that. Serena probably knows more than I do.”

  I fall silent for a second.

  “I don’t think he’s dangerous,” Imogen adds. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”

  My gaze wanders to the mirror and lands on my own reflection. I look tense. My hands are knotted together, and my brow is creased.

  “You’re not so sure?” she asks.

  “I’m just worried about Serena. I’m worried about what she’s getting herself into with him. Can she really trust him?”

  “Oh, Max is totally committed to her. I know you don’t go to Rookwood parties much, but when they’re together, it’s like they’re physically incapable of being apart for more than a few seconds. I don’t think he’d do anything to jeopardize their relationship.”

  “Okay, but what about Colleen?” My words come out fast.

  Imogen hesitates for a beat. “What about Colleen?”

  “Colleen used to brag about being close with Max. Do you think Max could have had anything to do with...”

  “What, her death?”

 
I say nothing.

  “Jenna, no offense, but I think your imagination is running away with itself. Maybe because all the attention is on Hollie right now, you’re looking for someone else to blame.” She pulls a tube of lip gloss from her pocket and dabs on a fresh layer. “Max is only at Rookwood for stealing a car.” She catches my gaze in the mirror. “Plenty of people have done way worse.”

  Her words hang heavily in the air.

  ADAM

  Classes are small at Rookwood. On a good day there are around ten of us in each. They keep the classes small deliberately—I don’t think they want us to outnumber them by too much. That’s probably a good idea.

  There’s a Code Red most days. When it happens, I try to keep my head down. I just pull on my headphones and crank up the volume while some kid loses it, flipping tables and pulling out fistfuls of his own hair.

  We’re in math today, and I can feel the tension building. Scotch is sitting across the room from me, near the window. He’s muttering to himself. His words are sharp and fast, like he’s getting frustrated. He can’t figure out the calc problem and it’s getting to him. He’s been kicking the desk leg and rapping his knuckles on his paper for the past ten minutes.

  And he just keeps on muttering under his breath.

  I scan the room. Max catches my eye and smirks, like he knows what’s coming. Tommy raises an eyebrow.

  And then it starts. I flinch as Scotch’s papers suddenly scatter across the classroom. Ms. Omar’s head snaps up.

  “Tyler.” She calls him by his first name. Her voice is calm. All the staff here use that voice, that calm, soothing, safe-place shit. I figure they’ve all taken the same training course. How to Defuse a Meltdown 101. “Tyler, calm down, please.”

  Scotch bangs his head on the desktop. “Fuck this bullshit, man!” He throws his pen.

  A couple of the guys start cheering him on—Max included.