On reflex, my hands ball. “Yeah.”
“You ever get scared about what’ll happen to us after Rookwood?” He threads his fingers together and stares down at his hands.
I remember Max’s words last summer, back when he first met Serena. She was his meal ticket after we graduated. With her, he’d never have to go back to where he came from. “We’ll figure it out, Tommy. We’ll look out for each other.”
“You think you’ll go home?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t want to go back, either,” he says.
“You won’t have to. You’re outta there.”
“I’m scared I’ll never truly be out.”
They’re probably the most honest words I’ve ever heard him say.
“You’re wrong, Tommy. You’ve already gotten out. You’re only dealing because you’re sending your dad the money, right? You’re still working for the guy?”
He won’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. I know.
“You can stop. You’re done. It isn’t you, Tommy. Don’t screw up your life, not when you’re so close to breaking free. We’re at Rookwood so that we can turn our lives around. You said it yourself, this is our second chance.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this right now. Max—”
“Cops are going to be crawling all over the place. They already are. They’re going to be asking questions. Get rid of the drugs.”
“I will,” he says.
“And get your alibi straight.”
He looks at me. I see something in his expression. He’s afraid. I am, too.
“I didn’t kill Max,” he says at last.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just... Someone did this on our own turf. Someone was close enough to take my keys. Someone was close enough to get Max into my car. Max is dead, and we’ve all got blood on our hands.”
I stand and pace around the room as scattered pictures spill through my mind. My car, the harbor, the EMTs.
Max.
Colleen.
The memories haunt me.
“What about you?” Tommy’s voice pulls me back. “It was your car. Have you got an alibi?”
I remember the feel of the pavement beneath my sneakers while I stood outside Jenna’s house, my heart hammering as I waited for Max to show up. But he never showed. “No. I was alone.”
“I’ll cover for you. If the cops ask, we were together.”
And just like that, the lying starts again.
GARDINERS BAY DAILY PRESS
Monday, October 15th
Article written by Jorge Hernandez.
Emergency Services were called to Gardiners Bay harbor in the early hours of Saturday morning to reports of a car submerged in the water.
The driver is yet to be identified and was missing from the scene. A young male was recovered from the front passenger’s side of the submerged vehicle. The male was pronounced dead at the scene, and the family has been informed. He has been identified as eighteen-year-old Max Grayson.
Searches continue for the driver, who is presumed to have survived the accident.
A local resident has commented, “I heard a crashing sound in the early hours, so I looked out my window. Someone ran across the harbor, but it was too dark to make out any details. I thought it was just kids fooling around. The Rookwood boys go down there sometimes.”
This is Gardiners Bay’s second young life lost tragically in a matter of weeks, following the death of seventeen-year-old Colleen O’Dell last month. Questions continue to surround a possible connection between the two incidents.
Gardiners Bay Police Department have declined to comment at this time.
JENNA
I wake to the sound of my phone ringing. Daylight is streaming through my window, but I couldn’t have been asleep for long. I came home just as the sun was rising, creeping into the house like a thief, holding my breath in fear that at any moment, a wrong step could wake Kate. She’d flip if she knew I’d stayed out all night. On Rookwood Beach. With Adam.
I can still feel his touch on my skin. The memory makes me shiver. I don’t want it to go away.
Still half-asleep, I fumble as I reach for my phone. Hollie lights up the screen, with a backdrop of a picture of the two of us together last summer, grinning at the camera. A snapshot in time before any of this happened.
I press answer. “Hol?” My voice sounds bleary.
“Hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Outside, the sun has risen, but it’s still a little earlier than my alarm is set.
I sit upright and comb my fingers through the tangles in my hair. Grains of sand fall free from the knots. “No. Is everything okay?”
“I’m okay. Sorry I didn’t call you back over the weekend. There’s just been so much going on. I had my meeting with the police on Saturday.”
I hold the phone close to my ear. “How did it go?”
“They didn’t arrest me. They only wanted to talk to me about transitioning back to school.”
I exhale in relief. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah! My lawyer seems to think that anything they had against me was all circumstantial and the detectives are looking elsewhere.”
“But didn’t you say more evidence had come to light?”
“Apparently they’re looking into the finger marks or something, but there was no direct connection to me. Nothing that could lead to my arrest.”
I press my hand to my heart. “Hol, I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me, too!” She laughs, and for the first time in a really long while, she sounds like Hollie again. “Finally, we can start to put this in the past.”
“What about school? Are you coming back?”
“Yes. Today.”
“That’s great.”
“I’m freaking out, though.” She lets out a nervous breath. “Does everyone still hate me?”
“No. Of course not.”
“How’s Serena?” she asks quickly. “I heard about Max. Is she doing okay?”
I chew on my thumbnail. “Not really. I saw her yesterday. She’s sad. She’s angry. What can you say to someone who’s just lost their boyfriend?”
“I’ve been meaning to call her. Maybe I should. But with everything that’s been going on lately...”
“Serena understands.”
“It seems like people are thinking that Colleen’s and Max’s deaths are related incidents. I guess you were right to be suspicious of the Rooks. It was probably one of them.”
A chill moves over me. I hug my duvet closer to my chest.
“I really should call Serena.” Hollie’s voice goes quiet. “We’ve just drifted apart.”
“She knows you care about her. She cares about you, too.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “Maybe.” She hesitates for a moment. “Will you meet me before class? I’m having major anxiety about walking into school alone.”
“Of course I’ll meet you. Where?”
“Parking lot,” she says. “An hour?”
“You got it.”
We end the call, and I drag myself to the bathroom. I stand under the shower and watch the few grains of sand that are still clinging to my skin fall away and disappear into the drain.
By the time I reach the wrought iron gates of Preston, Hollie’s car is parked beneath a willow tree. She’s still in the driver’s seat. Her sunglasses are covering most of her face as she stares through the windshield. Clusters of girls wearing the Preston plaid-skirt and white-shirt combo are shooting the odd glance at her cherry-red VW Bug as they stroll past.
I slip into the passenger seat and close the door behind me.
Hollie swivels to face me. She pushes her sunglasses onto her head, trapping stray wisps of blond hair. “I shouldn’t be here. This is a hug
e mistake.”
“You’ll be fine. You had to come back, eventually. It may as well be now.”
A group of juniors walks past. Their eyes skate over us through the windshield.
I notch up my smile for Hollie’s benefit. “It’ll be fine. By lunch, you’ll be yesterday’s news.”
I swing open my door, and Hollie follows my lead. Side by side, we cross the manicured lawn and brick walkways, and fall in sync with the other girls heading into the building.
Nobody really says anything. A few people shoot wary looks our way or smile awkwardly at us. I link my arm through Hollie’s as we brave the arched hallways toward homeroom.
“You’ve got this,” I whisper to Hollie. “You have nothing to hide. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
She nods.
We’ve got this.
But I stop short when we cross into the classroom.
Serena is in her usual seat at the back of the room.
I catch her gaze. “You’re here?” I mouth. I hadn’t expected her to show up to class today. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since the news of Max’s death broke. It was only yesterday that I held her hand while she sobbed into her pillow.
She shrugs back at me. Her dark eyes are still puffy from crying, but now her watery gaze is replaced by a blank and tired stare.
Brianna and Imogen are seated at their desks on either side of her. Their eyes linger on Hollie and me.
Mrs. Gordon steps into class with the clickety-clack of high heels, and I catch Serena’s glazed gaze once more. “Talk later,” I mouth, and she nods.
* * *
At lunch, Hollie and I take our trays to the picnic tables outside. The cafeteria is claustrophobic at the best of times, and with Hollie under the social microscope, the last place we need to be is in the lunchroom.
I set my tray down and slide into the seat opposite Hollie. “So, how bad has it been on a scale of one to ten?”
She raises an eyebrow. “One being the best, ten being the worst?”
I nod.
“Um...” She ponders over the question for a second. “About an eight.”
“Eight? That’s not bad. It’s two better than a full ten.”
“True,” she says, prodding at her potato salad. “It’s been okay, I guess. People are whispering, though. I know they are.”
I roll my eyes. “When are they not whispering?”
“Valid point. It’s been better than I expected, actually. Nobody’s even mentioned Colleen yet, so that’s good.”
“See, I told you. You’re already old news.”
She feigns insult. “Excuse you.”
“I meant that in the best possible way.”
I still haven’t told Hollie about Max’s fling with Colleen. I want to tell her. I should tell her. But the words won’t seem to come out. Maybe because I know that once I say it, once I put the information out there, I can’t take it back.
“Jenna!”
I glance over my shoulder just as Imogen is crossing the quad. Her blond hair is glistening in the low sunlight, and her cheer skirt is fluttering in the breeze as she paces toward us.
She comes to a stop at our table. “Jenna, can I speak with you?”
Hollie and I exchange a glance.
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you. About Serena.” Her eyes wander over Hollie. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
I shoot Hollie a quick look, and she nods. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her.
Imogen sets off across the quad, and I follow her to a quiet spot beneath the willow trees.
“What’s going on?”
She’s gnawing at her perfectly glossed lips. “Serena. You know she ditched right after homeroom?”
“I’m surprised she came to school at all.”
Imogen takes a shaky breath. “I’m really worried about her, Jenna. She totally flipped out at Bri, over nothing. She won’t talk to us about how she’s feeling, and Bri doesn’t even seem to care.”
“Well, it’ll take time, I guess. When Serena’s ready to talk, she will.”
“I hope so,” she says in a soft voice. “I’m just so worried about her. Has she talked to you at all?”
I hold up my hands, helplessly. “A little.”
“Jenna...” She hesitates, biting her lip again. “There is something Serena told me. Something bad.”
A breeze stirs the branches above us, and my stomach knots.
“Bad, like how?”
Imogen starts fiddling with her necklace. “Has she told you about the thing with Max?”
“What do you mean?”
“About Max, and...” She lowers her voice. “About what happened.”
I search her eyes, trying to unpick her comment. And then it dawns on me.
My heart starts beating fast. She knows. Imogen knows about Max and Colleen. Which means Serena knows about Max and Colleen, too.
I grope for words.
Imogen wraps her arms around herself. “Do you know about what happened?”
I glance over my shoulder. There are people passing us on the quad, but everyone seems too absorbed in their own conversations to pay any attention to us. I keep my voice hushed. “About the cheating?”
She draws in a sharp breath.
And I wince. Oh, no.
“What cheating?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Her words start coming out fast. “Tell me, Jenna. You have to tell me. Was Max cheating on Serena? Who with?”
“I don’t know!”
She presses her hands to her face.
“What did you mean?” I ask quickly. “What did you know about Max?”
“That he wasn’t driving the car,” she splutters. “Not that he was...” She lowers her voice. “Cheating.”
“Listen, Imogen, you can’t tell anyone. Serena can’t find out about this now. It’ll destroy her.”
She stares back at me in disbelief. “How do you even know this, anyway? Who told you?”
“That’s not important—”
“Was it Max? Did Max tell you?”
“No. It was Adam.”
The moment I say his name, Imogen’s shoulders relax, and she half laughs.
I blink in confusion. “What’s so funny?”
“Jenna, word of advice. You can’t trust Adam Cole. Don’t believe anything he tells you, okay?”
All of a sudden, my skin feels hot. “What makes you say that?”
“Everyone knows! The guy’s a pathological liar. It’s like the thing he’s known for. Plus, he’s dangerous! Haven’t you heard what he did?”
A bolt of fear shoots through me. “What he did?” I echo, numbly.
She pauses while a group of freshmen girls pass us with their lunch trays. “Yeah,” she says under her breath. “Jenna, he killed his mom.”
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HOLLIE: Hey, lady. What are you up to? I have a free period!
JENNA: I’m in Study Hall. Just internet searching. Stopping now.
HOLLIE: Oh, yeah? What are you searching for?
JENNA: Nothing. I’m being stupid.
HOLLIE: ???
JENNA: Honestly, nothing. Imogen said something earlier that weirded me out for a second, but I’m over it now. So, free period, huh? Wanna meet at the library?
ADAM
Classes carry on as normal on Mon
day. Nothing has changed. Well, something has changed. Max is gone.
And we’re different today. The mood has shifted. Everyone’s quiet, subdued. Even Scotch.
The sun streams through the window, contrasting the darkness inside the classroom. I keep my head down, staring at the words on my paper, at the curve of my own handwriting. I don’t think I’ll remember a single line of what I’ve written.
I think about Max.
I think about Tommy.
I think about Jenna.
It’s right after lunch when the cops show up. I’m not dumb, I know they’re here for me. When Rookwood’s secretary, Miss Morgan, knocks on the classroom door and discreetly hands Ms. Omar a slip of paper, I wait, watch, until both sets of eyes flicker to me.
“Adam.” Ms. Omar says my name. She beckons me to the front of the room.
The class is silent now. I’m talking pin-drop silent. In all my days at Rookwood, I’ve never heard the wall clock tick before. My chair scrapes. I walk across the room.
The cops, I think. Just say it. Everyone already knows. It was my car. Max drowned in the passenger’s seat of my crappy old Dodge.
I follow Miss Morgan along the corridor, and our footsteps echo off the high ceiling. Miss Morgan has always been nice enough. She’s the type of person that smiles a lot, kind of young. Young compared to the rest of the staff here, anyway. At a guess, I’d say she’s midtwenties, with neat blond hair and rosy cheeks. She wears older clothes, though—these woolen calf-length skirts and white ruffled shirts.
She directs me to a seat in the reception waiting area. There’s a small partition window looking into the principal’s office. People are already in the room: the two cops are sitting across from Principal Lomax. My palms start to sweat. I rub my hands on the coarse green fabric of the waiting room sofa.
“You want a glass of water, Adam?” Miss Morgan’s voice makes my head snap up. She’s hovering at the water cooler, holding a disposable cup that she’s already popped from the dispenser.
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks.”
The cooler hums and clicks while she fills the cup. Then she comes over and hands it to me. It’s hard to swallow, but I do it, just so I have something to do.
This Is Why We Lie Page 17