Jenna rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“My dad came back on the scene after that. He had to, I was just a kid. But I lost it. I kind of spiraled for a little while. I started acting out, self-destructing, and my dad couldn’t deal with me anymore. The cops stepped in. They called social services, and the next thing I knew, I was here.” My eyes travel over the rocky shore. “The other guys here don’t know about what happened. Only Tommy and Max.”
She’s looking at me, waiting for more. The mention of Max has made her fingers tighten around mine.
“Max understood,” I say. “There were people in his family who were addicts. He got it. Anyway, he told one of the Preston girls about my mom one night. I guess it was Colleen. He came clean to me, though, said he’d had too much to drink and it just came out. We were cool after. But it didn’t matter, it was too late.”
“But you didn’t kill your mom.” Her voice is soft. “You must have told Max that.”
“Yeah. Maybe he got the story wrong. Or maybe those girls who found out figured I must have killed her for the cops to intervene. Things must have gotten seriously messed up for me to have been sent here. Anyway, looks like the rumor is out now.” I turn to Jenna, and she’s with me, completely. “They didn’t see the years I spent watching her fade away after my dad left. They don’t know the guilt that eats away at me. They just see the guy who watched her die.”
“That’s not who you are.”
“No. But it’s a part of my story. It made me who I am.”
She sighs. “Who you are is a caring and loyal guy. Your mom would have been proud of you. Your dad should be, too.”
A hollow sound escapes my throat.
Her hand moves along my arm, and then her lips find mine in the darkness.
I pull her closer to me. “Thank you for coming back.”
“Thank you for being here when I did.”
IMOGEN: Hey, girls. Has anyone heard from Serena? I’m pretty sure she blocked me. I really don’t know what I’ve done wrong.
BRIANNA: Drop it already, Ims! If Serena doesn’t want to talk to you, that’s her problem. Wanna go out tonight?
IMOGEN: Jenna? What do you think about the Serena situation? Update me.
JENNA: She’s just in a really tough place right now. Don’t take it personally.
IMOGEN: Has she talked to you, though?
BRIANNA: Imogen! Seriously! We don’t even like Serena!
JENNA
I open Colleen’s Instagram page. The comments on her posts have stopped now. It’s like she’s slipping into a hazy memory. There are fewer miss you! comments. Fewer so sad! comments. Now, there are just frozen pictures and distant dates.
But I’m not here to read the comments. I need to go further back. Back to the pictures taken before Colleen was murdered.
As my eyes wander over the photos, I start to notice details. Details that I didn’t pay attention to before. Like Max, for example. There’s only one shot of Colleen with Max. Her arm is draped around his neck, and she’s gazing blearily at him. But he’s looking away from her.
He’s looking at someone else.
I move on to Max’s profile next. It’s mostly shots of him. Some alone, some with Serena, some with Adam or the other Rooks. Everything’s kind of generic. Just a normal guy, doing normal things.
But there’s one common thread in dozens of the pictures: there’s someone in the background. She’s hovering just within the boundaries of the frame. Blond hair caught in the camera’s flash. Eyes lingering on him.
She’s watching him. And a lot of the time, he’s watching her too.
It hits me all of a sudden. I’ve been wrong.
All this time, I’ve been wrong about everything.
Finger marks, that’s what the police had found as possible evidence. They were looking at the finger marks of a female. I’m sure of it.
I listen for movement in the house. Kate is asleep, her bedroom across the hall is silent.
I scroll through my Contacts list and press Call.
ADAM
My phone lights up the darkness of the dorm room. Jenna’s name is on the screen.
I glance at Tommy. He’s breathing steadily under the covers. He’s been asleep for a while.
Grabbing my phone, I stand and step into the corridor. I close the door quietly behind me and hit answer.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” her voice comes back to me. “Did I wake you?”
“No.” I scrub my hand through my hair. “I was already awake.”
She hesitates.
“Is everything okay?”
She takes a quick breath. “You said Max was seeing Colleen behind Serena’s back.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? Are you sure it was Colleen?”
My brow furrows as I stare along the dimly lit corridor. “Yeah. Of course.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“She said it.” I lower my voice. “Colleen threatened him that night. I told you that already.”
“Yes, but what did Colleen say, exactly?”
I drag my mind back to that Friday night in the cabin, the last time any of us saw Colleen alive. “I’m going to tell Serena exactly what you’ve been doing behind her back.” I echo her words. They’re burned into my memory now. Just like she is.
“Did Max ever directly tell you that he was cheating on Serena with Colleen?”
“We knew he was. He was acting shady. He used to talk about a girl. A girl who wasn’t Serena.”
“He used to talk about Colleen? He actually said her name?”
I have to think back. Ever since the night Colleen disappeared, everything has blurred and skewed. “No,” I say to Jenna. “No. He never mentioned her name.”
“So,” she says, letting out a tense breath, “what if it wasn’t Colleen?”
It takes me a moment to catch up with her train of thought. “You mean, what if Colleen found out he was cheating on Serena with someone else and threatened him?”
I’m going to tell Serena exactly what you’ve been doing behind her back.
“Could be, right?”
“Colleen was mad that night.” I piece together my scattered memories. “She was really mad.”
“So, maybe she knew about Max cheating with someone, and she was threatening to tell Serena. That would explain why things got so heated. In their own strange way, Colleen and Serena were actually friends. I don’t know, maybe Colleen felt a moral duty to tell Serena.”
I have to catch myself. It’s not only Colleen who isn’t around to ask anymore. Max isn’t around, either. Sometimes, I have to remind myself of that. “I don’t think Max would have told me the truth about this anyway,” I say aloud, and the realization stings a bit. “He was covering something up. I know he was.”
Max was covering his secret.
Just like Tommy covered his.
And I tried to cover mine.
“You still don’t think Max killed Colleen?” Jenna’s voice jolts me back.
“No. But he knew who did.”
When she doesn’t respond, my grip tightens around my phone. “Jenna?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “I’m still here.”
“Where’s your head at?”
“Max cheated on Serena last summer as well. Do you know who it was with?”
My eyes wander over the empty corridor. Everything’s quiet. Everything’s dark. “No. I didn’t know about that.”
“Serena said it was with a friend. Could it be the same girl this time around?”
“What, and Max has been seeing her since the summer? And Colleen found out?”
She’s breathing fast. “It’s a possibility, right?”
“Yeah.” I remember the fara
way look in Max’s eyes when he spoke about the girl he’d fallen for. The girl who wasn’t Serena.
“If Colleen threatened to expose them, and then Max was going to come clean to Serena last week...”
“That’s twice she could have been caught out.”
“Maybe the same girl is behind both murders.”
I rub the nape of my neck. “You think someone would care that much about screwing Serena over? Kill two people rather than get called out as a home wrecker?”
“No. I think there’s a lot more to it than that.”
I gaze up at the shadows on the ceiling. “Right. You said this girl from the summer was a friend of Serena’s?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t know who?”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
“The girl who everyone blamed?” Jenna falters when I say the name out loud. “Hollie.”
JENNA
I hear the commotion before I even step into the cafeteria.
Girls have already flocked around the lunch tables, trying to get the best view of the catfight taking place at our table.
I push my way through the crowd.
Hollie is at the center of it.
“Whoa! What’s going on?”
Hollie points a trembling finger at Colleen. “Ask her!”
Colleen smirks. “I don’t know what this bitch is talking about.” Compared to Hollie, Colleen doesn’t even look fazed. She’s leaning back in her seat, sipping soda through a straw.
“Liar!” Hollie screams. “You knew how much I liked him, and you still went after him.”
Colleen blinks back at her, all doe-eyed and guiltless. “Who?”
“You know who!”
I place my hand on Hollie’s arm. “Come on, Hol. Calm down.” I glance around at the circus of hungry onlookers. This is not a fight that needs to happen in the Preston cafeteria. The social leeches will be all over this.
Hollie’s jaw clenches. “You’re a snake, Colleen. You really are.”
Her hands flutter to her chest. “Who, me?”
I hold Hollie’s arm a little tighter.
“Listen, Hol,” Colleen says, “whatever you think I did, you’re wrong. I don’t do sloppy seconds. You got that?”
“Then why is there a picture of you draped all over him?”
“Excuse you, stalker. I’m not a skank. I didn’t kiss your boy. Or your wannabe boy, whatever.”
Hollie glares at her. “If I find out you have, I swear...”
Colleen stands up at the challenge. “Yeah? You’ll what?”
“I’ll kill you!”
“Yeah. Whatever, bitch.” Colleen flips her hair and turns away.
Interview with Hollie Braithwaite,
conducted by Detective Kate Dallas at 9:05 a.m.
on Monday, October 1st.
K.D.: Let’s get straight to the point, Hollie. How did you know Colleen O’Dell?
H.B.: She was my friend. I’ve known her since middle school.
K.D.: You girls were close?
H.B.: We were friends.
K.D.: I heard that you and Colleen had quite some argument the day before she was found. You want to tell me about that?
H.B.: What? What do you mean?
K.D.: I think you know what I mean, Hollie.
H.B.: Oh. Yes. I think so. But it wasn’t even really an argument. Not really.
K.D.: That’s not what your classmates are saying.
K.D.: Hollie? Want to try this again? Tell me about the fight you had with Colleen O’Dell on Friday, September twenty-eighth.
H.B.: It was nothing. Colleen and I both liked the same guy. But it was nothing serious. It was nothing. Honestly. We were fine. We were all good again, like, five minutes later. I swear.
K.D.: Who was this boy you were fighting over?
H.B.: Just a boy we hang out with sometimes. He’s a student at Rookwood.
K.D.: I’m going to need a name.
H.B.: His name’s Scotch. I mean, Tyler Scotch.
ADAM
“Dad. What are you doing here?”
“Adam. I’ve been trying to call you.” He paces toward me from across the courtyard. The sun is rising over the treetops, throwing strips of light across the ground.
I pat my pockets. “I must have left my cell in the dorm.”
I’m trying to remember the last time I saw him. A year ago, maybe? I don’t see him at behavior management meetings. I know he comes, but I don’t see him.
He looks the same, but older, grayer. There are more lines around his eyes.
We face each other in the courtyard as the morning breeze drags through the trees.
“How are you?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“How can I help?” he presses. “What do you need?”
“A miracle would be nice.”
“I found a lawyer.” He takes a crumpled flyer from his shirt pocket and shows it to me. A middle-aged woman dressed in a power suit glowers at me from the glossy paper. Her inked face is faded in parts from where the flyer has been folded. “She’s good. She has a great track record for cases like this. We can fix this.”
“This isn’t your problem, Dad. I do alright on my own. I always have.”
He grimaces. “This is serious, Adam. Why didn’t you tell me the police are coming here to question you today? I had to hear it from your principal.”
“It’s not a big deal.” I take the flyer and inspect it a little closer. There’s a whole load of small print at the bottom. Dial-a-Lawyer kind of shit.
“It is a big deal. They might arrest you, Adam. Do you understand that?”
“Yeah. I’ve done this before. Remember?”
His eyes move away from mine. And we’re right back to where we were a year ago. Distant. Guarded.
I grit my teeth. “Why are you here, Dad?”
“To help you. You need my help.”
I laugh under my breath.
“Adam,” he says. “I’m trying. Give me something. Talk to me.”
“You want me to talk?”
“Please.”
“Alright.” I take a ragged breath. “Do you think I did it?” The words come out fast.
“Of course not. That’s why I’m here, to help straighten this damn mess out.”
“No. I didn’t mean that.” I hesitate for a beat. “Do you think I killed Mom?” The sound of the words unleashed into the empty courtyard make my stomach turn.
“No,” he murmurs. “No, you didn’t kill your mother.”
I’m silent, just still, listening to the whispers of the ghosts that haunt us.
“She was an addict,” he says. “She had a sickness, and she couldn’t get a handle on it. None of that was your fault.”
“You sent me here. Right after Mom died, you showed up out of nowhere, and you sent me here. Do you know how much that screwed me up?”
He runs a calloused hand over his face. “I was in over my head,” he mutters. “I didn’t know how to be a dad. I still don’t.”
“I was just a kid.”
“I know. You think I don’t regret what happened back then?”
“Honestly?” I hold his stare. “No. No, I don’t think you regret it at all.”
“I thought you’d have a better chance here, at this school.” He gestures to the looming gothic building behind us. “There are opportunities for you. I thought you’d be better off here than wasting away on the goddamn farm with me and the memories of your mom.”
I think of the scholarship, the chance I could have if I work hard enough to make it a reality. But that was before I became a suspect in a double homicide.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse.
“Yeah.” I stuff my hands into my pocket
s. “Me, too.”
“You’re my son. I know I screwed up. But you’re my son.”
I nod. My eyes stray from him and linger on the slowly swaying trees. Truth is, I think I’ve forgotten how to be a son. But we can start again. Maybe.
He offers his hand, and I shake it. Maybe that’s all I need. Maybe that’s all I ever needed.
JENNA
I need to talk to you, I write to Serena.
My hands are shaking.
There’s a monster out there, and I think I know who she is.
The problem is there’s only one person who can help me figure out who Max was cheating with last summer. And that’s Serena. But she won’t take my calls.
I didn’t sleep. I spent all night waiting for dawn. Waiting for Serena to wake up and check her messages.
Finally, after a dozen unread texts, a little tick appears alongside the last message I sent to her. She’s read it.
The minutes pass by slowly. I keep checking my cell. But there’s nothing new from Serena.
I stare at my phone.
Come on, Serena.
I try messaging her again. I really need to talk to you. I know this is hard for you, but I think I know who Max was cheating on you with, and it wasn’t Colleen. Please call me.
It takes a few minutes, but finally, Serena’s response flashes across my phone’s screen.
Can you meet?
Yes, I write back, quickly. Your house?
I’m not there. Meet at the cabin.
I frown at the text message. The Rookwood cabin was locked up by the groundskeeper after what happened to Max. As far as I was aware, it had been boarded shut to stop any more prohibited parties from taking place on the school grounds.
I try calling Serena again, but she doesn’t pick up.
Why are you at Rookwood? I type. Can I meet you back at your house? Or at Chai?
She responds. I’m already at the cabin. Meet here. There’s no one else around.
That doesn’t exactly fill me with optimism. Why are you there?
She doesn’t reply. But I guess it makes sense that Serena would want to return to the place where she’d shared most of her memories with Max. Maybe this makes her feel closer to him somehow.
This Is Why We Lie Page 20