Take the Fall(23)

“Look,” he says. “Whatever you believe, you should take the photo to the sheriff.”

I blink, surprised. “What does that get you?”

“Probably more scrutiny.” His face seems oddly conflicted. “But let’s be real, it would look worse for me if something happened to you.”

I raise one eyebrow, staring uneasily at the picture. If he’s telling the truth and he didn’t do this, I wouldn’t know where to start guessing who did. Or actually, that’s not true. I wouldn’t know which suspect to focus on from Gretchen’s SD card.

“Supposing you didn’t attack me, or kill Gretchen, or put this in my locker . . . what were you hoping for when you asked for my help?”

“I need to clear my name.” He pauses, takes a breath. “I was hoping whatever you saw that night . . . you could at least say it wasn’t me.”

I close my eyes, but as soon as I do I’m back in the woods, running terrified through darkness. I open them fast, gripping the arms of my chair like I’m clinging to the daylight.

“You want to know what I saw.”

“What you can remember, yeah.”

I weave my fingers together. I’m not ready for this. When I think about telling Marcus everything I told the sheriff, I feel sick. “I—I just can’t right now.”

“Come on, Sonia,” he says, like he’s losing patience. “This is important.”

“Really? For who?” My voice comes out sharp, but my jaw trembles.

Marcus studies me a long time, but then his eyes soften. “Maybe you’d feel better if you talk about it.”

I grasp the edge of the table, surprised. “Talk? To you?”

He shrugs.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Even if I was ready to buy half the stuff he’s saying, he’s the one who should be explaining things to me. “If I need to, I’ll find myself a shrink.”

He lifts his chin, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Sonia, I know you’re scared. It’s okay. I know what it’s like to—”

“Has anyone ever tried to kill you?” I wipe my cheek and glare at him. “You’re just thinking about college plans and what there is to eat in the fridge, and the next instant you’re wondering if this is the moment you’re going to die. It’s so fast—you’re just crossing a bridge, and then you’re on the ground, and the sky gets mixed up with the earth and the trees and you can’t breathe.” I gasp. “Instinct makes you fight, adrenaline makes you scream, but there’s a second when everything goes dark and you think, This is it. And you just hope it’s over fast.”

Marcus’s eyes are black.

“It feels like shit to talk about,” I say.

His jaw hardens. “If I’d been there—” He stops. “I wasn’t there, I promise.”

I take a long, deep breath, trying to erase hot tears with my sleeve. “Well if you weren’t there, where were you? How come even the sheriff thinks you killed her?” I know I’m pushing it with that last part, and it has the desired effect.

He balls his hands into fists. “Did he tell you that?”

“He hasn’t exactly been singing your praises.”

“I left the party to check in on my grandmother—she’s been sick. I was home with her until eleven thirty.” He pauses. “Then I went for a walk.”

“A walk? Where?”

“In the park.” He sighs. “But the sheriff said you were attacked closer to eleven. It wasn’t me.”

Something flits through the back of my mind, and when it finally settles, I draw in a breath. “Aisha saw you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sounds irritated. “Trust me, the sheriff has already been all over that.”

My right eye begins to twitch. “Guess they must believe you if they haven’t arrested you yet.”

Marcus’s face clouds. “Look, Sonia, I’ll admit I’ve been a total ass to you. If I were you, I wouldn’t want anything to do with me, either. But is there any way we can put that behind us for now? I . . . I really need you.”

My mouth falls open. Until he and Gretchen broke up, Marcus had been a grand champion at loathing me. If I walked into a room, he’d leave. If he came over when I was with Gretchen, he’d flat out ask her to get rid of me. Nothing could have prepared me to hear him say this. My heart pounds.

He glances at his house. “Listen, I’m going to tell you something—basically, what I’m about to say could really f*ck things up for me. But I’m telling you because I want you to trust me.”

I shift in my seat. Trust is not something I have in abundance anymore, but I guess I’m afraid enough to hear him out.

“My grandmother lied to the sheriff about seeing me that night.” He exhales. “She’s scared to death about what’s happening, but she believes me. I was here until eleven thirty, but she was already asleep when I got home. Basically, I have no alibi.”

I cover my mouth, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“You can go notify the sheriff if you want, but I wouldn’t be telling you this if I was guilty.”

“So, it could have been you. . . .” I speak slowly, not sure if I’m more shocked that he really has no alibi or that he actually just told me as much.