Take the Fall(31)

If she could see her sister now.

“I can’t look at you here without expecting her to come bounding into the room.” Mr. Meyer joins me. His voice is sad, but lacks any hint of bitterness.

I’ve hardly ever spoken to Gretchen’s dad alone. For someone so powerful, he’s not a big man, but I find myself tongue-tied whenever he speaks warmly to me.

“It’s hard to be here without her,” I say to the floor.

“I hope you won’t change your plans, Sonia. She wouldn’t want you to. She was so proud when you got that scholarship.”

I weave my fingers together and nod. Gretchen and her dad were close—closer than she was to her mother. But I’ve often wondered if either of them truly knew her at all.

An older man approaches with a well-preserved blonde in Chanel. “Carlton, if there’s anything Mindy and I can do . . .”

Mr. Meyer gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, and as he walks away I watch, confused, wondering exactly who should have been comforting whom.

A familiar figure catches my eye across the room. Aisha’s brother lurks just outside the main group of football players. I dart over, glad for the chance to talk with him alone.

“Hey, Tyrone.”

“Sonia.” He’s wearing a dark suit that looks like it’s probably his dad’s. The expression on his face makes me think he can’t wait to take it off.

“It’s good to see you again.” I’m still unclear why he’s home from college, and though Aisha swore he was holed up in his room all Friday night, there’s no way she could be sure. She was still at Brianne’s party when I left. “So, how was freshman year?”

He lowers his voice. “Aisha probably told you what happened.”

“She . . . didn’t,” I say, a little afraid to ask.

Tyrone shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at his parents standing by the dessert table. “It didn’t really work out with Notre Dame.”

“Oh. No.” I open my mouth, not sure if I should ask why or just say I’m sorry. But then Aisha comes up beside me, wrapping me in a quick hug.

“Hey. It was really nice, what you said at the church.”

“Thanks.” I flush, unable to recall anything but the parts I’d like to forget.

“Can you believe Marcus showed?” Haley whispers. “If he is guilty, that took major balls.”

Tyrone clears his throat. “I’m heading home. Aisha, you ready to go?”

She shakes her head. “I’ll stay for a bit. Derek can walk me back.”

Tyrone gives a wary look over his shoulder at Derek, who’s loading up a huge plate of food in the next room. “Text me if you need me to come get you.”

She nods. Tyrone looks at me once more, lingers over a framed photograph of Gretchen on the piano, and disappears without another word.

Aisha frowns.

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, he’s . . . just taking all of this really hard.”

The expression on her face is so conflicted, I’m not sure if she means Notre Dame or Gretchen.

Tyrone is one of those guys who wouldn’t have gotten over Gretchen even if she hadn’t died. They started hooking up last year when he was a senior, but never progressed to actual dating. Gretchen liked her boys a little dangerous—guys her parents wouldn’t approve of. Tyrone didn’t exactly fit the bill. Instead, they snuck in and out of each other’s bedroom windows, or occasionally the back of her car, until right after he graduated, when she called the whole thing off. She cited his impending departure for college, but Tyrone was crushed when she immediately hooked up with Kevin.

That was almost a year ago, and I still can’t picture Tyrone ever hurting Gretchen, let alone sending me threats . . . but he does seem unsettled. I start to ask Aisha to clarify, but a waiter approaches us with a tray of small vegetable pastries, and as soon as he leaves, we’re joined by some kids from school who all want to talk about Marcus.

“Did you hear he carved Gretchen’s name into his arm?”

“Do you think he showed up out of guilt?”

“I bet he got off on it.”

“Shut up, he didn’t do it.” Once again, Yuji is the lone voice of dissent. Or maybe just the only one brave enough to speak up.

Haley glares at him. “You sound pretty sure of that. How do we know it wasn’t you?”

Yuji just gives her one of his usual wounded expressions, though I hesitate at her words. Haley wasn’t happy with Gretchen after their breakup, but she was furious with Yuji. I think it took him a while to piece together that rescheduling their dates and letting Gretchen fill up his weekends with tennis practice was the problem, but it’s clear he’s never gotten over it. I suppose either one of them could’ve held a grudge against Gretchen, but anything more than that seems doubtful. I can’t come up with a great reason it couldn’t have been Yuji in the woods that night, but I know for sure Haley was home, grounded.

The longer I look at the people around me, the more everyone seems like a potential suspect. My mind returns to the photo in my locker, the jagged lines where my face should have been. I clench my jaw. If I can figure out who’s after me, maybe I can tie them back to Gretchen. But I can’t do anything until I narrow the pool. I hide my trembling hands behind my back and raise my voice enough for the whole group to hear.