One of Us is Lying(72)
“Maybe Simon rejected her and she … killed him?” Cooper looks doubtful before he finishes the sentence. “Don’t see how, though. She wasn’t there.”
Bronwyn shrugs. “We don’t know that for sure. When I talked to Eli, he kept saying somebody could’ve planned the car accident as a distraction to slip into the room. If you take that as a possibility, anyone could’ve done it.”
I made fun of Bronwyn when she first brought that up, but—I don’t know. I wish I could remember more about that day, could say for sure whether it’s even possible. The whole thing’s turned into a blur.
“One of the cars was a red Camaro,” Cooper recalls. “Looked ancient. I don’t remember ever seeing it in the parking lot before. Or since. Which is weird when you think about it.”
“Oh, come on,” Addy scoffs. “That’s so far-fetched. Sounds like a lawyer with a guilty client grasping at straws. Someone new was probably just picking up a kid that day.”
“Maybe,” Cooper says. “I dunno. Luis’s brother works in a repair place downtown. Maybe I’ll ask him if a car like that came through, or if he can check with some other shops.” He holds up a hand at Addy’s raised brows. “Hey, you’re not the police’s favorite new person of interest, okay? I’m desperate here.”
We’re not getting anywhere with this conversation. But I’m struck by a couple of things as I listen to them talk. One: I like all of them more than I thought I would. Bronwyn’s obviously been the biggest surprise, and like doesn’t cover it. But Addy’s turned into kind of a badass, and Cooper’s not as one-dimensional as I thought.
And two: I don’t think any of them did it.
Bronwyn
Friday, October 26, 8:00 p.m.
Friday night my entire family settles in to watch Mikhail Powers Investigates. I’m feeling more dread than usual, between bracing myself for Simon’s blog post about Maeve and worrying that something about Nate and me will make it into the broadcast. I never should have kissed him at school. Although in my defense he was unbelievably hot at that particular moment.
Anyway. We’re all nervous. Maeve curls next to me as Mikhail’s theme music plays and photos of Bayview flash across the screen.
A murder investigation turns witch hunt. When police tactics include revealing personal information in the name of evidence collection, have they gone too far?
Wait. What?
The camera zooms in on Mikhail, and he is pissed. I sit up straighter as he stares into the camera and says, “Things in Bayview, California, turned ugly this week when a closeted student involved in the investigation was outed after a round of police questioning, causing a media firestorm that should concern every American who cares about privacy rights.”
And then I remember. Mikhail Powers is gay. He came out when I was in junior high and it was a big deal because it happened after some photos of him kissing a guy circulated online. It wasn’t his choice. And from the way he’s covering the story now, he’s still bitter.
Because suddenly the Bayview Police are the bad guys. They have no evidence, they’ve disrupted our lives, and they’ve violated Cooper’s constitutional rights. They’re on the defensive as a police spokesperson claims they were careful in their questioning and no leaks came from the department. But the ACLU wants to get involved now. And there’s Eli Kleinfelter from Until Proven again, talking about how poorly this case has been handled from the beginning, with the four of us made into scapegoats while nobody even asks who else might’ve wanted Simon Kelleher dead.
“Has everybody forgotten about the teacher?” he asks, leaning forward from behind an overflowing desk. “He’s the only person who was in that room who’s being treated as a witness instead of a suspect, even though he had more opportunity than anyone. That can’t be discounted.”
Maeve leans her head next to mine and whispers, “You should be working for Until Proven, Bronwyn.”
Mikhail switches to the next segment: Will the real Simon Kelleher please stand up? Simon’s class picture flashes across the screen as people reminisce about his good grades and nice family and all the clubs he belonged to. Then Leah Jackson pops up on-screen, standing on Bayview High’s front lawn. I turn to Maeve, eyes wide, and she looks equally shocked.
“She did it,” she murmurs. “She actually did it.”
Leah’s interview is followed by segments with other kids hurt by Simon’s gossip, including Aiden Wu and a girl whose parents kicked her out when news spread about her being pregnant. Maeve’s hand finds mine as Mikhail drops his last bombshell—a screen capture of the 4chan discussion threads, with Simon’s worst posts about the Orange County school shooting highlighted:
Look, I support the notion of violently disrupting schools in theory, but this kid showed a depressing lack of imagination. I mean, it was fine, I guess. It got the job done. But it was so prosaic. Haven’t we seen this a hundred times now? Kid shoots up school, shoots up self, film at eleven. Raise the stakes, for God’s sake. Do something original.
A grenade, maybe. Samurai swords? Surprise me when you take out a bunch of asshole lemmings. That’s all I’m asking.
I think back to Maeve texting away that day Janae got so upset with her at lunch. “So you really did send that to the show?” I whisper.