One of Us is Lying(9)
I exhale, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thanks!” I say, and pick up the folder. It’s the last one I’ve been waiting for. Yale’s a family tradition—my grandfather was a visiting scholar there and moved his whole family from Colombia to New Haven when he got tenure. All his kids, including my dad, went to undergrad there, and it’s where my parents met. They always say our family wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Yale.
“You’re very welcome.” Mr. O’Farrell leans back and adjusts his glasses. “Were your ears burning earlier? Mr. Camino stopped by to ask if you’d be interested in tutoring for chemistry this semester. A bunch of bright juniors are struggling the way you did last year. They’d love to learn strategies from someone who ended up acing the course.”
I have to swallow a couple of times before I can answer. “I would,” I say, as brightly as I can manage, “but I might be overcommitted already.” My smile stretches too tightly over my teeth.
“No worries. You have a lot on your plate.”
Chemistry was the only class I’d ever struggled with, so much so that I had a D average at midterm. With every quiz I bombed, I could feel the Ivy League slipping out of reach. Even Mr. O’Farrell started gently suggesting that any top-tier school would do.
So I brought my grades up, and got an A by the end of the year. But I’m pretty sure nobody wants me sharing my strategies with the other students.
Cooper
Thursday, September 27, 12:45 p.m.
“Will I see you tonight?”
Keely takes my hand as we walk to our lockers after lunch, looking up at me with huge dark eyes. Her mom is Swedish and her dad’s Filipino, and the combination makes Keely the most beautiful girl in school by a lot. I haven’t seen her much this week between baseball and family stuff, and I can tell she’s getting antsy. Keely’s not a clinger, exactly, but she needs regular couple time.
“Not sure,” I say. “I’m pretty behind on homework.”
Her perfect lips curve down and I can tell she’s about to protest when a voice floats over the loudspeaker. “Attention, please. Would Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas please report to the main office. Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas to the main office.”
Keely looks around like she’s expecting an explanation. “What’s that about? Something to do with Simon?”
“I guess.” I shrug. I already answered questions from Principal Gupta a couple of days ago about what happened during detention, but maybe she’s gearing up for another round. My father says Simon’s parents are pretty connected around town, and the school should be worried about a lawsuit if it turns out they were negligent in any way. “Better go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I give Keely a quick kiss on the cheek, shoulder my backpack, and head down the hall.
When I get to the principal’s office, the receptionist points me toward a small conference room that’s already crowded with people: Principal Gupta, Addy, Bronwyn, Nate, and a police officer. My throat gets a little dry as I take the last empty chair.
“Cooper, good. Now we can get started.” Principal Gupta folds her hands in front of her and looks around the table. “I’d like to introduce Officer Hank Budapest with the Bayview Police Department. He has some questions about what you witnessed on Monday.”
Officer Budapest shakes each of our hands in turn. He’s young but already balding, with sandy hair and freckles. Not very intimidating, authority-wise. “Nice to meet you all. This shouldn’t take long, but after speaking with the Kelleher family we want to take a closer look at Simon’s death. Autopsy results came back this morning, and—”
“Already?” Bronwyn interrupts, earning a look from Principal Gupta that she doesn’t notice. “Don’t those usually take longer?”
“Preliminary results can be available within a couple days,” Officer Budapest says. “These were fairly conclusive, showing that Simon died from a large dose of peanut oil ingested shortly before death. Which his parents found strange, considering how careful he always was with his food and drink. All of you told Principal Gupta that Simon drank a cup of water just before he collapsed, is that right?”
We all nod, and Officer Budapest continues, “The cup contained traces of peanut oil, so it seems clear Simon died from that drink. What we’re trying to figure out now is how peanut oil could have gotten into his cup.”
Nobody speaks. Addy meets my eyes and then cuts hers away, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Does anyone remember where Simon got the cup from?” Officer Budapest prompts, poising his pen over a blank notebook in front of him.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” Bronwyn says. “I was writing my assignment.”
“Me too,” Addy says, although I could’ve sworn she hadn’t even started. Nate stretches and stares at the ceiling.
“I remember,” I volunteer. “He got the cup from a stack next to the sink.”
“Was the stack upside down, or right-side up?”
“Upside down,” I say. “Simon pulled the top one off.”
“Did you notice any liquid leave the cup when he did that? Did he shake it?”
I think back. “No. He just filled it with water.”