Real Bad Things(92)

“Give him—and me—a little credit, okay? I didn’t persuade him or force him or manipulate him. We’re both capable of making our own decisions.”

“You’re both idiots for confessing. We don’t even know if they would’ve come for me.” The same thing they’d said to her. Jane’s head pounded, and her whole body urged her to expel a scream. Georgia Lee sat patiently, waiting for her to finish talking. “Why would you throw away your life if I already confessed? You have so much to live for—”

“And you don’t?” Georgia Lee breathed out heavily, as if her burdens had been released and were actually physical things that had weighted her down. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner. I have no excuse. I was a stupid, stupid girl. I wanted this off my conscience. I was responsible. That’s why I confessed. That’s the only reason.”

Jane stared at the cracked paint on the wall and tried to catch her breath. She was too angry with them both and worried all that anger would trip off her tongue and end in regret.

“Okay,” Jane finally said. “I just thought maybe you could shed some light on why, is all.” She looked to the floor. “You were with them both. Before they released Diane.”

On bail. Someone had posted fucking bail. For the aggrieved widow and mother. Lots of people had mentioned that they would have done more than slash Jane. They said she got off lucky. She hadn’t left her motel room except to meet Georgia Lee for her release. Benjamin wasn’t all bad. He did keep her updated on that at least.

But she felt unmoored not knowing where Jason was or what he was thinking. She wanted the opportunity to bang on his chest and ask What the fuck?! in elevated tones. Jane wandered to the window to stare at something that didn’t make her feel complicated feelings.

“Why haven’t they arrested Diane for Keith’s murder yet?” she asked. Benjamin hadn’t been forthcoming on that. “I gave them the photo. I was right about that.”

“But there’s no evidence she did anything,” Georgia Lee said behind her. “He could’ve disappeared without her help.”

Jane turned to Georgia Lee. “Is that what Benjamin said?”

“John. The police chief.”

Jane returned to staring out the window. “I’ve never met a police department less interested in solving crimes.” She’d left the station with hope. But nothing had happened since.

“Maybe John’s right. Maybe it’s all a coincidence and there’s nothing more to it.”

Jane couldn’t concede that. Diane knew something. And Jason too. The thought ate at her. Every waking minute, she burrowed into what she remembered, what she thought she remembered, what may have happened, and what Jason knew.

“I just thought . . . I just wish I knew why Jason never told me she helped him clean up. If maybe she threatened him too.” Georgia Lee didn’t express confusion at what Jane said or ask for details. Maybe she knew. Maybe Jason had told her. Jane swiped at her eyes even though no tears fell. She felt shriveled from releasing them throughout the week, the comedown of what had happened, how Diane had attacked her, Jason’s continued silence. “Everything’s fucked up.”

“I’m sorry,” Georgia Lee said. Anguish broke through her facade. “That’s my fault.”

Jane choked up at the sight of Georgia Lee’s pain. She’d been so angry at her. “No, it was fucked up long before you ever arrived.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you. I really am. And I’m sorry I lied.”

“It’s okay,” Jane said. She couldn’t stay mad forever. Georgia Lee had done a stupid thing in youth. All of them had.

Jane scrubbed her palms along her face and then dug around in a bag and pulled out a bottle of red wine. She sat at the table and held the bottle out to Georgia Lee as a question. Georgia Lee hesitated but then nodded.

Georgia Lee took a long swallow and gagged. “That’s terrible.”

“I know. I stole it from the front office,” Jane said.

Georgia Lee smiled at the recollection. After another stint in the principal’s office for fighting with another girl, Jane had emerged with a bottle of whiskey she’d stolen from his drawer when he wasn’t looking. The only other person wandering the school hallway was Georgia Lee.

“Wanna go for a joyride?” Jane had held up the bottle and given it a little shake. They’d only spoken in the parking lot a week before. But Jane had watched her from the back row of fifth period, and in the hallways. There was something about Georgia Lee.

To Jane’s surprise, Georgia Lee said yes. They found a spot out near the lock and dam to sip and talk. After, back at Jane’s trailer, the night closing in, they sat awkwardly in the car with the windows down. Spring had blossomed hot after a long bout of cold, biting rain. The fresh air felt good on Jane’s skin because she burned with what she guessed was desire. But that seemed like such an adult thing to think.

Jane got that feeling where she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to lean in and make a move.

“We should do this again,” Georgia Lee had said, all polite and professional but with a slight shake in her voice. Jane had smiled, thinking, What a surprise. Her senior year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

They’d been so innocent then. So young. And new. Here they were once again.