What We Saw(29)

Lindsey pecks me on the cheek. “We’re gonna have so much fun this weekend. Your dress is gorg.”

Christy holds up a fist for me to bump, then she and Lindsey head for their cars. Rachel hangs back, staring at the satellite trucks. The bright lights are switched off now, downtime until the six o’clock report. A couple of guys from different crews lean against the grill of the Channel Thirteen van, smoking. Their laughter floats over our heads into the trees, and I remember Stacey’s hawk. I look up, but we’re too close to the edge of the lot, and I can’t see the nest from this angle.

“How long do you think they’ll hang out here?” Rachel asks.

Ben follows her gaze. “At least until this blows over.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

Both of them turn to look at me. I realize I let these words slip out instead of just thinking them.

Ben stares back at the vans. “Dooney’s dad’ll make it go away.”


He says this with a certainty I find reassuring and chilling at the same time. As much as I wish none of this were happening, there is a nagging thrum in my head, the drone of a distant housefly buzzing behind the windows of my eyes. It lies still for a few minutes, then whips into a frenzy at moments like this.

What if it’s all true?

What if this doesn’t go away because it happened?

What if it goes away even though it did happen?

Rachel glances up at me, then gives voice to my thoughts. “The police came,” she says quietly. “They put people in handcuffs.”

“That’s what police do,” says Ben.

“Not usually,” I blurt out. The pressure created by my silence in the thrift store has reached critical mass. I have to speak or my chest might blow open—all my layers exposed in a bloody mess right here, sprayed across the parking lot.

Is that concern I see in Ben’s eyes, or confusion? I can’t explain it. Maybe I’m as wound up from the weirdness of this day as everyone else, but I press on in spite of how much I want to talk about something else. Anything else.

“I was really wasted Saturday night, too.”

“So?” Rachel asks. “You’re not like Stacey, Kate. We are nothing like her.”

“But we are like her. We go to this school. We’re in the same classes. We’re the same age. I was just as drunk as she was—”

“No.” Rachel looks pale and starts shaking her head. “No, you weren’t. She was practically passed out in those trashy clothes.”

Ben has gone so silent that I have to glance over to make sure he’s still standing there. Rachel’s eyes are usually bright and sharp, but right now they seem wild with fear. I want to tell her it’s going to be okay, but the compass inside me is pointing in the opposite direction.

“I just can’t shake it—” I begin. There’s more to say, but the next words get stuck in my throat.

“Can’t shake what?” Ben asks.

I take a deep breath. “The idea that this isn’t a rumor. That maybe something really bad happened.”

“Nah,” says Ben. He pulls me in, an arm around my waist—an it’s all right in his sideways embrace. “It’s all blown out of proportion. There’s just that pic on Instagram. Makes it look worse than it is.”

“Police don’t haul teenagers into jail over one picture,” I say.

Ben frowns—not in an angry way. Maybe it’s thoughtful? “What do you mean?”

“There must be something more we don’t know about. The police don’t just go around arresting people if there’s not some sort of truth to the story. They have to get a warrant.”

Ben smiles and shakes his head. “Not sure if Stacey Stallard is the first person I’d turn to if you’re looking for the whole truth and nothing but. Especially if we’re talking about that party.”

“Stop. Both of you. None of us know what really happened.” When Rachel says this it sounds to me like she’s trying to reassure herself, not us. “None of us were actually there.”

Ben smiles at me. “I’m sorta glad you got messed up early so we didn’t get tangled in any of this. Sounds to me like Stacey just did something she regretted in the morning.”

“Yeah,” says Rachel, nodding emphatically. “That’s gotta be it.”

I want to ask how they can be so sure. I want to say that I doubt Stacey is a good-enough actress to pull one over on the police. Instead, I smile at Rachel and squeeze her shoulder. “See you tomorrow?”

She nods, but she doesn’t smile, and as she walks to her car, Will starts honking at me from my truck. He’s sitting behind the wheel with the windows rolled down. Tyler has the crappy stereo booming a baseline.

That fairy tale ending with a knight in shining armor

She can be my sleeping beauty, I’m gon’ put her in a coma . . .

“Gotta go,” I say. “The natives are restless.”

Ben laughs and pulls me closer for a kiss. The tenderness of his lips against mine finally silences the questions rocketing around my brain. I relax into his arms. After a minute, he rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Better?”

I nod. “Just confused, I guess.”

“About me?”

“About everything but you, Mr. Cody.”