I Was Told It Would Get Easier(74)

“No promises.”

He sighed. “I’ll take the risk.”

I checked there were no other kids in the lobby, and lowered my voice. “I found out about the girls at school, right, the ones who were going to cheat?”

He nodded.

“I knew it was stupid, and I knew they were risking everything, so I told the school.” I shrugged. “That’s really all there is to it.”

He frowned at me. “Liar. Why did the FBI get involved?”

“I’m not lying. It turns out there’s a whole cheating thing, a whole organized conspiracy, and our little part was somehow connected. They wanted to know if I knew anything else.” I suddenly found my lap very interesting. “I didn’t.” I decided not to mention the idea that there was someone on this tour who was involved; we didn’t know if it was true, and talking about it was out of the question, even with Will. There was a long silence. I looked up at him. “You hate snitches.”

He nodded. “Sure, we all do, right?”

“Yes. But this was different. This wasn’t vaping in the bathroom.”

“I see that. But . . . it’s still snitching. You still went to the teachers and got your friends in trouble.”

“Only to save them from getting in even bigger trouble.”

“Why didn’t you tell them not to do it?”

I felt hurt suddenly. “I tried that, for crying out loud. What, you think I overheard them and scuttled off to the principal’s office? They told me about it, asked me what I thought, I told them what I thought, they decided to do it anyway.” I clenched my fists in my lap. “I’m not Alice. I’m not a big shiny star at school. I’m just another kid, and they didn’t listen to me.”

He stood up. “Well, I’m glad everything is okay now.”

Then he walked away.





24





JESSICA


I left Emily in the lobby to reunite with her friends, and headed up to the room. I’m not sure why, but for some reason we were given a suite, and I spent a few minutes marveling at how big the bathtub was. Whenever I’ve stayed in New York before, I’ve always been surprised by how small they can make a hotel room and have it still count as a room and not a closet. But this time they clearly threw caution to the wind.

I called Frances and told her everything. She was pleasingly horrified, impressed with Emily’s bravery, and delighted I’d gotten my nails done.

“About time,” she said. “Your hands remind me of the school nurse, all those years ago. Incredibly clean and sensible.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, in fingernails? I’m not a model, I’m a lawyer. I’m supposed to radiate reliability and competence.”

“Well”—her voice was dry—“you certainly do that.”

Emily walked in. She did not look good. I made a quick goodbye and hung up. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head. “Will thinks I’m a snitch and now we’re not friends anymore.”

She started to cry. “I’m always the good kid, the reliable kid, and sometimes that sucks so badly. I want to be the fun kid.”

I gathered her into a hug, and she let me. “Baby, you are the fun kid.”

“No,” she said, wiping her soggy face on my sleeve, making me glad I hadn’t changed for dinner yet. “I’m the kid who stands by the side and laughs at the fun kid. I’m not even a toady sidekick, I’m just one of the background kids. I don’t get picked first or last, I get picked somewhere in the middle. I’m ordinary. In twenty years when people look at school photos, they’re not going to remember my name. I’m going to be that kid who did school paper, or who won the stupid penmanship thing. I’m going to be nameless.”

She was working herself up. I decided to let her blow off steam.

“And I’ve even ruined my safe spot in the crowd by snitching on my friends, so now I’ll be remembered as the girl who snitched. Th . . . this is going to be my defining high school moment.” She was starting to hyperventilate a little.

“No,” I said, “you’re going to be the girl who was questioned by the FBI. That’s much more fun.”

No dice. No laughter setting available. Emily shook her head, sniffed, and stepped back. “No, I told Will the truth and he called me a snitch and walked away.”

I watched her turn away, and asked, “Will he tell everyone?”

“No,” she said, wise with experience. “But eventually everyone will know, because that’s how information works. It leaks to one person, then trickles along to another, then everyone knows.” She sat on the desk chair, looking around for the first time. “Why do we have such a big room?”

“Baby, the people who know you will understand . . .”

She was annoyed suddenly, smacking her palm on the desk, deciding anger was more comfortable than sorrow. “Mom, it’s not about the people that know me. It’s about everyone else, don’t you get it?”

“Well, I . . .”

“And what do you know about it, anyway? You barely pay any attention to my life. The only reason you know about this is because the freaking authorities got involved.”