People Like Us(19)
“I’m going to try to study before bed.”
“Okay.” She stands and gives me a hug. “Don’t let this get in your head, Kay.”
I read over my old texts from Spencer as I struggle to fall asleep. I wish I didn’t sound so much like Greg and he didn’t sound so much like Jessica. I think about texting Spencer to tell him what I found out, that Greg may be suspected of killing the girl he cheated on me with, that it’s definitely beyond over between us, but that would be pointless. Every time I text him to say it’s over, we end up getting back together.
Instead, I end up playing the one saved voice mail I have from him on repeat until I fall asleep. It’s a birthday message from over the summer. It’s fifteen seconds long. I’m embarrassed for clinging to it just to hear the sound of his voice. But I keep hitting replay until I drift off into darkness.
* * *
? ? ?
I SKIP BREAKFAST the next day in favor of an extra-long morning run to clear my head. After a brisk shower, I meet the others outside the dining hall to walk to chapel together. It’s a crisp morning, and the sky is shockingly blue. It always feels jarring when there’s a funeral or a memorial on a beautiful day. I link arms with Brie as we walk across the courtyard with the rest of the student body, an army of teenage girls dressed in proper black dresses with respectful hair and makeup. Since it’s a memorial, we’ve been instructed to ditch our uniforms. Most of my peers probably haven’t dealt much with tragedy at this point in their lives, but all of us have trained in formality. It’s our way.
Tai isn’t there, but as of this morning, her name is still on the class roster, and the oven timer on the revenge website is ticking down.
No one says a word to me until I finally turn to the others. “Can we talk about Tai?”
Tricia spits out the gum she’s perpetually chewing. “Are you goddamn serious?” She looks, as usual, model gorgeous, with her hair swept up from her swanlike neck, her long lashes framing her usually warm deep-brown eyes. Right now they look cold as ice.
Brie waves solemnly at some of the track team members and then turns back to us. “Tai was exaggerating. Kay never attacked her.”
“We had a fight; it’s over.”
Cori balances on one foot as she pulls a sagging knee sock up her freckled calf. “I can’t believe you’re defending yourself. I heard she’s leaving. For good.”
I try not to react visibly. “Did she tell you that? When is she going?”
“No, she didn’t tell me. She’s on a total communication blackout. I know things.”
Brie shoots me a look. That means the info came straight from Klein’s office to Cori’s parents. This whole thing went down lightning fast.
“Don’t blame Kay,” Maddy says quietly. “Tai doesn’t back down. She would never drop out of school unless she had done something wrong.” By now we have all stopped dead in the middle of the path, and everyone is staring at me. I wave them aside under a leafless willow tree to allow others to pass. Tricia hesitates at the edge of the path, gazing down at her Christian Louboutins. Then she takes them off and runs barefoot over the cold grass, scowling.
“You’re hiding something.” Cori twists a winding branch around her arm until it snaps. Her usually rosy cheeks look drained of blood. “Why won’t you tell us what really happened?”
“Yeah, Kay. No secrets,” Tricia says.
Brie places a hand on each of their arms. “It isn’t Kay’s secret to tell. It’s Tai’s.”
Tricia’s eyes well up for a moment, and then it evaporates. “She’s my best friend. If she’d really done something wrong, she would have told me.”
I look at each of them in turn. “Are you saying I made something up to screw her over?”
No one says anything for a moment.
“Tai will be fine,” Brie says firmly. “We’ll all be fine. We don’t even know she’s leaving.”
“Then where is she?” Tricia is hugging her arms tightly to her chest, her shoulders squared and rigid. She looks like she’s about to fall apart. I want to comfort her, but I’m the one who did this.
The chapel bell begins to ring, signaling the beginning of service. “I don’t know,” I say wearily. “I can’t say any more. I’m so sorry.”
“Come on, girls.” Tricia links arms with Maddy and Cori, turning away from me. “Time to honor the fallen.”
* * *
? ? ?
EVERY PEW IN the tiny chapel is packed with students and additional members of the community, and people crowd into every corner. Jessica’s family sits in the front row. They look like the prototypical Bates family, despite the fact that she was here on scholarship. Her mother is tall with broad shoulders and sharp features. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, but she doesn’t cry during the service. Her father is stoic, his jaw clenched, posture hunched, and his fingers woven together, rough boating knots. There is a younger sister, not yet old enough for Bates, and an older brother, handsome, broken, his arm protectively slung around his sister’s shoulder. There won’t be a funeral here—that will be private and after the body has been examined—but there is a large framed picture of Jessica surrounded by cascades of lilies.