People Like Us(50)

“I obstructed a police investigation,” I said dizzily, nestling my head into his lap. It felt so good to say, and I was so sure I would never ever see this boy again. It was the perfect confession. He was warm and fun and irresistible, and it was so easy to talk to him. Tomorrow I would go back to Brie and she would have forgotten about that bitch she was ignoring me for. Brie would never go for a theater girl. Too much drama.

“I framed my father for grand theft auto.”

I opened my eyes and gazed up at him, his face gently rotating with the rest of the room. “That’s impressive.”

“He was a shithead. He put my brother in the hospital and forced my mom to run to a shelter twice. So I stole a car and made it look like he did it. We’re all much better off.” He sucked in a lungful of air and puffed it out. “That feels really good to say. I’ve never said that out loud. Do you want to go to IHOP?”

“I don’t think we can drive. Also, don’t steal any more cars.”

He grinned. “I got his car when he went to prison.” He started laughing. He had a perfect smile, more perfect when an edge of darkness crept into his eyes. “It sucks in a way because he definitely loves me, and I’m, like, the only one he didn’t beat, so, like. Fuck him.”

I climbed up onto my knees with the world spinning and leaned against his chest. “Everything about me is a lie and I’m terrified everyone will find out.”

“They won’t,” he said simply, looking deep into my eyes. “Don’t tell them and they won’t. I got your back, Katie.”

And then I whispered the last challenge of the game. “I never killed a person.”

We both drank at the same time.

“You first,” he said.

I closed my eyes. “When I was a kid, I was really close to my older brother. He would hang out with me and my best friend all the time, reading comic books, playing video games, all the nerdy stuff his cool friends weren’t into. Then the summer after seventh grade they started flirting and it got weird and eventually they started hanging out without me. So, school starts again, and Megan suddenly texts me that she wants me to hang out again, and when I get to her house, I’m still just hurt and pissed at both of them and I’m all ready for this huge blowout fight, but instead, she pulls me into her room and locks the door. I see she’s been crying for a long time. And she tells me that she had texted Todd photos of herself naked. Like, a lot of them, throughout the summer. And that day, apparently, they broke up and he sent them around to everyone at the entire school.”

“Shit,” Spencer said.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His glass was raised to his lips, but it was empty. I took it from him and pressed it to my hot forehead. “I didn’t know what to say. She’d ignored me all summer and I had more or less refused to speak to Todd in all that time. But it seemed so unlikely that he could have done that deliberately. I knew him so well . . . forever. She was looking at me like the next thing out of my mouth would either fix everything or destroy everyone’s life. It was like Romeo and Juliet or something. Like, why was I chosen as the fatal messenger? I wasn’t included in Acts One through Four.”

I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. It was that or cry, and I had worked very hard up until that point not to let tears win. The glass slid onto the bed and Spencer picked it up and set it on the counter.

“Game over.” Spencer helped me sit up. “You didn’t kill anyone.”

“I did. They both died. I told Megan I thought it was probably a mistake, and she screamed at me to leave and never spoke to me again. Then when I asked Todd what happened, he told me someone stole his phone that day and must have sent the pictures out. I believed it. But no one was with him at the time, so I lied to the police and said I was. It made sense at the time. But those pictures just kept getting posted on websites and people commented and said the worst things about Megan. I wanted to call, but I was afraid. And then one day school was canceled. And we found out she killed herself.”

“God, Katie. You don’t need to tell me all of this.”

“I want to. And you can never ever mention it again. To anyone else, or to me.”

“Okay.” He folded his hands in front of his crossed knees, almost prayerlike.

“So. I never killed someone.” I took the empty glass off the table and drank a sip of air.

“Do you . . . ,” he began hesitantly. “Do you still think your brother was telling the truth?”

I shrugged. “Too late to ask him now. Megan’s brother murdered him after she killed herself.”

“But what do you think?”

I look him in the eye. “I don’t think I’d blame myself if I was one hundred percent sure he was innocent. Do you?”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, taking my hand. “You believed him at the time. You can’t go back and change things based on what you know now.”

“Oh yeah? Who did you kill?”

“I didn’t. I was just finishing my drink.”



* * *



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I LOOK AROUND Nola’s room for the clothes I was wearing last night and note with regret that they are still lying soaking wet exactly where I stripped them off. I look down at myself. I can’t make a walk of shame across campus to my dorm wearing this ridiculous ensemble. Not in this weather. The wind is keening relentlessly outside, and I’m genuinely worried that if I don’t take care of myself, I could get pneumonia. I’m helpless. And that’s my least favorite feeling in the world.