The Art of Not Breathing(62)

“I wanted to tell you everything, but I couldn’t because I made a pact,” he whispers. “I promised Danny.”

Danny, Dillon, Tay. They all know something, and I’m completely in the dark. I wrench out of Tay’s grip and slide back toward the corner by the loose panel. I can’t bear to be near him, yet I need to hear the truth. I lay Eddie’s T-shirt over my knees and run my fingers across the lion logo. It’s frayed and bobbled from its years spent in the cave under all those stones.

“Just talk,” I say. “Tell me what happened to Eddie.”

Tay’s eyes are pink, from the weed, from the lies.

“It was an accident,” he starts. “I’d only gone down to the beach to get Danny’s bike because he’d left it there earlier in the day.”

“What happened earlier?”

“We followed Uncle Mick down to the Point on our bikes because Danny thought he was up to something. We saw Mick arguing with this woman down by the lighthouse. Then there was all this commotion, people yelling, and Mick and the woman raced to the car and drove off. Danny went crazy about his dad being with someone other than his mom, and kicked his bike to pieces. He had to run home because he was already grounded and wasn’t supposed to be out. I couldn’t carry his bike back while I was riding, so I went back for it later.”

“What was the commotion?”

Tay screws up his face up so tight, I can’t even see where his eyes are.

“I didn’t know anything bad had happened. I swear. I would’ve stayed to help. I thought it was just excitement over the dolphins.”

“You thought that people screaming was excitement over the dolphins? Are you insane?”

“No! It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t close enough to see what was going on.” Tay pauses but I keep quiet, waiting for him to tell me what happened.

“It was dark when I went back,” he continues. “As I was trying to put the chain back on the bike, I saw Danny on the beach. I was pissed off with him for not telling me he was coming, because it was freezing and I would’ve stayed in and finished my computer game if I’d known. I crept up and wrestled him down onto the pebbles. But it wasn’t Danny, just someone who looked like him. It was Dillon. Then he shouted that he could see something in the water. We both waded in up to our waists, and there was definitely something there . . .”

Tay’s voice cracks. I brace myself for what’s coming next. Blood pulses loudly in my ears. I picture Tay and Dillon on the beach. Tay would’ve been twelve, and Dillon thirteen. Two boys who didn’t know each other, alone in the dark, about to . . .

“I didn’t know it was a body,” Tay whispers.

“Stop!” I shout. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

Images flash through my mind of Eddie’s drowned body covered in seaweed and scum, all floppy and gray and blue and swollen. As much as I want the truth, I can’t bear it. I’ll never be ready.

Tay crawls across the floor of the boathouse to me. His eyes look glazed in the dim light. Suddenly he launches himself on top of me.

“I’ve got him,” he says, grabbing my hair.

“You’re hurting me,” I cry. I put my hands on Tay’s to try to ease him off me, but he grips tighter, his eyes still unfocused.

“You’re scaring me, Tay. You need to let go.”

“I’ve got you,” he whimpers, his breath hot in my face. “Just hold on. I’m not letting go this time.”

God—he’s having some kind of out-of-body experience and thinks I’m Eddie. What if he kills me?

“Tay, it’s me, it’s Elsie,” I say calmly. “Let me go and tell me what happened.”

He slides an arm underneath my back and lifts me toward him but then presses our bodies against the wall.

“Please, Tay. Stop. I can’t breathe.”

He turns and shouts to the corner of the boathouse.

“I’ve got him. Help me. No, not the police! They’ll think we did it. They’ll think we killed him.”

“Tay, let me go.”

Tay’s arms go floppy, and I fall back on the floor. I lie still, breathing as lightly as I can, even though my lungs feel as small as peas and I can’t get enough oxygen circulating. Tay stumbles around the boathouse shouting incoherently, running into the walls, as though he were blind.

“Danny, wait,” he cries. “I found your bike.”

The kayak is Tay’s downfall. He trips and lies half on it, cowering and sobbing.

After a minute, I go to him.

“Tay, it’s Elsie,” I say, touching his shoulder lightly. His T-shirt is drenched in sweat, but he feels cold. I expect him to grab me again, but he looks up and asks if he hurt me.

“I’m okay,” I say, rubbing my arm where he held me so tightly.

“His eyes were just like yours. Sea green.”

I let out a sob and sit down next to Tay on the cold concrete floor, leaning back on the kayak.

“My dad was a cop. The police had my fingerprints from the moped incident, and I’d heard stories about people being in prison for things they hadn’t done because the police had found their DNA. I know it sounds stupid, but I believed the stories. I was holding a dead body, and my hands were covered in what I thought was his blood. I was terrified.”