All the Rage(33)

Sheriff Turner returns to his seat and Diaz goes back to the podium. “This is a time to respect your fellow classmates and the people who know and love Penny Young. When we have more information, you will have it. In lieu of your first-period classes, we are going to take this opportunity to process the news as a school community, together.”

No one makes a sound until Diaz returns to her seat and Emerson and Turner lean in, murmuring quietly to each other and then the whole room comes alive and I can’t take it all in as fast as it’s happening. Our beautiful blonde. They cry for her and twist their hands in a way they never would for me. This is what happens when a girl befalls a fate no one thinks she deserves.





prewitt stands before us on the dusty track, her clipboard tucked under her arm.

“I know it’s hard, but you have to keep your head in it. It’s about focus. That’s how people get found.” She clears her throat. “Today, I want you to be faster. Better than you’ve ever been. Beat your personal best and tell Penny all about it when she comes back.”

I think that’s pretty stupid, but maybe it would be worse if she hadn’t said it at all. We get in position and the short, sharp sound of her whistle starts us off. We run in silence, no one even attempting to pant out a conversation. I can’t keep my head quiet, though. My thoughts are a snake eating its own tail. Penny, the lake. Penny. I’m so mad at her. I’m mad at her for being at Swan’s, for making me go to the lake and I swear—it makes me faster. It makes me fastest.

Come back, Penny. Let me tell you all about it.

In the locker room, I peel out of my shirt and my shorts, I feel watched and when I turn, Tina’s leaning against her locker, staring. She’s half-undressed, her face shiny with sweat.

“You plan it like this?” she asks.

“What?”

“Penny going missing same night you get f*cking sloppy at the lake,” she says. “Because if she was here, that’s what we’d be talking about right now.”

“Never known anything to keep you from running your goddamn mouth before.”

“You know how wasted you were?” she asks. “It was the best impersonation of your dad I’ve ever seen.” Her gaze wanders to my chest. “Nice bra, by the way.”

I cross my arms but I don’t say anything. I don’t know if she’s talking about the bra I’m wearing now—or the one I was wearing then.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pushes off the locker. The other girls undress around us carefully. Don’t want so much as a rustle of clothes to get in the way of what they’re hearing.

“Know what Brock told me?”

“I can only guess.”

“Grey leaves the party.” Tina says this to Yumi, to everyone. “You saw how f*cked up she was. She leaves and she wanders almost all the way to Godwit. Her mom reports her missing. Leanne Howard picked her up off the road next morning. Had half the department out looking for her. Half.”

I glance in the direction of the showers and realize only after I’ve done it that I expect Penny to break this up, to wander out—I was here the whole time!—and tell us to shut up or something because as rarely as she defended me, it’s not like she was always in the mood for Tina’s bullshit, either. I ache and I can’t even pretend I don’t know why.

I miss the unwelcome feeling of Penny in my life.

“She gets drunk, she goes driving. She gets drunk, can’t drive, she walks. Don’t forget—she lies too. All the time. The girl who cries rape and half the department was out looking for her on Saturday morning. They brought Grey home. Not Penny.”

I turn back to my locker and grab my clothes. I’m not staying here for this. I step through my shorts and button them up.

Tina’s not done, though, no.

“Better hope that wasn’t the half that would’ve made the difference,” she says.

And it’s in their heads now, that I took something from the search for Penny. I feel the beginnings of a whole new level of hate stirring in them. I pull my shirt on and try to make my mind blank while the room turns to vicious whispers.

“Why,” I hear a girl say, “her?”

*

when i get home, I go to my room, sit at my desk, and open my laptop.

Sheriff Turner’s words followed me all day, made me feel stupid. If you saw or heard something online, on social media the night of the party or since … I deleted all my accounts a year ago, but I should’ve thought of this, that if it was bad—if I was as bad as Tina says I was—there’s going to be something of myself, of my night, in the last place I want to see it.

I open a browser and stall for the longest time, chewing on my lip.

I need this part over with.

So get it over with.

I know which sites to go to, where everyone in my high school is, because I used to be in all those places with them. I could start out by searching for a girl with my name, but I’m not ready to be that specific. I type in a hashtag, #WakeLake, instead. I get nothing. Of course they wouldn’t be that obvious, but they needed something, something that would have tied them together online, so none of them missed a single moment of the party they were all at.

I find it.

#WakeUp

I click it and a story unfolds via status updates.