Famous in a Small Town(65)

It was quiet, until I looked over at Heather. “She said she’d text you her publicist’s info, so we can arrange the fall festival stuff.”

Heather nodded. “I’ll let you know if I hear from her.”



* * *



What Heather didn’t tell us then, and August told me later, was that Megan had brought Heather a huge check. Bigger than last time. She offered her the land as well, the house if she wanted it.

“What would I want with that house?” Heather had told August and Kyle. “We’d have to fix the August-shaped hole in the floor.”

She didn’t rip up the check, though. She put it in one of the kitchen cabinets. August said he could hear footsteps going in and out of the kitchen all night.





fifty-five


“I think she probably won’t come back,” I said on one of our drives after work, Dash behind the wheel. We had demolished some sandwiches from the deli section. I had half a bottle of soda left, but I was more preoccupied with twisting and untwisting the cap than I was with drinking. “Megan. I think she’s probably not going to do the show.”

I had checked in with Heather a few times, but she hadn’t heard anything from Megan. She didn’t seem too surprised.

“I really thought I could do it.” I fumbled with the cap. “Maybe that’s my problem.”

“What?”

“That I think I can make something happen just by wanting it enough. Objectively, it’s like … pretty stupid and naive.” August didn’t want his mom to go to prison but that didn’t keep it from happening. Brit wanted to beat Tanner Barnes but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Maybe,” Dash said. “But it’s also kind of good, don’t you think?”

“Why?”

“It’s probably better than thinking that nothing you feel or do can ever make a difference, right? I’d rather believe in something.”

“I guess.”

It was quiet for a bit, until: “That’s why I didn’t tell Brit,” Dash said.

“Tell her what?”

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “That whole thing with Tanner.”

He didn’t go on, but I knew he would, so I didn’t prompt him.

“Luke wasn’t drugged,” Dash said eventually. “It wasn’t something done to him. He took that shit on purpose, with Tanner and the rest of them.”

“How do you know?” I straightened up in my seat, looked over at Dash even though I knew he wouldn’t take his eyes off the road to look back. “The other guys on the team—they would lie. They’d make stuff up to make sure they don’t get in trouble.”

“He told me. Once, at their house, when I went to drop Brit off. Got her settled in, and he was there in the living room. He was drunk. Don’t think he would’ve told me otherwise.” A pause. “We shouldn’t tell her, I figured. Probably best to let him tell her. Or to let her believe what she believes. Maybe it’s better that way, sometimes.”

I nodded.





fifty-six


Mrs. Benson from the booster club came through my line at Safeway a few days later. The booster club was set to meet the week before school started, to review the summer’s efforts and get a start on fall’s fundraising agenda.

“Do you think we’re still really far off from our target?” I said, ringing up her four, five, six boxes of instant oatmeal.

“Mm.” Mrs. Benson fussed with her wallet, looking for her card. “We’ll be okay.” She located it, stuck it in the reader. “We actually—well, I probably should keep it under wraps, but you’re head of the student group, so you get the inside scoop.” She leaned in, eyes shining. “We got an anonymous donor who agreed to cover whatever we can’t raise ourselves by the end of November.”

My heart leaped. “So we’ll be funded no matter what?”

She smiled. “You got it.”



* * *



“Who knew?” Brit said after work. We were sitting around Flora’s backyard with August. “Your Megan Pleasant scheme actually worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s never going to come back here, but this way, she did her part for her town and can feel good about herself.” Brit looked over. “I mean, obviously. Who else can give money like that?”

I glanced at August.



* * *



“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Heather said when we asked.

August shook his head. “I know you said you don’t care about the money but you shouldn’t do this, you should save it for Cady and Harper—”

“It’s too much,” I added.

“Megan did hear about the fall festival thing, you know,” Heather said. “She told me her publicist or someone forwarded her a message about it. From a girl in Acadia, who wanted to get Megan’s attention for her friend. Said it reminded her of us, way back when.”

“It wasn’t Megan who donated, though,” I said.

She shrugged. “Maybe. You said it was anonymous.”

“Heather.”