The Cheerleaders(60)

I close my eyes. I’m back in Jen’s room, peering out the window over the garage, trying to get a glimpse of her and Juliana, three houses down, sunning by Susan’s pool. Anyone on the garage roof would have had a perfect view of the back deck.

“What color was her room?” I ask.

Ethan blinks at me. “What?”

“Jen’s room. So I know you were really in there.”

Ethan’s knee stops jiggling. He looks out over the lake. “I don’t remember the color on the walls. Her bedspread was light pink and puckered or pleated or whatever you call it. And she had pictures of her friends everywhere.”

When I shut my eyes again, I can see it all. I remember the feel of that bedspread beneath my knees as I climbed behind my sister and braided her hair for Juliana’s wake. Ethan’s voice draws me back.

“So now you know why I fudged my statement a bit,” he says. “If your stepdad found out I was on the roof outside Jen’s room that night, I wouldn’t have lived long enough to tell the cops anything, because Tom would have ordered my execution.”

“Yeah, but your statement was useless,” I say. “The police knew it was impossible for you to have seen anything from the woods behind the Berrys’ house. You may as well have not told them anything.”

“At the time, lying felt like a better option than doing nothing.”

When I don’t respond, Ethan sighs. “I planned on telling you what really happened at the coffee shop. But when I saw you, I chickened out. I’ve never talked to anyone about Jen before.”

I think of the note in Jen’s handwriting. I’m not okay. Sadness needles me. I don’t want to go to the place where I imagine what would have happened if Ethan had told someone about that note right away. “Why wouldn’t you talk about her?”

“Who would believe me? Who would honestly believe that someone like Jen Rayburn and me—” Ethan closes his mouth. Rests a hand on his knee, his leg jiggling again. Jonesing for a cigarette, I realize. Tom did the same thing when he quit ten years ago.

My throat feels tight. “Someone like Jen and you what?”

Ethan shrugs. “I don’t know. She was gone before I could find out.”

All the way on the other side of the lake, I see the outline of a school bus wind around Osprey Road. I check my phone; it’s ten to seven. I need to leave in a few minutes or I’ll be late, but I want to keep sitting here, talking about my sister. I came here to find out why Ethan lied about what he saw that night, and now that I know he didn’t, I’m right back where I started. Sifting through dozens of pieces that might not even belong to the same puzzle—the murders.

Ethan watches me. “What are you thinking?”

My thoughts are racing too quickly for me to fashion them into words. Ethan saw Juliana Ruiz arguing with the person who killed her, who may or may not have been the owner of the pickup truck Mr. Brenner saw. A mystery guy whose name never came up in the investigation—most likely because no one ever had a reason to suspect him. He could be anyone.

“Juliana Ruiz was on your list,” I finally say.

Pink blooms in Ethan’s cheeks. “Are we back here again? You think I killed them?”

“No, I don’t, or I wouldn’t be anywhere near you. But it sounds like Juliana was the real target that night, so I’m just trying to understand why someone would want to kill her.”

“I don’t know,” Ethan says. “She was really popular. Everyone liked her.”

“Everyone except you.”

“I didn’t dislike her. I don’t think Juliana ever said one word to me,” Ethan says. “I can’t tell you why I put her on the list. I can’t even tell you why I made that stupid list except for the fact that a bunch of cheerleaders and football players humiliated me one day and I made a mistake.”

Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cigarette lighter. He flicks it, but doesn’t motion to dig out a cigarette or whatever he smokes. After a beat, he says, “Juliana seemed cool. It always looked like Jen preferred her to Susan.”

“Did Jen ever say anything to you about them? Apparently Jen and Susan were fighting and it made things weird with Juliana and Jen.”

Ethan sticks his lighter back in his pocket. “Jen didn’t say anything specific. Just that she felt like she was losing her friends.”

“Do you know who Juliana hung out with other than Jen and Susan?”

“I always saw her with the other cheerleaders. Even the older ones. I had gym at the same time as her, and she was always attached to this weird senior.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. She was ditzy but always trying to seem tough. She was new.”

“Carly Amato,” I say.

“Yeah. That’s her. You know her?”

“I talked to her a couple weeks ago,” I say. “She told me she barely knew Juliana.”

Ethan flicks his lighter again, eyes watching the flame dance in the breeze settling over us. “Well, that’s bullshit. The two of them were always together.”

I’m speechless. Ethan stares at me. “Does that change things?”

“It complicates things.” My head is swirling. I want to explain, but I’m really going to be late to school. “I’ve got to go.”