The Secrets We Keep(62)

Molly shook her head, a look of complete disbelief clouding her expression. “I don’t get it. You, I mean Maddy, talked to me at the party before she left, told me she’d pick me up early the next day so we could go check out Lincoln High’s sweeper, that she was one of the best in the state and if we could figure out her weakness, then we’d have the upper hand.”

“She still is,” I said. I knew exactly what girl Molly was referring to. Maddy had idolized her, talked about her constantly during field hockey season, how she wished she had half that girl’s skills. “Except now she plays for Boston College, not Lincoln High.”

Somehow what I was saying finally clicked and she stood up, her chair falling to the floor behind her as she leaned across the table so her face was mere inches from mine. “Who else knew?” Her voice came out in a shudder, like the words were stuck there and had to be shaken free. “Who else knew that she drugged me?”

I saw Alex make a move toward me, Jenna dropping into the chair behind him. Alex had nothing to be afraid of. He’d had no part in this. In fact, he’d tried to talk my sister out of it for days. And as for Jenna, she still wasn’t worth the effort.

“Nobody,” I said, and I swear I heard a collective sigh of relief. “No one else knew. But I’m sorry. My sister was, too, and I wanted you to know that.”

Molly fell forward onto the table, her hands bracing herself at either side of her head as she fought to fully understand the weight of what I’d unloaded on her.

“Here,” I said as I dropped the letter to the table. I’d written it last night in front of Josh’s house. It explained what my sister had done to Molly and why. I went so far as to say it was Maddy and Maddy alone who had concocted the crazy plan. Not for Jenna’s sake—God knows I didn’t care about her—but for Alex’s. Jenna would surely try to implicate him. I didn’t want to destroy his chances at playing college soccer like Maddy had destroyed Molly’s chances of playing college field hockey.

I’d signed my sister’s name to the confession, then dated it the day before the accident. I understood the pain and guilt Maddy had been carrying around, her desire to tell the truth, and the fear that came along with that. This was my way of giving her the forgiveness and the sense of peace I was still struggling to find, of letting her apologize to Molly the way I knew she’d wanted to … like she had planned to. Plus, I hoped Molly could use it to get into college, maybe explain to the scouts why they needed to take a second look at her.

“I don’t know if it will help, but it’s spelled out there for everybody to see. What Maddy did to you was unforgivable, and I think she knew that. I think that was what she was trying to tell you that night at the party.” The last night any of us saw her alive, I silently added. “But I am sorry for lying to you, for lying to everybody.”

I turned and walked through the doors, intent on making it out of the cafeteria and out of the school before I lost the courage to come clean to my parents.

I wasn’t more than a few steps out the door when the cafeteria erupted into chaos, everybody talking and reaching for their phones. In less than a few seconds, everything I had said would be broadcast to the world, uploaded and texted to everybody … including my parents.





40

There was a note tacked to the refrigerator. The handwriting was small and shaky, but I recognized it as Mom’s. She’d gone to the office with Dad. He had a few hours of work to catch up on before they had an appointment with a grief counselor. The address was written below the counselor’s name on the off chance that I wanted to join them. I wasn’t going. No counselor, no amount of framed diplomas on an office wall could get me out of the hole I’d dug. After that, they were going to get dinner. She said she’d call and let me know where they were going in case Alex and I wanted to join them after the game. I didn’t.

I looked at the clock on the microwave—it was 1:00. I’d never been to a shrink before, but I presumed my parents would be there awhile. They had a lot of stuff to hash out, stuff that was mainly my fault. My guess was they’d last about an hour, maybe more if Mom cried. That gave me a couple of hours, at least, before I had to face them.

I grabbed my phone and shut it off, going so far as to remove the battery from the back and shove the phone into the top drawer of my desk. I didn’t want to talk to anybody, at least not until I figured out exactly what I was going to say to my parents.

I went into my own closet and pulled out my favorite pair of jeans, the ones that Josh and I used to draw on when we were bored in History class. Each character, each symbol, and each silly quote had a story attached to it. I wanted to wrap myself in those memories and carry them with me. The flannel shirt was one of Maddy’s. It was soft and well worn, something she used to wear on the weekends when she was lounging around. It had a lipstick smudge on the sleeve and still smelled like her—lavender and vanilla, and the tiniest hint of Alex’s cologne that always seemed to linger around her. The sweatshirt Josh gave me the other day was still hanging on the chair downstairs. I grabbed it and put it on, drawing an overly long sleeve to my nose and breathing in the familiar inky scent that was Josh.

It felt good to surround myself with the warm scents of the two people I loved most, and without having to worry about my hair or makeup, I felt like regular old me. The only things missing were my sneakers and my sketchbook. I’d grab those in a minute.