“In cross-country he was always taking her aside, going on about how much potential she had, excusing any of her absences.” She lowered her voice. “It was creepy. Like he had a thing for her.”
She let that hang there for a second before she pulled her features into a pious expression. “I’m not saying he did, necessarily, just that that’s what it looked like.”
“Eww,” Beth said. “That’s revolting. The police interviewed everyone on cross-country, right? Did you say anything to them?”
Lauren glanced at Mona, who’d paused, mascara wand poised in the air. Then Lauren turned back to the mirror and rolled her eyes, the whites flashing. “Oh my God, Beth, it’s not like I actually saw anything. Besides, I don’t want to, like, shatter your faith in our police force, but they’re incompetent assholes. No point in pouring grease on that fire.” She stared at her reflection for a second, pursing her lips, and then she grabbed her bag and swept out of the bathroom. Beth and Mona followed close behind.
Only after the door banged shut did I let out my breath, the air escaping with a soft whine.
I want you to know that at first, he wasn’t even part of the equation, wasn’t why I started sliding out my window into the dark of night. At first it was just me and Lily, both of us bored with being ourselves, ready to test out who the world would let us be.
MR. MATTHEWS.
Mr. Matthews and Anna.
He had “a thing” for her.
Lily thought they “should get a room.”
I took some long deep breaths and tried to dissect it all as logically as I could.
On the one hand, even if Anna had been interested in Mr. Matthews, even if Mr. Matthews had given her special attention, that didn’t mean he was who she’d gone out to see that night. Having a crush on a teacher was one thing, but actually getting involved with one was totally different. And a teacher wasn’t what I’d have expected for Anna at all. I’d have expected a guy at school, some guy with nice hair and a slow smile. Preferably one who read the occasional book. Not that a teacher was literally impossible—I’d seen the Lifetime movies—but I really struggled to see Anna going that route.
On the other hand, there were things it would explain, like why Lily refused to talk about what happened and why the guy hadn’t come forward. And why Anna had snuck out in the middle of the night to see him.
That last one had seemed particularly strange to me. Because it would be one thing for her to sneak out and meet someone I’d already known she was seeing—I got that people did that—but I didn’t understand the secrecy about the guy himself. Our parents weren’t strict, had never laid down any rules about dating. At most, they might have teased her briefly if she’d told them she was going out with a guy at school, joked about making him come over for dinner so they could grill him about his intentions.
I did know that Anna had liked Mr. Matthews. As a teacher, as a coach. I remembered her telling me he asked students to call him by his first name (Ben), that he assigned good readings and thoughtful homework. She’d also mentioned that he took his role as the cross-country coach very seriously—unlike the volleyball coach, who was known for spending entire games playing Candy Crush.
And I’d been surprised when Anna had signed up for cross-country. While she’d always had an innate athleticism, always done well in gym, she’d never been particularly interested in sports. I’d assumed cross-country was Lily’s idea, but now I wondered if Mr. Matthews had been part of it, even the main motivating factor.
I hated that idea. Hated the idea that Anna might have been involved with some creepy guy at least twice her age.
Still, I thought back to Mr. Matthews at the funeral, his head bowed, seated apart from the other teachers.
And I thought…maybe.
The first time we went to a bar, it was more of a dare than anything else—like kids taking two steps into a scary neighbor’s yard. The outcome was the same too, in that less than nothing happened—we were turned away literally as soon as we walked in.
I STAYED IN THE BATHROOM for a long time, all through lunch and the next period. When I finally made my way out, there was Charlie walking by. Alone. Which was perfect, because now I needed to speak with Lily more than ever.
“Hey, Charlie,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Charlie paused, his hands wrapped loosely around the straps of his backpack. “I’m running late for practice,” he said. “So actually—”
“This is quick. I just need Lily’s number.”
“Lily’s number?” He gave me an odd look. “I didn’t realize you two were friends.”
“We’re not.” He continued to look at me strangely, so I elaborated. “If we were friends, then I’d have her number.”
“Well, sorry, but I don’t have it,” he said, starting to walk away.
I didn’t understand. “You don’t have your girlfriend’s phone number?” I called after him.
He turned back around. “Ex-girlfriend. Lily and I aren’t together anymore.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Well, she moved to Florida—I guess that’s how it works. Anyway, I got a new phone and I don’t have her in my contacts.”
“Okay, so who would have it, then? One of the girls from cross-country?”
His laughter surprised me.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Lily wasn’t exactly a girl’s girl, if you know what I mean.”
I had absolutely no idea what he meant, but I’d long learned to treat that statement as rhetorical.
“Okay, so who might, then?” I asked.
He looked at me, annoyed, like he really wanted to tell me to stop asking questions and get out of his way already. “You could try Brian,” he said. “He’d probably have it.”
—
I FOUND BRIAN SHOOTING HOOPS in the gym. He was dribbling back after making a basket when he saw me
