“She threw a party at her house. When she passed out, someone cut her leg.” This was the short version, but I needed him to understand why the event bothered me as much as it did. “I’m afraid one of our other students might have been involved.”
Danny’s eyes bulge as he wipes the corners of his mouth. He places his plate beside him, and I feel guilty for having ruined his appetite. “Are the police investigating?”
“The police found her. Someone must have called in a noise complaint about the party. If they hadn’t arrived, the outcome could have been far worse.” My mind revisits the grim details in the essay. “The girl is now claiming she wasn’t attacked. She says she hurt her leg in a fall.”
“Claiming?”
I sigh. “I think she remembers more than she’s saying.” I know I haven’t talked to Darcy myself, but what I read provided insight into what might have happened. “She’s just not ready to come forward.”
“I see,” he says, looking down. I know he’s thinking about someone else now. I’m thinking about her, too. “Is she getting help from someone? Is Pam working with her?”
Danny has always had a soft spot for Pam. They’ve been around one another a few times at different school functions, and once at our house. Their interests of medicine and mental health overlap, although Danny wouldn’t know anything about comforting a teenage girl and Pam would gag if she encountered the number of bodily fluids Danny does throughout the day.
“Pam’s been involved since the beginning. The parents contacted her after it happened, and she’s been counseling the student. Pam was with her today, actually.”
“Good. She needs guidance right now more than anything,” he says, returning to the pizza. “Everything makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?”
“Your attitude this week. It’s understandable why an incident like that would rile you up.”
“That’s what Dr. Walters said, too,” I say, sinking lower into the sofa cushion.
“Well, at least you told her,” Danny says, his tone hurt.
“What does that mean?”
“You said this happened a week ago, right? I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to tell me. Usually you’re more upfront about things.”
Now he sounds exactly like Dr. Walters, as though I’ve done something wrong in not sharing this with him sooner.
“Well, I’m telling you about it now,” I say, feeling the pressure to regain Danny’s approval. “And I think I know who might have attacked her.”
He stops eating again and stares at me. “Who?”
“Do you remember that new student I told you about last week?”
“The one who said fuck in class?” Danny asks, laughing. “Yeah, I remember.”
“I told you she rubbed me wrong from day one. She’s done more stuff since then.”
“Like what?”
“Well, her in-class behavior is as crass as ever. Then she was caught with a knife on the school bus. Bowles, of course, barely punished her,” I say. “And she’s made insensitive comments about the attack.”
“The knife incident is troubling.” He crumples his napkin, places it on the plate. “Wait, you think a girl attacked this student?”
I clench my jaw and close my eyes. I know it sounds unbelievable. Untraditional. There isn’t enough linking Zoey to the attack yet. “I think this girl—Zoey is her name—is disturbed.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong…” Danny pauses, forming his words precisely. “I didn’t think girls typically did that sort of thing. You know, with the violence.”
“That’s why I’m afraid to tell people my theory. No one will take it seriously. Half the school seems convinced the girl’s ex-boyfriend attacked her, but I don’t believe he has it in him.”
“You say this girl—Zoey—is troubled. But why would she go out of her way to hurt another student? There has to be a reason.” Danny isn’t fully convinced. He’s using his pragmatic brain to make sense of everything. “Do you know if Zoey was even at the party?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, I’ve not heard her say.”
“That’s what you need to find out.”
“You’re right.” I’m frustrated that I’m missing this most basic piece of the puzzle. “But it’s all of it together. Zoey is sneaky and smart and able to change her behavior at the drop of a hat. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”
A look washes over his face like I’ve not seen in years. “Like, your brother? You think Zoey might have attacked one of her classmates because she reminds you of your brother?”
“She reminds me of him in lots of ways. Wouldn’t you be nervous if you encountered someone like him?”
“There’s been a lot of people who reminded me of him over the years,” he says, catching himself. “If you remember, everyone liked him. He was an average guy. No one picked up on the dark stuff.”
“And Zoey is exactly like that. The whole school is mesmerized with her because she can sprint and jump hurdles, or whatever. She made the highest grade on Marge’s stupid chemistry test. But that’s all just a deception.”
That remains, still, the scariest part of Brian. That there was a thin line separating him from the rest of society. But that division was important and deliberate. That division helped him mask his monster. And I think Zoey might be following in his footsteps.
“Don’t hate me for saying this,” Danny begins, cracking his knuckles. “Do you think you just don’t like this girl? Maybe your personalities clash.”
“I’ve had several students I didn’t particularly care for over the years. But I’ve never accused them of attacking their classmates. In fact, we didn’t have an incident like this at Victory Hills until Zoey showed up.”
“I just think throwing a person’s name out there can be dangerous. I wish there was a way you could prove this girl was involved.”
I walk into the kitchen. Danny remains on the couch, no doubt trying to make sense of everything I’ve said. I find my school bag and retrieve the anonymous essay. I hand
