I shade my eyes against the sun outside the church, scanning the crowduntil I spot Jake. He and the other pallbearers put Simon's casket onto somekind of metal stretcher, then step aside as the funeral directors angle ittoward the hearse. I look down, not wanting to watch Simon's body getloaded into the back of a car like an oversized suitcase, and somebody tapsme on the shoulder.
"Addy Prentiss?" An older woman dressed in a boxy blue suit gives me apolite, professional smile. "I'm Detective Laura Wheeler with the BayviewPolice. I want to follow up on the discussion you had last week with OfficerBudapest about Simon Kelleher's death. Could you come to the station withme for a few minutes?"
I stare at her and lick my lips. I want to ask why, but she's so calm andassured, like it's the most natural thing in the world to pull me aside after afuneral, that it seems rude to question her. Jake comes up beside me then,handsome in his suit, and gives Detective Wheeler a friendly, curious smile.My eyes dart between them and I stammer, "Isn't it--I mean--can't we talkhere?"
Detective Wheeler winces. "So crowded, don't you think? And we'reright around the corner." She gives Jake a half smile. "Detective LauraWheeler, Bayview Police. I'm looking to borrow Addy for a little while andget clarification on a few points related to Simon Kelleher's death.""Sure," he says, like that settles things. "Text me if you need a ride after,Ads. Luis and I will stick around downtown. We're starving and we gottatalk offensive strategy for next Saturday's game. Going to Glenn's,probably."
So that's it, I guess. I follow Detective Wheeler down the cobblestonepath behind the church that leads to the sidewalk, even though I don't wantto. Maybe this is what Ashton means when she says I don't think formyself. It's three blocks to the police station, and we walk in silence past ahardware store, the post office, and an ice cream parlor where a little girlout front is having a meltdown about getting chocolate sprinkles instead ofrainbow. I keep thinking I should tell Detective Wheeler that my motherwill worry if I don't come straight home, but I'm not sure I could say itwithout laughing.
We pass through metal detectors in the front of the police station andDetective Wheeler leads me straight to the back and into a small,overheated room. I've never been inside a police station before, and Ithought it would be more ... I don't know. Official-looking. It reminds meof the conference room in Principal Gupta's office, with worse lighting. Theflickering fluorescent tube above us deepens every line on DetectiveWheeler's face and turns her skin an unattractive yellow. I wonder what itdoes to mine.
She offers me a drink, and when I decline she leaves the room for a fewminutes, returning with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and asmall, dark-haired woman trailing behind her. Both of them sit across fromme at the squat metal table, and Detective Wheeler lowers her bag onto thefloor. "Addy, this is Lorna Shaloub, a family liaison for the Bayview SchoolDistrict. She's here as an interested adult on your behalf. Now, this is not acustodial interrogation. You don't have to answer my questions and you arefree to leave at any time. Do you understand?"Not really. She lost me at "interested adult." But I say "Sure," eventhough I wish more than ever I'd just gone home. Or that Jake had comewith me.
"Good. I hope you'll hang in here with me. My sense is, of all the kidsinvolved, you're the most likely to have gotten in over your head with no illintent."
I blink at her. "No ill what?"
"No ill intent. I want to show you something." She reaches into the bagnext to her and pulls out a laptop. Ms. Shaloub and I wait as she opens itand presses a few keys. I suck in my cheeks, wondering if she's going toshow me the Tumblr posts. Maybe the police think one of us wrote them assome kind of awful joke. If they ask me who, I guess I'd have to sayBronwyn. Because the whole thing sounds like it's written by somebodywho thinks they're ten times smarter than everyone else.
Detective Wheeler turns the laptop so it's facing me. I'm not sure whatI'm looking at, but it seems like some kind of blog, with the About Thatlogo front and center. I give her a questioning look, and she says, "This isthe admin panel Simon used to manage content for About That. The textbelow last Monday's date stamp are his latest posts."I lean forward and start to read.
First time this app has ever featured good-girl BR, possessor of school's most perfectacademic record. Except she didn't get that A in chemistry through plain old hard work,unless that's how you define stealing tests from Mr. C's Google Drive. Someone call Yale....
On the opposite end of the spectrum, our favorite criminal NM's back to doing what hedoes best: making sure the entire school is as high as it wants to be. Pretty sure that's aprobation violation there, N.
MLB plus CC equals a whole lot of green next June, right? Seems inevitableBayview's southpaw will make a splash in the major leagues ... but don't they have somepretty strict antijuicing rules? Because CC's performance was most definitely enhancedduring showcase season.
AP and JR are the perfect couple. Homecoming princess and star running back, in lovefor three years straight. Except for that intimate detour A took over the summer with TFat his beach house. Even more awkward now that the guys are friends. Think theycompare notes?
I can't breathe. It's out there for everyone to see. How? Simon's dead; hecan't have published this. Has someone else taken over for him? TheTumblr poster? But it doesn't even matter: the how, the why, the when--allthat matters is that it is. Jake will see it, if he hasn't already. All the things Iread before I got to my initials, that shocked me as I realized who they wereabout and what they meant, fall out of my brain. Nothing exists except mystupid, horrible mistake in black and white on the screen for the wholeworld to read.
Jake will know. And he'll never forgive me.
I'm almost folded in half with my head on the table, and can't make outDetective Wheeler's words at first. Then some start breaking through. "...can understand how you felt trapped ... keep this from being published ...If you tell us what happened we can help you, Addy ...."Only one phrase sinks in. "Is this not published?""It was queued up the day Simon died, but he never got the chance topost it," Detective Wheeler says calmly.
Salvation. Jake hasn't seen this. Nobody has. Except ... this policeofficer, and maybe other police officers. What I'm focused on and whatshe's focused on are two different things.
Detective Wheeler leans forward, her lips stretched in a smile thatdoesn't reach her eyes. "You may already have recognized the initials, butthose other stories were about Bronwyn Rojas, Nate Macauley, and CooperClay. The four of you who were in the room with Simon when he died.""That's ... a weird coincidence," I manage.
"Isn't it?" Detective Wheeler agrees. "Addy, you already know howSimon died. We've analyzed Mr. Avery's room and can't see any way thatpeanut oil could have gotten into Simon's cup unless someone put it thereafter he filled it from the tap. There were only six people in the room, oneof whom is dead. Your teacher left for a long period of time. The four ofyou who remained with Simon all had reasons for wanting to keep himquiet." Her voice doesn't get any louder, but it fills my ears like buzzingfrom a hive. "Do you see where I'm heading with this? This might havebeen carried out as a group, but it doesn't mean you share equalresponsibility. There's a big difference between coming up with an idea andgoing along with it."
I look at Ms. Shaloub. She does look interested, I have to say, but not likeshe's on my side. "I don't understand what you mean.""You lied about being in the nurse's office, Addy. Did someone put youup to that? To removing the EpiPens so Simon couldn't be helped later?"My heart pounds as I pull a strand of hair off my shoulders and twist itaround my fingers. "I didn't lie. I forgot." God, what if she makes me take alie detector test? I'll never pass.
"Kids your age are under a lot of pressure today," Detective Wheelersays. Her tone is almost friendly, but her eyes are as flat as ever. "The socialmedia alone--it's like you can't make a mistake anymore, can you? Itfollows you everywhere. The court is very forgiving toward impressionableyoung people who act hastily when they have a lot to lose, especially whenthey help us uncover the truth. Simon's family deserves the truth, don't youthink?"
I hunch my shoulders and tug at my hair. I don't know what to do. Jakewould know--but Jake's not here. I look at Ms. Shaloub tucking her shorthair behind her ears, and suddenly Ashton's voice pops into my head. Youdon't have to answer any questions.
Right. Detective Wheeler said that at the beginning, and the words pusheverything else out of my brain with startling relief and clarity."I'm going to leave now."
I say it with confidence, but I'm still not one hundred percent sure I cando that. I stand and wait for her to stop me, but she doesn't. She justnarrows her eyes and says, "Of course. As I told you, this isn't a custodialinterrogation. But please understand, the help I can give you now won't bethe same once you leave this room."
"I don't need your help," I tell her, and walk out the door, then out of thepolice station. Nobody stops me. Once I'm outside, though, I don't knowwhere to go or what to do.
I sit on a bench and pull out my phone, my hands shaking. I can't callJake, not for this. But who does that leave? My mind's as blank as ifDetective Wheeler took an eraser and wiped it clean. I've built my entireworld around Jake and now that it's shattered I realize, way too late, that Ishould have cultivated some other people who'd care that a police officerwith mom hair and a sensible suit just accused me of murder. And when Isay "care," I don't mean in an oh-my-God-did-you-hear-what-happened-to-Addy kind of way.
My mother would care, but I can't face that much scorn and judgmentright now.
I scroll to the As in my contact list and press a name. It's my only option,and I say a silent prayer of thanks when she picks up.
"Ash?" Somehow I manage not to cry at my sister's voice. "I need help."Cooper
Sunday, September 30, 2:30 p.m.
When Detective Chang shows me Simon's unpublished About That page, Iread everyone else's entry first. Bronwyn's shocks me, Nate's doesn't, Ihave no idea who the hell this "TF" Addy supposedly hooked up with is--and I'm almost positive I know what's coming for me. My heart pounds as Ispy my initials: Because CC's performance was most definitely enhancedduring showcase season.
Huh. My pulse slows as I lean back in my chair. That's not what Iexpected.
Although I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I improved too much, tooquickly--even the Padres scout said something.
Detective Chang dances around the subject for a while, dropping hintsuntil I understand he thinks the four of us who were in the room planned thewhole thing to keep Simon from posting his update. I try to picture it--me,Nate, and the two girls plotting murder by peanut oil in Mr. Avery'sdetention. It's so stupid it wouldn't even make a good movie.
I know I'm quiet for too long. "Nate and I never even spoke before lastweek," I finally say. "And I sure as heck never talked to the girls aboutthis."
Detective Chang leans almost halfway across the table. "You're a goodkid, Cooper. Your record's spotless till now, and you've got a bright future.You made one mistake and you got caught. That's scary. I get that. But it'snot too late to do the right thing."
I'm not sure which mistake he's referring to: my alleged juicing, myalleged murdering, or something we haven't talked about yet. But as far as Iknow, I haven't been caught at anything. Just accused. Bronwyn and Addyare probably getting the exact same speech somewhere. I guess Nate wouldget a different one.
"I didn't cheat," I tell Detective Chang. "And I didn't hurt Simon." Ahdidn't. I can hear my accent coming back.
He tries a different tack. "Whose idea was it to use the planted cellphones to get all of you into detention together?"I lean forward, palms pressed on the black wool of my good pants. Ihardly ever wear them, and they're making me hot and itchy. My heart'sbanging against my chest again. "Listen. I don't know who did that, but ...isn't it something you should look into? Like, were there fingerprints on thephones? Because it feels to me like maybe we were framed." The other guyin the room, some representative from the Bayview School District whohasn't said a word, nods like I've said something profound. But DetectiveChang's expression doesn't change.
"Cooper, we examined those phones as soon as we started to suspect foulplay. There's no forensic evidence to suggest anyone else was involved. Ourfocus is on the four of you, and that's where I expect it to remain."Which finally gets me to say, "I want to call my parents."The "want" part isn't true, but I'm in over my head. Detective Changheaves a sigh like I've disappointed him but says, "All right. You have yourcell phone with you?" When I nod, he says, "You can make the call here."He stays in the room while I call Pop, who catches on a lot faster than I did."Give me that detective you're talking to," he spits. "Right now. AndCooperstown--wait, Cooper! Hold up. Don't you say another goddamnword to anyone."
I hand Detective Chang my phone and he puts it to his ear. I can't heareverything Pop's saying, but he's loud enough that I get the basic idea.Detective Chang tries to insert a few words--along the lines of how it'sperfectly legal to question minors in California without their parents present--but mostly he lets Pop rant. At one point he says, "No. He's free to go,"and my ears prick up. It hadn't occurred to me that I could leave.Detective Chang gives my phone back, and Pop's voice crackles in myear. "Cooper, you there? Get your ass home. They're not charging you withanything, and you're not gonna answer any more questions without me anda lawyer."
A lawyer. Do I actually need one of those? I hang up and face DetectiveChang. "My father told me to leave."
"You have that right," Detective Chang says, and I wish I'd known thatfrom the beginning. Maybe he told me. I honestly don't remember. "But,Cooper, these conversations are happening all over the station with yourfriends. One of them is going to agree to work with us, and that person willbe treated very differently from the rest of you. I think it should be you. I'dlike you to have that chance."
I want to tell him he's got it all wrong, but Pop told me to stop talking. Ican't bring myself to leave without saying anything, though. So I end upshaking Detective Chang's hand and saying, "Thank you for your time, sir."I sound like the ass-kisser of the century. It's years of conditioningkicking in.