This Is Why We Lie Page 9

  Tommy wipes a smear of blood from his nose. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” I echo. “I think we did alright. Thanks for helping out.”

  Max slaps my hand again. “I got you,” he says.

  This is our initiation. If this was a test, we all just passed. We don’t have to say any more. We’re going to have each other’s backs now, no matter what.

  JENNA

  We pull up outside my house, and Serena cuts the engine. Dusk is starting to set, and the lampposts have come on. Kate’s car isn’t in the driveway, which means she’s probably still at the precinct.

  “So?” Serena turns in her seat. She’s beaming at me.

  I blink back at her.

  “Max?” she prompts. “He’s great, right?”

  I can’t seem to manage a response.

  “He’s the best.” She answers her own question with a satisfied smile.

  “Yeah. He was acting pretty weird when I asked him about Colleen, though.”

  “Probably because she’s dead. Everyone acts weird when you talk about dead people, Jenna. It’s a thing.”

  “But he made out like he didn’t even know her.”

  “Because he didn’t. Not really.”

  “She used to party at that cabin every weekend.”

  “Not every weekend,” Serena says with a frown. “Colleen tagged along sometimes, but the guys never actually hung out with her.”

  “That’s not how Colleen saw it.”

  Her eyes cloud. “What do you mean? How did Colleen see it?”

  “She thought the Rooks were her friends. She made out like she and Max were really tight.”

  Serena’s mouth pulls into a grimace. “Max barely even knew who she was. Colleen was effing delusional.”

  A coldness comes over me. I don’t like talking about Colleen this way. Okay, Colleen and I were hardly best friends, but still, it feels disrespectful.

  “I’d better go,” I tell Serena. “Kate will be home soon, and it’s my turn to cook dinner.”

  She blows air kisses at me. “Bye, J. See you at school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. See you.”

  * * *

  I step out from the bathroom stall. There’s a girl standing in front of the mirror. She glances my way.

  “Oh,” I say. “Hey, Colleen.”

  She turns back to the mirror and resumes sweeping her mascara brush over her lashes. “You got any gum?” she asks.

  “Sorry, no.” I move to one of the sinks and turn on the faucet.

  She frowns at me. “Perfume? Anything?”

  “Nope.”

  She struts across the bathroom and leans in close to me. “Smell me. Can you tell I’ve smoked a joint?”

  “Um...”

  She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Jenna. Do I smell of pot? Yes or no.” She snaps her fingers, hurrying me along.

  “Kind of,” I tell her.

  “Shit.” She twists her platinum hair to one side and dips down to the running faucet. She swills out her mouth, then splashes water over her face.

  I watch her.

  “Okay.” She pops back up and leans close to me again. “That’s better, right?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a little. But you still smell like pot.”

  Her shoulders sink. “Ah, well. Screw it, right? It’s not like my mom’s going to get that close.”

  “Haven’t you been in classes all day? When did you find time to smoke pot?”

  She turns to the mirror and pouts at her reflection. “I bailed on fourth and fifth. I’ve been at Rookwood.”

  My eyebrows rise, and she laughs.

  “Jesus, Jenna. Looks like you could use a joint yourself. Loosen up a little, babe.” She tugs at a strand of my hair, then laughs again.

  I smooth the hair back down. “Personal space, Colleen.”

  “Why don’t you ever come to Rookwood? I thought you and Serena were solid?”

  “Not anymore, apparently. She has Imogen and Brianna now.”

  A cackle escapes her cerise lips. “Yeah, because they’re fun. They know how to have a good time.”

  “At Rookwood.” My tone is dry. “Awesome.”

  “Whatever. Serena doesn’t need you. She has her fake friends to party with now.”

  “Imogen and Brianna aren’t fake friends.”

  Colleen snorts. “You don’t know the half.”

  “Well, good for you guys. Rookwood parties are not for me.”

  “Oh, what?” she scoffs. “Because it’s not a library or wherever it is that you basics like to go?”

  I cross my arms. “The Rooks are shady. I always see them hanging out at the pier, graffitiing or getting wasted.”

  “So? If you weren’t so judgmental, you might actually find that you like some of them. Those guys are basically my new best friends.” She gazes at her refection and combs her fingers through her silky hair. “Max is cool.”

  “Max? As in, Serena’s boyfriend, Max?”

  “Yeah.”

  I crinkle my nose. “Max is your new best friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How does Serena feel about that?”

  “Jealous AF. Obviously.”

  ADAM

  We meet in the forest at midnight. Max, Tommy, and me. There’s a clearing about half a mile in where we’ve set up logs around a firepit. We come here sometimes. Usually, when we want to be alone.

  I hold up my phone’s flashlight as Max throws some kindling onto the pit. He strikes a match, and a flame glows orange around his thumb and forefinger. I watch as he tosses the lit matchstick onto the tinder and the embers start to burn.

  Tommy sits on one of the logs. Max stays standing. I do, too.

  “So, this girl Jenna,” Max says. “She’s asking about Colleen?”

  I shrug.

  “What, were they friends or something?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe.”

  Tommy drops his head into his hands.

  “And what are you telling her?” Max is eye-level with me. Neither of us moves. “What are you saying when she’s asking questions?”

  “What’d you think? Nothing.”

  His jaw clenches. “It’d better be nothing, Adam.”

  I don’t bother responding. I take a seat next to Tommy and start prodding the smoldering kindling with a twig, trying to get the flames to rise.

  Max is pacing and muttering to himself.

  “We’re screwed,” Tommy says under his breath. “We’ve already got the cops looking into us. The last thing we need is some girl finding out about anything.”

  I stare into the growing fire as it crackles and hisses. “She won’t.”

  Tommy catches my gaze. The firelight illuminates his face in patches, leaving his eyes as two dark shadows. “I can’t get kicked out of school, Adam. I’m still on probation. I’ll get locked up for this.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  Max stops pacing and takes a seat on the log opposite us. His knee starts bouncing.

  “She can’t come around here anymore.” He’s nervous. I can hear the fear building in his voice as he speaks into the fire. “This Jenna. You can’t bring her around here.” His eyes land on me.

  I frown back at him. “I didn’t bring her. Serena brought her, not me.”

  “We agreed, remember?” Max’s pale gaze darts over both of us now. “We’ve got a plan. We’ve just gotta stick to it. Yeah?”

  Neither of us replies. We don’t have to.

  Max’s stare settles on Tommy. “Get your shit together, T.”

  Tommy mumbles a response. His head is bowed, fingers knotted through his dark hair.

  I snap the twig and toss the pieces into the flames. “He’s fine,” I tell Max. “Me and him are all
good. You’re the one who needs to get his shit together.”

  Max stays focused on the fire. He has nothing left to say.

  * * *

  I try not to watch, but I can’t bring myself to look away. They’re on the sofa. Colleen’s talking fast, and Max is consoling her, stroking her arm and whispering into her ear. Every now and then, he glances across the room, checking that we’re still alone.

  Checking that Serena isn’t here to see this.

  He’s cool with Tommy and me shooting pool at the back of the cabin, but if anyone else were to show up now, this wouldn’t look good.

  Man, Serena would flip.

  Suddenly, Colleen’s voice starts getting louder. She stands up, blond hair flying.

  “Calm down,” Max tells her. “Relax, Colleen. Please.”

  “To hell with you.” She yanks her arm away from his touch. “Don’t tell me to calm down. You calm down, asshole! You think you can manipulate me that easily?”

  He glances across the room at Tommy and me. We pretend to care about our pool game, swapping quick looks over the table.

  “Should we step in?” Tommy mouths.

  I shake my head.

  But Colleen’s really losing it. She’s screaming, cussing, the works.

  “I’m sorry,” Max says. He’s standing now, too. “I messed up. It was a mistake—”

  She chokes out an angry sound. “Oh, a mistake?”

  “I’m with Serena. I love Serena.”

  She erupts into bitter laughter. “You’re full of it!”

  Tommy props his pool cue against the table.

  I wince. “Tommy, don’t get involved.”

  It’s too late. He’s already crossing the room, heading toward them. “Colleen,” Tommy’s saying in that practiced calm voice that the Rookwood teachers use on us sometimes. “Slow down. Just breathe.”

  She glares at him.

  “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” Tommy asks. “Just me and you?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a conversation with Max.”

  Max looks down at the floor.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” Tommy says. “This is getting too heated. You need to back off.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she banshee-screams at him.

  “Colleen,” Tommy carries on. “I’m only trying to help. I care about you. We all do.”

  “Yeah, right! You don’t give a shit about me. You assholes don’t give a shit about anyone but each other. You Rooks are all the same!”

  Colleen lashes out at Max then, slapping his face in a round of quick cracks. He pushes her away, and she stumbles backward.

  Suddenly, I’m involved too.

  Tommy and I are in between them, trying to hold her back. I tense as she claws at my arm, trying to get to Max. My heart is racing.

  “You’re done,” she screams. “All of you.” Her wild eyes dart to Max. “I’m going to tell Serena exactly what you’ve been doing behind her back!”

  Max’s jaw clenches.

  “And you—” she points at Tommy with a trembling hand “—don’t test me. Remember I know your secret.”

  His secret?

  I stop. Tommy and Max do, too. It’s as though her words have frozen all three of us, turning the air to ice with one sharp shot.

  “All of you,” she says. “Your shitty lives may as well be over. You’re nobodies,” she spits. “You’re all nobodies on a fast track to juvie.” She looks at me. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Adam. I heard about your poor mom, by the way. You really are cold-blooded, aren’t you? Ruthless. I’ll make sure I spread the word about that.” She blows me a kiss.

  Clean sweep. She has us all.

  JENNA

  I shouldn’t be doing this. I know I shouldn’t be doing this.

  My eyes move quickly over the document headings as I leaf through the stacks of papers. There are a ton of reports, mostly filled with police jargon that means nothing to me. I’m not looking for jargon. I’m looking for statements, names, anything that alludes to suspects.

  These are the original documents, which means, knowing Kate, in a couple of days this data will be inputted into some encrypted system and the hard copies will be locked away in a dusty filing cabinet while the case resumes.

  This is my only shot.

  I pause on a page, and my heart skips a beat. It’s a photo, an extreme close-up showing the marks around Colleen’s throat. The swollen skin. The defined bruises. The finger marks.

  I glance over my shoulder into the corridor. The shower is still running upstairs, and the water heater is humming from the system in the kitchen.

  I take a steadying breath and keep going.

  Further into the pile, there’s a stack of pages held together with a paper clip. On the front cover sheet, a list of names is printed in alphabetical order.

  This is it. I know it is. Hollie Braithwaite is near the top, among the dozens of other names on the list. Hollie’s statement is in here, probably along with any other information the investigators might have gathered on her. Hers is the only name with an asterisk alongside it.

  I trail my finger down the list. My own name is on here too, probably correlating to the statement I gave right after Colleen was found. There are other names I recognize, boys from Rookwood, girls from school, teachers, Colleen’s family members.

  Max Grayson.

  I flip through the document until I find his transcript.

  My eyes move fast over the text.

  Interview with Max Grayson,

  conducted by Detective Kate Dallas at 11:15 a.m.

  on Monday, October 1st.

  K.D.: What can you tell me about Colleen O’Dell?

  M.G.: Not much. She knew my girlfriend.

  K.D.: Your girlfriend’s name, please?

  M.G.: Serena. Serena Blake.

  K.D.: Right. They were friends, Serena and Colleen?

  M.G.: Yeah.

  K.D.: We have witnesses who say you spent quite a bit of time with Miss O’Dell.

  M.G.: I saw her around, yeah. Like I told you, she was friends with my girlfriend.

  K.D.: Any reason why you think someone would want to hurt O’Dell?

  M.G.: Beats me.

  K.D.: What about you? Did you have a reason to hurt O’Dell?

  M.G.: I didn’t know her.

  K.D.: But you spent a lot of time with her. You must have known her a little.

  M.G.: Who says I spent a lot of time with her?

  K.D.: I think you knew her much better than you’re letting on, Max.

  K.D.: Nothing to say?

  M.G.: Nope.

  K.D.: I’ll ask you again, Max. Did you, or anyone you know, have reason to harm Miss O’Dell?

  M.G.: No. Why are you even questioning me? Who told you I had anything to do with this girl?

  K.D.: Does it matter?

  M.G.: Yeah, it matters. Because it’s a lie.

  K.D.: If I’ve been misinformed, why don’t you tell me who I should be questioning? If not you, then who?

  M.G.: Maybe you should ask her friends.

  K.D.: What do you mean by that, Max?

  M.G.: (inaudible.)

  K.D.: Speak up, please.

  M.G.: Nothing. Just, they were the ones who knew her. Not me.

  K.D.: Her friends? You mean like your girlfriend, Serena?

  K.D.: No response?

  M.G.: I don’t know why you’re asking me about Colleen O’Dell. I told you already, I didn’t know the girl.

  * * *

  Upstairs, the shower stops running.

  I grab my phone and take a photo of Max’s transcript. Then I flip through and take photos of as many documents as I can before I gather the pages back together and
return the entire pile to the folder marked Confidential.

  My heart’s pounding as I move to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. I slide into a seat at the island and flip open a lifestyle magazine that’s been left out on the counter. Probably one of Kate’s. I can barely focus on the article.

  Kate’s footsteps pad downstairs. A few seconds later, she emerges, wearing sweats and a tee, and towel drying her hair.

  “Hi, Jenna,” she says when she sees me seated at the island.

  I flip the magazine shut. “Morning.”

  “You’re up early.”

  “Am I?”

  She gives me a quizzical look.

  I clear my throat. “Do you want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “That sounds great.” She drops her damp towel onto the island while I hop up to pour her a cup.

  “Late night?” I ask as the pot whirs.

  She presses her lips together. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Were you working on Colleen’s case?”

  “Yeah. Time just got away from me.”

  I hand her the coffee, which she gratefully accepts.

  She takes a sip, and her eyelids flutter closed for a second.

  I sink back into my seat and wait for her attention to return to me. “You know Colleen was friends with some of the Rookwood boys,” I begin. “Have you talked to the students there?”

  “We have. But there’s nothing substantial.” She stares at me over the rim of her cup. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. Just that some of the guys at Rookwood seem a little off.”

  Her brow furrows. “I didn’t know you’d been spending time with those boys.”

  It may not have been a direct question, but it was a loaded comment all the same.

  I sit up a little straighter under the scrutiny of her gaze. “I haven’t. Not really. But Serena’s dating one of the guys who goes to the school, so...”

  She nods in understanding. “Of course. Well, try not to get too involved, okay?”

  “Trust me, I have no intention of it.”

  I think of Adam, and a knot forms in my stomach.

  “I’m sure the students there are harmless, for the most part,” Kate adds, “but I don’t like the thought of what might be going on at that place. We’ve had way too many calls at the precinct about fights breaking out or fires started on campus.” She shakes her head. “It’s not something I want you getting caught up in.”