chapter 10

What happened? “ Caulder asked. We were back in the hallway by the bathroom, and I couldn't talk to them. They'd seen me come in, Hally and Caulder, and followed me back here, hovering around, wanting to help—but I couldn't talk. To Hally, that wasn't important; she just put her arms around me. But Caulder wouldn't leave me alone.

“Go on into the bathroom and blow your nose,” Hally told me. “You can have some privacy in there at least. I'll come and check on you in a minute.”

If Hally'd aimed a hint at Caulder when she mentioned privacy, he missed it completely. He followed me right into the bathroom and shut the door, and then he sat down on the sink counter and folded his arms. I turned around with a wad of paper under my nose and my eyes streaming.

“Ginny,” he said, “you're scaring me. Did Zabriski try something? Because if he did, I'll kill him.”

“Oh, Caulder,” I moaned, and I closed the top of the toilet and sat down on it. He started to say something, but I held up one hand, blowing my nose with the other. And then I took a slow, deep breath.

“I don't know how I can tell you this,” I said, and I meant it. How are you supposed to explain something to somebody else, when you don't even have the words you'd need to explain it to yourself? My heart was banging around inside me so hard, I was nearly dizzy—and now I was supposed to be able to untangle all these dark, weird feelings…

I made a try at it, just talking about looking for Smitty, and then finding him, and then what had happened, all the time begging him with my eyes not to make it any worse than it was.

When I finished, he just sat there. I screwed up my courage and looked him in the face. He was staring at me. “How do you do these things?” he said. “I can't believe you do these things.”

I sighed and sagged against the wall.

“You got him to talk to you,” he breathed. “You know what I'd give to have him talk to me?”

I laughed, in spite of myself. “Not the right stuff evidently,” I said.

But his face, studying mine, was very serious. “I can't believe you actually kissed him. How could you do that?”

“I wasn't just messing around, if that's what you're afraid of,” I said, and I was angry. “I was sitting with Zabriski, not five minutes before. If I'd wanted kissing, I could've gotten it there. And if I'd wanted to torture Smitty, there are a thousand easier ways.”

It got very quiet.

“Don't you think this is a little weird?” he asked.

“No,” I said. But I was lying. What I had done tonight had separated me from everything normal, even Caulder, and I was very scared. I blew my nose again.

“So, where is he?”

And then I realized—gone, probably. Gone again.

“I left him outside,” I said, feeling like I was caught in a bad dream.

Caulder left the bathroom on the run. I caught up with him out in the back yard. Of course Smitty wasn't there.

Caulder swore. I'd never heard him do that before. “Well, we've got to find him,” he said. “Come on.” I waited in the cold while Caulder got our coats. He had Smitty's too. “Pneumonia,” he said to me, holding it up. “Let's go.”

For the next two solid hours, we searched—every road, every field, Hally's neighborhood, the hillside.

“I don't know how these things keep happening,” Caulder finally said between his teeth. “Ginny, you make him crazy.”

“I make him crazy? You're the one who wanted him pushed. You're the one who thought he'd been having it too easy. This should make you very happy. You were right—we pushed him up against the wall, and he finally had to react.” I was crying again. “Isn't that what you wanted?”

He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

After a minute, he said, “Yes. That's what I wanted.” He turned down another street. “I'm sorry.” He went on softly. “Maybe I didn't believe anything would ever happen.” And then, a moment and another turn later, “And I didn't know how it was with you.” He glanced at me, but I couldn't look him in the face.

“You think I knew?” I asked him. “You think I know now?”

“Ginny,” he sighed, “you've got to stop crying. We've got to find him, and you're not going to be able to see a thing if you don't stop.”

We rode around for another half hour before we decided to go home. It had been so long now, he'd probably gotten home hours ago. And we didn't know what else to do.

The second we pulled up in front of Caulder's house, his mother came out on the porch, one hand up, shading her eyes against the front light.

“Oh-oh,” Caulder said. And if it was possible, my stomach did one more ugly twist. Caulder stopped the engine and got out.

“Park it,” his mother said. “And then you better get in here.”

He got back into the car, slowly, and we shared an awful look.

“I guess he got home,” Caulder said, starting the car back up.

“Let's hope he did,” I said. I could hear blood on the road in Mrs. Pretiger's voice.

Caulder pulled the car up into the driveway. “You better go home,” he said to me as we got out. “I'll call you when she gets finished with me.”

“I should come,” I said.

“Go home,” he told me, “and wash your face.”

When the phone finally rang, it nearly scared me to death. I'd been curled up in a corner of the couch, chilling and freezing in spite of the quilt I'd wrapped around myself. Miserable. My parents weren't home yet; for once I was glad. The boys were already in bed and the house was still as death.

“How you doing?” Caulder's voice sounded tired.

“Not great,” I said. “What happened?”

“Smitty got home way before we did,” Caulder said. “He nearly froze to death on the way. And by the time he got home, he was really crazy. His mom called over here, thinking I could tell her what was wrong, but, of course, we weren't home yet. She told my mom that Smitty was up in his room, throwing things around. Then, while they were talking, he came down and started pacing around from room to room, waiting for her to get off the phone. Mrs. Tibbs said his hair was standing all up, like he'd been pulling on it or something. She was crying when she called.

“She called about three more times, looking for us. My mom called Hally's, trying to find us, but we weren't at the party either.”

I moaned. “So, is he okay now?”

“Actually he's gone.”

“Gone? “

“The last time his mother called, she said they were taking him over to the university clinic.”

I didn't say anything. I just kept shivering.

“He wanted them to, Gin,” Caulder said. “He wrote down the name of the psychologist himself, and he handed his mother the phone. My mom is really mad at me. She was just worried for a long time tonight.”

I felt so cold.

“I guess I got what I wanted,” he said before he hung up. “I hope he lives through it.”

It was not an easy night for me.

I heard my parents come in, heard them messing around in the kitchen. They were louder than usual, laughing a lot. It was comforting, knowing they were there, and I wished I could just get up and go in and talk to them about everything.

But it was too late for that. I wouldn't even know how to start. What was I going to say—"While you guys were off doing whatever it was you were doing, I got involved with this dysfunctional mentally ill kid, and last night, I made a sexual move on him that finally drove him over the edge and now he's in the mental hospital?”

I turned over on my side, feeling sick to my stomach. Why did I kiss him? Why did I have to kiss him? At the very least, it had been a bad decision. If it had ever actually been a decision. And, no question, there were going to be terrible consequences. Everybody was going to have to know what finally set him off. They were going to have to know about me and what I'd done.

This was a nightmare.

And it was all my fault.