Chapter 27

Tuesday 6:08 A.M.

“I CAN HELP you get what you want.”

“But there’s a catch, right? Something I’ll have to do for you?”

“Of course.”

“So what is it?”

“When the time is right, I’ll let you know.”

I wake to a roar in my ears and sit up, disoriented. It sounds like a jet engine. The air in the tree house is heavy with moisture, and here and there water drips in through the slats of the roof. A downpour thunders from above. I check my cell phone for the time—just after six in the morning—and debate whether to call Slade, who is a late sleeper. Giving in to urgency, I call, knowing that it will surely wake him.

“Hello?” He picks up right away.

“You’re up!”

“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately. What’s going on? Where are you? I thought you were worried the police were tracing your calls.”

“Jerry fixed it so they can’t trace me.”

“Jerry?”

“Sebastian’s old friend. I’ve told you about him. Crazy reclusive tech whiz?”

“Oh, yeah. So where are you? Can I see you? There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Uh …” I’m about to tell him where I am when I catch myself. What if the police are listening to his phone … or sitting there in the room with him, threatening to arrest him if he doesn’t help them? “Can’t you tell me over the phone?”

“I … No, I’ve been thinking, Cal, and this is something I have to tell you in person.”

I feel myself fill with apprehension. “Why? What is it?”

“It’s better if it’s face-to-face.”

I can’t imagine why he can’t tell me over the phone. It doesn’t feel right. “Slade, it would be better if you just tell me now.”

“Come on, Cal, can’t you just tell me where you are? I can probably be there in five minutes. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

After everything that’s happened, I can’t help feeling suspicious and cautious. I want to trust him, but some sixth sense is sending me warning signals. They might be about him, or they might be about something else. I only know I have to be extra careful. Paranoid, just like he said. “Slade, it’s better if you tell me over the phone. Really, it’s okay. No one’s listening.”

“I know no one’s listening,” he snaps, suddenly becoming angry. “Why can’t you just cooperate for once? Why do you always have to have everything your way?”

“Slade, it’s not that.… You know it isn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah.” His words seethe with sarcasm.

“It’s true!” I insist, stung.

“Right. Just like the reason you broke up with me had nothing to do with the fact that I wasn’t going to college. Or I didn’t know the right way to hold a fork and that my family didn’t belong to the right clubs. Damn, I’ve heard this all before. Why do I even bother?”

“Slade, what are you talking about?” I’m truly bewildered. I can’t remember ever talking to him about forks or belonging to clubs.

“Forget it, Cal.”

“Forget what?”

“I said forget it. Oh, and listen, your cover’s been blown. On the news last night they had a security-camera shot of you in some grocery store in your punk getup. You can bet it’ll be on the local news again this morning and all over the Internet.”

The anger and sarcasm hurt. “Thank you for telling me that, Slade,” I say, even though I already know. “I wish you’d tell me why you’re so upset.”

Silence. And then, sounding choked up, he says, “Forget it, Cal. It probably doesn’t even matter at this point.”

“It does matter, Slade. Don’t you want us to get back together?”

The line goes quiet. Is he still there? “Slade?”

“I … I gotta go, Cal.”

“No!”

But he’s gone.

Jodie told me why I hadn’t been invited to Zelda’s beach house, and why Katherine had suddenly become silent. And that was when I panicked and gave into impulse and acted rashly.

I called Slade … and told him it was over.

As soon as I got off the phone, I sent a text to Katherine: I did it.

Not ten minutes passed before a text arrived from Zelda: Want 2 go 2 my beach house this wknd?

I went, trying not to think about what I’d done, and to be honest, I had a great time. Zelda’s house was huge, bright, and breezy, and the crash of the surf was always in my ears, and the fresh scent of salt air in my nose. It was Katherine, Jodie, Zelda, Brianna, and me. Dakota was away on vacation with her parents.

I felt like a different person. At night we went to a dance club, where college guys hit on us. It made me wonder if I should apply to a four-year school in the fall. Given the alternative—two years at FCC, living at home, hanging around the same old town—why not at least try to get in somewhere else? I was in a new place—with my girlfriends and with my life. By the end of the weekend, I believed Katherine. I might have loved Slade, but he wasn’t right for me.

And, I thought, I was in the IC.

Blood on My Hands
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