Blood on My Hands

nice. Then, on the train going home, I thought about how hard it would be to go back to my house, back to my depressed mom and broken dad, and to scooping ice cream every day once school ended and babysitting bratty kids most evenings. And how Slade would be going away and the only fun I could imagine having that summer would be with Katherine and her friends. I looked at Katherine, maybe expecting to see her smile and nod as if she knew what I was thinking. But she was talking to Zelda and not even looking at me. And I realized … this time she didn’t have to look at me to know.

Chapter 10
    Sunday 1:47 A.M.
    IN THE TRUCK I nervously pick at the old duct tape that covers the split in the passenger seat and gaze at the EMS building. Slade’s still staring straight ahead. There’s one thing I have to say. It comes out in a whisper: “There was never, ever, anyone else, Slade. I need you to believe that.”
    A long breath rushes out of his lips and he bends forward until his forehead touches the steering wheel. “What are you going to do?”
    “I … have to figure out who the real killer is.”
    “How?”
    I think back to tonight’s events, beginning with the kegger. Mia had called and asked me to go with her. I didn’t want to. I was still a little mad at her for what had happened with the story we had written together for the school newspaper. And I thought I’d be really uncomfortable if I ran into Katherine. But Mia had practically insisted. “Don’t worry. Lots of people like you, Callie. And they’ll be there, too. I don’t even think Katherine is coming.”
    But of course Katherine was there.
    “Cal?” Slade says, bringing me back from these thoughts.
    “I’m just trying to figure it out. I’m wondering if it could have been a setup. If the whole thing could have been planned to make it look like I killed her.”
    “Or it just could have been some sicko passing through,” Slade says. “It was in the woods, in the middle of the night. It could have been anyone. Don’t you think that’s a lot more likely than some high-school kids planning a murder?”
    “It may have been just one high-school kid.”
    “Look, I know a lot of people didn’t like Katherine,” he says. “But why would anyone want to kill her? You’re talking about Soundview. There hasn’t been a murder here in ten years.”
    And only one attempted murder … by my brother , I can’t help thinking bitterly.
    Slade leans back into the shadows. I can’t see his face clearly, can’t tell what’s on his mind. Maybe he’s thinking I’ll never be able to figure it out. Especially if at the same time the police are looking for me. Maybe he’s regretting that he came to get me. Maybe he’s wishing he never met me in the first place.
    “I’m sorry, Slade. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved, and I understand why you don’t want to help me. You’ve already done way more for me than I deserve.”
    In the shadows, Slade doesn’t move or speak. I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.
    Slade says, “Wait.”
    In early May, Katherine and Dakota weren’t speaking to each other again. I’m not sure anyone at the lunch table gave it much thought. We just assumed they were having another one of their mysterious arguments. They both sat in their usual places at the table, as if neither was about to give up her position, no matter what. Both chatted and gossiped with the other girls. They just didn’t talk or gossip with each other.
    In fact, they didn’t even look at each other.
    But the next day Dakota didn’t show up. We’d seen her in school that morning, but now it was lunch and she wasn’t in the cafeteria. And that was how everyone knew that this fight was different.
    It happened during the final weeks of rehearsal for the spring PACE show. As the days passed, the situation at lunch grew stranger. How long would Dakota stay away? How long would Katherine preside over the table pretending nothing was wrong?
    “What’s going on?” Mia asked me one day as we walked down the hall toward gym.
    “Not a clue,” I answered.
    Mia had a habit of tucking her chin into her neck like a turtle when she looked at you. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. I mean, why would I know?”
    “You spend more time with them,” Mia said. “They invite you to do more things than the rest of us.”
    “Not more than Zelda and Jodie.”
    “Those two are in a world of their own,” Mia said with a shrug. “I just