Blood on My Hands

I can’t see how these two things could be connected. I mean, we both know what you’re implying. Do you really think Dakota is capable of doing something like that?”
    It’s hard for me not to jump up and gasp, Yes! But I can’t, because I have no idea what Tallon’s talking about. What intimate details?
    “I know,” I reply, trying to sound like I’m commiserating about the situation she’s in. “You don’t want to betray anyone’s trust. It’s just … they ran so hot and cold.”
    “What do you expect? They’re rivals. If it wasn’t for Katherine, Dakota would be the queen.”
    If I can just keep her talking … “But what happened before the PACE show felt different. More serious.”
    Tallon lets out a sigh, as if she’s torn about what to do. “Well, I guess the only other person you could speak to would be Griffen himself.”
    Griffen?
    The bedroom door opens and Jasmine comes out. She looks at us and frowns. If Tallon’s tutoring me, why aren’t there books open on the coffee table? I’ve raised her suspicions and put Tallon in an awkward situation. And who is this Griffen person?
    Jasmine goes into the kitchen and I hear water running. Tallon leans close to me and whispers, “You have to go. You know the police want anyone who sees you to report it. I could get into really big trouble for this.”
    I slowly start to rise and whisper, “I would have gone to Griffen in the first place, but I didn’t know how to find him.”
    “I’m sure he’s on Facebook,” Tallon whispers back.
    We start to cross the living room. I can feel Jasmine’s eyes on me. We get to the door, but instead of going through it, I hesitate and say, “I would have tried Facebook, but I forgot his last name.”
    “Clemment,” Tallon whispers urgently, as if she wants me to leave, now!
    “Right. Thanks.” I go out the door and down the steps as fast as I can without appearing to run.
    By the time I reach the sidewalk, I’ve already decided that I can’t go back to the bus stop. If Tallon calls the police, I’ll be too easy to spot there. Besides, I have to get to a computer. FCC has a library, so I head toward campus. Fortunately it’s Sunday and not many people are around.
    I find the library. At a computer inside I settle down, sign into Facebook, and search Griffen Clemment. A page comes up with a photo of a guy with longish straight blond hair. He’s wearing a white oxford shirt and plaid shorts and standing on the deck of a sailboat, looking as if he’s posing in an ad. The message beside the picture states, Griffen Clemment only shares some of his profile information with everyone. If you know Griffen, send him a message or add him as a friend .
    Under Groups it states Meadows School .
    Bingo! That’s a private school nearby.
    Suddenly a chat box opens on the screen and I am staring at a photo of Mia. In the chat box she types, Callie?
    I freeze, realizing I’ve just made a mistake. Now that I’ve signed on, every Facebook friend I have who is also online right now knows it.
Mia: Is this U? OMG! WRU?
Cal: Not imprtnt .
Mia: The police R looking 4 U .
Cal: I no .
Mia: Why R U hiding?
Cal: Didnt do it .
Mia: We have 2 meet f2f .
    Before I can answer, the screen starts to populate with chat boxes from other kids I know. The news that Callie Carson is online is spreading fast. I have to get off.
    I hate the way people toss around the phrase “dysfunctional family” and make jokes out of it. I remember one about someone putting the “fun” in “dysfunctional.” I don’t mean to be a downer but it’s not funny. Not if you really live in one.
    When Dad and Sebastian went at it, Mom couldn’t, or wouldn’t, leave. Maybe she believed that if she stayed, it would stop things from really getting out of control. Or maybe it was to be around in case someone got hurt and needed care. Or maybe it was simply that this was her family and she was part of it.
    Everyone who knew us knew that it was slowly destroying her. Even before the night Sebastian assaulted Dad with the two-by-four, Mom had begun to come apart. There were days when she couldn’t get out of bed and days when she could only sit, zombielike, in front of the TV. The house became filthy. Meals weren’t prepared.
    In a bizarre way, the last fight between Sebastian and Dad was both the end and the beginning. It was the end of the war in our family, and the end of Mom’s hopes. But it was the beginning of her new role as caretaker.