Blood on My Hands

stand her being more popular than you?” I asked, pressing her.
    Dakota lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, please, that’s so seventh grade.”
    “Then what?” I asked. “Why can’t you be honest with me?”
    After a moment of silence, she said, “Look, Callie, I’m never going to confide in you. You and I are never going to be friends, okay? It’s just not happening.”
    And then she walked away.

Chapter 42
    Friday 9:57 A.M.
    IN THE VISITORS’ room, Mom’s answer nearly knocks me off my chair. I stare at her in utter disbelief.
    “If it means,” Mom continues, “that I won’t have to visit two children in jail.”
    That’s how she sees it, plain and simple. I slump down, feeling defeated. Talk about getting the wind knocked out of you. This can’t be real. It’s a nightmare, a horror movie.
    Gail leans closer. “Callie, think for a moment. What’s our goal here?”
    “My goal is to prove I didn’t kill Katherine,” I snap. “Your goal is probably to plea bargain this thing in time for lunch.”
    “Callie!” Mom gasps, horrified, and then turns to Gail. “I’m so sorry. She doesn’t mean that.”
    I roll my eyes, letting Gail know I most assuredly do mean it.
    “That’s not my goal,” Gail replies calmly. “My goal is to keep you from going to jail.” She pauses and waits, as if the words need time to sink into my incredibly thick skull. “Claiming self-defense is considerably better than a plea bargain, because it means no jail time. So I understand that it sounds crazy and backwards and upside down, Callie, but it’s your best shot.”
    “But I didn’t kill her!” I ball my hands into fists as tears of frustration well up in my eyes. I can’t stand this! It’s so unfair!
    Mom leans forward and places her hand over mine. “Honey, please. Gail’s told me about the article you wrote and how angry Katherine was. It makes sense that she could have been angry enough to attack you.”
    I stare at her in complete shock. My own mother is telling me to lie. To pretend I killed someone when I didn’t. It’s incomprehensible. Mom turns to Gail. “Let me speak to her alone, okay?”
    Gail gets up and walks to the far side of the visitors’ room. Still holding my hand, Mom leans close. I feel an intensity and urgency from her that I’m not used to. “Listen to me, Callie,” she says in a low, firm voice. “You’re young, and young people tend to see everything in black and white, right and wrong. But as you get older, you’ll see that the lines get blurred, and a lot of what you thought was either black or white is simply gray. You’re a smart girl. You know things change. People change. Their outlooks change. Even if you can’t understand what I’m saying now, I promise that someday you will. You have to believe me on this. A lot of life is about compromising. Usually someone your age doesn’t have to compromise on anything nearly this serious. But you’ve already faced a lot of things someone your age shouldn’t have to face. So maybe you can look at this as just one more of those things.”
    Her grip on my hand is tight. I know she’s seen a lot more of life than I have and knows a lot more than I do. And she loves me and would never suggest I do anything that would be bad for me. So I tell her I’ll think about it.
    And I mean it.
    Before she and Gail go, Mom gives me a paper bag with clean clothes and I ask her to call Slade and tell him where I am. Tell him that if he can come, I’d really like to see him.
    A few days after the article was in the school newspaper, Dr. Ploumis, the school psychologist, called me to her office. I walked in and there was David Sloan. I stopped, confused.
    “Have a seat, Callie,” Dr. Ploumis said.
    I sat down, looking back and forth from the school psychologist to David.
    “Callie, as you know, there’s been a lot of talk about the article you wrote,” Dr. Ploumis began. “And you know that Katherine is extremely upset.”
    “And what about the rumors about me she’s been spreading?” I asked defensively, since it sounded to me like I was the one who was going to be blamed.
    “Yes, I’ve heard about that, too,” said Dr. Ploumis. “And that’s why I asked David to join us. You’re aware that he’s the peer mediation leader for your class.”
    I wasn’t. Of course, I’d heard of peer mediation, but it was something I’d never taken seriously. To me it sounded like just one more extracurricular activity that