Blood on My Hands

coming,” I call, then give Slade one last kiss and whisper, “I love you. And no matter what happens, I’ll always love you.” As I get out of bed, I turn to the door and say, “Just give me one second.”
    “Come on!” Chief Jenkins demands impatiently.
    I pull on my clothes, then turn to Slade. He’s sitting up now, on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he stares at the floor. “Listen,” I whisper, “it’s going to be okay. I swear.”
    The banging on the door grows louder. “Come out now or we break it down!”
    “Okay, I’m coming.” I go to the door and open it. The sun is just rising and some clouds overhead are pink. Chilly ocean air flows in and I have to shield my eyes from the brightness. Chief Jenkins and a police officer in uniform are standing there. The police chief stares at me, then past me at Slade, who’s still on the edge of the bed.
    “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I know I wasn’t supposed to leave the county, but I had to. You can take me back now. It’s okay.” I even turn around with my hands behind me so that he can put on the cuffs.
    But that’s not what happens. I feel him step past me, followed by the uniformed officer, as they go to the bed where Slade sits.
    “Put on some clothes,” Chief Jenkins orders.
    Slade reaches to the floor and starts to pull on his pants.
    The police chief recites, “Slade Lamont, you are being arrested for the murder of Katherine Remington-Day. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”
    Mia picked me up and we went to the kegger, parking in the dark lot beside the baseball field. “I’m glad you’re doing this,” she said. “I mean, I’m glad we’re doing this. You won’t be sorry you came. We’ll have fun.”
    The truth was I was starting to believe her and was looking forward to the party. It had to be better than spending another night at home. We walked into the woods, following voices and glimmers of red cigarette embers. There were probably forty or fifty people there. It was dark and they were mostly just silhouettes, but almost instantly I saw a group of girls. Brianna and Zelda, being tall, stood out. And their presence meant the others no doubt included Katherine and Jodie.
    I stopped, turned to Mia, and whispered, “I thought you said she wasn’t going to be here.”
    “I—I didn’t think she would,” Mia stammered.
    I rolled my eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you are the most unconvincing liar ever?”
    She grinned sheepishly. “Okay, I didn’t want you to stay away because of her. I want you to stand up to her with me.”
    At that point it no longer mattered. Thanks to peer mediation, I’d be not only standing up to Katherine, but face-to-face with her the following Monday.
    Not that we really stood up to her at the kegger anyway. We just didn’t cross paths. After a while, Mia went off, but by then I was hanging out with other kids. She was right. I did have fun … until later, when Dakota came up and said Katherine was missing.
    Standing near the motel-room door, I feel my entire body go rigid. The air leaves my lungs and I can’t seem to find a new breath. I feel a chill all over, then pins and needles, then cold sweat. What are they talking about? What’s going on? I don’t understand. They’ve made a mistake. Slade isn’t the one they want. It’s me they want.
    “Yes,” Slade answers to the police chief’s question about his rights, but he’s not looking at Chief Jenkins. He’s looking at me, his skin pale, his hands shaking as he buckles his pants.
    He pulls on a shirt, but before he can even begin buttoning it, the uniformed officer spins him around and applies handcuffs to his wrists, then takes him by the arm and starts to lead him toward the door. But I can’t let him go. It makes no sense. It’s all wrong! “Wait!” I cry, blocking their path and sliding my arms around Slade’s waist and pressing my cheek against his bare chest. “You’re wrong! He had nothing to do with it!”
    “Let go of him, Callie,” Chief Jenkins says calmly.
    “No!” The cry that leaves my throat comes from the deepest depths of my soul. They can’t arrest Slade! It’s a mistake! I won’t let them! I look up at him, imploring him. “Please! They’re