Before, I had felt known in Glennon Heights. But now I felt noticed. In front of us, the boys’ backs receded into the crowd and Ben didn’t turn to pass along a reassuring look to his sister, let alone me. Janie’s eyes darted and skidded around the corridor, and then I saw her take a deep breath and settle into the invisible spotlight. She smiled at the friends I pointed out and even waved to the coffee shop guys from the night before. I should never have doubted Janie.
She even handled Brooke. First period. World History. The three of us shared that class together, and I’d forgotten, along with so many other details that a good friend would know or remember. Brooke had been right about that. This time, Janie didn’t wait for me to broker a connection.
“Listen,” she told Brooke, “I’m sorry that we didn’t get to know each other better this summer.” She took the desk next to Brooke’s, leaving me to claim one across the room, near the door. “Moving felt like the worst wrong turn of my life. And then just when things started feeling normal, those letters started arriving.”
I wanted to shout at her to stop, to remind her that Brooke had achieved expert level in social manipulation. But the whole class had tuned in, listening. I bit my lip and waited. Brooke would deploy one of two options—she could go nuclear and unleash an onslaught of insults. Most of us, in that room, expected her to go that route.
But she had already done that—to me, the night before. Today was our first day of high school, after all. Maybe Brooke intended to transform herself a little bit too. “It sounds terrible—what you’ve gone through.” The room held its collective breath. But she only went on to say, “You’re pretty killer, taking on some crazy psychopathic letter writer. But at least your new place is amazing. I always thought it would make the best haunted house.”
“Well, you should come over. We already found one hidden room.” Janie spoke loudly enough to include the rest of the class in her conversation. “Liv found it, actually.” Janie crowned me with the credit. “We’ll keep looking and see what we uncover. We should have the Halloween party to end all Halloween parties.”
“That would be incredible.” Brooke sounded sincere, and when she looked up, her smile extended to me too. “I’ve really missed hanging out on Olcott Place.”
Sometimes I got so wrapped up in wondering how I fit into the world, I forgot that there were people I fit with.
“Well,” I offered, “Olcott Place misses you too.”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you. I don’t know about people like Miss Abbot. But she probably misses you.”
Brooke and I smiled at each other, and Janie smiled, and for that moment and the rest of the class and even the rest of the school day, it seemed like maybe I could handle high school. I moved from class to class—sometimes with Janie, sometimes with Brooke. With Allie and Mirabelle and Kaia. With both Heathers and Sage and even an art class with Justin, who said to me, “You’re Janie’s friend, right?” as if that counted as my identity.
A couple of times throughout the day, I caught a glimpse of Ben. A sliver of jacket sleeve turning a corner. The back of his head bobbing down the steps a full crowd in front of me. I had thought that would make me nervous, but actually it reassured me. Unlike summer days, when Ben disappeared from his family for hours at a time, at least I knew he was in the same building, on the same patch of land.
My mom texted me a couple of times. First a heart. Then a question mark. I wrote back, I’m handling it. But that first day felt even better than that. All that worrying, but high school made sense to me. I had friends. I felt connected.
And then the dismissal bell rang. I stood up, swung my bag over my shoulder. By the time I reached our locker, Janie already stood waiting. “Do you need to stay after?” she asked. “My dad’s on his way.” She looked down, texting Lucy and Ben. I couldn’t get our combination on the first try, so I tried the numbers once more. Fumbled again—this time because Ben distracted me. He strode through the hallway, cutting a path through the rest of the freshmen milling around.
“Janie, we’ve got to go. Right now.”
“Yeah. I’m just—”
“Lucy’s already outside. We have to go to her.”
“What’s going on?” Janie looked at me. “Just give us a second, okay?”
“No time. Listen, Livvie. You should stay here, okay? Can you call your mom and grab a ride with her?”
“No, Ben. She cannot.” Janie slammed on the locker. “Liv, don’t pay any attention to him. There’s plenty of room.” She turned to her brother. “Seriously, what is your problem?”
“Guys, I’m serious. I can’t explain it right now, but it would be better if Olivia found another ride.”
“Stop it.” Janie swung her backpack over her shoulder. “I guess things didn’t go so decently for you today? I’m really sorry, Ben. We had a good first day of high school, right, Liv? Like surprisingly acceptable.”
“Please just listen to me.” Ben spoke quietly in the few spaces left in Janie’s chatter. She kept going and I followed her. I’d already been following Janie for weeks by then. Why would I have chosen that exact moment to stop?
“Do you have a lot of homework? I don’t. We have that summer reading essay thing, but she said it’s due next Tuesday.” Janie barely took a breath as we worked our way through the hallway.
“Jane.” Ben’s voice rang out in a warning. Janie and I swiveled to face him. People in the hall turned as well. He crossed quickly to us and spoke low and fast. “When we get outside, we stick together, okay?” He held up his hands: no questions. “You keep your head down. No matter what anyone says to you, you don’t reply. You don’t even look up.” He glanced from Janie to me and then to her again. “I guess that goes for both of you.”
Ben turned to walk backward, facing us, and bumped open the door with his backpack. We all stood for a second blinking up at the sun and then Ben took one of each of our shoulders, steering us firmly.
I kept my head down, like Ben had instructed, and that’s when I saw the wires snaking around the sidewalk. Then I noticed the feet wore men’s dress shoes, women’s heels. Too fancy, even for the first day of high school. “Maurice! That’s them. Three kids. The Donahues!” She lunged to block Ben’s path and he tried steering us around her.
In a flash, I understood how I’d made the situation more difficult. The reporter lady thought I was Lucy, who’d probably been smart enough to walk out separately. They had been looking for three kids and there we were.
“Just a minute. Please. Hey, guys! Look over here for a second? Can we get a statement?” I felt Ben’s fingers tightened on my shoulder. “How long have you felt unsafe in your home?”
Then another voice, “Your father has claimed your family is being hunted.” Beside me, I heard Ben grunt softly. Heads down, we kept walking. There were only three of them, plus their cameramen, but they caused such a commotion, it felt like a full press conference.
“Who do you think is watching your family?”
Ben looked directly at the reporter asking that question. She stood the tallest and didn’t seem so much older than us. Aunt Jillian would have described her as looking a little desperate, with all the makeup and her hair piled high on top of her head.
Encouraged by the eye contact, the woman repeated her question. “Who is watching your family?”
When Ben lifted his arm from my shoulder, I half expected him to hit the reporter. But he just gestured to the cameras. “You are, I guess.” Ben spoke deliberately, like he knew they’d use that quote over and over. That night and the weeks after. “You’re watching my family now.”
As soon as we spotted Mr. Donahue’s car, we hustled to it and found Lucy crouched in the front passenger seat. Ben opened the door and held it as Janie and I climbed inside. Behind us, we heard the reporters vie breathlessly for attention. “Mr. Donahue, sir, can we get a comment on the situation with your new home?”
I turned to see Ben shaking his head even as his dad
rolled down his window. “No comment,” Mr. Donahue declared. And then he pressed a button so the window rose up.
When I tried to buckle my seat belt, I noticed my hands shaking and looked up at Ben to see his jaw set rigid in anger. When he spoke, his barely contained rage flared at his father. “Why not comment? I mean, you called them, right?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And you’re emotional.”
“Yeah—I’m a little emotional. So is Janie. And Olivia, who is trembling and has absolutely nothing to do with this circus. Did you think about any of us, Dad? Lucy, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I’m certainly not overreacting.” Lucy glanced up at her dad.
“Oh no. It’s not overreacting—” Ben started.
But Lucy cut him off. “I would think you’d be used to scenes like that.”
That jab landed. Ben grimaced and spat out, “Great job, sis. Now you get to be the favorite.”
But Lucy only laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’ve always been the favorite.”
Next to me, Janie stared out the window.
“Just to be clear,” Mr. Donahue said, “I have no idea how the press got ahold of our story. Your mother and I filed a lawsuit at the courthouse this morning. There must be some kind of case log reviewed by the local news.” Mr. Donahue looked back at me. “Olivia, I apologize that you got caught up in that. I thought you might have cross-country practice after school.”
“Not on the first day.” My voice came out in a whisper. Even that embarrassed me.
Ben was not ready to let the matter go. “Well, they sure got people out to our school pretty fast. You know, for a local news story.”
“It’s compelling stuff. They’re just doing their job—bringing news to the people.” Mr. Donahue hit his blinker and we turned onto Olcott Place. Behind us, two vans turned too. “I will be honest; press doesn’t hurt us. We’re not the ones with anything to hide. And unfortunately, people sometimes need to be forced to do the right thing. Harrington’s will settle faster if their reputation is on the line.”
“And the Langsoms?”
“The Langsoms will take care of the Langsoms. They had every opportunity to disclose those letters. Don’t ask me to feign sympathy for a family who willingly put my family in danger. My children.”
Ben snorted.
“We understand, Dad,” Lucy said, looking back at Ben as if she dared him to say different. “It’s just that we were all nervous already about starting a new school.”
“I hear that. As I said before, I have absolutely no idea how they knew to go up to the high school this afternoon. But you handled yourselves with maturity and grace. All of you. I could not be more proud. We have the police investigating these letters, and if the press wants to add to the pressure, I can only think that will lead to a break in the case.” Mr. Donahue pulled the car into the drive. The vans behind us parked on the street in front of their house. “Who cares if we’re on the local news? There’s no reason to feel ashamed that people are paying attention to what happens in their community. We are not the criminals here.”
“Really?” Lucy asked. “Ben doesn’t count as a criminal anymore?”
“Lucybelle,” Mr. Donahue admonished. “Let’s remember that we’re all on the same team.” And then, as if he suddenly remembered that I didn’t exactly qualify, Mr. Donahue met my eyes. “Olivia, if I had dropped you off, those vans would have just parked at your house. I didn’t want to compromise your family’s privacy.”
Another snort from Ben, but I said “Thank you” in a politely firm way that would have made my mother proud.
“Here’s how we’ll handle this. Lucy, Ben, and Janie, when you get out of the car, I want you to go straight to the house. Have your keys out and ready. Olivia, I’m sure your parents are eager to hear about your first day. You should take the opportunity to walk directly and briskly to your home. Any reporters will have focused their attention on the kids and our house.”
“Olivia can’t come over?” Janie seemed to suddenly wake up.
“Why would Olivia want to come over?” Ben asked, and I thought that he possibly didn’t understand me at all.
But it’s not like I could sit there and argue. “Your dad’s right. I mean, my mom wants me home. I’m sure she’s dying to hear how everything went.”
“Maybe she saw some of it on TV!” Ben spoke with fake cheer.
“Call me if you need me,” I told Janie.
“Everyone ready? Let’s give it a count of three. And don’t worry—I’ll step in, if needed, and make a short statement. That will buy us all enough time to get inside.”
“Dad, that’s really selfless of you.” I could hear the disdain in Ben’s voice.
But Mr. Donahue didn’t take the bait. “Ready? One. Two. Three.” He popped the trunk and the rest of us opened our doors. I slid out Janie’s side, squeezed her shoulder, grabbed my backpack, and headed home.
Behind me, I heard the surge of cameras and questions. Not a tidal wave or anything, but still. I walked briskly, my head bent, ready to muscle my way past. But no one noticed me.
“We hope to resolve this situation quickly and fairly.” Mr. Donahue carefully enunciated his words. “If any of you have kids, I’m sure you know that my only concern is for their safety. My wife feels the same. We love our new community. But we never imagined that purchasing our dream home would put the lives of our children in danger.” From my own steps, I could see him preening. “Thank you. We will have no further comment at this time.” And then Mr. Donahue stepped back into the house and the heavy black door of 16 Olcott seemed to swallow him up.
I waited on the steps while the camera guys wound up their cords and the reporters compared notes. No one appeared worried about being scooped. “You guys using this?” one of the women reporters asked the other.
That one shrugged. “We’ll see how it reads.”
“It’s going to read as canned.”
They chuckled. “You can’t make this stuff up.”
“Maybe you can.” The two reporters laughed. But I still didn’t understand the joke. It took my mom and Aunt Jillian to explain that some people believed that Mr. Donahue had concocted the whole thing.
“Adults don’t always make the right choices,” Jillian told me later after dinner. She’d rushed right over after we were on the local news. Or, rather, the Donahue family and a sliver of my shoulder and backpack were on the news.
“The whole thing baffles me, Jill,” Mom said. “What’s the point of the press at the school? Why not just hold court in his driveway?”
“It reinforces the idea that the kids are young and vulnerable.” Aunt Jillian spoke with an unfamiliar authority. My eyes must have widened because she laughed. “If there’s one thing I know well, Olivia, it is the bizarre and brainless behavior of man-children. I know you feel close to Janie and her brother, but their father definitely qualifies as a man-child.” Another, darker look washed over her face. “Speak of the devil.” She crossed over to stare out our window.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” My mother sighed. “As if we needed any more drama today.”
The drama she spoke of had arrived in the form of Ned McGovern, who had started yelling at Janie’s house even before he’d finished slamming his car door. “Donahue! Donahue! Gavin Donahue, get out here.”
“Well, this promises to be a regular meeting of the minds,” my dad said dryly.
“Oh no,” Jillian murmured.
“This is not your circus, Jill.”
“I know, I know. But there are kids involved. Are those two even supposed to be in contact? Isn’t there a restraining order in place?”
“Not for Ned.” I spoke up before realizing that none of them wanted to know I knew about that stuff. Three sets of concerned eyes narrowed at me at once. “That’s just what I’ve overheard anyway.”
The drama played on, right outside our window. Ned McGovern first stood on the Donahues’ lawn and then he c
harged up the steps. “Come on out and face me like a man!” he yelled, pounding the door with his fist. “Donahue!”
My dad sighed. “Should I go out and talk to him?”
My mom bit her lip and peered out. “I think we should stay out of it for now.” She raised her arms up, reached over, and shut the open windows, immediately muffling the sound of Ned’s shouting. Mom’s eyes flickered to my dad as if she expected him to argue. “It’s a shame those reporters left. They’re missing a story.”
“Ned McGovern causing a scene on someone else’s front yard doesn’t exactly count as newsworthy,” Dad replied. Aunt Jillian cringed but didn’t argue. “Olivia, don’t you have homework or something?”
“It’s the first day,” I answered, without peeling my eyes from the window.
“And that means?”
“No one gives homework the first day.” While my dad focused on my scholastic endeavors, Aunt Jillian grabbed the opportunity to head out the front door. Presumably, she figured she’d try to calm Ned before the police made their now daily pilgrimage to Olcott Place.
“Jill! We just talked about this!” Mom called after her. “Honestly!” She looked at us helplessly.
Outside the scene unfolded like a movie with the sound turned off. I watched my aunt march toward Ned as he kept pounding on the Donahues’ front door. When she reached him, Jillian grabbed Ned’s wrist mid-swing and he spun around to face her.
I could tell my dad thought Ned might hit her. He tensed up and headed to the door. Ned gestured to the Donahue house and I saw Jillian shake her head furiously. She tugged at his arm, pulling him toward his car. Just as she reached over and opened the driver’s-side door, her head swung up and Mr. McGovern started struggling against her all over again. That’s when Dad arrived, leaving our front door gaping open, with me and Mom right there to hear.
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