by Elle Casey
I stood there watching him walk off, kind of stunned that he just ended the conversation without any of the normal segues, but then I followed. I’d come all this way, there was just no way I could let it end without getting to the bottom of things.
“I know Jason’s got a really bad rep now, but if you ever want to visit him, I could pick you up and bring you over.”
He said nothing for a while, taking a right turn and then a left one. I had no idea where we were going.
“No thanks.”
“How come?” I had to speed up to keep up with him. “I thought you guys were friends.”
“We are. Or we were. Whatever. I can’t go.”
“Is it your parents? Because I could talk to them.”
“My parents are dead. I live with my grandma, but it’s not her, it’s me.”
“What do you mean, it’s you?”
He started to jog. “I gotta go, okay? Could you stop following me, please?”
I jogged at his side. “No, I can’t just leave you alone. I think Jason misses seeing you and right now he has only me as a friend. He’s lonely. He needs support. I thought you’d want to do that if you were his friend… you know, support him and stuff.”
His feet were slapping the ground, and as I looked down, I noticed what bad shape they were in. They had duct tape around both toes.
“How come you don’t have a pair of those cool red shoes?” I asked.
He stopped running immediately, coming to a complete standstill. I hadn’t been expecting it, so I kept going for a few steps until I realized I was alone.
Stopping to turn around, I caught the expression on his face before he could think to erase it.
Fear.
“What?” I asked. “What’d I say?”
“Why’re you asking me about those goddamn shoes?” He was back to being furious and on the verge of tears.
Obviously I’d hit a nerve, but I had no idea why. Maybe he lost out on a shoe lottery or something. “If you want a pair I’m sure we could get you some.”
“I wouldn’t wear those nasty shoes if they were the last shoes on earth!” he shouted. Spit flew out of his mouth and landed on my arm.
I looked down at it, mystified, confused, and a little bit scared. Something was going on here, and I knew it was big but I had no idea what it was.
“Why are you so angry about some stupid red shoes?” I asked, feeling like an idiot.
His face looked like it was made of brown putty, the way it morphed and changed its shape over and over. His eyebrows pressed in and then drew apart, his mouth pinched and then smoothed, his chin trembled and then folded up, his teeth showed and then disappeared. He was obviously running through just about every emotion a human being can have, all in the space of about five seconds.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” His voice started to crack. “Could you please just leave me alone?” He was openly crying then, and I felt terrible.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I glanced around me worried one of these neighbors was going to call the cops on me. And wouldn’t that be awesome, me being on the news for being a child stalker. Ack! “I’m really, really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I must have looked desperate, because he calmed down a little. “I ain’t crying.” He hiccuped, trying to control his emotions. Swiping his hand over his face, he looked anywhere but at me.
“I know what Jason did was awful, and you hate him for it, but please don’t give up on him.”
The boy shook his head as he gritted his teeth together. He was looking off into the distance for so long, I thought he’d never come back. But then he did and he blew me away with what he said.
“What Jason did … it wasn’t awful.” He turned and looked me right in the eye. “And I don’t hate him. I hate the coach, and I’m glad he’s dead.”
He took off running so fast, and I was so shocked, I didn’t have the energy to chase after him. I watched his back until he disappeared off in the distance.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I COULDN’T WAIT FOR SCHOOL to be over on Monday. As soon as I was done, I hauled buns over to Jason’s house, not even stopping at my house for permission first. This was the first time I’d ever defied my parents’ rule, but it was worth it. They were at work anyway, so they’d never know where I was when I got in touch.
I was standing in Jason’s front hall when I called my mom. “Can I go to Jason’s?”
“Not today. I need you to do some chores at home.”
“What chores? I’ve done all of them … ahead of schedule, I might add.”
Jason stood there giving me a questioning look. There may have been some disapproval there too, but I ignored it.
“There’s a list on the counter. Take a look.”
“Okay fine. If I finish the list can I go over after?”
“You won’t finish the list today. I’ll see you in a couple hours. I left you a snack in the fridge.”
I hung up the phone without responding, rolling my eyes in frustration as I put it away in my bag.
“What’d she say?” Jason asked, scratching at his nasty beard.
“She said I can’t come over today.”
He grinned. “Ooops.”
I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down the hallway.
“Where are we going?” he asked, humoring me.
“To the clubhouse.”
“Uh-oh … sounds serious.”
“It is.”
He stopped and refused to go any farther. “What’s this all about?”
“I’m not saying anything until you’re in the clubhouse, Jason. I’m not kidding, so don’t try the puppy dog eyes on me. It won’t work.”
He leaned his head down and blinked a few times, making his face as cute as he possibly could. The beard was crushing it completely.
I stared at him, expressionless. “Not working.”
He tilted his head another way and tried again.
“Still not working.” I pointed to the garage door. “In the clubhouse or I’m outta here.”
“Threats? We’re down to threats now?”
“Okay, fine. If you go into the garage, I’ll let you kiss me.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’ll what?”
“You heard me. I know you’ve been dreaming about it for months, so you can just get it over with.” I had no idea where this nonsense was coming from, but I ran with it anyway. As usual, my ridiculous sense of humor was enough of a distraction that he forgot to fight me.
He turned around and started walking down the hallway. “I thought we decided we weren’t going to go there.”
“And we aren’t. Just get in the car, would you?”
He stopped just outside the passenger door. “I’ll get in if you promise to kiss me after.”
I grimaced. “If I must.”
He laughed again, opening the door for me. “You have no idea how awesome it is to see that look of disgust on your face.”
“You’re seriously messed up, you know that?” I got in the car and shut the door, waiting for him to go around to his side.
When he got in and shut the door, I turned in my seat to face him. “I met Leo yesterday.”
Jason’s smile disappeared and his jaw dropped open. He looked confused and then cautious. “You what?”
“I met Leo. Your old buddy from the Boys’ Center.”
Jason’s jaw muscle twitched, but it was the only sign I got from him that what I was saying meant anything. Otherwise, he was a cool cat.
“Oh, yeah? How’s he doing?”
“He’s not doing good, actually.”
Jason looked at me closer. “He’s not? Why?”
I shrugged. “You tell me.”
He frowned. “How would I tell you? How would I know? I’m stuck in here.”
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard evasion going on in his tone.
“He shaved his hair off, he doesn’t go to t
he club anymore, and he refuses to wear the red shoes.”
Jason shrugged and stared out the front window. “Did he tell you why he’s done all that? Maybe it’s just random shit that kids do.”
“He didn’t exactly tell me, but he kind of told me some things.”
“Some things like what?” Jason started squeezing the steering wheel over and over. Then he leaned over and started fiddling with the buttons on his radio. The engine wasn’t on, though, so it made no sense to do that. It wasn’t like music was going to start playing.
“He told me you’re still his friend, that you’re fearless …,” I paused, wondering if I should say this part, “ … and that he’s glad the coach is dead.”
Jason’s hand stilled on the volume button. Slowly, his hand retreated and he rested it on the steering wheel. He said nothing for the longest time.
“Did you hear what I said? He’s glad you killed the coach. He’s your friend.”
“Katy?” he said, very softly.
“Yes.”
“I need you to stop.”
I blinked a few times, absorbing what he’d said. I wasn’t sure I understood.
“You want me to stop what? Stop talking?”
“Yes, and I want you to stop talking to Leo and I want you to stop talking about what I did and I want you to stop talking period.” He banged his hand on the steering wheel with the last two words, making me jump.
The old me might have run out of the car and the garage at that loss of temper, but the new me stuck. I knew Jason well enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt me. He was freaking out and trying to intimidate me, but I was too strong for that now.
“Sorry, no can do.” I crossed my arms, maybe a little afraid I was pushing too hard.
He turned his head to face me. His skin above his beard was a mottled red and his mouth was drawn in tight. When he finally spoke, his words blasted out at me.
“Why can’t you just leave things alone?!” He shouted way too loud for inside the car. My ears were ringing from it.
“Because you’re my friend,” I said in a normal tone. “And friends don’t let friends go to prison for something they didn’t do.”
He leaned in close and shouted for all he was worth. “I did it, Katy! I murdered him! I fucking killed him with these hands!” He threw his open hands up into my face, an inch away. “You can’t change that and you can’t make everyone forget how much they loved him! They think I killed a saint!”
“Leo doesn’t!” I screamed back, finally snapping over all the violence. “Leo thinks you’re fearless!!”
Jason grabbed me on either side of my head and pulled me in, slamming his lips into mine. It was the most violent, hairy kiss I’ll ever experience in my life, but I remained still. I let it happen. I let Jason take all his anger and frustration out on me, because I knew he wasn’t hurting me, he was hurting himself. He was the sacrifice.
He pushed me away and looked out the front window. “There. I got my kiss, you said what you wanted to say, now get out.”
“No.” I looked out the front windshield too. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Fine.”
He got out of the car and walked around the back.
I licked a drop of blood off my swollen lip where it had hit my teeth.
“I’m not coming back out here with you,” he said at the door.
“That’s fine.”
“Ever!” he added, stepping through the door.
“That’s fine!” I shouted.
I waited in the car for about ten minutes, but he never did come back. Eventually I left his house and returned home to a chore list obviously designed to keep me away from him for the next few days.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I TRIED TO GO OVER to Jason’s house about five times after that, but he refused to see me. Each time his father answered the door and told me Jason was sleeping, or in the shower, or busy with homework. His expression told me the truth though, that Jason was avoiding me. It cut like a knife, it hurt so much.
He wouldn’t see me in person, but I had hope deep in my heart that he’d still read my emails. Each day I typed out at least one to him, filling him in on what I was doing, how my workouts were progressing at the local gym, how many miles I was logging onto that damn elliptical machine.
He never answered, but that didn’t deter me. When the news of his upcoming trial came into the papers, I told him that I’d be there every day, that I’d skip school and repeat senior year if I had to. Even if he wasn’t going to talk to me, it didn’t make our friendship null and void in my eyes.
The night before his trial was to start, he finally answered me back. I cried for hours after I read what it said.
Dear Katy, You’ve got to stop emailing me. I know you mean well, but our friendship is over. I think it’s best for everyone involved if you don’t come to the trial. I’m glad you’re still working out. You look great and I know it makes you happy to sweat, even if you like to say it doesn’t. Bobby’s your friend and the person you need to be focusing on. Just leave me be. I’ll be fine. — Jason
Chapter Forty-Nine
I SKIPPED SCHOOL TO GO to the opening day of Jason’s trial. I didn’t care that he’d cut me out of his life and told me to go to hell. I’d made a promise to myself that I’d be the kind of friend I’d want to have in this situation and that’s who I was going to be.
Apparently, the first several hours of the day were taken up by selecting a jury, something I wasn’t permitted to see, so I hung around the courthouse until almost eleven before the trial actually started.
The first twenty minutes featured people shuffling papers around and employees of the court coming in and out of a door behind the judge’s bench. Talk about boring. People around me were whispering about how fast the jury selection part had been completed, but it seemed like it took forever to me; hours felt like days in this place. I just wanted everything to hurry up and be over.
I watched Jason steadily for the entire time I sat there, chanting over and over in my head turn around, turn around. But he never did. He whispered to his attorney once in a while, giving me a glimpse of his profile, but he never looked back. It made me so sad to be this close and yet so far away. He might as well have been on an Alaskan cruise.
At least he’d shaved off that nasty beard. I’d been worried that thing would make him look even guiltier, like some kind of crazed mountain man or something. He was back to being too beautiful for his own good. I started to think maybe he should have left his face-snatch on.
The courtroom was loaded with people from the press and a few onlookers, people curious about this boy who’d killed his coach, probably all of them hoping he’d fry. The outcry over the trial no one felt Jason even deserved was beyond just negative. They called it a waste of taxpayer money, that they should short-cut the whole process and let him die just like the coach.
The coach’s wife was there along with two of his three grown sons. When they turned around their red-rimmed eyes practically glowed with pain. When they noticed me, they shot me looks of pure hatred that made me want to shrink down inside myself and disappear.
I guess everyone knew who I was by then. Jason and I were pretty similar in that way; both of us had exactly two friends left in the world. Bobby hadn’t come with me today, but he’d already sent me eight text messages of support. My parents had no idea I was here but there was nothing they could say to keep me away.
When other people noticed the coach’s family hating on me, it seemed to give out some sort of blanket permission for everyone to stare me down. To avoid all their mean looks I kept my eyes focused straight ahead on the back of Jason’s head and his attorney’s sagging shoulders. Jason’s dad was in my line of sight too, sitting in the front row just behind Jason. I could tell he was tense by the way he wouldn’t lean back in his bench seat. His head was bowed and he never moved.
Finally the door behind the bench opened and the judge came out in a black robe. T
he bailiff dressed in a cop’s uniform said in a booming voice, “All rise, the honorable Judge Melanie Radcliff is now presiding.”
I didn’t even have time to get up before she started talking.
“Have a seat,” she said, without even looking at us. She picked up some papers on her desk, put on some reading glasses, and proceeded to ignore the entire room. The power wave she was sending out was palpable. It made me sick to my stomach. I hoped she hadn’t read the papers and already decided Jason was guilty and should be put away for life.
No one spoke. There were sounds of people moving around in their seats, a lady coughing, and camera shutters going off, but that was it.
“No cameras in here,” she said without looking up. She sounded pissed. “You want to illustrate, be my guest, but no photography or filming. If I catch you, you’ll be in contempt and you won’t be welcome in my courtroom for a year.”
I didn’t hear any more cameras after that. This woman apparently scared everyone, not just me.
She finally looked up maybe ten minutes later and addressed the bailiff. “Ralph, please bring the jury in.”
He walked over to a door that was next to the jury seats and knocked on it before opening it. Fourteen people of various ages, sizes, colors, and gender filed out and took their seats in the jury box.
I knew from reading on the court’s website that two of them were alternates, whose opinions about Jason would only matter if one or two of the real twelve jurors were dismissed for any reason. I wondered who they were, but there was no way for me to know.
I searched the jury members’ faces, clothing choices, and body language with eagle eyes, imagining I could determine their character and the way their minds would work during the trial by how they looked to me. Were they fair people? Open-minded? Already set against Jason from things they’d invariably seen on the news?
Jason’s attorney had tried to get the court to move the trial out of town for fear of a tainted jury pool, but his request was denied. I wondered if these people who would decide his fate were football fans or anti-sweating types like I used to be. I wondered if any of them would look at Jason’s perfect face and decide before they even heard a word that he had to be guilty, that a boy that good-looking with that much going for him could never have a valid reason to kill a person.
