She sat down on the couch, and I stood there for a second, debating whether to pry or not. Eventually, I took her advice and went for a shower.
* * *
“So, she wouldn’t tell you where she was?”
Michael and I had paired up for our American Lit worksheet, and thanks to the fact that neither of us had social lives now that our friends weren’t speaking to us, we were far ahead of the rest of the class in our reading, making the homework far easier.
“No. And I know it’s probably not a big deal. But there was something about the way she was acting. We’ve always been really open with each other, and I don’t know, it’s a little weird that she doesn’t want to tell me. It kind of irks me.”
“You didn’t tell her about us at first.” He popped a peppermint in his mouth and stuffed the crinkly wrapper in his pocket.
I wriggled a little in my seat. “Well, my dynamic with her has been a little off-balance since the wedding.”
“I’m sure everything’s going to be fine. She’s going through a lot. She was probably out with one of her friends from school.”
He was probably right, but I still worried about her. I just wanted to know that she was taking care of herself. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Lily.
The bell rang, and Michael and I left the classroom, him heading to Pre-Calculus and me heading to Government, but before we went our separate ways, Michael prodded me in the direction of a quiet hallway and pressed his mouth into the crook of my neck, and I giggled, partly because I was ticklish there and partly because this wasn’t the first time that Michael had gotten cozy with me in the halls.
Between us, my phone vibrated, two short vibrates that told me it was a text message. Michael pretended not to notice and continued to kiss my neck while I dug my phone out of my pocket.
Did you see this? the text from Lily read, and I put a hand on Michael’s chest to get him to back up before I opened the article she had attached. Michael looked down at the phone now between us, his face immediately concerned when he saw the headline:
SALEM SWIMMER SENTENCED AFTER STEROID USE
“Oh my God.”
Michael took the phone from me when I was done reading the article and read it for himself while I stood there. I stared down at the tile that stretched between the girls’ bathroom and the boys’ and tried not to throw up.
“This is him, isn’t it?” Michael asked after a long moment. “This is your friend; the one that stood you up?”
“Harris.” This couldn’t be real. Harris? Using steroids? The article said he’d been kicked off the team, been suspended, and could even face time in a juvenile detention center.
It was like reading about a stranger. In my head, I tried to reconcile the person that the article painted, a star athlete fallen from grace, with my best friend, the boy who skipped class to make out with his girlfriend, the boy who half-assed everything he did so he wouldn’t look uncool by caring too much. Harris wouldn’t do this. It had to be someone else.
“It’s not true,” I said just as the bell rang.
Michael watched for a second as a stray kid rushed to whatever class he was late for before turning back to me. He pressed his hands into my shoulders. “Kate, hey. We’ll figure this out, okay? Whatever it is. We’ll figure it out. Go to Government, okay? I’ll come get you after.”
I tried to focus on what he was saying, but everything was a little muffled, a little blurry. The world felt like it was opening up underneath me.
“Kate.” Michael put his hands on either side of my face, and when I met his eyes, the world seemed to come back into focus. “Go to class, okay?”
I nodded, and he tucked my phone into the side compartment of my backpack before we separated.
I tried to focus in Government, but I couldn’t think straight. Harris had tested positive for steroids, he’d been kicked off the swim team, he was facing real charges, and just thinking about it made me want to be sick.
I pulled out my phone and turned on the screen under my desk, but when I opened up a new text to Harris, I didn’t know what to say.
Eighteen
After school, I tried to call Harris. Not once, not twice, but seven times. He never answered. I’d heard his voice mail message seven times, and I was tired of the robotic tone of his voice. “Why isn’t he answering his phone? What is he doing? How is this even happening?”
Michael’s eyes followed me from one side of my bedroom to the other, back and forth while I tried to figure out how I was going to get more information about Harris. He hadn’t answered his cell phone and neither had April, his girlfriend, and now here I was, completely unsure of what to do. I felt like a bird that someone had tossed into a cage, pecking at the bars. I thought about trying to call him again, but as long as I didn’t call him, I could pretend he would pick up the phone when I actually did.
“Maybe you should sit down.”
“I can’t sit down.” I knew Michael couldn’t understand. I had to talk to Harris. I had to get the story from a reliable source, not some online newspaper that called Harris a star pupil. I needed to hear him deny it, needed to hear his voice.
I stopped pacing. Michael was sitting on my bed, his hands twisted in the comforter, his eyes full of concern.
“I have to go see him.”
Michael got off the bed and came to stand in front of me, effectively blocking my path. “Wait, you’re going to go?”
“I have to. I can’t just stay here while this is happening. I need to see him.” I went back to my phone, considering texting him to let him know that I would be coming to Salem but deciding against it. If he was going to run away from me, I would just have to catch him off guard. The article had said he’d failed the test the previous week. Days had gone by, and he hadn’t told me. I wasn’t about to let him get away with it again.
Michael’s eyes fell to the phone in my hand. “Maybe that’s not such a great idea.”
The hand holding my phone dropped to my side. “Why not?”
His hands came up to grab my hips, and I tried not to be distracted by it. In the living room, through the open bedroom door, I could hear my mother and Lily talking about something in hushed voices. I wanted to curl up in a ball in my closet and not come out until this had all gone away. But I couldn’t. Because I had to know the truth.
“You’re not in a great emotional state right now. You shouldn’t drive all the way to Salem like this.”
“Michael, I can’t just not go, okay?” I put a hand on his plaid-covered chest. The warmth of his skin beneath the fabric made the world quiet down just a little.
Michael’s eyes shifted to the door and then to me. “Why don’t you let me go with you?”
Bringing Michael along just didn’t seem like a good idea. Michael was Portland and salsa dancing and the taste of peppermints; Harris was Salem and swim meets and childish jokes. They wouldn’t mix well.
“It’s okay. I should go alone. He’s more likely to want to talk if it’s just me.”
“Kate.” Michael caught my attention again. My mind was drifting in and out of the room, unable to stay grounded. “Maybe just sleep on it. Let things die down a little, and then you can go see whoever you want. Just take a breather, okay? This is a lot to process. You’re too upset to drive all the way to Salem tonight. Especially alone.”
I didn’t meet his eyes, entirely certain that nothing he could say would keep me in Portland while Harris was suffering. But he was looking at me with those desperate eyes, so I said what I knew he wanted to hear. “Okay.”
He leaned forward to kiss me gently, and his phone rang. He shut his eyes for a second. “That’s Ben. I forgot I told him I’d hang out with him tonight. I’ll cancel.” He was already reaching for his phone.
“No, don’t do that. Hang out with him. I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t staying here, but I didn’t want Michael to know I was going. He would worry about me, and I didn’t want to be another burden on him.<
br />
He scowled at me. “I want to stay here with you. I can see Ben anytime.”
Something stirred in my stomach. I’d never lied to Michael. Not even when it had probably made sense to. And lying to him now—it made guilt claw at my chest. “Hang out with Ben,” I told him, pulling away to sit on my bed. “I’ll probably just watch TV or something. No big deal. It’s okay.”
He stayed where he was, looking awkward in the middle of my room. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, feigning confidence. I just needed him to leave. I needed to separate him from this drama. “Yeah.”
He hesitated still. “Okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
He kissed my cheek and disappeared. I waited until I heard the door open and close, and then I went to find my mom and Lily in the living room. They were still huddled on the couch, in the same spots they’d been in since I came home.
My mother shot upright. “Are you hungry?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned in the direction of the kitchen, and I was forced to follow her. I knew she and Lily had heard Michael and me talking. It was written all over their faces.
“Actually, no. Do you think I could borrow the car tonight?”
My mother shut the fridge without taking anything out of it and came to stand in front of me. “Katherine, you can’t go out there. I’m sure Harris and his family have a lot on their plate right now without you getting in the middle of it.”
I ground my teeth together. “I need to know what really happened, okay? Harris will talk to me. I know he will. I just need to see him.”
She chewed on her lip, her eyes flitting over her shoulder and back again. “If you think this is the right thing to do…”
Lily had joined us in the kitchen. She leaned against the counter. “Sis, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but maybe Michael’s right. Maybe you should sleep on it and—”
I cut her off. “I’m going.”
* * *
Harris’s family lived on a huge piece of land almost half an hour from the aquatics center, a gated estate that I’d coveted, even though we’d lived in a house almost as big. Even with enough square footage for the entire family to live out their daily lives without ever bumping into each other, Harris’s house had always been warm and cozy, full of noise and light.
I pulled up behind Mr. Monroe’s BMW and threw open my door. In the past, I might have stayed right there in their driveway, setting up camp on the roof of the car until Harris realized I was out there and came to join me. Or I might have bypassed the house altogether and gone for the pool around back, jumping in without invitation or permission.
But this time, I rushed to the front door and knocked before backing up and looking up at Harris’s window. I couldn’t see in, but I was hoping to see movement—anything that might indicate whether he was home or not.
I heard the front door crack open, but it wasn’t Harris who stepped out onto the porch to greet me. It was his mother.
“He’s not here.” She wrapped her arms around herself against the chill and looked at me with tired eyes. Her face had lines of exhaustion mapped across it that she hadn’t bothered to try to conceal with makeup.
I felt my heart squeeze at her words. “Do you know where he is?”
Her chin began to quiver and she shook her head. “He’s barely shown his face since everything happened. He’s been staying at friends’ houses, taking off without telling anyone. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
I wanted to sympathize with her. My heart ached for the kind woman who had always had encouraging words and a warm meal for me, but I didn’t have time to console her. I had to find Harris, and if I had to scour the entirety of Salem, I would.
“He might have gone to the meet.”
I had already turned to get back in my car, but I spun back around at her words. “There’s a meet tonight?”
She nodded. “Do you think he would do that? Do you think he would go after everything that’s happened?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m going to find out.” I jogged to my mom’s car and slammed the door shut behind me.
* * *
The aquatics center was packed. With competition season creeping closer, everyone wanted a piece of the action. I parked in the back and made a run for the entrance, knowing in the back of my mind that there was no hurry, but not finding Harris at home had only added to my anxiety.
Inside, the meet was already under way. The starting shot sounded, followed by splashes as the swimmers dove in, then cheering and whistling, but it all seemed to fade into the background as I walked into the room. My eyes went to the pool first, where a butterfly was taking place, a butterfly that Harris wasn’t swimming in, but I couldn’t help myself. I watched for a second as one swimmer pulled ahead, and just as the rest of the swimmers hit the wall, I saw my father standing on the sideline, shouting and clapping his hands in that loud, slow way that didn’t mean a celebration of accomplishment. It meant I’m in charge, and I’m telling you to go faster.
I pulled my eyes away and walked by the starting blocks to get to the stands.
“Kate!”
I ignored my father’s voice, louder than anything else in the room, even though some of the faces in the stands were turning toward us now. I looked at each of them, praying that I’d see Harris’s face, even if it didn’t make sense.
“Kate!”
I put a hand on the rail to step onto the stands, but a hand wrapped around my upper arm, pulling me to a halt. I spun around and yanked my arm away from my dad’s grip. “What do you want?” I demanded, aware that more eyes were turning to us from the stands and the sidelines.
“I want to talk to you about why your name isn’t on the roster for the 6A program.”
“I’m not here to talk to you.” I really didn’t have time to discuss swimming when there were more important things to deal with. I turned back to take another step up into the stands, but he stopped me again.
“If you’re looking for Harris, he’s not here.”
I sighed. Of course he wasn’t. “Great.” I rushed past him to leave. I wasn’t interested in staying there so that he could make matters worse, but he followed me, waiting until I was almost to the door before calling out to me again.
“Kate, you need to talk to me about what’s going on. I’m not going to just let you throw away all the hard work I’ve done—”
At that, I spun around, my hands in fists because I thought I might hit him. “The hard work you did? What about all the hard work I did?”
He clenched his jaw, and when he didn’t say anything, with both of us watching to see who would break first, I turned to leave again. “I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
“I’m your father,” he said, following me out into the lobby. “You’ll make time.”
“Just leave me alone!” I shouted so loudly that the girls at the front desk stopped talking to watch us. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Will it help if I tell you I quit the team? Will you leave me alone then?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “That’s a lie. You’re just saying that to hurt me.”
I growled, a frustrated sound at the back of my throat. I couldn’t believe that I had been afraid to tell him, that I had been afraid of disappointing him. “Not everything is about you. I don’t care about hurting you. If you don’t believe me, call Coach Wu. She loves telling everyone that I’m a quitter.”
His face was beginning to purple, the veins in his neck popping out to say hello. “Oh, I’ll call her, all right. I’ll call her to tell her you’ll be training again before the month is out and that you’ll be ready in time for District.”
I laughed. “You don’t have a say in it anymore, Dad.”
“Is this because of Harris?” He planted his hands on his hips, and I could see his fingernails turning white. “That boy wasted my time, made me look incompetent, made this team take a h
it that they didn’t deserve, and now you’re going to let his decisions derail your future?”
“This isn’t about him!” I shouted. I didn’t know how else to make him listen. “This is about you. This is about the fact that you took everything from me: my life, my home, my friends. You’re toxic to everything you touch. I trusted you, and you threw me and Mom and Lily into the dirt. You’re nothing to me now, and I’m not going to let you drag me back into your one-man show and pretend you’re doing it for me.” When I was done shouting, the lobby went silent, the girls at the desk watching us with wide eyes and my father’s chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.
He shook his head, his face now something akin to pale. “Kate, I didn’t mean to—”
I put up a hand to stop him. I didn’t want to hear him. I had let him manipulate me for so long, sacrificed everything I wanted to make him proud, and I was done. “Doesn’t matter.” I inched away from him toward the door. “Doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”
* * *
I didn’t know where else to go. I drove up and down the highway, trying to imagine where I would go if I were in Harris’s place. My body was starting to ache from being curled up in the driver’s seat for so long, and my head was hurting from my brain moving a million miles an hour.
And then, as I was driving down a strip of service road a few miles from Harris’s house, I spotted the park. Harris and I used to jog to that park, which was mostly just a jungle gym, a grassy hill, and a baseball field. Sometimes we’d take his dog, Boomer, with us and let him off his leash to run circles, always getting a home run.
The park was completely empty, the sun pretty much gone, and the sky bleeding from blue to pink. The lights shone brightly down onto it, and I could see straight across the hill to the houses on the other side, the lights in their kitchens on, preparing dinner.
I walked to the dugout and sat down, pulling my feet up onto the bench with me. I tucked my arms tight around myself and set my head on the chain-link fence beside me. I breathed in the cold air and wished I’d never come here. I could have been at home, watching dancing shows with Lily or acting as the third-wheel on Ben and Michael’s man date. I could have been in bed, reading Fahrenheit 451. But instead, I was here, miles away from home, alone in the dark with no clue where to go next.
How to Breathe Underwater Page 21
