Very Bad Things

by Susan McBride

  His breath came noisily. It had ever since the fire. He’d breathed in so much smoke his lungs were probably as scarred as his skin. No matter how he looked, how he sounded, he didn’t scare Tessa. He never had. Why should he when he was the reason she’d lived? If not for him, she wouldn’t be here. She’d be buried in the Barnard cemetery along with her adoptive parents and a boy whose name she’d never even known.

  At first when Mark saw Charlie, he thought his friend was dead.

  He lay so still beneath the white sheet. His skin was beyond pale, like all the blood had been drained from him. He had tubes in his nose for oxygen and an IV taped to his wrist that dripped fluids into his veins.

  According to the school’s doctor, Charlie had taken a shit-ton of Ambien. They didn’t think he’d make it at first. Thank God his roommate found him soon after and called the clinic. They’d brought him in and pumped his stomach. He’d flatlined at one point, and they had to paddle his chest, but his heart had started beating again.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” the doctor said, patting Mark on the back, “though he’ll feel like hell when he wakes up.”

  Mark didn’t even know his dad was at the clinic until he heard his voice. “They’re moving him to the hospital in Barnard when he’s a little more stable. Dr. Capello’s sticking around to help him deal with things when he wakes up. The police will want to talk to him, too, but not tonight.”

  “The police?” Mark pulled his gaze away from Charlie’s face. “Because he tried to kill himself?”

  “He left you a note,” his father said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of folded paper. “This is a copy, sorry. The police wanted the original. He’s been keeping secrets, Mark. About you and Steve Getty and that poor girl Rose. He makes it clear you’re not to blame.”

  “You read it?” Mark took the page from his dad, feeling sad and angry at once.

  “It was with him when he was found. We needed to know if it explained why. I just wish he’d come forward sooner,” his father said.

  Then he left Mark alone to read the letter.

  I’m sorry, Summers, because I wasn’t honest with you. When you asked if I knew anything about that night, I should have told you the truth. But you were right. I was scared, too scared to talk. That asshole Getty was holding something over my head. He had pictures, video, of me with another guy. I know, I should have told you. You wouldn’t have cared, right? But not everyone’s that cool with having a gay teammate. Getty knew I was afraid that word would spread and Minnesota would pull my scholly. “What college would recruit a fag? This is hockey, not ballet,” he said, and he was right. Fuck it, but he was right. So I kept quiet. I should have told you that you didn’t have anything to do with Rose dying. You were out cold the whole time. Steve wouldn’t tell me what he slipped you, but he gave you something. He took pictures of you with the girl. That’s how he controls people. If he can’t get them to look bad on their own, he does it for them. Rose was already high on X and Getty gave her more. He said she started choking on her own puke and OD’d right there on the floor. He put your chain around her neck so if they blamed anyone, they’d blame you. He wanted to leave her there so they’d find her with you. But I couldn’t do it.

  After the other guys left, when Getty took the blonde home, I carried her down to the basement. I put her in that back room with the old furnace. I meant to tell you what happened in the morning when you woke up. But she was gone, dude. I swear, she was gone. I thought Steve had come back. I thought he took her. But he was pissed at me for moving her. I screwed up his plan.

  He swore he didn’t cut off her hand. He said he didn’t know where she was, and I believe him. He looked afraid, not knowing where she’d gone to. I was pretty freaked out, too.

  But then she was found and the cops were all over you. I’m sorry, man, I should’ve been brave. I should have told Steve to go to hell. But I didn’t, and I’ve hated myself ever since. I hope you forgive me someday. I let you down, bro. I let myself down, too.

  Charlie

  Mark’s hands shook as he finished. He glanced at Charlie’s face, at the crooked nose that had been broken and never set, and he thought of how they’d grown up together at Whitney. He thought of all the times they’d studied for exams, all the hockey they’d watched and the games they’d played. And still Charlie hadn’t come to him before he tried to take his own life. It made no sense.

  He leaned over his friend and gazed at his eyes closed in sleep, wishing he’d known. Wishing Charlie had talked to him. He couldn’t imagine a secret worth anybody’s life.

  “Charlie,” he whispered. “They’ll get him, man. They’ll put him away. He won’t be a threat anymore, not to you, not to me, not to anyone.”

  Charlie’s eyelids fluttered.

  Mark bent closer. “You awake? You need the doctor?”

  “Steve,” Charlie breathed.

  Mark nodded down at him. “Yeah, Steve’s going down, dude. You don’t need to worry about him.”

  “No,” Charlie exhaled, and wet his lips. “He’s mad … at Katie.…”

  “Steve’s mad at Katie? Why?”

  “Joelle,” Charlie got out in a whisper, then his eyes slipped closed again.

  Mark squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Sweet.” Charlie went back to sleep.

  The fluid dripped into the IV. Oxygen gently hissed. Charlie’s chest rose and fell. He was clearly out of it.

  Mark stood up slowly, his heart thudding. He had the letter in his hand, and he had to tell Katie. She’d come into the clinic with him and the psychiatrist but had hung back in the waiting room. He didn’t see her there now. Instead, Joelle was thumbing through an old magazine. When she saw him, she stood up.

  “Is Charlie okay?” she asked.

  Mark nodded. “He will be. He saw what happened, Jo.” He raised the hand that held the letter. “He said the girl OD’d when she was with Steve. It wasn’t me.”

  “I’m glad.” Joelle’s usually perfectly made-up face had smudges beneath the eyes and streaks down her cheeks where she’d wiped away tears. “Steve’s about to get hit with a big damn stick,” she said, and let out a sad laugh. “I already told him I’m not staying quiet any longer … about what he did to me. It wasn’t what you thought,” she said, shaking her head, and the tears starting falling. “I’m ready to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, Jo. I really am.” Mark didn’t know what else to say. He felt awful that he hadn’t listened to her.

  “I told Steve that Katie was right. If someone didn’t speak up and make him stop, he’d do it again. There’d be another me, another Rose.”

  “You told Steve Katie said that?”

  Joelle nodded. “Yeah. That girl’s got balls, you know. She’s not the mousy mouse I thought.”

  “Where is she?” Mark asked, looking around but not seeing Katie anywhere.

  “She was heading out just when I got here,” Jo told him. “She nearly ran into me. She got a text from Tessa, and she was all worked up about it. She said it was weird, that it wasn’t Tessa’s number, but I told her about Tessa pissing off the headmaster and being put on lockdown at the dorm. I heard they took her phone.”

  Mark remembered Katie mentioning Tessa’s “confession” about him calling her the night Rose died and saying that he did it. Yeah, he was sure that would have pissed off his dad enough to have Mrs. Gabbert sit on Tessa for a while. But now his father knew the truth. He couldn’t wait to show Katie Charlie’s note. Then she’d realize that her buddy Tessa had been lying through her teeth.

  He speed-dialed Katie’s number. “C’mon, pick up,” he said, as it rang and rang before finally going to voice mail. “Where are you?”

  Then he texted her, asking the same question.

  But she didn’t answer.

  Mark felt his gut twist, and he suddenly thought of something Katie had said when he’d found her staring at Peter Lupinski’s grave.
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  I think Tessa’s trying to protect someone. It’s crazy, but I was wondering if—Never mind … I’m not sure who it is or what Tessa’s up to, but I’m worried.

  Who was Tessa protecting? Could it be Steve? Was that why Katie had mentioned that what she was thinking was crazy?

  Charlie had whispered something about Steve being mad at Katie. Was it because she’d been stirring things up?

  He walked away from Joelle, heading toward the exit. As soon as the sliding glass doors parted before him, he took off running toward Amelia House.

  Dusk had descended, and streetlights dotted the dark overhead as he sprinted. The path across campus was almost empty. Mark was winded by the time he reached Amelia House, but he didn’t slow down to catch his breath. He didn’t even stop when he saw the security guard getting out of the campus police car across the street. Mark’s feet kept moving till he reached the door.

  “Katie!” He started banging the door with his fists. “Katie!”

  “Hold on there,” the guard called out, one hand on his stun gun and the other tapping his shoulder walkie-talkie.

  But Mark kept banging until the housemother opened the door.

  “For heaven’s sake, what’s going on?” The older woman frowned at him.

  “I need to see Katie,” Mark said, breathing hard. “It’s important. Can you ask her to come down, please?”

  Mrs. Gabbert glanced past him at the security guard. “She’s not here. I haven’t seen her all day, not since she left for class this morning.”

  A bunch of girls had begun to gather behind the housemother inside the foyer. Mark glanced at their anxious faces.

  “Is Tessa around?” he asked, sure she’d know where Katie was. He figured Katie would be with her.

  “Of course. She’s been here since the security chief dropped her off hours ago.” The housemother disappeared for a moment, and Mark shifted impatiently from foot to foot. When she came back, her frown had deepened. “Tessa’s not in her room, and the girls don’t know where she is.” Mrs. Gabbert’s eyes teared up. “The lights in the basement went out just a moment ago. The breaker was tripped. You don’t think Tessa did that?”

  What Mark thought was that Katie was in trouble. And if Steve was involved, he had a damned good idea where they’d gone.

  Meet me @ the rink ASAP, the text said, life or death!!! Tessa

  Kind of dramatic, Katie thought as she headed out of the clinic, even for Tessa. Maybe Katie should have said no because she was exhausted and starving. She’d hardly slept the past two weeks, had hardly eaten all day. She felt weak and on edge and confused. But after seeing the Lupinskis’ graves and getting a better grasp of what Tessa’s life had been like before Whitney Prep, she couldn’t turn her down. Tessa was her friend. Whatever the reason behind her crazy behavior, Katie owed her a chance to explain.

  The phone number had been blocked. Tessa had probably borrowed someone’s phone at the dorm. Joelle had mentioned Tessa being stuck at Amelia House without her cell. It was strange that she’d picked the ice rink, which was Mark’s turf, not Tessa’s. Was it because she was taking the tunnels there and the ice rink was the closest school building? The whole rec complex would be empty. All events on campus had been canceled after Rose’s body had been found. So long as Katie didn’t have to stumble through tunnels to get there, she didn’t care. She just wanted this long day to be over and done with.

  The air outside was crisp, the sky turning dark. An angry breeze rustled the branches of the trees above as she hurried up the sidewalk. Few students were out, and those who were walked in pairs. In an hour, the campus would be deserted. No one wanted to be wandering around by themselves after curfew until whoever killed Rose was caught.

  The rink was part of a monstrous building that looked like the shadow of a dinosaur, hulking in the dark. Katie saw a campus police car slowly making its way past the building, shining its headlights on the facade before it rolled on.

  Katie avoided the front doors, knowing they’d be locked. Tessa wouldn’t need a key to get in—she’d be crawling through a grate. Katie went to the rear door that led to the lockers. When she’d come to the rink with Mark after-hours before, that was how they’d gotten in. Mark had told her it was rarely locked during hockey season since the guys came and went so much. It’d be easy enough to go through the locker room and into the rink, where Tessa was supposed to be waiting.

  The light above the door weakly cast its beam on Katie as she approached and reached for the bar, pushing her way inside.

  She stood in the dark, waiting as the door clanked shut behind her, listening for voices or noises that meant someone else was there. But she heard nothing.

  With no one around, it couldn’t hurt to flip the light switch, she figured. But when she clicked the switch back and forth, nothing came on. Maybe the bulbs were burned out.

  As Katie’s eyes adjusted, she caught the glistening of glass and brass in the dimly lit trophy case that lined the rear hallway. She started walking past it, glancing at all the ribbons and medals displayed alongside gleaming cups topped by figurines engaged in various sports. She paused in front of a sizable trophy topped by a pair of crossed hockey sticks. If she squinted, she could read Mark’s name on the plaque at the base. MVP, PREP SCHOOL HOCKEY REGIONALS, it said. Katie knew how badly Mark wanted to put a state championship MVP trophy right beside it.

  She wondered if Mark would even get to play now. Poor Charlie was clearly out of commission. Would Whitney go ahead if their star forward was arrested and their number one goalie in a hospital bed? Or would they forfeit with the game just two nights away?

  She heard footsteps behind her and caught motion in the mirror at the back of the case. “Tessa?” she said, and turned.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but the Ice Princess isn’t coming.”

  It was Steve Getty, and he stood between her and the door.

  “I heard you’ve been sniffing around my shit,” he said, and took a step forward. “So I figured it was time we had a little chat.”

  “I have no clue what you mean,” Katie said, stiffening.

  “Joelle sent me a text. She’s got this bright idea about going to the police. She said you convinced her to report me.” He shook his head and made a tsk-tsk sound. “And you had someone poke into my records, didn’t you? My dad’s got a guy who monitors that stuff. Hacking Whitney’s system is a piece of cake for a tech geek. Really stupid move,” he said. “Someone should teach you to mind your own business.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Katie said, even though it was a lie. He was twice her size, and for all she knew he’d murdered Rose Tatum. But what could he do that wouldn’t come back to haunt him? He was a coward who pushed people around, who forced himself on girls, and who had very likely drugged a teammate. Would he shove her in a locker until someone found her in the morning? He couldn’t do anything more without risking jail for real.

  At least, that was what she told herself.

  “I’m glad Joelle’s coming forward,” Katie said, the tiniest croak in her voice. “If you hurt her, you deserve whatever you get.”

  “I didn’t do anything to Joelle that Joelle didn’t want.” Steve smiled, but there was malice in his eyes.

  “And if you killed Rose,” Katie went on, “I hope you rot for that, too.”

  “News flash, sweetheart,” Steve said, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. His face went hard, and she saw his hands clench. “Your boyfriend’s the one who killed the girl. Ask anyone.”

  “I don’t have to,” Katie replied, holding tight to her bag as Steve took a step nearer. “Mark doesn’t drug girls and rough them up. That’s your thing. What I don’t get is why you sent me her hand. Was it to scare me? Were you trying to be funny after what happened at the morgue?”

  “Christ!” Steve’s face knotted with anger. “I didn’t cut off that bitch’s hand!”

  “Then who did?” Katie’s heart beat so fast she feared it would burst right out
of her chest.

  “I’ve gotta give props where props are due,” Steve said, and the angry look vanished. He smiled thinly and tipped his head. “It had to be your boy, Summers. I left the girl with him. He might act like he’s Mr. Perfect, but on the inside he’s just as much a freak as everyone else.”

  “Mark didn’t do it,” Katie said, and she realized she believed it. “He didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “You sure?” Steve touched his lip, which was puffy and red. Katie wondered if Mark had split it open during their fight at practice that morning. “He seems to like blood. Or maybe it’s just my blood he likes.”

  “I think we’re done,” Katie said, sick of putting up with Steve’s BS. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

  Steve shrugged and casually stepped aside. “Be my guest,” he said, and gestured toward the door.

  Katie held her breath as she walked toward him, thinking this was too easy, that Steve had too big an ego to let her just leave like that. And her fears were confirmed when she got to the door and pushed hard on the bar. It wouldn’t open. She tried again and again, but it didn’t budge.

  “It’s locked,” she said, trying not to panic.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” he said from behind her.

  Katie turned to see him dangling a gold key. Then he flipped it back and forth in his hands.

  “We’re not done yet.” Steve narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a fierce look. “And when we are, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Mark was right. The guy was a total narcissist. He had to be in control. He couldn’t take criticism. Katie knew he was a bully on and off the ice. But was he a killer, too?

  “Let me out, Steve,” she told him, keeping her voice as level as possible, when inside, she was getting scared for real.

  “Soon,” he replied, and put the key in his pocket. He patted it, grinning like he was having fun playing cat and mouse with her.