Dead Silence

by Norah McClintock

  “I lied to you,” I said.

  She just looked at me.

  “The day Sal died, I said I left your textbook at home, but I didn’t.” Teddy had seen the book in my locker. Then he had read the note I left for Sal. He knew what I’d done. “I lied to you, Rebecca. And to Sal.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I know.”

  “But how—”

  “When I went up to you on the street, you were coming from home. But you weren’t carrying anything. You didn’t have my book with you. The next morning, I was waiting for you at your locker when you got to school. I asked you for my book. You took it out of your locker and you gave it to me. I didn’t think about it at the time. In fact, I didn’t think about it until I was in Quebec City, doing homework. That’s when it hit me—when could you possibly have put it in your locker? You couldn’t have brought it from home that morning. If you had, you would have taken it out of your backpack, not your locker.”

  I was so ashamed of myself.

  “I didn’t forget it at home,” I said finally.

  “Then why did you tell me you did?” she said. She didn’t sound mad, which confused me.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Mike?” She took my hand and made me look at her.

  “I …” I looked into her brown eyes. I wondered if I’d ever be able to do that again once I’d told her. “I wanted some excuse not to go downtown with Sal,” I said. “I was mad at him.”

  She let go of my hand. Uh-oh.

  “How come?” she said.

  “Remember when you met us outside the day before he died? I asked him what he was going to say to me and he said it wasn’t important, he would tell me later?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, he called me that night.”

  “And?”

  “He told me he was going out with Imogen again. He said he’d been going out with her all summer. And I got mad at him. I thought he was my friend. He broke up with her after he found out what she’d done to me. And now he was back together with her, like it was all okay with him.”

  Rebecca just looked at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and that scared me.

  “I guess he loved her, Mike,” she said finally. “And I know she’s sorry for what she did. I guess he loved her enough to give her a second chance.”

  She was probably right.

  Sal had forgiven Imogen. But would anyone forgive me for what I’d done? I’d bailed on Sal at the last minute, and that had changed everything. If I hadn’t lied, if I hadn’t left that note, we would have gone downtown together. Sal would have written the test for his driver’s license. He wouldn’t have been anywhere near that alley. He would still be alive. I had been living with that for weeks now, and I couldn’t imagine anyone giving me a second chance.

  I looked at Rebecca. Her face was so serious. She reached out and took my hand.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Mike,” she said. She sounded so positive. I wished I could feel the same way, but I couldn’t.

  Rebecca pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around me. We stood there like that for a long time.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Norah McClintock is the author of several mystery series for teenagers and a five-time winner of the Crime Writers of Canada’s Arthur Ellis Award for Best Juvenile Crime Novel. McClintock was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. She lives in Toronto with her husband and children.