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That's Not What Happened

Page 18

by Kody Keplinger


  She ran a hand across her face, pushing the small salty drops off her cheeks. “If we were friends, you wouldn’t have made me out to be a liar.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make you a liar,” I said. “Until I read your letter, I had no idea you were the one who started the rumor. If I had, I would have said something to you first. But by then, I’d already told Sarah’s parents. I’m sorry, Ashley. I never meant to put you in the middle of this, but … but you’re the one who told everyone. I didn’t say anything sooner, so it’s my fault, too. But—”

  “I heard her,” she said again. “I heard what she said. It was Sarah’s necklace and she stood up to him and hearing that … hearing her changed my life. It gave me faith and strength that I needed. And I told everyone because it was so … it meant so much to me. And if it didn’t happen—if it wasn’t her—then I don’t know what’s real and I …” She trailed off as she tried to wipe her face again, but there were far too many tears now. They refused to be pushed aside and continued pouring down her cheeks.

  I stepped forward, instinctively going to hug her, but she moved her chair back before I could get any closer.

  “I know what I heard was real,” she said. “It has to be. Because if it’s not, then I’m a liar. And I’m not a liar. I’m not a bad person.”

  “Of course you’re not. I never said you were.”

  “In your version of the story I am,” she said. “According to you, I told everyone a lie about Sarah.”

  “Technically, you did,” I said. “I know you didn’t mean to, but, Ashley, I was with her. I was the one holding her hand when she died. It didn’t happen. Not the way you remember. I’m sorry.”

  I’d never wanted her to feel guilty, even though I did. It had been a mistake. A big one, yes, but a mistake made by a traumatized seventeen-year-old girl. “I should’ve talked to you as soon as I read your letter. I’m sorry. Let’s just … let’s talk about this. I—”

  But she turned her chair and moved back toward the curb without a good-bye. Or even, as maybe would have been more appropriate, a “go to hell.”

  I let her go without calling after her. I knew it wouldn’t have done any good. But I stood there, in the same spot, until long after I saw her van leave the parking lot.

  By the time I was able to move again, I really wasn’t in the mood to shop for a dress. I only tried on a couple and took the first one that fit, barely even taking note of what it looked like. I ended up waiting for Miles at the pizza place a good while before we were supposed to meet, and when he showed up, having stopped by the bookstore after getting his tux fitted, he was disappointed to find that I hadn’t followed through with our plans to wear the brightest colors we could find.

  “It’s black,” he said, peeking into my bag. “Your dress.”

  “Oh … yeah. Sorry. I forgot.”

  “It’s cool,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll look great.”

  “What color tie or vest or whatever did you get?”

  The right corner of his mouth quirked upward. “It’ll be a surprise,” he said. After a second, though, his half smile faded away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m fine.”

  He just tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. He wasn’t buying it. I don’t think I’d expected him to.

  “It’s just …” I dipped a breadstick into the small container of marinara sauce we were sharing. I’d ordered us food while I was waiting for him to get to the pizza place. “I ran into Ashley. In the parking lot.”

  “Oh.”

  I didn’t have to say anything else. He knew exactly what seeing her would have meant. And based on my demeanor in that moment, he could probably have guessed how the conversation had gone. I appreciated that he didn’t push for details. Instead, he just gave me some cash for his half of the dinner bill and offered to carry the bag with my prom dress out to the truck for me.

  We drove back to Virgil County in silence, but at some point along the way, his hand had moved to cover mine as it rested on the stick shift. And I didn’t pull away.

  Aiden Stroud was eighteen, captain of the football team, senior class president, a shoo-in for prom king, and a friend of the boy who killed him.

  No one likes to talk about that last bit. It muddies the waters, makes people uncomfortable. How could the good boy, the victim we insist on raising to a pedestal of perfection, have been friends with the troubled young man who killed nine people? I don’t have the answer to that, but by all accounts, they’d been friends since preschool. Maybe not inseparable, the way Sarah and I were, but close enough that, if you dig back far enough into the archives of social media, you find photos from a party a few months before, where Aiden, dressed in a football jersey, has his arm slung around the shoulders of his eventual killer.

  I’ve seen that photo dozens of times during my internet spirals. I’ve stared at it for hours, wondering what happened. Had something changed, had they fought? Had he even known Aiden would be in that classroom? According to Denny, Aiden had only come in the room at the end of class to bring Brenna a book she’d left in his locker. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

  I have to stop myself from wondering, because it never gets me anywhere.

  But this isn’t about him. Or, it’s not supposed to be. It’s about Aiden. But I don’t think it’s possible to really talk about who Aiden was, outside of his bland, generic obituary in the local paper, without mentioning that connection.

  I knew Aiden the way everyone did. As one of the most popular, outgoing guys in school. To me, he was mostly just Brenna DuVal’s jock boyfriend. But he was in Ashley’s grade, so I wanted her perspective. Obviously things are complicated between us, so I had Miles text her and ask about him.

  MILES: You knew Aiden, right?

  ASHLEY: Aiden Stroud? Yeah. Of course. Why?

  MILES: Lee’s thing.

  ASHLEY: Oh.

  MILES: So anything you wanna say about him?

  ASHLEY: I guess. Let me think.

  MILES: Okay.

  ASHLEY: We made out at church camp once.

  MILES: Ha.

  ASHLEY: Seriously. Before I started seeing Logan. He and Brenna were on one of their breaks. He used way too much tongue for church camp.

  MILES: I didn’t know he went to your church.

  ASHLEY: Only for a year, I think. When his parents split up, he and his mom moved across town. He started going to Hillcreek Christian. I’m sure he made out with some girls there, too, though. He and Brenna broke up a lot. And Aiden always found someone to kiss.

  MILES: That’s definitely not the story I was expecting.

  ASHLEY: I’m making him sound awful. LOL. He wasn’t gross or anything. Just flirty. He was also super sweet. He was the guy anyone could call if they needed a ride home from a party. Even if he wasn’t there, he’d come pick you up just so you didn’t drive drunk. I never had to call him, but a few of my friends did.

  MILES: So he never drank?

  ASHLEY: Not that I know of. He told me once he lost a cousin in a drunk driving accident, which was why he always volunteered to drive people home.

  MILES: Makes sense.

  ASHLEY: Actually, the last time I hung out with Aiden was at a party. Right before Christmas. I never drank either because I was too scared of getting in trouble. So we were just sitting on the couch, and he let me blubber to him for an hour about all of my relationship drama with Logan at the time. I’m sure he was annoyed and bored, but he didn’t act like it. He told me he was sure Logan and I would work things out. That he knew, somehow, we’d end up together. He was right, I guess.

  MILES: Seems like he was a good guy.

  ASHLEY: He was. Aside from the too-much-tongue at church camp.

  MILES: We all have flaws.

  ASHLEY: The weird thing to think about is the end of that memory. After we talked about Logan, came over to us. He was drunk, and Aiden drove him home. Ironic, huh? Aiden cared about keeping him saf
e but …

  MILES: Yeah.

  “Oh, Lee baby, you look beautiful.”

  There were tears in Mom’s eyes when she looked at me, standing in the center of the living room in my prom attire. But for once, these weren’t tears of sadness or pain. She was happy, and that lifted at least a fraction of the anxiety from my chest.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said.

  The dress was actually quite nice, if simple. It was jet black with thin straps that supported a heart-shaped neckline, giving the illusion that I actually had curves. The skirt flared out a bit at my hips so that it swirled around my ankles as I walked. It wasn’t dramatic or glamorous, but I was okay with that.

  “Here,” Mom said. “I found some things for your hair.”

  My hair was too short to do much with besides comb. But Mom walked over to me with a handful of small clips, each with little crystals attached. They were cheap, but once she shoved a couple into my hair, on either side of my face, they did add an element of polish.

  “Oh,” she said, “and I picked up the lipstick you asked for.” She reached into a shopping bag by the couch and pulled out a small tube and passed it to me.

  I smiled down at the familiar plastic casing. Carefully I pulled off the cap and rolled up the lipstick. It was a pretty shade of berry red that I knew would apply like a sheer wash of color across my lips. I handed the tube back to Mom and gestured for her to apply it, knowing I’d make a mess of it if I tried myself.

  This had been Sarah’s favorite drugstore lipstick. On a whim, I’d asked Mom to pick it up from the store, and I was glad I did. It was silly. Sarah had been gone for more than three years, and I didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits or an afterlife at all. But wearing that lipstick still felt like carrying a little piece of her with me that night.

  “Done,” Mom said, capping the lipstick and dropping it into the little black handbag she’d lent me for the evening. “Oh, my little girl is all grown up and going to prom. Where did the time go? It feels like yesterday that the nurse was handing you to me in the hospital. You were so tiny. And beautiful.”

  “Mom.”

  I was relieved to hear a light tapping on the front door, saving me from more of her sentimental gushing.

  “Oh. There he is.” Mom went to the door and pulled it open. “Hi, Miles.”

  Miles mumbled a greeting, and I stepped up next to Mom so I could see him. I figured he would look handsome in his tux—and he did, for the record—but the minute I saw him I burst into fits of laughter so painful that I almost doubled over.

  Miles just grinned.

  Even though I’d forgotten the deal we’d made the night we went shopping, he really had taken it seriously. The suit was black, as expected, but beneath the jacket, his vest and tie were a bright shade of neon orange.

  It took a minute for me to get my laughter under control, and by then I had noticed Mrs. Mason standing in our yard, clutching her digital camera.

  “My grandma wants to take pictures,” he said sheepishly.

  “Oh my God, I almost forgot!” Mom grabbed her cell phone and shooed us out into the yard. “Hi, Mrs. Mason,” she said as she followed us down the steps and onto the grass. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  We spent a solid twenty minutes posing in different spots around our two yards, with Mom and Mrs. Mason trying to find the best place to take photos. They positioned us like dolls, telling us where to look and how to stand. Occasionally, they’d jump into the pictures themselves. I was sure they’d taken over a hundred shots before they were interrupted by the buzz of my phone.

  I pulled it from my purse and saw that Eden was trying to video chat with me.

  I clicked to answer immediately. “Hey,” I said.

  Eden’s face appeared on the screen. She was sitting on her bed, and I could see the bottom half of one of her anime wall scrolls on the wall behind her. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and beneath her glasses, I could see dark circles. But she smiled back at me.

  “Is Miles already there? Did you see the orange monstrosity?”

  “You knew?” I asked.

  “He texted me a picture earlier,” she said. “Isn’t it hideous?”

  “And perfect,” I said, smiling over at Miles, who had moved so that he could see Eden over my shoulder.

  “Well, let me see you guys,” she said. “You know that’s what I’m here for.”

  I passed the phone to my mom, who greeted Eden warmly as she backed up away from us and positioned the phone so that Eden could see Miles and me in our prom clothes.

  “You two look great,” Eden said once I’d taken the phone back from Mom. “Even with the orange.”

  “Thank you. We’re meeting Denny and his date at the school. Wish you were here with us. We miss you.”

  “I miss you guys, too.” She smiled and shook her head. “I should let you go. You don’t want to be late.”

  “Hold on,” I said. I looked over at Miles. “I’ll be right back. I forgot something in the house.”

  He nodded and went to join my mom and his grandmother, who were already examining the pictures on Mom’s phone.

  I took my phone inside and shut the door behind me. I hadn’t actually forgotten anything, but I didn’t want to talk to Eden in front of everyone. I hadn’t told Miles yet about what had happened when I visited Eden or what she’d admitted in her letter. I figured she would tell him when she was ready.

  “So, how are you?” I asked, sinking down onto my couch.

  “Uh … well, Misty and Jenny raided the room. Poured out all the alcohol. So it’s been kind of tough. But for the best, I guess.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I hope so,” she said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m looking forward to coming back to Virgil County in a couple weeks. It’ll be great to have you guys around again. Even if it’s just for the summer before you and Denny leave.”

  “We’ll keep in touch,” I promised her.

  “I know,” she said. “And Jenny’s already planned her first trip. My parents said she can stay with us over Fourth of July weekend. I’ve warned her that she’ll have to deal with an interrogation from Abuela. I think Jenny’s got an advantage, though. Abuela told me she likes her pink hair.”

  “Your family will love her,” I said. “I bet it’ll be a lot of fun. And you know we’ll want to hang out with you guys, too. I have a feeling she and Denny will get along well.”

  “Oh crap,” she said. “I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know if I can handle two extroverts at the same time.”

  I laughed, and a minute later we said our good-byes.

  Miles was waiting by my truck when I stepped back outside.

  “You two have fun,” Mom said, kissing me on the cheek. “Be safe. Call me if you need anything.”

  Mrs. Mason gave me a hug, too, before embracing her grandson. “You grew up to be such a good boy. I’m so proud of you,” I heard her say.

  But Miles didn’t seem happy to hear this. His face reddened and he ducked his head as she pulled away from him. “Thanks, Grandma.”

  “You ready to go?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  We’d opted out of the group limo to save a little bit of money. Besides, being trapped in a confined space with half a dozen people, several of which weren’t people I knew well, felt like a panic attack waiting to happen on a night that was already bound to be anxiety ridden.

  So we climbed into my truck and headed toward the school.

  VCHS didn’t have a big prom budget, so the dance was being held in our gym. Despite this, it was actually pretty beautiful. A lot of effort had gone into making it look less like a basketball court and more like a ballroom. Banners in our school colors hung from the ceiling. The lights had been dimmed and a spotlight roamed around the floor as a DJ played an old Tim McGraw song. There were balloons and streamers and tables filled with snack foods.

  And, yeah, it was a little cliché, but honestly,
it was pretty much exactly how I’d imagined as a kid. The only difference was that Sarah wasn’t with me.

  I swallowed. I knew that wasn’t going to be the last time I thought of her tonight. But I was determined to have fun, despite the longing ache her absence left me.

  “Lee! Miles!”

  We turned and saw Denny and Amber coming toward us. Amber looked beautiful in a baby-pink dress, but Denny was the one who got all of the attention. He was wearing a completely white tux with a matching white top hat. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous—and, okay, maybe if you didn’t know Denny personally, it still would have looked ridiculous—but it just seemed to make perfect sense.

  “You look amazing,” I said.

  “I know,” Denny replied.

  “I was talking to Glitter.”

  For the record, the dog was wearing a black bow tie and was, in fact, quite precious.

  “You always gotta outdo me, don’t you?” Miles asked.

  Denny grinned, the apples of his cheeks pushing up his dark sunglasses. “It gives me purpose.”

  “Why are we still standing here?” Amber asked. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

  “The lady’s right,” Denny said.

  Miles looked at me, that eyebrow raised, and I nodded, following him to the center of the room.

  As we weaved through our peers, I realized just how crowded this gym was and couldn’t help but make a mental tally of where all the exits were, and I decided that there weren’t nearly enough ways out. If there was any kind of threat, there would be a stampede for the doors. It would be a nightmare to get out of there. And a lot of people wouldn’t make it.

  A list began to form in my mind of all the ways I might die at prom. A fire. A bomb. Another shooting. There were too many possibilities. Too many paths that led to oblivion.

  I focused on steadying my breathing and kept my eyes on Miles’s back as I followed him through the crowd.

  “How do you dance with a guide dog?” I heard him ask Denny, who laughed. But before I got the answer, a hand closed like a vise around my wrist.

  I yelped and spun around, my chest seizing up with panic. This was it, I thought. This was the end. The last thing I was going to see before I died was …

 

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