Smashed

by Lisa Luedeke

  Matt doesn’t say a word, but I can feel him looking at me. It’s the way he looks when he knows I’m not being straight with him. The look he gave me when I turned fourteen and swore to him that I didn’t think about my dad at all anymore, especially on my birthday, and why did he even have to bring it up?

  “We were going way too fast,” I say again.

  “Were you guys drunk?” he asks.

  I freeze inside. I need sympathy, not an inquisition. Up until now, I thought that’s what I was getting.

  “No,” I say.

  “Come on, Katie. People know.”

  It is the wrong thing for him to say. If he’d just shut up, I might have given in, told him the truth. Maybe even the whole truth. But it is a matter of pride now; I won’t admit anything.

  “They weren’t there. I was.”

  Matt stands up and walks slowly across the room. “Lots of people were there—at the party.”

  I don’t say anything. He stands by the window, looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Waiting for me to tell him the truth. The low evening light shines through the window, illuminating half his face.

  “A deer jumped out in front of the car, Matt. It was slippery and late. That’s it.” It is a colossal lie, a stupid fake lie, but it is too late now. It is out. And I am not backing down.

  Silence stretches out between us like the widest part of the lake, deep and blue.

  “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you,” he says softly.

  It isn’t an accusation and it isn’t a threat. It’s just Matt trying to put into words how he feels. But that doesn’t matter to me. He might as well have launched a missile at my heart.

  “Then maybe you should just stay out of my goddamn life.” I spit the words out, my whole body trembling. I want to snatch them back that very instant, but I can’t. It’s like hitting the tree; it’s done, over. There is nothing I can do to take them back.

  The hit is hard. Matt stares at me, mouth half-open, but no words come out. It is as if I am Scott and I’ve just pushed his head into that snowbank all those years ago. He blinks, lets out a quick breath, and turns on his heel.

  Then he is gone.

  “Matt!” I call after him.

  But he doesn’t come back.

  *

  I stare at Matt’s house, at the kitchen door, hoping it will swing open and he’ll come back out, come back and say he knows I didn’t mean it. It has been an hour since he left and disappeared into his house.

  The phone rings. I jump and run to the top of the stairs, but my mother calls out that it is Stan; he wants to see if I’m all right.

  “Tell him I’m fine,” I say. “Tell him I’m asleep.”

  I go back to my vigil. Soon it will grow dark, and Matt’s light will shine in his room. Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of him. See if he is okay.

  Below, in the driveway, is Ron Bailey’s truck. I can hear my mother talking to him downstairs, their voices muffled. Alec told the lie—or let it stand, anyway. But if I see Ron now, I have to let him believe it. Keep believing it. Can I play my part? Will he see the guilt in my eyes? “Please don’t make me face him,” I whisper, and curl up on my bed, eyes still glued to Matt’s house through the open window.

  Footsteps come up the stairs, then down the hall, and pause at my door. A knock. I sit up. “Come in,” I say, my voice weak.

  Ron stands at my door and looks at me with his gentle eyes. “How you doing, sweetheart?”

  “I’m okay.”

  He nods, his eyes still on me. It is clear that I am not.

  “Listen, if you need anything—anything at all—you just give me a holler, okay?”

  He won’t leave until I nod my head in agreement. “Okay, Ron.”

  “Okay then, take care of yourself.”

  I stare out the window into the dark. The lie is fixed now; it is fact. The truth? I feel like I don’t know myself anymore, either.

  fall

  14

  A week passed and I’d barely moved. I ate in my room, I slept there, I went nowhere. A cluster of maple leaves tipped with orange hung outside my window. Fall had arrived.

  Cassie came to see me the minute her plane landed, before she’d even slept, insisting her parents drop her off at my house before she went home. She burst into my bedroom, tripping over a pile of dirty dishes. But it was the sight of me that stopped her cold. “Oh my God, Kay,” she said, her face grave. Her red hair had been cut short around her ears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

  That was the first thing out of her mouth. It was so Cassie to apologize for something that wasn’t her fault. As if she should have known I’d be crashing a car so she could cut her trip to England short.

  “You didn’t know …”

  “I just mean …” She shook her head, her face pale under her freckles, her words tumbling out. “My mom said you both could have been killed, that you’re lucky you’re not dead. Is it true you had to walk a mile to get help?”

  I sat up, nodded. “The mosquitoes didn’t mind.” I held out one arm. The red bumps had faded to small pink spots, tiny scabs where I’d scratched them raw.

  Cassie’s eyes landed on a bruise, now a sickly yellow and lavender blotch that covered the soft underside of my forearm. “Jesus,” she said, her voice quiet, almost a whisper. She came and sat next to me and rested her hand on my arm. “Is it sore?”

  “A little. Not so much now.”

  She nodded and we sat there, silent.

  “Kay,” she said finally. “Why … I mean, what …”

  It was weird watching her pick her words—like I’d break if she said the wrong thing. We’d never held back before, always told each other everything.

  “Alec,” she said. “We used to …”

  “Laugh about what a jerk he was?”

  “Yeah.” She seemed relieved I’d said it. “I was pretty surprised you were in his car.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  She waited, but that’s all I said. I didn’t want to talk about Alec right now, didn’t want to explain anything. It was too hard, too complicated.

  “Was he drunk?”

  “We both were.” It was my stab at the truth, my attempt to come clean, for whatever it was worth. I’d screwed up with Matt; I wasn’t going to do that again.

  Cassie nodded, her lips pressed tight.

  “Cassie, you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Of course not,” she said, and she meant it.

  “I need that scholarship.”

  “I know.” She got up and walked across the room, randomly picking things up off my desk, looking at them without seeing, and putting them back down.

  “You look thin,” she said, her eyes on me again. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Have you been eating?”

  “A little,” I said. “You know how I get when I’m stressed out.”

  “I know.”

  My room was quiet. The evening sun was peering through the window now, catching dust in shafts of light.

  “I like your piercing,” I said. I was so sick of the accident. Sick of talking about it, sick of thinking about it.

  “What?”

  “Your hoop, at the top of your ear. I like it.”

  “Oh, thanks.” She smiled and reached up and touched it with her fingers. “Simon gave it to me.” Color rose on her cheeks.

  It was my turn to study her. “Oh my God,” I said finally.

  “What?” She looked sheepish.

  “You did it, didn’t you?”

  Cassie turned bright red. She blushed so easily; she could never hide a thing.

  “How did you know?” She was smiling now, beaming.

  “I could tell. I knew there was something different about you! You said you were going to wait for the right guy. So Simon, he’s it?”

  “Yeah, I guess he is.”

  “Oh. My. God. That’s big.” I hugged her and, for the first time in more than a week, I forgot about myself and my own stupid
problems. “I’m really, really happy for you.”

  “Thanks,” she said, still smiling. Her shoulders relaxed and she looked around my room. “This place is trashed,” she said, flicking a pair of shorts with her toe, tossing them onto a chair.

  “Hey, no changing the subject. I want to hear about Simon.”

  She laughed. “You will. But I’m hungry. Can we get a pizza or something? You need to get your strength back, girl. We’re captains. We’re taking this team to the state championship.”

  We were captains—elected at the end of last season. I had to get my shit together and get out of this house. I hadn’t been running, eating—nothing. Practice began in two days.

  “And Kay …”

  “What?”

  “Simon … You’re the only one I’m telling. You know that, right?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course, I’d never—”

  Cassie shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t even need to ask.”

  15

  Swarms of students rushed up the granite steps leading to the main school building. Hoping for invisibility, I pushed through them, head down. It was impossible: If the school had published its own version of Star magazine, Alec and I would’ve been the celebrities on its front cover. Right now, no news in Deerfield was more interesting than the after-party accident that could have killed the school’s two top jocks.

  I heard my name called several times—familiar voices, people I considered friends. Head down, I pretended not to hear.

  “Hey, Katie, what’s the rush?” It was Stanfield, coming up behind me just as I’d reached the main hall. “We’ve got ten minutes before class.”

  He took my shoulders, one in each big hand, spun me around, and studied my face. “Did that bastard hurt you?”

  My chest tightened. I looked up and made my best attempt at a conspiratorial smile, one that said, Yeah, that bastard Alec could have killed me when he drove the car off the road. My lips turned up awkwardly.

  “I’m okay, Stan.” I was a fraud. Surely, Stan could see through me. Good and honest Stan.

  He didn’t. Stan didn’t notice a thing.

  “Coach has been having a field day with Alec, if it makes you feel any better,” Stan said. “He’s been making him come early and stay late every day for extra calisthenics, beating on him in practice, basically making the team hero the team scapegoat.” Stan grinned.

  “Because of … ?” Shit.

  “There you are, girl.” Cassie’s voice rose above the crowd. “Hey, Stan! Long time …”

  Stan swept her into a big bear hug. I watched as they chattered on about the summer, but their words meant nothing. My lie hung between us, splitting me apart from them like a great glass wall.

  “Come on, we’re going to be late.” Cassie tugged my arm. “See you, Stan!”

  I followed Cassie, her red hair bobbing just below the surface of the crowd, her grip tight on my wrist. My best friend. So why hadn’t I told her the whole truth?

  Cassie and I turned a corner and headed down a dead-end passage toward our first class. The crowd thinned out and Cassie let go of my arm. Ahead, Alec leaned against a wall, deep in conversation with Scott.

  I hadn’t seen Alec or talked to him since the day after the accident at his house, and seeing him now made it come flooding back, everything I’d spent the last three weeks trying to forget. Panic crawled like fingers through my belly, gripping my chest.

  “Jesus,” Cassie said. She had stopped suddenly, her eyes riveted to Alec’s face—to the bright purple scar that curved in a nearly perfect arch down the left side of his face. It was a large new moon. A smiley face slapped on crooked. A purple-red tattoo branded on his movie-star face. It was the first time she’d seen what had happened to him.

  “He could have killed you both… .” She said it so softly, I almost didn’t hear.

  My heart skipped wildly. She was right, but he wasn’t the one who had almost killed us both—it was me.

  Scott glanced at me, then back at Alec, and left, slipping into the classroom.

  “Can I talk to you?” Alec said to me. “Alone.”

  Cassie’s eyes widened, appalled that he’d even have the nerve to ask. My would-be murderer—that’s what he was to her.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  For a moment, she looked at me like I’d completely lost my mind. I nodded to her. “It’s okay.”

  She looked at Alec, then back at me, an unasked question knit tightly in her brow. Then she walked away.

  “What’s up, Alec?” I wiped a damp strand of hair off my forehead. I badly wanted to sound normal, but my voice was quavering.

  “Long time no see,” he said. His blue eyes bored through me.

  “I … yeah.” What could I say? I’d spent the last three weeks convincing myself that Alec wanted nothing to do with me after what I’d done to him, after what he’d done for me. And it had worked: I’d believed it. I’d believed we’d just slide through our senior year, basically ignoring each other. A stupid, naive thought.

  “I figured you didn’t … ,” I tried again.

  “Didn’t what?” There was a sharpness to his voice.

  “… didn’t want to see me.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Why would you think that?” he asked, but his voice was cold.

  He’s punishing me, I thought. That’s what this is about.

  And another thought: I deserve it.

  For a moment, neither of us spoke.

  “Listen, Stanfield’s party is on Saturday,” Alec said finally. “Scott and Alyssa are coming with us.” With us ?

  “What?” He was confusing me now, completely shifting gears.

  “We’ll pick you up at eight,” he said brusquely.

  “Alec, I—”

  The final bell rang; the hall was empty now except for us.

  “I’m going with Cassie.”

  “Tell her there’s been a change of plans,” he said, his voice quiet, firm. “You’re going with me.”

  He slipped into the classroom and was gone.

  16

  The field was deserted, practice over, the other girls gone. My sweaty T-shirt fluttered on my back, drying in the cool wind. Stick down, I took aim from just inside the shooting circle. A strong, high flick sailed straight into the upper left corner of the cage. It was my best shot, the one I was known for.

  Perfect, I thought. Unlike my life. I ran to retrieve the ball.

  How was I supposed to tell Cassie I was going to Stan’s party with Alec? The look on her face when I’d spoken to him, when I’d let him speak to me, had said it all. She thought he was a criminal—and she assumed I’d want nothing to do with him.

  “Katie, can you give me a hand with these cones?” Coach Riley came up behind me. “Then come to my office. I need to talk to you.”

  *

  Coach Riley stepped into her dark, windowless office and shut the door.

  “Sit down.”

  A wave of nausea swept through me. Something was seriously wrong; I could see it on her face. Behind her desk, she folded and unfolded her hands before she spoke. I sat in the single straight-backed chair, my hands tucked under my thighs, and waited.

  “You’re officially a captain of this team, Katie,” she said finally. “Last year, when the girls elected you, I wasn’t surprised. You’ve been a leader of this team for a long time. Actually, I predicted it when you were a freshman.” A hint of pride flickered across her face, then disappeared.

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

  “But I need to talk to you about what happened this summer. I need to talk to you about the accident you got in with Alec Osborne.”

  I froze. My hands went numb under my thighs. What else did she know? That I’d been driving?

  “Katie, I’ll be frank. I’d heard things about you in the past. Some teachers said you were a partier—a drinker. I never knew what was true and what wasn’t. I just heard things. Teachers hear more
than you think.”

  I closed my eyes and pushed her words away. My ears hummed; I didn’t want to know what she knew.

  “Honestly,” she was saying, “it was hard for me to believe. You were always so great to have on the team. You’ve got a heck of a lot of talent, a terrific attitude. You work hard and you play fair. Truthfully, I’ve enjoyed working with you as much as—maybe more than—any player I’ve had in twenty years. And I think I’ve let you down, Katie.”

  My head snapped up, eyes open. What did she just say? She’d let me down?

  “I should have paid attention to what I’d heard and found out what was really going on. I should have spoken to you a long time ago.”

  “Nothing was going on,” I said lamely, but relief flowed through me. She didn’t know. She had no idea I’d been driving Alec’s car. But I barely had time for this to sink in; Coach Riley hadn’t stopped talking.

  “I want you to get that scholarship. I think you know that. But this drinking, this accident …”

  She paused and shook her head, then spoke with more determination. “The other girls look up to you, Katie.” She cleared her throat. “And I’m just not sure that that’s a good thing anymore.”

  In the split second that she paused, my stomach heaved and then dropped like a bomb inside me. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure if you should be in a leadership role on the team this year. I don’t know if you’re the right co-captain for the team.”

  Shame fluttered in my chest, then disappeared. A hot tide of anger swept through me. Suddenly I felt defiant. For three years, I’d had a clean record, except for a few bullshit rumors, and she’d supported me all the way. Now one thing happened—I did one thing wrong—and she was ready to take captain away from me? She didn’t even know I was driving the car.

  It was too much. A vision flashed through my mind of Coach Riley announcing to the whole team that there’d be a second election for captain because I had been found unworthy, and everyone staring at me to see my reaction. I could see Marcy Mattison’s smirk now—that was one vote I’d never gotten. The whole school would know what had happened within days.