Moment of Truth

by Kasie West

  “Can we run by this café about ten minutes out of our way?”

  “There’s a coffee shop on the way to school if you need a fix. I thought you didn’t drink coffee. It messes with your swimming.”

  “I don’t. I’m getting something for someone else.”

  “Okay, Ms. Cryptic. Who?”

  “Drive, we’ll talk.”

  “So I’m confused,” Amelia said after I explained to her what I was doing and why I was doing it. We’d pulled into the parking lot of Norman’s, but she hadn’t let me get out of the car. “Do you like Jackson?”

  “No, I’m just grateful he saved me the other day.” I had downplayed just how much, leaving out the tears and the drama.

  “Did you end up talking to your parents about the award?”

  “No. I shoved it under my bed and am waiting for the right time.”

  She turned off the ignition, finally taking in the little shop in front of us. It was a tiny place with peeling paint and dirty windows. “Are we going to die here?”

  I got out of the car. “We’ll be fine.”

  After placing my order with the woman behind the counter, I picked up a Sharpie she had in a jar next to the register. “Can I borrow this?”

  “Sure, honey.” She filled a cup with the amber liquid, put a lid on, and handed it to me. “You know we’re the only place around here that carries cider outside of the Christmas season.”

  “Believe me, I know.” On the side of the cup, with the blue Sharpie, I wrote, Now we’re even.

  I figured Jackson was on my mind so much because I was grateful for what he’d done for me. If I sort of paid him back with a kindness, maybe it would help me stop dwelling on it.

  Amelia stood in the doorway as if ready to make a quick exit if necessary. She eyed a bearded man at the far table.

  “Do you want anything?” I asked.

  “No, I’m good.”

  I replaced the Sharpie in the jar and we returned to the car.

  “What does Jackson have first period?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. Here, I’ll find out.” She typed something into her phone, then started the engine and backed out of the parking lot.

  “Who did you ask?”

  “Social media. It knows all.”

  “You asked the internet world what Jackson has first period?”

  “Yes. If he doesn’t answer, someone else will.”

  She was right. By the time we got to school, several people had answered her post. “Peer Counseling, C building.”

  “Peer Counseling?”

  “That’s what they said. Four different people.”

  “And he claimed he was horrible at advice.”

  “Do you know anyone who actually goes and gets counseled by their peers? I think they just sit around watching movies and stuff.”

  I honestly didn’t know. “Thanks for driving me.”

  “You’re welcome.” She headed toward her first class and I headed for Jackson’s.

  It was still prebell, so I didn’t expect him to be in class, but I looked anyway. He sat at a long table in the back, gaze on his phone. There were only a few other people in the room and no teacher yet. I opened the door and went to his table.

  “Hey,” I said, setting the drink in front of him.

  He looked up and surprise lit his face. “Hey. Are you lost?”

  “That’s for you.” I pushed the drink closer. “See you later.”

  “Moore,” he called after me.

  I turned around and walked backward a few steps.

  “What’s it for?”

  “Don’t ask questions, Holt. Just drink it.”

  He smiled. He had a nice smile, even though it always looked like it knew a secret.

  I happened to catch another guy’s eyes as I walked out of the classroom, and he looked just as surprised as Jackson. I glared at him until he looked away. What was the big deal? It was just a drink.

  At lunch, as I headed to find Amelia, Jackson fell in step beside me and plucked out one of my earbuds. “We are definitely not even.”

  I took out the other one and turned off my music. “Why not?”

  “Because I just bought you hot chocolate in a line I was already standing in. And you didn’t even drink it. You bought me cider. Where did you even find cider around here?”

  “It wasn’t payback for the hot chocolate. It was payback for the whole me-ruining-your-sweater-with-my-mascara thing.”

  “Oh, that. Then we’re still not even. This beyond pays off the hot chocolate, but as far as the other thing goes, you have to comfort me through an emotional breakdown if you want to be out of debt for that.”

  “You think you comforted me?”

  “Yes. I was very good at it too, so don’t try to deny it.”

  I laughed a little. “You were.” Too good.

  He lightly punched my shoulder again. I wished he’d stop doing that. “So it’s a deal, Moore. I’ll find you when I feel the tears coming.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m wearing an absorbent sweater.”

  He left without another word. I thought about asking him where he was going but stopped myself. Why was it that, when I didn’t want him around, he overstayed his welcome and now he was under-staying it?

  Twenty-Three

  I couldn’t believe how long it had been since I swam. Eleven days. When had I ever let a busy schedule keep me from swimming before? My entire body sighed a breath of relief as I dived into the water. Muscles that I didn’t know were tight relaxed as I began my strokes.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed—it felt like minutes but it could’ve been hours—before I stopped to rest against the wall. I watched as the water dripped off my arms and pooled onto the cement. A shadow falling over that puddle of water made me look up. I reached to the clip on my swimsuit strap and turned off my music.

  “Is this from you?” DJ asked, holding up a dollar bill I had penned the words thank you on. This was a week of paying back debts.

  “Yes. I said I’d give you a dollar if you told Coach I couldn’t make the awards ceremony and you did. So there’s your dollar.”

  He shook his head as he laughed. “You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t really tell Coach anything except that you wanted to talk to him. Your mom had called that same day too, so I passed on both messages.” He sat on the ground and set the dollar bill on a dry patch of cement in front of me.

  “My mom called him? I thought he called her.” So much for letting me make my own choice there. She seemed to have made it for me. I couldn’t complain. I’d let her.

  “Yes, I talked to her. She seems nice.”

  “She is.” That was the problem with my problems. My parents were both nice. It would’ve been so much easier to tell them off if they were mean.

  “Remember that day you ran into me and I dropped all the papers and you saw your name on one?” he asked.

  “Yes.” That was the day he told me I was too persistent. How could I forget?

  “That’s what it was about—the award you were winning. Coach had started writing notes about what he was going to include in his speech. Talking about how you never gave up on the butterfly was one of those notes. Sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

  Oh. That made sense. No wonder it seemed like he had been trying to hide something. That made me feel a lot better. “It’s okay. You working today?”

  “Work makes it sound like I get paid.”

  “You don’t get paid?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “I didn’t. So why are you always here?”

  “I help out the coaches. I want to study sports medicine. I figure it will look good on my graduate application if I have some experience.”

  “I’m sure it will. So then you’re not-working tonight?”

  “Yes, getting things ready for track finals tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his curls.

  “You not-work too much.”

  “I like to keep busy.
The only one that misses me at home is my dog.”

  “You have a dog?”

  “I do.”

  “Cute. I always wanted a dog, but my mom says they’re way too much work.”

  He nodded. “They are.”

  A random thought came into my mind. “Do you talk to yours?”

  “My dog?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t read his expression.

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  I was being stupid. DJ was definitely not Heath Hall. He wasn’t even in high school. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “After six.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. It was late. I’d told my mom I’d be home for dinner.

  “You lost track of time again?”

  I smiled. “What makes you think that?”

  He pointed to my phone sitting on the cement. “You should do a timed playlist. When it’s over, you’ll know it’s time to get out.”

  “You, DJ, are the smartest man in the world.”

  His dark skin darkened with a blush, and he messed with his glasses.

  I pushed myself out of the pool. When he jumped back, I realized he didn’t want to get wet. Being a swimmer, I’d seen that evasion move a lot. I was tempted to hug him, like I was tempted to do with everyone who reacted that way. I stopped myself, though. He and Amelia were . . . something. Instead, I shook my head and sent a spray of water at him.

  “Hey!” He laughed and pulled his sweater away from his chest with two fingers.

  The dollar bill now sat on the cement between us and we both stared at it.

  “I can’t take that,” he said.

  “It’ll bring someone luck.” I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me.

  “I thought that was a penny.”

  “Then a dollar should be one hundred times luckier, right?” I said.

  “It’s hard for me to leave money on the ground. I feel like it’s me telling the universe that I don’t need any more.”

  I smiled, and as I walked away said, “Then you better pick it up. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Did I really just say that to the guy Amelia liked? I hadn’t meant for it to sound so flirty. Maybe it hadn’t. I needed to stop.

  Five minutes before the bell rang the next morning, I walked into class to find Jackson sitting at my desk. “You have information,” he said when I stood beside him, waiting for him to move. “And I need it.”

  “You need my notes for algebra? I have horrible handwriting, but they’re yours if you want them.”

  “No, I don’t need your notes for algebra. What do I look like, a slacker?”

  I tilted my head and evaluated him. He had on a red polo shirt and his hair was combed for once . . . or at least the curls were a bit more tamed. He actually looked like he was ready to deliver a speech.

  “Fine. I already know you think I’m a slacker, but that’s not the information I need.”

  “Well, spit it out, Holt. The bell is about to ring, and Mr. Kingston does not like your style of humor.”

  “He belongs to your Jack-haters club?”

  “Membership information is confidential.”

  His eyes twinkled with a smile that didn’t reach his lips. “Cider. Where did you get it?”

  I laughed under my breath. “That’s the information you want? Well, you’re out of luck. That’s a secret I’m taking to the grave. Now out of my chair.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell him about the seedy shop just outside of town. It was like I had some sort of leverage over him and I was hanging on to that.

  He stood, then kind of whined the words, “Why? You don’t even like cider.”

  “Because now I own you.”

  It had been a joke, but the way he raised his eyebrows made me blush.

  I shoved him and said, “Oh, stop. If you can joke around, so can I.”

  “People expect it from me. Things like that from you sound like an invitation.”

  I blushed even more.

  “See?” he said. “I can deliver a joke.” He leaned close, then said, “You will tell me where to find that cider eventually.”

  When he left, I looked around and realized practically everybody was in their seats and staring at me. I quickly sat down. Kendra, the girl who sat next to me said, “When did you two get together?”

  “We’re not together.”

  “That was a lot of flirting.”

  “Jackson is like that with everyone.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Jackson.”

  Right. She was talking about my behavior, not his. That shut me up.

  Twenty-Four

  Amelia sat at our normal lunch table with a stack of papers.

  “Are you doing homework?”

  “Our homework, yes.”

  “We have homework?”

  “Don’t we? Don’t you still want to know who Heath Hall is? We haven’t talked about it in a while.”

  “Did you learn something new?” I still wanted to know. Probably even more so since I’d been talking to him online. I did not want to be blindsided by his identity, caught off guard. But she was right. We hadn’t been working on finding out who he was lately.

  “I thought we should sit down and compile a list of the evidence we’ve collected so we can narrow this down.”

  I glanced around the crowded courtyard. “Should we really talk about it here?”

  “Why not? Everybody seems to have theories about who he is. We should just stand up and ask everybody right now if they are Heath Hall.” She stood like she was actually going to yell that question across the cafeteria. I pulled on her arm, forcing her to sit back down.

  “Evidence,” I reminded her.

  “Right. Evidence. I’ve made lists of all the people at both events, cross-checked it with his followers online. I think I’ve narrowed it down to two suspects.”

  “Robert?” I asked, wanting her to disagree with me.

  “Yes.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Wait, you said two. Who else?”

  “Jackson.”

  She let the name hang there while I processed it.

  “No, that doesn’t make sense. Jackson was at Whitestone Bridge talking to us.”

  “Exactly. But he mysteriously disappeared when the jumping took place.”

  I thought back to that night. She was right. About five minutes before the jump, Jackson had left and I hadn’t seen him the rest of the night. Was Jackson Heath Hall? As I thought about all the conversations we’d had online, and now in real life too, my heart seemed to sing at that suggestion.

  “And Robert,” Amelia continued. “He claims to know who he is but hasn’t been at a single Heath Hall event to support him.”

  “You’re right.” That hadn’t occurred to me until now.

  “I know.”

  “Is it weird that our final list includes only people we actually know?” I asked.

  “No. I definitely think it’s someone we know. He’s been private messaging you online. I don’t think he does that with anyone else. And besides, we didn’t really know Jackson before Heath Hall showed up at the school pool. Then all of a sudden we see him everywhere. Maybe he’s trying to keep us from discovering the secret. And Robert, well, he’s just been too secretive about this whole thing.”

  “But wait, Jackson’s name was on the Just Jump leaderboard, remember? He’d jumped before and did it well. He wouldn’t need to face that fear.”

  “Maybe he somehow rigged that to throw us off his track.”

  That did sound like something Jackson would do. He was the one who cheated during our race.

  As if he knew we were talking about him, Jackson came running by our table, doubled back, then slid in between me and Amelia on the bench seat.

  Amelia flipped over the paper of names in front of her and exchanged a confused look with me.

  “Do I blend in?” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Will Colton notice me here?” His eyes met mine, sparkling with joy. I couldn’t he
lp but smile.

  I broke his gaze to look around, and just as I was about to ask him what he was talking about, saw Colton, a big football player, barrel into the courtyard.

  “What did you do to him?” Amelia asked.

  “Milk in a backpack is nowhere near as bad as milk in a gas tank. Wouldn’t you agree, Moore?”

  I laughed.

  “I could totally take him,” Jackson said. “But I don’t want to embarrass him.”

  I nudged his leg with mine. “Sure you could.”

  He nudged me back and left his thigh pressed there against my leg. That small act made my insides flip. He picked up one of my chips, raised it in the air toward Colton, and gave him that sly smile of his before he popped it in his mouth.

  Colton narrowed his eyes. “Jackson, you’re a dead man.”

  “You know you deserved it,” he called back.

  Colton didn’t disagree. He just scowled and walked away.

  Jackson put an arm around both me and Amelia and brought us into a group hug. “Thanks for the diversion, ladies. You were perfect.” With that, he stood and was gone again.

  “See, he’s everywhere,” Amelia said.

  I narrowed my eyes and watched him disappear around a building. “You’re right. You were also right about something else—he is kind of funny, I’ve decided.”

  Her head whipped toward mine. “What?”

  “What? You disagree now?”

  She shook her head and flipped the paper back over. “Okay, back to the case. You have still been private messaging Heath Hall, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there a way you can use this new intel to figure out which one he is?”

  “I think, yes.”

  She smiled. “And I’ll talk to the two guys this week and see what I can do from my end.”

  “You’re going to ask them if they’re Heath Hall?”

  “No, I’ve learned my lesson about that. They won’t admit it. I’ll be more subtle.”

  “I can take on one of them too. I mean, you don’t have to try to crack both,” I said, focusing on a chip in front of me.

  She smiled. “Which one, Hadley? Was there one in particular you want to handle?”

  “I hate you.”

  She laughed. “You’ve totally been Jacksoned.”

  “I have not.”