Ask Me (9 page)

I should have stayed home, the way lots of the other students had, even those who weren’t close to Jade. They were just taking advantage of the suspension of roll call. But something had made me come, so I stuck it out, not willing to admit defeat. Maybe Alex’s advice, I don’t know.

My MP3 player made little difference today. Teachers let students talk things out in class, presumably thinking it would help them cope. For once, I was grateful to Mrs. Pratt for her enforced cheerfulness. She handled the situation perfectly, only allowing talk of flour, eggs, and sugar during home economics. That suited Delilah, too. Strangely enough, she’d come to my table again in silence, head down, all the fire gone from her.

We stood side by side, mixing things in bowls, dropping in ingredients, reading the recipe—together, but also apart. I opened my mouth half a dozen times, wanting to say something, but unable to think of what that might be. At the end of the class, we had a perfect batch of peanut butter cookies to show for our time together. Neither one of us took even a single bite. As she was gathering up her things to leave, Delilah finally spoke. “Thanks for not making me talk.” I nodded like that had been my intent all along and patted her shoulder when we parted ways.

THE HALLWAYS WEREN’T AS
kind to me as home ec, though. The big question of
who
did it was asked many times. I had only one answer: “Water is like life. It arrives madly, then recedes away faster, faster … leaving everything silent.” It became like a mantra to me. I could hear it in my head even against the pulsating rhythms of The Maine cranked as loud as it would go. And yet that answer had no rhyme or reason to it and an Internet search had turned up nothing. The only thing I could figure was that she had died near the lake, but it certainly wasn’t water that had killed her. A blade had done that.

No, a person had. Someone had stood over her with a cold smile, striking first at her stomach and then at her chest. And then they had watched as she had fallen to her knees, begging.

When people asked
why
Jade had been murdered, however, three different answers came.

“Silence never killed anyone,” I murmured the first time someone had asked, which wasn’t so much an answer as a statement, albeit one that didn’t mean anything.

Then:

That made even less sense.

And finally: “There are so many little dyings that it doesn’t matter which of them is death.” I stole away to the computer lab between classes and learned that the last was a quote from a poet, Kenneth Patchen. But figuring that out did nothing to shed any light on the reason someone had killed her.

LUNCH ARRIVED, AND I
escaped to my oak tree. I didn’t trust myself to eat anything beyond crackers, not with the rest of the afternoon stretching ahead of me and doubtless more questions. The stomach churning was starting to lessen with repetition, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I looked more pale than usual. Better to keep clear of everyone and everything. It was blessedly quiet in the courtyard.
I watched as a lone bird made loops around the upper branches, trying to choose a perch. I slowly chewed another cracker. What was I even doing here? I was circling, like that bird. I’d almost made up my mind to leave campus after all when I heard footsteps behind me.

“Hello again, Aria. Were you waiting for me, or do you always sit out here?”

Will sat down in front of me cross-legged, his knees almost but not quite meeting mine. He balanced a lunch tray across his lap.

“Yes, yes,” I said, my tongue the traitor. Hopefully he thought I had answered only the last half of his question and not the first, though I knew in my heart it was the answer to both. I blushed, cursing myself inside, and tried to recover. “I like it out here. It’s quiet.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I brought you some crackers, in case you’d run out.” He took a handful from his tray and put them on my plate, then picked up his own sandwich to take a bite.

“Thank you,” I said, not sure how to respond. No one had given me crackers before. I picked one up and took a bite. It was as dry and tasteless as the ones I’d already eaten.

Now that he was here, I could admit to myself that I had wondered if he would show up again. I watched from behind my hair as he chewed slowly, easily. Surely Jade’s death should be affecting him as well? At the very least, you’d think he would be feeling the pressure of public opinion. The tide seemed to be turning more against Alex now, but I’d overheard a few girls wondering how
he could be so calm and cool. I did have to agree on that, at least. The Florida heat didn’t even seem to make him sweat.

“You know you are what you eat, right?” He had noticed me watching him. I quickly looked down at my plate. “I’m not sure what crackers say about you.” He grinned at me, probably expecting a witty response.

Instead he got a stanza of poetry. “It’s a very odd thing, as odd as can be, that whatever Miss T eats, turns into Miss T.”

Dear God, what was that? My eyes widened in horror at what had come out of my mouth. There was no way to recover from that one. It was cryptic and silly.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. My face glowed until surely I looked as red as a tomato.

Will looked at me a moment and then burst out laughing. The sound filled the courtyard, sounding alien. The circling bird flew off, startled.

“What was that?” Will asked when he had himself under control again.

At least this time the answer came out directly, even if I did sound like an encyclopedia. “From the poem,
Miss T
by Walter John de la Mare, English poet, died the twenty-second of June, 1956.”

He laughed again. “You’re not stupid at all, are you?”

“No,” I said, and this time I flushed in anger, not embarrassment. I took the plate of crackers off my lap and placed it on the ground. Had he just come out here to make fun of me? I’d thought it might be to get away from the speculation of the other students, but I was all too familiar with
being the target. I moved to get up, and he grabbed my wrist to pull me back down, tethering me there.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not laughing anymore. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just, well, there are lots of rumors about you. That you’re … you know.”

“Not all there?” I asked through gritted teeth. I knew people thought that, but it still hurt to have this boy right here in front of me saying it. I wiggled my wrist, but his hold was firm.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile, letting his fingertips drag across my skin as he finally let go. I let my hand drop to my side and shifted from my knees to sit back down.

“Well, you know how rumors are,” I said pointedly.

He was silent for a moment. “Yes, I do. But you and I know what value rumors hold, right?”

“The value of a rumor is only held by those who would believe them,” I whispered. Who was I to judge? They called me crazy and stupid and bumped me in the hallways, but they didn’t think I was possibly a murderer. Someone had scrawled
KILLER
on Alex’s locker this morning. Will’s locker had been egged, the yellow yolk dripping down the front. Students were taking sides and picking a team to root against, not for.

“And they’re obviously crazy,” he continued, picking up his sandwich again. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Oh, sure,” I said bitterly. “I’m perfectly normal.”

“Who wants to be normal?”

“Me,” I said. There it was. That was one answer that certainly had the ring of truth in it. It was all I had ever wanted since all of this started. I’d had friends and all the
trappings of a normal life, even a mother and father. Once lost, could I ever regain them? Would my mother or father be willing to welcome me back once I stopped spouting inconvenient truths? I didn’t think so. Some things you can’t forget. Too many bridges had been burned. Did I even want to go back to them? They were as good as strangers to me now.

“Well, not me.” He leaned back on his hands and studied me. “Normal is for people who don’t know any better. Normal is for people who believe rumors. Normal is for idiots.”

Blushing was getting to be a habit for me around him. Was I being too sensitive, or had he called me an idiot? Maybe he realized what he’d said because he smiled. “And you are obviously not an idiot. If anything, I’d say you’re pretty special.”

I laughed at that.
Special
. Yes, that was one word for it.

“Yes,” he said, nodding more to himself than to me. “Definitely out of the ordinary. I think I need to get to know you better.” He picked up his sandwich again. I was left without words. He wasn’t at all like what I had expected, not that I’d had any clear idea. I struggled to come up with something, anything to say.

“I’m sorry about Jade,” I said at last, which was probably the last topic I should have brought up.

The slight grin melted away. “I … don’t really want to talk about it.” He took another bite, a faraway look in his eyes. “First loves stay with you forever, don’t they?”

“First loves are bittersweet,” I said, almost sounding like a normal person but not quite.

He nodded. “We were supposed to meet that night,” he muttered, avoiding my eyes. “I keep thinking that if I’d gone, maybe I could have stopped whatever happened. But I’ll never know.” He sighed and put his sandwich down, eyes lowered to the ground.

It was my turn to reach out. I squeezed his hand. “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known something was going to happen.”

“I know, but I can’t help but wonder who did it and why. Jade wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He clutched my hand like a drowning man.

“A stranger, I think. There’s no way of knowing why.” Not unless someone could decipher my proclamations, but I wasn’t about to share them with anyone. If the answer was clear, then maybe I could have called in an anonymous tip or something. But how could anyone make out anything from the randomness that came out of me? “It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could have done. Just remember that.”

“Thank you,” he said, bringing his eyes up to mine. “That means a lot to me, especially coming from a friend of Jade’s. I really need that right now.”

He looked so intense that I blushed again and had to look away. It was ridiculous. At this rate, if he kept talking to me I’d have to start wearing makeup to hide my blushing. I’d never been so transparent before. I was too embarrassed to even correct him about Jade. I hadn’t been anyone’s friend since this curse started. They had all abandoned me as I spilled their secrets, large and small. By the time my grandparents had taken me in, I had nothing and no one but them.

“Can I ask you something?”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said. I bit back a bitter laugh. At last, my purpose in life had been revealed. Why was I not surprised?

“I’ve always wondered. What is it you’re always saying under your breath? Are you making fun of people or what? I can appreciate that, given where we live.”

“The truth,” I said. “There’s no fun in it.” I dropped his hand and shifted away from him, managing to embed a root or rock into my tailbone at the same time. “Look, I’d really rather not talk about that. Can we talk about something else?” Anything else. Or not talk at all. I didn’t want to spoil the moment.

“You can’t leave it at that! Now I’m really curious. What do you mean, the truth?”

“I answer questions with the truth,” I said. I clapped a hand over my mouth, not that it had ever helped me before.

“You answer questions,” he said slowly, like he was chewing that over in his mind. “What questions?”

“All questions. Every question. Any question I hear. Yours, theirs, hers, his … never mine,” I whispered through my fingers. “Please stop.” He was too close. Too near. It didn’t matter how quiet I whispered, he could still hear me. I felt his breath on my cheek as he leaned closer, trying to catch every word. My entire body felt cold now, even though a thin trickle of sweat was working its way down my backbone.

“Stop what?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Asking questions.” I removed my hand. “I have to go to class,” I said.

It was already too late. I had said too much, been too strange. I got up quickly before he could stop me with either his hands or another question. My knee caught my plate as I scrambled to stand up, scattering broken crackers everywhere.

“Wait!” he called after me. “I don’t understand! What did I say?”

“I don’t understand!” I repeated back, which was true enough. That was what he had said, but it also defined my life. I had so many questions of my own, but they were never answered. Why was I this way? When would it finally end? I didn’t know. I pushed through the door and back into the cafeteria, not caring that I was causing a scene. People scattered, for once getting out of my way. I kept going until I got to the parking lot and didn’t stop until I got home.

I sat in my car staring at the relentlessly tacky exterior of the Clamshell Restaurant. Then Granddad knocked on my window, making me jump. I rolled it down.