Where the Truth Lies (13 page)

Anyway, according to Ethan, it was a pretty grim holiday. He and Steph stayed with their mom in her new condo, and everybody cried pretty much the whole time. On Christmas Eve, a courier showed up with a boatload of presents for Ethan and Stephanie from their dad, and they all cried harder before deciding to return the presents, unopened, to their old house—where their father is now staying with his new mistress and her three-year-old daughter. Yuck.

So I don’t blame Stephanie for being angry or resentful. I can’t imagine for one second how she must be feeling. That’s just the thing, though—I’m supposed to be her best friend. I’m supposed to be there for her regardless, even if all I do is listen. That’s what Renee has been doing for me, and I haven’t even asked for it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, locking our door behind me, trying to think of what to tell them. If I admit I was with Renee, they’ll want to know what we were up to. “I was with Del.”

Despite whatever concerns they might have about him, both Franny and Grace find the whole secret-love situation with Del to be terribly romantic.

“Ohhhh,” Grace says, nodding in understanding. “Where did you go?” Before I can answer, true to form, Grace rushes on. “You went to a motel. Didn’t you? Oh my God, they went to a
motel
, guys.”

I narrow my eyes at her. It occurs to me that it’s beyond hypocritical for me to even pretend offense. “We went to the movies.”

Stephanie blinks at me. “You did? What movie?”

“Um, at the Mystic Theater, they’re running
It’s a Wonderful Life
until the end of the month.” I happen to know this is true.

Grace is getting ready to take a shower. “Well, we miss you. I know you’re in
love
and everything, but we are the Quad.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Franny says.

“Yeah, it’s real romantic. Weren’t you two about to take showers before dinner?” Stephanie is looking at me oddly. What does she know? She can’t know anything. How could she?

But once Grace and Franny are gone, Stephanie beckons me into her room, shutting the door behind us. “Okay,” she says, “spill. Where were you
really
?”

All I can think to do is try my best to uphold the lie. “I told you, I was with Del.”

She nods. “Right. At the movies in Mystic?”

“That’s right. At the movies in Mystic,” I repeat, almost willing it to be true.

“You’re lying to me, Emily. I was at Winchester with Ethan all afternoon. Del was there, too. In fact, I’m supposed to give you a message.”

“Stephanie—”

“Just shut up. I’m supposed to tell you not to come over tonight, because your father wants to talk to Del after dinner.” She shakes her head. “Are you going to tell me where you really were? God, I feel like … I feel so pathetic.” She stares at the floor. For a few long moments, we don’t speak. There is a small part of me that
almost
wants to tell her the truth. I want to believe that she would understand the same way Renee does. But she wouldn’t. I know Steph better than anyone does. At least, I used to know her better than anyone, before everything got so out of control. If I told her everything—especially the
biggest
thing—I can’t even imagine how she’d react. I simply don’t know her well enough anymore to take that chance.

Instead, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Renee’s mom is a mess, you know.”

Stephanie, always interested in some good gossip, raises an eyebrow, looking at me. “Really?”

“She’s on her third husband—”

“That’s right! To that cameraman whose marriage she broke up. I know.”

“Well,” I continue, totally making it up as I go, “it’s not going well. Apparently her mother has a drug problem.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes. “Everybody knows that, Emily. She’s been in rehab, like, six times.”

“I know, but it’s destroying her marriage. I guess her husband left a few weeks ago and went back to his ex-wife, and now Renee thinks her mom might be using again. Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so secretive. But I promised Renee I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Stephanie gives me a hug. She gives great hugs; she always has. When she was in seventh grade and homesick all the time, we shared plenty. I would listen while she cried and talked about her family, and how much she wanted to be home with them. Ethan was here for her, too, but Stephanie and I were inseparable. I don’t know what’s happened to us.

“If anyone can understand what she’s going through, it’s me,” Stephanie says. “I mean, my family is falling apart.”

I nod. “I know. I should have told you sooner.”

“It’s okay.” She hugs me more tightly. “You’re a good friend, you know that? It’s good of you to be there for her.”

“I should be here for you more. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted. It’s been a crazy year.”

She pulls away. She gives me a sad look. “It sure has.”

Steph calms down after I tell her the lie about Renee. I feel terrible: life has become one lie on top of the next on top of a secret so huge I can barely comprehend it, a secret that’s literally
growing larger
inside me every day.

We get dressed for dinner and walk up together with Grace and Franny. The four of us link arms along the way. As we’re passing Winchester, Ethan comes up behind us, puts his arm around me (I’m on the end), and says, “Well, what do you know, lovelies. I’m a thorn among roses.”

Franny beams. “Awww. Look at us. We’ve even got our prince!”

Del isn’t at dinner; neither are my parents. Of course I’m nervous that my dad has somehow found out that we’re still seeing each other. But I’m not too worried; even if Del admits that we’ve been together, if anything, he will get an angry lecture and a pile of work details.

As we’re walking back from dinner, the four of us arm in arm again, Stephanie breaks away and begins to walk more slowly. Once she’s a good ten paces behind us, she calls to me to slow down.

“You know what’s funny?” she asks.

“Hmmm?”

“That it hasn’t been in the tabloids.”

I feel my whole body go cold beneath my winter coat.

“What do you mean?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.

“Well, you said that Renee’s mom was using again. You said that her husband had left and gone back to his family.”

I squint at the sunset. I can’t look at her. “That’s right.”

“It’s just that you’d think it’d be in the tabloids. You’d think other people would know about it.”

She’s totally right; it would be everywhere if Renee’s mom’s marriage were crumbling again. But there haven’t even been rumors of a breakup.

“I guess they’re doing a good job of keeping it quiet,” I tell her. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?” When she doesn’t answer, I say, “Stephanie, I’m telling you the truth.”

She appears to relax a bit. “Okay. I’m sorry. Listen, I want you to tell Renee that she can talk to me anytime about this. I kind of know what she’s going through, at least a little bit.”

“Okay. I’ll tell her.”

“Good.” She smiles. “You sure there’s nothing else?”

I give her my best reassuring grin. “Positive.”

chapter twelve

“Your father is furious with me,” Del says. But I can tell he’s not worried. Already, a slow grin spreads across his face as he leans over me in his bed and brushes the hair from my eyes.

“Del! You didn’t tell him we’re still together, did you?”

“He knows, Emily. It’s like he has a
spy
or something. He just told me that you and I weren’t fooling anyone.”

That’s what he thinks
.

“He’s going to try and have me kicked out,” Del says. “He promised me he’d find a way.”

I can think of more than a few reasons why that would be a plausible end to Del’s tenure at Stonybrook. But instead of saying that, I take a deep breath and stare at his ceiling, trying to be brave. I’ve been thinking long and hard about this. I’m going to Renee’s for the summer; everything is in place. There’s only one thing left to do. I’ve been working up the courage all week; I have to tell him sooner or later. I might as well get it over with.

“Del,” I say, swallowing hard. “I have to tell you something.”

His grin vanishes. “What? You’re not going to break up with me, are you? I didn’t mean to offend your dad, but come on, Emily—he’s completely out of touch. We love each other. He should know that he can’t go around telling you who to—”

“I’m pregnant.” I whisper the words.

He stares at me silently for a long time. Finally, he asks, “What did you just say?”

I don’t want to repeat myself; it’s too hard to say out loud. “We were stupid. We should have been more careful.”

“Emily. Oh, holy shit. Okay, Emily. Calm down. It’s okay. Are you sure?”

I nod. “Almost four months sure.”

He puts a hand on my still-flat stomach. “But you don’t look any different. You don’t seem any different.”

“It’s not like in the movies. It takes a long time to start showing.”

“Oh.”

“ …”

“ …”

“Are you angry?” I whisper.

“Emily, no! How could I possibly be angry? Look … okay, it’s bad timing, it’s definitely not the ideal situation, but everything will be okay. I’ll be here for you, and we can figure this out together. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to my child, or to you.”

When he says those words out loud—
my child
—I think the gravity of the situation hits me for the first time. I am not ready to have somebody’s child.

“Del,” I say, trying to calm him, to make him quickly understand how things are going to be, “I’m not going to keep the baby. I have a plan, okay? I’m going to go stay with Renee at the end of the school year. I’m going to live in New York City with her and Bruce—my parents already told me it’s okay—and then I’ll give the baby up for adoption. Nobody will even have to know there
was
a baby. So you can’t tell anyone, all right?”

Del frowns. I can tell immediately that he doesn’t like the idea. “But it’s my baby, too.”

I nod. “I know. But it’s my body. This is what I have to do.”

“Well, I’m not sure I’m okay with that. You know I grew up without a real family. I don’t even know where my sister is. Now you’re telling me you’re gonna take my baby and give it to some strangers, just so you don’t have to feel embarrassed that you got pregnant?” His voice is starting to rise, and I’m starting to panic. I didn’t expect him to react this way. I don’t know what I expected, but certainly not the delusion that we could all become one big happy family. The idea is laughable, and Del should know that.

Maybe he doesn’t. “I grew up in foster homes,” he continues, and I can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady. “You don’t know what it’s like not to have a real family. We can’t do the same thing to our baby.”

“Del, we’re
not
doing the same thing. Our baby will have a good home. I’ll make sure of it.”

He shakes his head. “No.
No!
This is my baby, too, and I’m going to raise it with you.”

“Del, shhh!” I grip his arm tightly. “You need to calm down. We can talk about this more. We don’t have to make any decisions yet.”

He stares at me. “It looks like you’ve been making decisions without me for quite a while.”

“Please don’t act this way,” I tell him. “I’m so scared.”

“There’s nothing to be scared about.”

He has no idea.

Usually, Del walks me back to my dorm, but not tonight. Tonight I trek across campus by myself, the snow and ice on the ground crunching beneath my feet. Being alone, outside in the cold, feels incredibly lonely and overwhelming.

Once I’m finally standing beneath Stephanie’s window, I pack a tight snowball and toss it as gently as possible at the glass. A few seconds later, her face appears in the window. I can see her sighing. It’s late enough that all the doors to the dorm are locked, so I stand in the freezing cold, watching and waiting as Steph takes her time opening the window and unrolling the rope ladder for me to climb up to the quad. I ought to send her father a thank-you card.

I don’t get a chance to have nightmares, because I don’t sleep all night. The next morning, Del isn’t at breakfast, but my father is. He approaches my table, where I’m sitting with my roommates, puts a hand on my shoulder, and squeezes.

I take a bite of my cereal, refusing to look at him. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Emily. Sweetie, I want you to come to my office during study hall.”

I have third period study hall, right after chorus and French. It’s the only class I have with Renee, and I’m dying to tell her what happened last night with Del.

“Can’t I come later?”

“Study hall,” he says.

I look at him. My vision is blurry, my eyes burning from lack of sleep. “What for?”

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He doesn’t smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

When Del doesn’t show up at all for breakfast, I start to worry just a twinge. Usually, he makes an appearance right before it’s over and sits with Ethan and a bunch of the other guys from Winchester on the other end of the cafeteria, pretending not to know I’m alive for my father’s benefit.

And when he doesn’t stroll past my locker before first period, I start to panic. He was irrational last night. What might he have done? I remember my dad warning me about him. But Del is the smartest person I’ve ever met. He wouldn’t do anything stupid, right?

I find out soon enough. When I step into his office, my dad closes the door behind us, and when I get all the way inside I see both my mom and Dr. Miller waiting for me. But no Del.
Oh. Shit.

Could he have told my parents that I’m pregnant? Could they have found out some other way? It doesn’t seem possible; it’s
not
possible. My mind flashes to an image of my dad standing with his ear to Del’s bedroom door. Oh God. Where
is
that boy?

“Daddy?” I ask, my tone tentative. “What’s going on?”

“Emily, there’s something your mother and I need to ask you. We really should be having this conversation at home, but at this point it doesn’t matter.” His tone is almost hopeless. “Does it?”

I glance at Dr. Miller, who gives me a pitiful smile. It’s not reassuring at
all
. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“Emily, honey. I want you to answer us honestly,” my mom says. “And I want you to know that, whatever your answer, we’ll deal with it. You aren’t going to be in any trouble.”

They know. He told them. Here it comes.

“Emily,” my dad asks, “are you using drugs?”

I’m so relieved that it takes all my effort not to laugh in their faces. “Am I what? What do you mean?” And then it occurs to me that all of my roommates smoke pot, and that I’m certainly
around
drugs enough. But of course, I haven’t been using them lately.

“I’m talking about cocaine,” my father says. His voice is shaking. “Are you using cocaine?”

“What?” I stare at him, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, did you just say
cocaine
? Why would you possibly think that?” I stare back and forth at my parents. Then, without any fanfare, my father pulls a tiny bag of white powder from his pocket and drops it on his desk. “Because we found this in Del Sugar’s room this morning before breakfast. He’s been expelled. His parents picked him up about an hour ago.”

And like that, in three brief sentences, the whole world is pulled out from under me. Again.

“Daddy,” I say, trying my best not to cry, “this has to be a mistake. Del doesn’t do drugs.”

“Really?” My father’s tone becomes sarcastic. “And how do you know that?”

I stare at him, defiant. “You know how I know.”

“Tell me, Emily, have you ever noticed that he has a quick temper, or is easily excitable? Have you ever noticed a strange smell on him? And by that, I’m not talking about the cigarettes and dope that all you kids so routinely smoke practically right out your damn
windows
.” He’s getting angry now, angrier than I’ve ever seen him before. “It’s a smell more like kerosene.”

I feel slapped. I’ve smelled it on him a thousand times. But I’ve never even seen cocaine before today, and if my dad hadn’t just told me, I wouldn’t have known to connect the smell.

It all makes sense, though. All of those long disappearances. His dilated pupils. His constant sniffling. How could I not have realized what he was doing?

“When I talked to Del last night,” my father continues, “he told me that you two were in love. He said there was nothing I could do to keep you two apart. And you know, Emily, I almost thought he was right. But I noticed that he kept sniffling while we talked. And that he stunk. You know his IQ is off the charts, right?” My dad slaps his forehead in mock surprise. “Of course you do. I told you myself.”

I nod, tears slipping down my face, as my father continues to rant.

“It doesn’t even matter how smart he is, because
boy
did he ever screw up! I didn’t have to do a damn thing to keep you two apart. Del did it all by himself.” He picks up the bag again. “You know, he had this in his sock drawer? He barely even tried to hide it.” My dad shakes his head. “We can’t have kids like that at Stonybrook.”

“So he’s gone?” I ask, sobbing now, so panicked that my body feels electric.

“He’s gone,” my dad finishes. “Just like that.”

“Emily,” my mother interrupts, and from her tone I can tell she feels sorry for me, “you never actually answered your father’s question. Were you using drugs with him?”

“Oh my God, Mom, no! How could you even think that?”

“Because you’ve been sneaking around with the kid all year!” my dad blurts. “God knows what you’ve been doing with him, Emily! Have you been sleeping with him?”

“I think we all need to calm down,” Dr. Miller interrupts, before I can even think about answering my dad. “Emily, I told your father that I haven’t noticed any signs of drug use during our sessions. But I was surprised that you didn’t confide in me about your relationship with Del. We’ve been meeting all year, and you’ve never even mentioned him.”

I glare at her, sniffling through my tears. “It was a secret. That means you don’t tell anyone. It’s kind of how they work.”
Besides that, you would have told my father in a second. Hell, you probably tell him everything else already.
“And to answer your question,” I tell my parents, “no, I have not been using drugs. Go ahead and test me if you want. I don’t even smoke cigarettes.” With my last sentence, I glare at my mother. She doesn’t show any signs of comprehension or guilt.

I wipe my eyes. “So that’s it. I’m never going to see him again.” But that
can’t
be it. Del knows where to find me, and I’m confident that he will. It’s only a matter of time.

“That’s it,” my father says.

The four of us sit in silence for a moment. Finally, I ask, “Is this over? Can I go back to study hall?”

He sighs. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to tell us?”

I stare at him. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He stares right back for what feels like a full minute. “All right, then. Go ahead.”