8. Ben
BEN
“DID SADIE EVER mention anything to you about Mason Vreeland?”
“How do you mean?”
“Anything that would have indicated she had any kind of relationship with him… Did they ever speak? Was there any reason for you to believe that he had an interest in her, or did she ever mention that they’d had any interactions that made her feel uncomfortable?”
I can feel my face burning, an annoying side effect of my temper. Some people blush when they’re embarrassed; I blush when I feel like I’m about to explode.
“Absolutely not,” I say harshly. Then, making an effort to adjust my tone so I don’t get smashed into a table again, I keep going. “She never said anything to me about him at all. If she had, do you think I would have let him anywhere near her? What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“We’re not trying to imply that you overlooked anything, Mr. Carrera,” one of the detectives says.
I still don’t know their names, but I can’t imagine it matters.
“We’re just trying to figure out if Mason’s attack last night was completely random or if it was somehow planned.
Anything you might be able to share would be helpful. Try to think.”
Try to think.
“Um.” I pause, rubbing my face with my hands before I remember the blood under my fingernails. I stop immediately, folding my hands under the table.
“Okay,” I say. “There is something. This might not be new to you guys—I know someone is talking to Jayne too—but I think Mason might have had a thing for Jayne. She mentioned it in passing once when I was over at the Coopers’ house hanging out with Sadie.
Just something about Mason always staring at her in photography club.
Then, last night at the party, she said… ”
God, what exactly was it…?
“Give me a sec,” I say. “Let me just—”
“Take your time, Mr. Carrera.”
I nod, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
When I was a freshman failing my way through my first football season, one of my coaches taught me this thing he called time traveling.
It was a way to remember how plays went in a game, to be fully present in real time rather than focusing on the next thing you were supposed to do.
That was my problem, my coach said. I was always either stuck on the play that had just happened, or I was thinking about a play coming up in the future.
The key to playing a good game is to be present, and the way to do that is to freeze time.
It’s kind of neat, actually, once you know how to do it.
You just pick out two or three details in real time and focus on those things, and then you insert those details into the play you’re running.
So, I would notice that there was a guy in the front row of the stands who was holding a massive Pepsi, and there was a girl wearing a hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on it, and then I would go through what my next move was in my head with those details frozen into it.
The thing about time travel is that it also commits things to your memory, and after doing it in games for so long, I’ve found myself doing it off the field too.
For the most part, it’s a useless party trick to be able to recall anything almost instantly because of the random details involved on a given night or in a certain class.
But if I can dig through my beer-soaked memories of last night with enough patience, I can probably find something to tell them that could help.
“Jayne told me that yesterday afternoon she’d seen a picture Mason took in the darkroom at school.
She said it was a picture of her, but she didn’t know when he took it or how.
Jayne and Sadie were dressed alike last night; I think Jayne might have even let Sadie borrow one of her tops.
There was a second when Jayne walked through the door that even I thought she was Sadie, but I’d just seen Sadie go outside. ”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that Sadie would have told me if there were any issues with Mason. She told me everything. But if it was actually Jayne who Mason was obsessed with or whatever, then I don’t know. Maybe he got the two of them confused last night.”
The detectives look at each other, and I know they’re trying to figure out if this theory of mine is worth anything.
“That’s something,” one of them says finally.
“Thank you, Mr. Carrera. That matches up with what Miss Cooper mentioned to Detective Hunt. We’re going to send an officer down to the school to see if we can find the photograph.
It would give us a better understanding of what was happening in Mason Vreeland’s head last night. ”
Frankly, I don’t give a shit what was happening in Mason Vreeland’s head last night. I put a pretty quick end to whatever it was, anyway.
The other detective is still talking, but I’m not listening.
I make an effort to center my attention.
Time travel. There is a piece of green tape on the floor near the door.
I wonder why it’s there. Piece of green tape, and a Sharpie smudge on the coffee cup one of the detectives is holding.
Those two things should be enough to ground me here.
In the moment, in the present. A present without Sadie.
“Can you repeat that?” I ask, trying to sound like the polite and respectful young man everyone expects me to be.
I’m still Donovan Carrera’s son, after all.
Somehow, even in here, even after killing someone, I can hear my dad’s voice in my head reminding me that we have a family reputation to uphold.
It seems like he should be here right now, and I’m not sure if the reason I’m still alone in this room is because he isn’t allowed to be in here or because he doesn’t want to be in here.
It’s complicated, my dad’s relationship with the local PD. I don’t know much about my Uncle Chris’s murder, just that he was found dead by the train tracks in town. My dad was the main suspect, and it supposedly had something to do with a girl they were both dating or hooking up with or whatever.
My dad got off because there was no evidence. And anyway, what kind of guy kills his own brother over a girl? But half the town thinks he did it. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to walk down the street knowing that most people you pass believe you killed a member of your own family.
Man, I’m glad I don’t have a brother. I hate to think what I would do if I had a brother and he made a move on Sadie.
“I said, you mentioned that you and Sadie told each other everything. It sounds as though, at least by your telling, the two of you didn’t have any secrets from each other.”
“That’s right.”
“Would you care to tell us more about your relationship with Elizabeth Stratton, then?”
Shit.
I should have known. If you go slumming, sooner or later you’re going to end up with a stray following you home.
That’s more or less how it went down with Liz, but I’m not sure how honest I can be with these two guys.
They’d probably get it, but who knows how long it’s been since either of them was actively pursued by a girl who genuinely wouldn’t take no for an answer?
But I need to handle this. I’ll tell them part of the truth. Just enough to make them understand that the thing with Liz is totally, completely unimportant.
“Look, I know it’s probably been a long time since you guys were in high school, but things with Liz…
they just sort of happened. They never meant anything, and I never intended to do anything except text with her a little bit about how Sadie was doing when they were out of town.
But Liz kept trying to turn it into something more…
If you see our text messages, you’ll see that I’m telling the truth here.
One night at a party last year, we just took it too far.
We were both so drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk, to be honest. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.
I’m a stand-up guy. I’m not going to say it was all Liz.
I could have—should have—stopped her before it went down that way.
But we’d both been drinking, and Liz is the kind of girl who takes what she wants, you know?
That’s how she ended up getting in so deep with the Coopers, getting to go on all their vacations and live the high life like she’s their third daughter.
I know she can put on a pretty convincing ‘little girl lost’ act, but she can be dangerous when she wants to be.
I should know; I was on the receiving end of her manipulation. It nearly destroyed my relationship.”
My eyes are burning with tears again, and I press my palms into them. Get it together, Carrera. There is green tape on the floor. There is a Sharpie smudge on the coffee cup. You are here now. Time travel.
“And when you came clean to Sadie about all this, what happened?”
“She forgave me. I stood outside her house with a boom box, playing this song from an old movie she loved for literally four nights in a row—”
“You mean that one with John Cusack, Say Anything?”
I shrug. “Sure, maybe. I don’t know the name of it. But anyway, Jayne is the one who told her what happened. Jayne was there at the party that night, and I thought for sure Sadie would dump me and ditch Liz in a second, especially because Jayne hasn’t always been the biggest fan of either of us.”
“Why is that?”
“I can’t really tell you what the deal is with Liz, although I know she’s been a pretty bad influence on Sadie over the years.
With me… I don’t know. Jayne always thought Sadie could do better, I guess.
And when I pulled that shit with Liz, all I did was prove Jayne right.
I think it was self-sabotage in a way, because I always knew Sadie deserved someone better too.
Why she decided to waste her time with me, I’ll never know, but she did, and I will never stop loving her for it. ”