“No?” Something in the way Gonzalez utters that single syllable makes me hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. He opens a manila envelope. Glossy pictures slide out onto the table. Pictures of Preston and Parvati. The top one is of the two of them kissing. They’re sitting at the edge of Preston’s pool. Parvati has a towel wrapped around her shoulders. The image stings a little, but it isn’t a betrayal. I know exactly what day it’s from. Preston’s New Year’s Eve party, junior year, the night Parvati and I met.
I spent most of the evening swilling free beer and wandering around the DeWitts’ cavernous mansion, checking out the Bristol Academy chicks from a distance. They were richer than most of the girls from Vista P, but other than that they were the same: tight dresses, lots of makeup, too much drama. I almost left early, bored by the usual bullshit. I was halfway out the door when I saw a shadow in the DeWitts’ in-ground swimming pool. It was a cold night for Southern California—definitely not swimming weather—so I ducked out onto the deck to make sure no one was drowning.
A girl’s lithe form moved beneath the wind-rippled water. Her dress flared up and exposed her slender thighs with each stroke. She finished her lap and then popped above the surface. “Hi.” She dipped her head backward into the pool so that her long dark hair stayed slicked back out of her face.
“Are you okay?” I was pretty sure she wasn’t okay. She was swimming in what was probably an expensive dress, and even though her teeth were chattering, she showed no signs of getting out of the water.
Instead of answering, she flipped onto her back and did a lap of backstroke. Her hair streamed out around her in a thick ebony halo as she glided across the pool. She looked otherworldly, like a ghost or a hot alien chick. She hit the far wall, did a graceful flip beneath the surface, and headed back toward me. Her arms barely made a splash as she cut the water with them repeatedly. When she got to the side, she saw me hovering above her and stopped again. “You’re still here,” she said.
“I’m enjoying the show,” I admitted.
She stared at me for a long moment. “You don’t belong here.”
“Why? Because I’m not rich?” A note of defensiveness crept into my voice.
She twirled her body in another back flip and then came up treading water. “No, silly. Because Preston’s friends are all sheep.”
“Aren’t you one of Preston’s friends?”
“Sometimes I think I’m the worst sheep of all,” she said, her eyes dropping to the water for a second. Her olive skin was starting to look a little blue.
She didn’t look like a sheep to me. The sheep were inside getting drunk and acting stupid. “Are you going to come out of there anytime soon?” I asked. “I could get you a towel.”
Her teeth chattered again and she ducked low so that everything but her face was submerged. “Do you know that SEALs have to stay in the cold water in their clothes for more than twenty-four hours? It’s part of their training.”
“I didn’t know seals wore clothes,” I said. Maybe hypothermia was already setting in.
“Navy SEALs, silly.” She laughed, and for the briefest moment I debated jumping in next to her. “My dad’s friend was a Navy SEAL. He’s teaching me to be hard core.”
That was twice she had called me silly, but for some reason I didn’t mind. “I think it would be hard core if you got out of the pool.” Not to mention how hot she’d look shivering in her clingy little dress.
Her dark eyes widened. “So cute. You just met me and already you’re worried.” She took in my unkempt hair and casual clothes. “Are you one of those hippies? Philosophically opposed to the military?”
“I’m philosophically opposed to hot chicks freezing to death.” It wasn’t the kind of thing I usually said to girls. I didn’t usually say anything at all. I just stayed in my own world and hung out with the occasional cute girl who hit on me.
She smiled. “I need to finish my laps, but I promise I’ll get out before I die, okay?”
I knew a blow-off when I heard one, so I left her even though a huge part of me wanted to stay. Instead, I found Preston inside and told him a crazy chick was doing SEAL training in his pool. “That’s just Parv,” he said. “She’s a freak.”
I didn’t tell Preston that I kind of liked her. I didn’t even admit it to myself until the next time I saw her, three months later, when she showed up in my English class.
Gonzalez rattles the photograph under my nose. “Where’d you go, kid?”
“Nice try,” I say, reluctantly letting go of the memory. “That’s from New Year’s Eve. Everyone kisses on New Year’s Eve—it doesn’t mean anything. And I didn’t even know her back then.”
“So you’re saying Preston and Ms. Amos were never an item?” Gonzalez asks.
“No. They were not.”
“Check out the rest of them,” he says.
“I don’t need to,” I say. “I don’t care what kind of bullshit you think you have on my girlfriend. She wouldn’t lie to me.”
“It’s not bullshit. We like to call it motive.” He flips to the next photograph.
My eyes betray me. It’s Parvati and Preston in his bedroom.
In his bed.
They look like they’re sleeping. He’s lying on his back; she’s curled on her side, her head resting against his chest. The covers conceal their bodies, except for one of Parvati’s bare arms.
A fist tightens in my stomach. “That doesn’t prove anything,” I say, but my voice wavers and I hate myself for having doubts. We made them together freshman year—razor-bladed out a square in the middle of the pages. It was my idea . . . What else had they done together alone in Preston’s bedroom?
The next photo answers my question. I train my eyes on my lap, but not before I catch a glimpse of Parvati on top of Preston. Long silky hair obscures her naked breasts. The photo tech has blurred out part of the image, but it’s still obvious what’s going on. “Where did you get these?” I ask. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know the answer. From Preston’s hard drive. These are stills made from the videos. Of course if he has videos of Parvati and me, he has some of the two of them also. Preston and his obsessive fucking recording of everyone. “So they were together at some point,” I whisper. “That doesn’t mean she cheated on me.”
It just means that both Preston and Parvati had lied to me about fifty times.
“And then there’s this one,” Gonzalez says. “Looks like they’ve been pretty close for a while.”
I can’t help it; I look. Then I bite back a gasp. It’s Parv and Pres going at it again, but the room looks like a dorm room and Parvati looks like she’s about fifteen. It has to be from Bristol Academy, which means not only have Preston and Parvati hooked up and lied about it, they’ve hooked up for years. Gonzalez fans a few more photos out on the table and then reclines back in his chair.
My fingers are shaking. I want to kill everyone. I imagine leaping over the table and wrapping my hands around Gonzalez’s throat. “Her hair is l-long in all these pictures,” I stutter. “She cut it at the end of summer, soon after we started dating. Unless you have some photos where she has shorter hair, then you don’t have any proof they hooked up after Parvati and I were together.”