Blood on My Hands

CHAPTER 28

Tuesday 7:18 A.M.

OUTSIDE, THE DOWNPOUR has eased to a drizzle. After that phone call, I can only assume that something with Slade has changed, even if I don’t know what it is. All I know is that calling him back to argue or plead isn’t going to solve anything. Still, I wish he hadn’t gotten angry. I really wish he’d told me he loved me. Could that be why he wanted to see me in person?
And some good news came out of our conversation: Jerry really did make my phone untraceable. From the tree house, I can see the streets in front of and behind the Fairman house, and there are no police cruisers racing up with their lights and sirens off.
But now what? My disguise is no good. I am hungry and dirty and hate the way my hair and scalp feel. Is it time to turn myself in and tell the police what I’ve learned about the anonymous threatening texts? Wouldn’t they have to look into that? Especially since they must have a record of Griffen’s parents’ report. At least then I’d be able to rest and eat and take a shower.
But there’s that other Callie. The one who made me run even when I got the most painful stitch in my side. The one who said that no matter how many reasons I came up with for stopping, I’d still be quitting. Sometimes I hate that girl. Life would be so much simpler if she weren’t there making me feel bad and guilty every time I thought about taking a shortcut or the easy way out.
I can’t prove I didn’t kill Katherine by hiding. So I have to think, figure out what the next step should be. There must be information out there that can help me, even if I don’t know what it is or where to look for it. But I’m sure of one thing—I won’t come across it if I turn myself in.
So the first thing I have to do is listen to the other Callie and not give up. And then what? To prove that someone committed murder, you have to prove that they had the opportunity, the means, and the motive.
The opportunity was at the kegger. The means was the knife. The mo—
And that’s when it hits me. The knife! It had that square red logo with the white stick figures. The same logo I saw that day in Dakota’s kitchen! I can’t believe it took me this long to put it together! That will prove Dakota did it!
After the weekend at Zelda’s, the fun continued for the final two weeks of the summer. Wherever the IC went and whatever they did, I was included. Not all the girls were there. Zelda stayed at the beach and Dakota was still away with her family. But that left Katherine, Brianna—who in Dakota’s absence had become Katherine’s constant companion—Jodie, and me.
Sometimes it was a little awkward, like when they went clothes shopping and I couldn’t afford much for myself. Meanwhile, as the day Slade was due to finish Guard training and come home approached, I began to watch the local news and check the paper. Then I read this one morning in the Fairchester Press:
FAIRCHESTER—COUNTY OFFICIALS ANNOUNCED TODAY THAT FAIRCHESTER’S EIGHTY NATIONAL GUARD MEMBERS WILL BE DEPLOYED TO AFGHANISTAN IN LATE SEPTEMBER.

County Administrator Kevin Parsons is hoping residents will give them a patriotic send-off. The Guard members will serve as support for US Army troops.

“We’re asking folks to let these men and women know how much they are appreciated,” Parsons said, then added that he has asked local municipalities to fly extra American flags and put up other patriotic decorations.

Parsons, who himself is a member of a National Guard Special Forces group, said he hoped local residents would also display flags and other symbols of support. “Anyone who puts himself in harm’s way for our national security deserves all the appreciation we can muster.”
I felt my heart sink. Slade’s worst fear had come true.
Slade was scheduled to come home the day before school started. I assumed that the men in his unit would be allowed a few weeks after training to see their families and make arrangements before their deployment. As the day of his arrival grew nearer, I became miserable and anxious and scared. Part of me yearned to see him, and part of me was terrified of what might happen if I did.
The easiest thing to do was avoid the whole issue. There were always parties on the night before school began. I joined Katherine, Brianna, Jodie, and Zelda, who volunteered to be our designated driver, because she was taking an antibiotic for an ear infection and wasn’t allowed to drink.
Nobody said a word about Dakota. I knew she must have gotten home from her family vacation, but I didn’t ask why she wasn’t with us.
There was lots of drinking and catching up with friends we hadn’t seen over the summer. By our third stop, things began to get a little fuzzy for me. I remember getting out of the car and stumbling slightly over the curb. Katherine caught my arm to steady me and we laughed at my klutziness. The next thing I knew, we were holding hands and walking across the lawn toward the next party.
“Wasn’t Slade supposed to come home today?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered, surprised she knew that.
“Have you seen him?”
I shook my head.
“Do you want to?”
I shrugged. “It’s probably better if I don’t. He’s going overseas in a few weeks.”
“So you’re not sorry you broke up with him?”
In my heart I knew I was very sorry. In my head I wasn’t sure. But what good would it do to tell Katherine that? In her opinion I’d done the right thing by breaking up with him. “No,” I said. “You were right.”
Katherine squeezed my hand and then let go.
As it got late, people began to settle down. By then we were at the home of Alex Craft, the impossibly cute star of many PACE productions, playing flip cup and drinking. Then someone suggested we play suck and blow. We all sat in a circle, boy-girl-boy-girl, and started to pass a card around with our lips. You’re not allowed to touch the card with your hands, and the way you keep it on your lips is by sucking in air behind it. Then you turn to the person next to you and they press their lips to the other side of the card and you blow while they suck, and the card stays with them. You’re out of the game if you drop the card before you give it to the next person. And if it falls while you’re getting it from or giving it to someone, you usually wind up kissing them.
I was sitting with Alex on my right and Seth Phillips on my left. The first few times Alex passed the card to me, I instantly dropped it. Our lips touched, but it didn’t feel much like a kiss. And each time, I had to back out of the circle and wait for the next round to begin.
At first there was the expected protesting from the boys when their lips touched, and giggling from the girls, but it seemed like after a while, it got quieter, except when someone made a wisecrack and people laughed. Of course, the card wasn’t the only thing being passed around. So was a bottle.
I don’t know how long we played. People kept changing their seats and moving around. Either because I’d had so much to drink or because I had the least practice, I was usually one of the first to be DQ’d. That made me want to try harder, even though everything felt like it began to spin whenever I closed my eyes.
And then David Sloan dropped the card, and the next time it came around, Katherine got it and turned to me.
And when she tried to press the card against my lips, it fell.
And then she was pressing her lips against mine.
And I kind of remember thinking that was strange and didn’t she realize that she’d dropped the card?
But her lips stayed on mine.
And then they parted.
I remember thinking, Wait … no. I might have even said it out loud, or maybe not, because as I pulled away, she leaned forward so she was still kissing me.
I’m pretty sure that at that point I turned my face away and I tried to get up, but I tripped over something.
And then I was on my hands and knees on the floor.
And then I was sick.
The next morning, my first as a senior in high school, I had the worst hangover of my life. But I took a bunch of Advil and went anyway. At lunch we took our seats at the same table we’d sat at the past year, only Dakota wasn’t there and it was now Brianna who sat closest to Katherine.
Everyone chatted and acted as if nothing unusual had happened the night before. They were so normal, in fact, that I began to wonder if something had really happened or I’d only imagined it.