Blood on My Hands

CHAPTER 5

Sunday 12:25 A.M.

I TAKE DEEP breaths, dry my eyes, and try to think about what I have to do next. The phone vibrates. It’s my mother again. But she can’t help. Most of the time she’s so overwhelmed she can barely take care of Dad.
There’s only one other person I’m certain will believe me. But the last time we spoke, I broke his heart. I could blame Katherine for that. But she didn’t make that phone call; I did.
“I think we should make some that look like boobs,” Katherine said one afternoon last February when we were at Dakota’s house making cookies for the Spirit Day bake sale. Dakota, then the student council vice president, was planning to run for president in senior year.
The rest of us giggled. Katherine, who came off as so proper, could always make us laugh when she said something outrageous.
“Well, I mean, the idea is to sell a lot of cookies, right?” Katherine said.
“The boys would love it,” I said.
“Some of the girls, too,” said Jodie, who was mixing dough with Dakota in the big white KitchenAid mixer.
“I’m sure Mr. Carter would be thrilled,” said Dakota.
“Mean old man,” Katherine muttered.
“No way,” Dakota said. “He gave Seth Phillips and I a—”
“Seth Phillips and me,” Katherine quickly corrected her.
Dakota rolled her eyes. “He gave Seth Phillips and me permission to skip gym when we needed to work on PACE.”
PACE was the performing arts program at our school.
“And he made a special arrangement so that Slade could get out of school early and help his dad,” I added.
“Ah, Slade.” Katherine looked at her watch. “Gee, Callie, it’s been almost fifteen minutes since you brought him up. By the way, has he heard from Harvard or Yale?”
It was hard to know sometimes whether she was being serious or just kidding around. She knew he wasn’t going to college. At the counter, Dakota and Jodie were silent. I could feel the mood shift from one of gaiety and laughter to something else. This, too, happened often.
“He’s going into the National Guard,” I said. “And when he gets back from training, he’ll work in his dad’s business.”
“Construction?” Katherine said with a disapproving wrinkle of her nose. This wasn’t the first time she’d been critical of Slade, and I really didn’t like it. It felt like she was putting me in the position of having to decide between them. At first, when she’d invited me into her crowd, it had all been fun and laughs. I’d come to relish times like this, when I was included here in Dakota’s kitchen with Katherine’s closest friends, knowing that Mia and the other far-end-of-the-table girls would have died to be in my place. But along with that growing familiarity came a feeling of vulnerability: I had become an unprotected target should Katherine decide to hurl her pointed opinions in my direction.
I looked down at the cookie sheet and busied myself pressing green sugar letters into the dough, spelling out “Go Tigers,” “Win,” and “Tiger Pride!” Not only did Slade work with his father in construction but they’d also helped renovate that very kitchen.
I remembered Slade telling me that it was the biggest kitchen he’d ever seen. It seemed like it had acres of dark green marble countertops, punctuated by dual sinks, brushed-steel appliances, and a large iron ring suspended from the ceiling with a dozen pots and pans hanging from it. Slade had said it had been one of those jobs for which money wasn’t an issue. The Jenkinses had wanted everything to be perfect.
Just when I thought the topic of Slade had been dropped, Jodie said, “How long have you two been together?”
“Three years,” I answered.
“So … you’ve never been with anyone else?” Jodie was a funny girl, with short hair and a bouncy personality and a wicked sense of humor when she felt like displaying it.
I shook my head.
“How can you know if he’s the one for you?” she asked. “I mean, when you’ve had no one else to compare him to.”
“I just do,” I said, and thought, I don’t need to compare him to anyone else.
“I think you could do so much better,” Katherine declared.
My ears burned. This was something else I’d learned about Katherine. Sometimes she’d get into moods and had to stir things up, cause excitement, and push buttons. She was like a schoolyard bully who couldn’t resist picking fights. But unlike some bullies, who picked fights only with kids they knew they could beat, Katherine seemed to have this need to create confrontations even when the outcome was uncertain.
I could have reacted to what she’d said about Slade, could have gotten angry or more defensive, even argued. I think Katherine actually liked it better when you fought back than when you meekly obeyed her, the way Mia always did. But instead, I decided to try a strategy based on something my father used to say: A good offense is the best defense.
“Tell me, Katherine, have you ever been in love?” I asked.
Dakota and Jodie froze like meerkats on TV. Katherine conjured up a haughty “Ha!” but after that, the kitchen fell uncomfortably quiet again. I was tempted to push Katherine on the question—after all, “ha” didn’t exactly qualify as an answer—but I sensed I’d gone far enough. I’d stood up to the queen and silenced her.
Katherine glanced around and her gaze stopped at a block of wood containing a set of kitchen knives. Her hand closed around the largest handle and she drew out a long, heavy-looking blade and held it in my direction for a moment in a way that could have been either innocent or threatening. The mood in the kitchen was ominous. Even though what Katherine was doing was a teasing gesture, there was something menacing about it.
Staring at the knife, I noticed the design on the side of the blade—two tiny white stick figures against a square red background.
Katherine turned toward me. Dakota and Jodie could see what she was doing, but they couldn’t see her expression change from a chatty smile to an intensely unamused glare. Suddenly she jabbed the knife forward, not nearly enough to reach me, but enough to make me jump back.
“Aaah!” Jodie gasped, as if she really thought Katherine was going to stab me.
Katherine turned and smiled at her. “You didn’t think I’d do it, did you?”
A nervous grin appeared on Jodie’s face, while Dakota’s remained a mask. Katherine slid the knife back into the block and gazed at me again, nodding slightly. I couldn’t help interpreting the act as a serious warning not to overstep my boundaries.