The Perfectionists

She turned and headed out of the kitchen and ran upstairs. But instead of going to her room, she went to Taylor’s. She and her moms hadn’t changed his room at all; there were still books on the floor where he’d left them, and the calendar was still turned to the month he died. They kept saying they would clean it out and turn it into a guest room, but somehow they never seemed to get around to it.

 

Images of Taylor came floating back to her as she fell onto his twin bed. Her little brother’s habit of carrying all his textbooks at once in his backpack instead of using his locker like a normal person, so that he looked like a turtle under the giant hump of his bag. The way he looked bent over a Dungeons & Dragons figurine, painting the armor with a tiny, delicate brush, his tongue between his lips in concentration. The way he screamed, high-pitched and girlish, if someone startled him. Caitlin had loved to sneak up on him and poke him in the ribs just to see him jump.

 

Then she thought about Nolan shutting him into a locker for three hours, just as he’d documented in Reasons Death Is Better Than School. When Nolan had tripped him in the hall, sending him flat across the filthy linoleum. When Nolan had stepped on Taylor’s iPhone to break it, or ripped the pages out of his Robert Jordan novel right in front of him. Caitlin hadn’t seen most of these things happen—she’d only read about them in Taylor’s journal after the fact. Taylor had swallowed all of it so bravely. He’d kept it to himself, the last entries both hopeless and resolute. To him, death was a better option than high school. He would escape Nolan.

 

No wonder she’d been so up for that prank at the party. No wonder she’d taken Julie by the arm when they all convened by Nolan’s stairs, her body thrumming with adrenaline. Even now, even knowing she could be blamed for his death, she had no regrets for giving Nolan a taste of his own medicine.

 

“Caitlin.”

 

Startled out of her thoughts, she sat. Mary Ann stood in the doorway.

 

She thought her body language would drive her mom away, but Mary Ann walked in and paused next to the bed. She could feel her gaze on her. Her eyes were the same dark brown as Caitlin’s. Whenever strangers saw her with Mary Ann and asked if Caitlin was adopted, Mary Ann would always say, “No, she’s mine. Can’t you tell by the eyes?”

 

Mary Ann sat next to Caitlin on the bed and folded her hands. “Is everything okay, honey?” she asked in a small voice. “Are you missing Taylor?”

 

“No,” she said sullenly. “I mean, yes, I always miss him. But no more tonight than usual.”

 

“Is it something with Josh?” Mary Ann sighed. “You two shouldn’t fight. You’re so good together.”

 

Caitlin stared at her mother, frustration building inside her. Why were her moms so obsessed with her and Josh’s love life? “I’m not fighting with Josh. Why would you think that?”

 

Mary Ann smiled sadly. “It’s just not like you to walk away from the table. And you’ve been acting strange lately, sweetheart. I’m just worried about you.” She hesitated. “Have you taken any of that OxyContin Dr. Magnuson prescribed?”

 

Caitlin did a double take. “What? Why?”

 

“I’m just . . . curious.” Her mother didn’t meet her gaze.

 

Caitlin wound a piece of dark hair around her finger, her pulse suddenly racing. “A few,” she said carefully.

 

“When?”

 

“I don’t know.” Caitlin threw up her hands.

 

Her mother exhaled loudly. “Well, I was hoping you hadn’t. If you still had all your prescription, you’d be in the clear.”

 

Her heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

 

Something about her expression was strange, almost suspicious. “Well, the police called earlier. They’re calling everyone from your school with an Oxy prescription. They subpoenaed records from all the local pharmacies. Obviously, your name came up.”

 

Caitlin’s heart was thudding fast. “Nolan was a notorious pill popper. He had his own stash.”

 

“Maybe so.” Mary Ann nodded like she wanted to believe that. But the expression on her face seemed timorous, like she was about to burst into tears. “It’s just . . . can you do something for me?”

 

“Sure. What?”

 

“Bring me the rest of your OxyContin prescription?”

 

Caitlin stared at her. “Why?”

 

“Just humor me, honey.” Mary Ann looked uncomfortable. “You don’t need it anymore, right? I’m going to dispose of it for you.”

 

Caitlin blinked. “Do you think I had something to do with what happened to Nolan?”

 

“No!” Mary Ann said quickly, her eyes widening. “Honey, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just . . . well, you haven’t been yourself lately. And Coach Leah called to say she had to kick you out of practice the other day. Sometimes that medication causes changes in people. I just would rather we have the pills, okay? Just in case . . .”

 

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