“Don’t … you … leave … me!” Kate screamed, scratching at him with her long nails.
She couldn’t stop hitting him. He’d hurt her, she’d hurt him back. Lucas hunched over and stepped back to escape the onslaught of Kate’s fists. Her field of vision filled with rage, and she forgot everything. She forgot that Aubrey was standing there watching. She forgot that there was a giant abyss where the bridge had once been right behind Lucas’s feet. She was not aware that two more people had arrived at the bridge; she didn’t hear them shout at her to stop, to watch out, to be careful. Kate saw and heard nothing except for Lucas and the rush of blood in her ears. Focused on him as she was, she did see the moment when his foot found only open air and he began to slip backward. Oh, she remembered the gap then. Hidden in her panic was a rush of satisfaction. A wild fear spread across Lucas’s face as he began to fall, and Kate thought—in the split second before she started to scream—you’ll be sorry now.
18
Jenny turned the key and stepped into the living room of suite 402. Somebody had shut the windows she’d purposely left open when she left for class this morning, and now it was hot in here, and smelled funky. Aubrey and Kate had gotten lax about laundry, and started leaving food lying around. Jenny wasn’t a maid. If they couldn’t observe basic standards of cleanliness, maybe she’d take the plunge and sign up to room with Rebecca Levine next year. But in her heart, she doubted she could do it. That night in Jamaica, when Lucas confessed that Kate had gotten under his skin, Jenny knew exactly what he meant. Her roommates weren’t good for her, but she was hung up on them, like on a bad boyfriend.
Jenny threw open the windows, and turned on the fan, then did the same in the double. There was a piece of paper lying on her bedspread that hadn’t been there this morning. She picked it up. It was a note, in Aubrey’s handwriting, with a second piece of paper folded up and tucked beneath it.
“Jenny,” she read, “they’re trying to kick me out of school. I can’t can’t can’t handle that. I can’t take it anymore. Kate knows what to do. We are ready to die. Life is too hard. I’m not brave like you. Kate will help me end my troubles. I love you, and thank you for always being there for me. Aubrey.”
Her first reaction was not to believe it. Aubrey was a drama queen who’d cried for help many times before, and Jenny was tired of the theatrics. Then she unfolded the second piece of paper, which had been furled into a tiny rectangle like a piece of origami. It was a letter from the Committee on Academic Standards informing Aubrey that she faced expulsion from Carlisle if she didn’t post a miraculous turnaround in her grades. That part was true, then—Aubrey was on the verge of getting kicked out. Jenny thought about the terrible things that had happened to Aubrey in the past few months. Her mother’s death. That humiliating mess in Jamaica with Griff Rothenberg. Now, the prospect of getting expelled from Carlisle, when Carlisle was the only thing Aubrey had left. That would be enough to break a strong person, and Aubrey wasn’t strong. This suicide threat could be real. What’s more, Kate was supposedly in on the suicide pact, and helping Aubrey. And Keniston Eastman had specifically warned Jenny that Kate had a history of self-destructive behavior.
Shit. Jenny was supposed to be watching for signs of exactly this sort of thing, but if there had been any, she’d missed them. She’d screwed up.
Jenny ran to the phone in the living room and dialed Keniston’s private number. No answer. She left an urgent message on the answering machine, laying out the facts, and prayed he’d call back quickly. When the phone didn’t ring immediately, Jenny started to feel sick to her stomach. What if Aubrey was already dead? Or Kate was? Should she call the police? As she picked up the phone to dial, there was a knock on the door. Jenny felt a surge of relief and ran to open it, thinking it would be Aubrey coming back. But it was Rebecca Levine.
“What’s the matter?” Rebecca asked, her smile fading as she saw Jenny’s expression.
“Oh, my God, Rebecca. Aubrey left me a suicide note. Here, read it.”
Jenny thrust the note at her. As Rebecca read, a look of horror spread across her face.
“This sounds like it’s for real.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jenny said.
“I saw Aubrey on the Quad a little while ago. She was going to Shecky’s to look for Kate. You should go after them, Jen. See if you can talk them out of it. If they’re really suicidal, they should go to the Health Center.”
“You’re right.”
“I’ll stay here in case they come back.”
“I think we should call the police,” Jenny said.
“Good idea. I’ll call. You hurry! Try to catch them before anything bad happens.”
Jenny ran down the stairs, across the Quad and out Briggs Gate, her hair flying. Her heart pounded as she dodged traffic on College Street. At Shecky’s she threw herself, panting, against the glass door, making the bell jangle as it flew inward. Tim Healy looked up from the cash register. Tim was Lucas’s cousin, a sweet kid who was a few years behind them in school. She ran over to him, struggling to catch her breath so she could get words out.
“What’s wrong, Jenny?” Tim said, looking concerned.
“I’m looking for Kate Eastman and Aubrey Miller. You know them, right?”
“Sure, why?”
“Were they here?” she said.
“Yeah, a little while ago. Kate came in with Lucas. He broke up with her right in front of me. She was flipping out. He borrowed my car so they could go to the old railroad bridge for some privacy.”
“The railroad bridge. When?”
“Maybe like”—he glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall—“an hour ago, more or less. Aubrey came by after they left. She wanted to know where Kate was. I told her, and she took off on her bike.”
“I have to get to the bridge right away. Can you give me a ride?”
“Lucas took my car, and my shift’s not over till eight. Is something wrong?”
Jenny smashed her hand on the counter, on the verge of tears.
“Tell me what the problem is,” Tim said.
“Aubrey’s gone off the deep end because she’s in trouble at school. Now you’re telling me Lucas broke up with Kate. I’m worried about them, Tim, really worried, like they might be a danger to themselves. Please help me.”
“Wait here. I’ll figure something out,” Tim said.
He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a set of keys, shucking his apron and tossing it so it caught on a hook behind the counter.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They raced toward the river in somebody’s ancient pickup truck. Jenny’s once-crisp white blouse showed through in places with sweat, and her knees bobbed up and down frantically.
“Can’t you go faster?” she said.
“Not unless I want to get stopped,” Tim said. “Hey, are you telling me the whole story?”