I watch Officer Simone saunter off, feeling my face heat up with rage. The woman clearly doesn’t know who I am.
“There’s Kara.” Stephanie links her arm with mine, gently steering us to the opposite end of the table from Nicole. I can feel all eyes on us, our classmates watching with bated breath as Nicole and I are forced to share the same table. Kara slides down the bench to make room as we approach.
“How are you holding up, Lan?” She gives me a tight hug. “God, can you believe this?”
I shake my head. “No.”
We watch in silence as the two cops manning the fingerprinting tables go down the line of students, each of our classmates placing their index finger on a silicon surface. A smattering of teachers are mixed in among them, and it’s weird to see how frightened everyone looks, young and old alike. It’s as though every one of us harbors a secret fear that we could be found guilty.
“Group six!” Officer Simone barks into a microphone.
I hang back with Stephanie and Kara as everyone in our group makes their reluctant way to the fingerprinting table. This is one occasion where I definitely don’t want to be first in line.
As we move up, I find myself studying Nicole, who’s toward the front, clutching Brianne’s hand. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in days, her figure weak enough to snap. Is the weight loss from grief or guilt? Or both?
It’s her turn. I watch her attempt to take a breath, and then place her finger on the scanner. And as I watch, a memory flashes in my mind.
I slap my note onto the tree, jabbing it in place with a thumbtack. I stand back, surveying my handiwork.
DID YOU REALLY THINK I’D EVER FORGIVE YOU? WHAT A JOKE! HOPE YOU’RE NOT STILL SCARED OF THE WOODS, BECAUSE NO ONE IS COMING FOR YOU. YOU’RE ALL ALONE, JUST LIKE YOU DESERVE TO BE.
I kick my shoe into the dirt, sending up a spray of soil as the anger floods me anew. I turn on my heel, breaking into a run as I leave the woods behind.
I blink rapidly, trying to shut out the image in my mind, but another is quick to follow.
She walks through the classroom door, and I can barely breathe at the sight. It’s worse than I imagined. A long, jagged mark runs down the length of her cheek, surrounded by puffy, purple-bruised skin. For a moment she meets my eyes, and panic bubbles in my chest. If anyone were to ever find out the truth about that night…I can’t even think about it, I’d be in such deep shit. But she looks away, and then I know. My secret is safe.
Besides, she has to realize—it’s all her own fault.
A wave of nausea washes over me as the memory passes, along with another feeling I didn’t expect.
“I need to get out of here,” I blurt out to Kara and Stephanie.
“We’re up next,” Kara tells me. “It’ll be over in a second.”
“Lana, you’re all sweaty.” Stephanie hands me a tissue, just as Kara gives me a gentle nudge forward. And suddenly I’m face-to-face with a police officer.
“All right, miss, place your finger directly on the scanner,” the officer says in the bored tone of someone doing this all day.
“Okay.”
My finger hits the scanner as I hold my breath.
Our rehearsals for the Philharmonic Contemporary Youth Showcase take place every Saturday and Sunday for the next three weeks, so today I find myself once again boarding the Long Island Rail Road into Manhattan. The last thing I expect is to see Chace Porter joining me on the train platform, as if commuting together is our new normal. But there he is.
“Hey,” he greets me, in the casual tone of someone who doesn’t seem to find this coincidence as surprising as I do.
“Hi. Brooklyn again?” I ask.
He nods.
“Must be some surprise you’re planning.” I smile as my stomach gives a slight twinge. It must be amazing to be cared for the way he cares about Lana.
Just then, the train hurtles into view. Once it slows to a stop, we step off the platform and inside a car, finding a pair of seats together on the upper level.
“I was actually hoping I’d find you here,” Chace says, pulling his iPhone and earbuds out of his backpack. “I remembered this old song from when I was little. My grandfather was really into music, and he used to play it all the time. He kind of raised me, with my parents being so busy. Anyway, I thought of you. I don’t know, maybe it’s something you might want to play.”
He hands me his earbuds, and our fingers touch. I quickly move my hand as a blush creeps up my cheeks.
“That’s so nice of you to think of me,” I tell him. And it’s true; I can’t remember anyone else besides my mom or music teachers ever picking out a song for me.
Sticking the earbuds into my ears, I’m greeted by a distinctly smoky voice.
“Though some may reach for the stars,
Others will end behind bars.
What the future has in store,
No one ever knows before.”
“It’s Nina Simone!” I exclaim. “I love her.”
He grins, and I close my eyes to listen. The rest of the world soon melts away as I fall into the song.
“Tomorrow is my turn,
No more doubts, no more fears
Tomorrow is my turn
When my luck is returning