10
ALISON WAS WAITING for Ryder in the school lobby. She looked very annoyed, leaning on her right foot, her books pressed hard against her breasts and her lips turned inward.
“Hi,” Ryder said as we approached. “What’s up?”
“I was worried about you when the limousine pulled up earlier and I saw only Sam got out,” she said. “You came on the school bus?” She made it sound like we had come on a garbage truck or something.
She looked at me curiously. I didn’t think Ryder realized it, but he was still holding my hand.
“My stepmother has thrown us into the wicked corner together, so I decided if Fern can’t ride in the limousine to school and back, neither can I.”
“Are you terrified or something?” she asked me, her eyes on our hands.
I let go of Ryder’s quickly. “Yes, I am,” I said. “But I’ll be okay. Ryder and I had a good talk about it on the way to school.”
“Oh? Well, maybe you can have a nice talk about it with me, too, Ryder,” she said. “My parents were bonkers last night as friends called with more details. I hadn’t told them about Joey’s accident and arrest for a DUI. They wanted to know every detail about the party and how close we came to being in the car with Paul. And guess how it ended,” she said. “Just like your father, they now want me to take a break on dates and definitely no parties for the next few weeks. Before I can go to anyone else’s house, they’ll be in there with mine sweepers. Thank you, Joey and Paul, especially idiot Paul. It was really stupid to double-date with him. What were you thinking?” She rattled it all off without pausing for a breath.
“It’ll blow over. Don’t worry,” Ryder told her. He looked at me. “Look for me between classes if you need anything,” he told me. “Stay cool.” He reached for Alison’s hand. She just turned instead, and they started for their homeroom with Ryder continually reassuring her.
I sucked in, gulping air as if I was going under water and, as Mr. Stark might say, girded my loins as my classmates began to converge on me excitedly from all directions, practically drooling with questions. Most didn’t know, of course, that Ryder had sent for Parker to rescue us from Shane Cisco’s party and that I had left without Paul. They fired their questions with AK-47 speed.
Was I at the hospital, too? Did I take any Ecstasy? How was Paul? How much drinking went on? What did my mother have to say? Was I in trouble? Was there a lot of wild sex?
I didn’t answer anything. I just walked to homeroom, shaking my head. They followed like bees hovering over a hive. There was such a mixture of chatter that my head did seem to be spinning even before the bell rang for homeroom and everyone had to take his or her seat.
When the bell rang to go to our first class, they were all over me again. Along with the questions about Paul and Joey Dunsten were questions about how it felt to be prom queen. For a while, I felt like I was two different people, the one who attended the prom and enjoyed herself and the one who had been part of an alcohol and drug orgy. Regardless, I had suddenly been thrust into the spot reserved for the class’s most popular girl. Everyone, even girls who wouldn’t ordinarily give me the time of day, was hanging close, hoping to hear something they could spread. I was a notorious new celebrity, but did I want to be? I wanted to run out of the building.
When I had made it through my first-period class, I thought perhaps the concern about a real police investigation and what could follow was exaggerated, but I wasn’t seated in my second class for five minutes before the class was interrupted by a student messenger from Mr. McDermott, the dean of students, requesting that I come to his office. Everyone watched me rise, gather my things, and leave the room. My heart didn’t feel like it was pounding or thumping this time. It felt like it was buzzing, resembling a warning signal on a fire alarm that had gotten stuck.
The dean’s secretary looked up from her paperwork quickly when I entered the administrators’ offices. From the look on her face, it was easy to see that everyone in my school was lit up with the news about the weekend’s events. The sleepy community of Hillsborough had been awakened and shocked into the realization that we weren’t special, we weren’t immune to the insidious problems plaguing many communities. Every terrible thing that was happening elsewhere with young people could happen here and did. Heads were being pulled out of the sand.
“Go right in. Dean McDermott is waiting for you,” she said, the condemnation darkening her eyes and tightening her lips.
I moved with the tiny steps of a geisha and entered his office. My eyes went immediately to the man sitting on the right in front of his desk. He wore a dark-gray suit and a black tie and had a face chiseled from granite, looking like a man who was incapable of smiling without shattering his cheeks and jaw. His dark eyes focused so sharply on me that I had to turn away quickly, even though that made me look very guilty of something.
“Fern,” the dean said. “Have a seat.” He nodded at the chair directly in front of his desk.
Dean McDermott was the school’s varsity basketball coach as well as the school’s disciplinarian. The boys on his team were consequently the best behaved in the school, and despite the nasty job he had, he was very popular. He was just under six feet tall, with dark-brown, slightly graying hair and kelly-green eyes like Alison’s. No matter how bad the student had been, he always approached him or her with a soft, understanding smile, putting whomever it was at some ease, sometimes warmly enough to elicit a confession at the start. He was smiling like that at me now.
“So you were chosen prom queen,” he said, which put me off-balance immediately. It was the last thing I expected him to mention.
“Yes. It was a big surprise.”
“But I’m sure well deserved. My wife was chosen queen of her high school prom,” he said. “I didn’t know her then, but I was jealous of her prom date anyway.”
He looked at the man seated to his left, but the man, as I anticipated, didn’t smile. He straightened up and pulled his firm-looking shoulders back. He had no time or patience for small talk.
“This is Detective Beck from the Hillsborough Police Department,” Dean McDermott said. He folded his hands and leaned forward. “Paul Gabriel’s serious health episode has everyone quite alarmed. My phone’s been ringing all morning with parents who are very concerned. Of course, everyone wants to know how widespread this is and what we’re doing about it. Now, I . . .”
He paused when we heard a knock on his office door.
His secretary opened it slightly and peered in. “Miss Corey is here,” she said. I instantly felt like I had swallowed a small icicle.
My mother, wearing one of her nicer light-blue dresses and lipstick, which she rarely did, stepped in.
The dean stood. “Miss Corey. Thanks for coming.”
“Of course I would come. I should have been called as soon as the police told you they would conduct interviews in the school today and they would involve my daughter.”
“Absolutely,” the dean said. “You were on our list. You just beat us to it.”
He went around his desk to pull another chair out from the corner of his office and place it right beside mine. My mother looked at me with a comforting smile. When she sat, he introduced her to Detective Beck, who this time smiled slightly and nodded, proving he wasn’t a sculptured block of stone after all.
“Dr. Davenport assured me you weren’t going to begin questioning my daughter until I had arrived,” my mother said.
Dr. Davenport? He had alerted my mother? He had called the school on my behalf?
“Oh. We’ve just introduced everyone here,” the dean said when he returned to his seat. “I was, in fact, congratulating Fern on being chosen prom queen. No specific questions about the issues were asked.”
My mother didn’t change expression. She wasn’t someone easily sold on anything less than the complete truth.
The dean tried a smile but then nodded at Detective Beck when my mother replied with one of her piercing glares. “Why don’t I turn this over to Detective Beck now?” the dean said. “He works narcotics especially.”
My mother barely nodded. Detective Beck leaned toward us. I saw his badge was pinned to his belt, and a little farther back on his hip was his holstered pistol. Even with my mother at my side, I was frightened. This had become very serious, way beyond any ordinary school violation. Detentions and reprimands were left outside the door. Our school had a no-tolerance policy when it came to drug use. Students involved didn’t simply get suspended for a few days; they went to jail, or they could be expelled.
“We’ve been tracking the flow of what kids call ‘party drugs’ into our community, Miss Corey,” Detective Beck said. “People don’t know it in general, but we’ve had a few incidents in the grade school.”
“Grade school?” She looked at me. We were both surprised at that.
“Apparently, some older kids have either made it possible for their younger brothers and sisters to get to the crap or actually gave them some. That’s another investigation, but right now, we want to center in on this prom party and what went on. Your daughter, from what we understand, was the date for the boy who nearly died. Is that correct?” he asked, turning to me.
“Yes,” I said.
“Were these drugs circulated at the actual prom in the school, or did he bring his own?”
“I didn’t see him bring anything or anyone distributing any at the actual prom, so I couldn’t say for sure. We had teacher chaperones, too,” I added, thinking Why not ask them?
“Later, however, they were at the Ciscos’ home, correct? And widely used?”
“I can’t say widely. I don’t know how many took the drug,” I said.
From the way his eyes grew even more steely and the corners of his mouth collapsed, it was clear he didn’t like the way I used exact language, probably sounding more like an attorney. “Did you see Paul Gabriel, your date, take the drugs?”
“No.”
He started to smirk more with disbelief. “Are you going to tell us that you were oblivious to all this going on around you? You didn’t even know there were drugs present?”
“No. It was offered to me,” I said.
“Before she says anything more, I want it understood that she will not be the sole witness to this,” my mother quickly said. “The worst thing you can do is pit one student against all the others. If it comes to that—”
“It won’t. We already have most of the information we were seeking. We simply want more confirmation, as you suggest,” Detective Beck said. He looked at me. “Who offered you the drug?”
So here it goes, I thought. I had begun my school life with a serious disadvantage, like an Olympic swimmer with a lead weight on her ankle. I was the illegitimate child who couldn’t even identify her father. Having only one parent at home wasn’t all that unusual, but it was one thing to be the child living in the home of a divorced parent and another to be like me. There were a number of students in divorced homes at Hillsborough, as there were everywhere. Someone once told me nearly one-third of the marriages in America ended up in divorce. And then there were the many couples who didn’t even bother getting married but lived as though they were, and somehow all this was okay because there was someone who could serve as a mother and a father.
On what level everyone’s behavior was located on the totem pole of disapproval changed almost daily these days. You could live in sin, but you couldn’t sin and go on with a normal life or be a child resulting from that sin. How was I really different from a girl my age who lived with a man and a woman who had never taken an oath of marriage, religious or civil? Why was that fair? And when you were little, only in the first few grades of public school, you had no idea why adults looked at you and whispered. Why wasn’t that cruel?
Nevertheless, lately I thought I was holding my own. I had friends, went to their birthday parties, and hung out with them whenever I could. It seemed to me that the stain that gossip had put on my forehead was fading. Parents were permitting their daughters to be friends with me. No nasty remarks were being cast in my direction, and fewer were being whispered behind my back.
For a while on prom night, I was even a star. Everything negative and unholy about me was certainly completely forgotten. I felt finally fully accepted by everyone, but in a moment, I would, as far as most of the kids in the school believed, probably as most of the kids in every school would believe, become a traitor, a deserter who cared only about herself. It would mean I’d never again be trusted with anyone’s secret. Worse, how could I be invited to anything? If someone did something his or her parents would disapprove of, I might reveal it. If someone tried to defend me, he or she would be quickly reminded about what I had done after the prom. Fern Corey? Didn’t she turn on her friends and help get someone into very serious trouble recently? How could you trust her?
I might as well be homeschooled now, I thought. The choice about how to answer the detective’s question was mine to make, but I must make it now. Refusing to answer would only put me in deeper trouble. It was basically what Dr. Davenport had said and what Ryder had confirmed.
Ryder’s advice actually was more important to me. I knew he was just angry about everything and everyone at the moment because of the way his father had reacted to everything, but I think he meant what he had said on the school bus. At least he would stand by me.
Seeing a man with a badge and a pistol underlined Dr. Davenport’s words, too, obstruction of justice. I could be led out of the dean’s office in handcuffs. My mother would be devastated, and perhaps then Bea Davenport would get her way and have us thrown out, even deported.
No, I really had no choice.
“Barry Austin,” I said.
“He’s a senior,” Mr. McDermott told Detective Beck. “And he has a younger brother in the fifth grade.”
The implication of that rang doom bells. Maybe he was getting it to the grade-school kids, too, through his younger brother. He would surely go to jail. This was going to be a very big scandal in this community.
Detective Beck nodded and came close to smiling, confirming what I suspected: he was eyeing a promotion.
“What did you do when you were offered the drug?” Detective Beck asked.
“I told him I wasn’t interested, and he walked off. I didn’t know that Paul Gabriel had taken something from him,” I emphasized.
“Did he take it after you had left the party?”
“No, before.”
“When did you know he had? Did he tell you? Did he try to get you to join him? Did he help Barry Austin distribute it?”
“No!” I said sharply. “I mean, I didn’t see him do that.”
“But you knew he had taken it. When? How?”
I felt the heat rise into my face. Why did I have to tell everything? “Later,” I said. “We left the basement to get away for a while.”
“Get away? Did you leave the house?”
“No. We went to a quiet room.”
“A bedroom?”
I glanced at my mother. “Yes.”
“And then?”
“He began to act weird.”
“Threatening?”
Tears were coming into my eyes.
“Why is this important?” my mother asked. “She’s told you who distributed the drug. She’s not here to make a claim against the boy.”
“Okay. So what happened? You didn’t go off with Gabriel, apparently.”
“When Ryder realized things were bad, he told me to leave the house with him and Alison.”
“And Ryder is . . . ?”
“He’s Dr. Davenport’s son,” my mother said. “Alison Reuben was his date. The family chauffeur took them all home. His name is Parker Thompson. I’m sure he’ll confirm what she’s saying.”
Detective Beck scribbled something in his small notepad. “Was this the first time this Barry Austin offered you drugs?”
“Yes.”
“He never offered any to you in school?”
“No.”
“Did you see him offer it to anyone in school?”
“No.”
“Did anyone tell you that Barry was the go-to guy if you want drugs?”
“No.”
“So this all came as a complete surprise?”
I just stared at him. What was he hoping I would do, start reading off the names of every student who had told me he or she had done X or something?
“I think she’s told you all she knows,” my mother said.
“You’d be surprised at how many parents around here are shocked at how much their children know and don’t know about all this,” he said.
“I wouldn’t. My daughter and I have a special relationship. We trust each other,” she shot back sharply.
He sat back and nodded at Mr. McDermott.
“I think that will be all for now,” Mr. McDermott said. “We’d appreciate your not talking about this interview,” he added.
“If this goes further and you’re involving my daughter in it any more, we’d like enough warning to have an attorney present,” my mother said, mostly for Detective Beck’s benefit.
He didn’t say anything.
“Of course,” Mr. McDermott said. “Unfortunate situation for us all, but these are the times we live in, I’m afraid.”
“Yes,” my mother said. “These are the times.” She rose.
“Ask Mrs. Blumberg to give you a pass back to class,” Mr. McDermott told me. “I know it seems beside the point right now, Fern, but congratulations again on being chosen prom queen.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I left with my mother.
“Why didn’t you tell me this morning you were coming to school, Mummy?”
“I didn’t know there would be a police detective here to interview you so quickly. From the way Dr. Davenport had spoken in his office, I thought it would be a more formal thing at the police station, or they’d come to Wyndemere to see you. Dr. Davenport informed me an hour ago and told me to come. I called and told Mrs. Blumberg I was on my way.”
“Does Dr. Davenport now believe I took drugs, too?”
“No. If he did, he’d have you examined, I’m sure.” She sighed deeply. The tension seemed to age her years in moments.
“I’m sorry, Mummy.”
“I know. Just do your work, Fern, and obey Mr. McDermott’s and the detective’s wishes and don’t discuss any of this. Tell anyone who asks that the police asked you not to talk about it.”
“That will go over like one of Mr. Stark’s lead balloons,” I said.
“The point is, it will go over.” She kissed me and left.
I turned to Mrs. Blumberg, who had been watching us with great interest. “I need a pass, please,” I said. She had it written already and handed it to me. I started to turn away.
“Just a minute,” she said. She reached beside her chair and came up with my prom queen crown and an envelope with my prom pictures in it. “I believe this belongs to you. It was brought here a little while ago.”
I took it slowly. The dazzling fake jewels almost brought me to tears. How could I walk around with this?
“Thank you,” I said, and hurried out, stopping at my locker first to put away the crown and the pictures.
I took my time walking back to class. Before I opened the door, I breathed in deeply, as deeply as someone about to go diving in a pool, someone who had no idea what it would be like when she came up.
All heads turned my way as soon as I entered. I went right up to Mr. Albert and gave him my pass. He nodded, and I returned to my seat, keeping my eyes forward.
“We’re on page forty-one of the textbook, Fern,” Mr. Albert said.
I turned right to it and avoided looking at anyone looking at me, but when the bell rang to end class, they practically smothered me, closing in to find out what had happened in the dean’s office.
“I’m not permitted to say anything,” I said, hurrying away from everyone.
That became my stock answer until lunch hour, when I entered the cafeteria alone and looked for Ryder and Alison. To my surprise, every seat at their table was taken, mostly by Alison’s girlfriends. Ryder nodded at me. I went to get my lunch and then looked for a place to sit. Everyone who had been friends with me was urging me to sit at their table. They all believed I would finally talk to them and tell them everything.
I stood there, undecided and feeling stupid, when suddenly Ryder approached me. He was carrying his tray.
“We’ll sit over there,” he said, nodding at an empty table on our right that was as far from other students as we could get.
I looked back at his table. Alison did not look very happy. I expected she would join us, but she didn’t.
“I was called to the dean’s office shortly after you left,” he said. “Everyone knows we both were. What did you tell them?”
“The truth, just as you and your father advised me to do.”
He nodded.
“My mother was there.”
“I heard.”
“Your father called her and told her to be sure to call the school and be here when I was going to be interviewed. I was surprised he did that.”
“He’s really fond of your mother. I’ve heard him give her credit for lots at Wyndemere, especially when Bea complains and mentions her. Anyway, at least you had your mother there. My father left me to the wolves. It’s his way of teaching me a lesson.”
“What did you tell them?” I asked him.
“That Barry offered me some X, too, and Alison. Of course, we both refused.” He took a breath and in a lower voice added, “She might not have refused if I wasn’t there. Anyway, they wanted to know if it was the first time. I didn’t lie. I’ve never used it. My father would kill me, but I’ve been to other parties where Barry either sold it or gave it away. Then I described everything I could remember from the time I heard you scream. I made sure to emphasize that you hadn’t taken any, nor did you drink anything alcoholic. I admitted to drinking a few beers.” He shook his head. “It ain’t good,” he said.
“Paul’s mother or someone brought my crown and pictures to the school. The dean’s secretary had it all for me when I came out of his office.”
“Me, too.”
“I put mine in my locker.”
“Me, too,” he said. “Uh-oh, here it goes,” he added.
We both paused to look across the cafeteria, where Barry Austin, sitting with some of his closer friends, was approached by Dean McDermott himself. The entire cafeteria grew silent, but we couldn’t hear what he said to him. Whatever he said was enough to get Barry up. He followed the dean out, and the chatter resumed, only at a greater volume.
Shane Cisco and Billy Wilcox rose from their table immediately and hurried over to us.
“You guys told on Barry?” Shane asked.
Billy Wilcox, another member of the baseball team, had his arms at his sides, his hands clenched. He was almost Paul Gabriel’s height but better built because he was also a member of the school’s wrestling team.
“Whatever trouble Barry’s in is Barry’s own fault, Shane. And you should have thought of your parents when you let all that go on at your house.”
“At the end of my last class, I heard for sure that Paul’s being thrown off the team,” Billy said. “He’s screwed.”
“Whose fault is that? Maybe Barry’s for bringing the drugs to your house, Shane. You shouldn’t have let him,” Ryder said. “You should have laid down some rules.”
“Oh, so I’m to blame? This is the first time you’ve seen people take X? What are you, the doctor’s perfect little patient?”
“You’d better shut your mouth, Shane. You’re just digging a deeper hole for yourself.”
Shane looked at me. “There was a cop here, and you were called in to see him, too. You told him about Barry, didn’t you? Did you tell him about anyone else, too?”
“I was told not to discuss it,” I said.
“She didn’t have to tell him anything. They knew everything. Maybe you told him to get yourself out of big trouble,” Ryder cleverly inserted. “Otherwise, why wouldn’t the dean have taken you out of here along with Barry Austin?”
Billy’s eyebrows lifted with the oncoming cloud of new suspicions. He looked at Shane.
“That’s crap,” Shane said.
“Is it? It all happened in your house. Your parents could have legal issues, too, and they know it. Maybe they had their attorney talk to the police yesterday, and everything’s been arranged to save you rear end.”
“Bullshit.”
Ryder shrugged. “If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut, then. Spreading stories about Fern and me isn’t going to help. It’s only going to add gasoline to the fire.”
“Fern and you,” Shane said, practically spitting our names at us. He turned to Billy. “Let’s leave the stoolie birds alone.”
Billy looked at Ryder and me and hesitated a moment. He didn’t look as confident as he had when he first approached us. “Why’d you leave Paul behind, Ryder?” he asked. “You saw how he was.”
“He was bad, Billy. He went wild on Fern. You weren’t upstairs to see it. I was hoping he’d just sleep it off there, but he had a bad physical reaction and had to be in the hospital. No matter what I would have done, he would have been discovered or died, maybe. Of course, I’m sorry he’s off our team, but he’s still alive, thanks to my father.”
Billy nodded slightly and caught up with Shane.
“You really think that’s true? That Shane told first, that his parents made some sort of deal?” I asked.
“We’ll see. You can see how they are, eager to blame someone else for everything. Just suggest the possibility of what I suggested if anyone really bothers you. The best defense is an offense anyway.” He smiled.
I looked across at Alison. She looked even angrier than before. Shane’s words echoed in my mind: Fern and you.
It was crazy, but in the midst of all this trouble, something made me happy.
When the bell rang to end lunch, Ryder waited for Alison. I saw him arguing with her as they left.
Tara Morton caught up with me first. “What was that all about? Is Barry going to be arrested?”
“I don’t know. I’m not supposed to talk about it, but I can tell you the police knew a lot,” I said, “and not because of me or Ryder. There’s been a lot going on. You know some of it yourself. What happened to Paul just brought it to a head.”
“Are you saying that any of us who used X could be in trouble?”
I knew what she was searching to discover. Had I turned in anyone else? “I don’t know anyone specifically who used it, Tara. Do you? Because if you keep talking about it, one of the teachers might hear you and report you, and then you’ll be called in to meet with a detective.”
Her face went from red to yellow like a traffic light. She nodded and faded back to relay what I had said to the others. Maybe it got the claws off my back for the rest of the day, but I was certainly not the star I had been on prom night.
When the bell rang ending the last class, I hurried to leave the building. Then I hesitated, deciding whether to get my crown and pictures out of the locker, but decided it would only create more curiosity. I just wanted to get home and into my room as quickly as I could.
The air of doom had settled in every room in the school and was darkening every corner. Before the seventh period had begun, word was spread with lightning speed that Barry Austin had been taken out of the building in handcuffs and might be expelled, even if he didn’t go to jail. Of course, I knew there was more to it than merely a bunch of kids using Ecstasy at a house party. I didn’t want to hear about it and feel everyone’s accusing eyes on me.
Ryder had baseball practice today. I wondered how that was going to go. If his teammates listened to Shane Cisco and blamed Ryder for what had happened to Paul, he was sure to be in for a bad time. I hurried toward the school bus and then stopped halfway there when I saw Ryder waiting for me.
“Why aren’t you going to practice?” I asked.
“I need a day,” he said. He looked very unhappy. “Alison and I had a fight. C’mon.” He nodded to the steps on the bus, and I got in and sat quickly.
“What happened?” I asked as soon as he sat beside me.
“She thinks I ruined her prom because I wanted you to be happier than she was. That was why I arranged for Paul to take you. She went on again about your wearing my mother’s dress. What’s really bothering her is now she’s grounded for a while. It didn’t do any good to point out that so were we.”
“I know she would have rather you had taken her in the limousine. She told me so. The double-dating had never really excited her. She wasn’t really excited about helping to pick out your mother’s dress. I’m sorry. I feel like this was all my fault.”
“It wasn’t all your fault. Forget about it. Get ready for my stepmother. She’ll be worse than the detective. She’s in a rage about my not going in the limousine this morning and Sam’s hysterics.”
I knew he was right. The worst was yet to come.