Degree of Difficulty: A numeric value assigned to each dive indicating how hard a particular dive is to execute. Also known as a dive’s tariff.
I SQUEEZE the steering wheel and adjust my sitting position. Chip and I have been driving around for an hour, drinking coffee and rehashing the meet. Mostly I’ve been listening to Chip spew theories on why Rocco would perform Les’s dive. Or even try a dive that’s beyond his ability in the first place. In between his understandable bouts of confusion, I’ve been trying to get ahold of GP and Iris. I’m nodding in response to Chip so much at this point my neck hurts.
But I’m a goddamn liar, and I can’t take anymore.
“I knew.” My whisper roars into a shout. “I fucking knew, goddammit.” I slam my palm against the steering wheel repeatedly, then pull to the side of the road and snap the shifter into park.
“Fuck!” To hell with constant control.
Yelling feels good.
“What do you mean you knew?” Chip asks.
“I gave Les’s dive to Rocco. That’s the deal we made after he caught us in McGee’s office. And I think I knew he was gonna get hurt before it happened.”
No—not think—I knew. I saw. I just didn’t see.
“That’s what Rocco wanted when he said you owed him one?” Chip’s voice is hushed by disbelief and confusion.
“Give him Les’s dive or he’d tell the Andover coaches we broke into their office. He asked me for Adderall too. Jeezus. Monarch Night. Rocco floating facedown on the water. I saw this coming before it happened.” I hang my head, but it doesn’t stop my heart-pounding panic.
“Whoa. Slow down,” Chip says. “You’re not making any sense.”
I run through everything I know in greater detail starting with the newspaper articles all the way through Monarch Night and GP’s cancer. He listens without a peep when I say it’s possible I have a genetic propensity toward level-fifty freak-outs. And then I tell him what else has come true. The water turning red before my eyes, bloody Andover Shark-infested waters. I recount what Iris and I overheard at Green Hill, and everything we know about Luanne Cole and her sister, the story about Mom’s past, even a little about Iris’s mom. All of it. Every deplorable word up to Rocco’s accident.
It sounds bat-shit crazy and unreal to my own ears. Except it is real. I just watched it unfold.
Chip exhales loudly. “I’m not gonna lie, bro. I’m kind of pissed you didn’t tell me about this stuff sooner. But now that I’m in, I’m in. What’s plan B?”
“I didn’t have a plan A. Everything’s so screwed up, and all I can think is that I’m some sort of freak. And nobody wanted to tell me. Not even my own mom.”
“You’re not a freak, bro. You’ve got a freaking superpower. And from now on I’m your sidekick on all things freak-out. But I have to ask, have you been able to tell when I’d win a race?” His eyes go wide. “Or when I’m gonna get laid?”
“Since when have those things needed to be predicted in advance?”
“True,” Chip says. “Too true. But if you were to see something about me, you’d tell me, right?”
I can’t help but think of Iris. “Would you want me to?”
“Hell yes.”
I chew the inside of my cheek and stare through the windshield at nothing in particular. “You think Rocco’s gonna be okay?”
“Shit. I hope so.” Chip runs his hands over his head. “That freaked me out.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No pun intended. Call your mom and tell her you’re gonna be out late tonight.” I restart my engine. “We’re going to the hospital to check on Rocco. Then we’re gonna go find Iris and talk to my grandfather about what just happened.”
* * *
AMY’S PANICKY voice meets us at the entrance to the emergency waiting room. “Chip! Oh my God. Where were you guys? I got your message over an hour ago.”
I watch them hug. Amy’s white-blond hair, pulled high and tight in a ponytail, swooshes behind her studded ears when they collide. She makes eye contact with me over Chip’s shoulder, then wipes away mascara-streaked tears.
“You okay?” she asks.
I’m the opposite of okay.
The sterile smell of the hospital causes tension to mount inside me like a pressure cooker. We take adjoining seats. Amy is sandwiched between Chip and me. We all hold hands, staring at our dull reflections in the hospital’s darkened windows. Hear no, see no, speak no evil.
I stare at the hairline cracks in the dingy linoleum beneath my feet. There isn’t enough disinfectant in the world to make this floor appear clean. And I’m just as tainted inside. Drinking a bottle of disinfectant wouldn’t change the fact that Rocco is in here in part because of me.
The attending physician rounds a corner, grim-faced, running a hand through his dark wavy hair. The set of his mouth makes my chest tighten.
“Is one of you kids Theo Mackey?”
I untangle my hand from Amy’s. “I’m Theo.”
“I’m Dr. Bloomquist. I have a few questions to ask regarding your friend Rocco.”
“How is he?”
“Alive, but his skull is fractured.”
Amy sucks in a gasp.
“The question I have for you is in regard to the drugs we found in his system. There’s a family member claiming you provided Rocco with performance-enhancing drugs. Drugs that he took before diving tonight. Is that true?”
I spot the cop watching us and try not to hurl.
“Rocco asked me for some of my Adderall capsules,” I say.
“You shouldn’t share prescription drugs with people to whom they aren’t prescribed. That being said, what we found in Rocco’s system were traces of amphetamines, neuroleptics and psychotropics. In order to treat your friend effectively, Theo, I need to ask you again if you gave him anything else?”
“Nothing. I swear.”
“Can we see him?” Chip asks.
“Not yet, I’m afraid. Family only. But you’re welcome to wait here.” The physician gives me a dubious look. “We also put a call in to”—he scans Rocco’s medical chart—“Dr. Maddox over at Green Hill. Rocco’s cousin informed us that your uncle was treating Rocco for a separate, personal issue. He’s on his way. But in the interim we’re trying to gain as much information as possible in order to help your friend.”
Through all of this I hear four things running like a background track on repeat: Dr. Maddox, on his way, neuroleptics, and psychotropics.
The doctor’s voice sucks me out of my black hole and I think he may have been talking the whole time.
“If there’s anything else I should know, now would be the best time to tell me.” The doctor waits several seconds before I shake my head. “Okay. We’re keeping Rocco in a coma until the swelling in his brain goes down. We’ll keep doing everything we can, but if you think of anything else don’t hesitate to come forward.”
“Coma,” Amy whispers. “Oh my God.”
“That’s a good thing,” Dr. Bloomquist says, patting Amy’s shoulder before he leaves.
Pressure and guilt push at me from all sides but I barely have time to take a breath before Les-freaking-Carter struts into the waiting room. He stops short when he catches the grave look on all our faces, but if our expressions serve as warning it doesn’t stop him from running his mouth.
“What’s going on? Miles just told me Rocco’s in a coma because Theo gave him drugs before the meet that messed him up.”
That’s it—
I fly from my seat and pin Les against a wall, pressing my forearm against his throat. He tries to speak, but I’m crushing his windpipe. His face reddens and I keep pressing, hoping his head turns purple and bursts so I can be rid of him for good. Chip rips me away, leaving Les gasping for air.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Chip asks between gritted teeth. “Control yourself, bro. There’s a freaking cop walking around and you’re suspect numero uno.”
I jerk away from Chip and walk to the windows.
But then Les says, “What’s his problem?” and I lose it again.
Spinning back, so pissed I could spit blood. If it weren’t for Chip, jumping between us, I’d strangle him again.
“You’re my fucking problem,” I tell Les. “Why are you even here right now? Aren’t you supposed to be throwing some stupid victory party?”
“Les drove me here. Sheesh,” Amy says. “What’s gotten into you? I was at his house trying to get everyone out who wasn’t at the meet when I got Chip’s call.”
What’s gotten into me? That’s the question of the hour, maybe the year.
“I have as much right to be here as you,” Les says. “More actually.”
“More? Are you fucking joking? You and your stupid 4½ twists are partially responsible for this.”
“Christ, Mackey. Is that what this is about? My dive? Fine. It was Rocco who trained with me over the summer. But at one point, I asked to train alone because I knew the 4½ Twist would be a kick-ass dive for our team. I could have given Rocco the dive myself anytime. He and I are together. There. I said it. Even if he didn’t want you to know.” Les swallows uncomfortably. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks, about a lot of stuff, but you always blow me off. But I tried, man. I really did. And I hate to say this, because I’m really into the guy, but Rocco played you.”
“Just Rocco? You’re the one who left those articles on my truck.”
“I didn’t leave you any articles. I left you a note on my way into school once because I dropped my phone in the pool at practice.”
“Then who did?”
Les drops a hand on top of his head as he nails the truth. “Miles. That little shit asked me to pull an old newspaper from the archives. Said he needed it for homework. I pulled the edition but I didn’t look at the content.”
Rocco’s little birdie.
He’s—what did Iris call him—a viceroy in a monarch suit?
“I’ve been trying to warn you that Rocco wanted to know what dive I had up my sleeve. He was so pissed about it his parents sent him to see Dr. Maddox to help him with the pressure of diving at a new school. But I don’t think your uncle helped him all that much because whenever Rocco would come back from his appointments he’d go off about how you weren’t God’s gift to diving and you needed someone to knock you off your pedestal.”
“So why didn’t Miles give him the dive if Rocco wanted it so bad? Rocco’s been harping on me since I made captain.”
“I’m guessing he wanted to see if he could get you to betray your own team.”
To sabotage me. Rocco, not Les.
“No Worries, Mr. Perfection. I’m good at keeping secrets. But you’re gonna owe me one.”
“Shit,” I mutter. Then add a few more choice words because even after everything I did see, I was blind.
“Miles snitched on me for trying to talk to you.” Les says. “Rocco and I got into a huge fight about it. He was convinced I told you we were together. I still don’t get why that’s such a big deal.”
“Maybe because Rocco tried to kiss me once when we were freshmen and I sort of freaked,” I tell Les. That’s my best guess. “Not because I have a problem with him being gay. I just wasn’t expecting it and he took be by surprise.”
“You kissed him?” Les asks. I see the hurt in eyes.
I shake my head. “No. I pushed him, which is worse.”
“Hold up,” Chip says, looking at Les. “You and Rocco are together? Like together together? Didn’t you go to prom junior year with that chick Carly Whatsername with the huge—” He holds two invisible basketballs in front of his chest.
“Chip!” Amy scolds. “Why does that matter?”
“The guy just took the term come-out as a diver to a new level. I was merely making an observation.”
I get Chip’s diving joke, but can only think about what Les just said. Together. He played you. Miles. I’m a fucking idiot. That’s why Miles asked if we were secretly being gay. Rocco’s presence at the dive demo wasn’t about me at all. He was watching Les. I should have figured out they were together by the way they were acting at Monarch Night.
I wasn’t paying attention to the damn signs.
“Les, man. I’m sorry. I screwed up. Rocco had me over a barrel on something and I thought giving him your dive was my only way out.”
“And the drugs?” Les asks.
“He asked me for some Adderall to give him an edge. That’s it. I swear. I don’t know what that doctor’s talking about.”
Unless …
Acid Dreams, Hallucinations, Mycology, Manifesting Minds.
Holy fuck. The books on Uncle Phil’s shelves said it all. He had Coach Porter’s picture inside Manifesting Minds. His knuckles looked scraped, maybe from trashing Coach McGee’s office. He’s the one who told me he didn’t think I’d find anything at the county clerk’s office. My body goes rigid. This was a lady that came asking. Southern. Polite.
Lianne-fucking-Cole. His favorite pet.
“I know how pushy Rocco can get when he wants something,” Les is saying. “As long as he’s okay, that’s what matters.”
“Listen, Les.” I cut him off. “I know this might sound insensitive, but I have to go find my grandfather before Dr. Maddox shows up.”
“I get it,” Les says. “Rocco’s parents are pissed and they’re blaming you.”
He doesn’t get it. Not entirely. But that’s okay because I think I do.
“I have to go with Theo,” Chip tells Amy. “Are you okay catching a ride with Les?”
“Of course. You’re not the only one with bros.”
I look at Les with remorse and he says, “It’s okay, Mackey. Go. I got this.” And I know it’s true.
* * *
THE AUTOMATIC doors of the Ellis Hollow Medical Center split open from the center, freeing me from the fluorescent guilt chamber. The harsh wind beyond the doors whips across my face, forcing its way into my mouth and nose. I gulp the air before it enters my lungs like it’s some sort of elixir sent to cool the blistering thoughts suffocating me.
“Rocco tried to kiss you when we were freshmen?” Chip asks. “Really?”
“The night of the fire.”
His eyes are growing wide with shock, too wide for the confession, and before I know what’s happening I walk straight into Phil Maddox.
“Theo.” He grabs my arms to steady me. “I thought you might be here checking on your friend.”
I twist out of his grasp. “More like covering your mess.”
Sometimes blurting is warranted. Despite what my mom said.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. What the hell have you been giving me because I’m not sure it’s Adderall.”
“Even if that were true, no drug can enhance what isn’t already there. You have your mother’s gift, the ability to see in your mind what you haven’t yet observed. I merely gave that ability a nudge.”
I feel a new surge of anger. “Is it a gift or were you manifesting my mind for your own agenda? Maybe I should go piss in a cup for the doctor who’s working on Rocco to be sure?”
“If you think they’d be able to explain your gift, be my guest. But you might want to know what’s at stake first.” He gives Chip a dismissive glance. “If you wait here we can discuss this privately when I’m through. The middle of the sidewalk is hardly the time or place to—”
“We don’t have anything else to discuss. But good luck in there with Rocco’s family. You’re gonna need it when you explain why he has mind-tripping drugs in his system.”
“He got those from you, didn’t he? That’s what the doctor insinuated when he called.”
“Lucky for me GP and Curtis are already working on whether or not that’s true.”
I turn and pull a stunned Chip away from the hospital knowing I have more explaining to do.
“Theo, come back here. You’re making a serious mistake. We’re family.”
“No, we’re not. You’re not my goddamn uncle. And you were never my dad’s friend.”
I keep walking and don’t look back, even when he says, “This won’t end the way you think. We’re not through here.”