Tuesday’s soccer practice was brutal. Endless drills, fifteen laps, all topped off with fifty push-ups before quitting time. When the coach finally blew the whistle, Luke started to follow his teammates to the locker room.
“Hey, Chase!” It was Coach Saunders.
Luke walked over to the bench. “Yes, Coach?”
“What was going on out there? You seemed a little sluggish.”
“I’m just tired today, not sure why.”
“Look, I know things are going on with your roommate, but you have to keep your head in the game.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Coach Saunders stared at Luke, weighing a decision. “Want to give me another few laps around the field?”
Luke smiled wearily. “Can I say no?”
The coach shook his head, “Got to keep on you.”
“All right.”
Luke ran one lap before deciding to go back to his locker and get his music. They weren’t supposed to listen to anything during practice, but technically practice was over.
The locker room was empty. Everyone had most likely rushed down to the dorms to get in a little free time before dinner.
Luke walked over to his locker and started to turn the dial, but the door flew open. He must have been so distracted when he was changing that he forgot to lock it. He realized the coach was right: his head wasn’t in the game. It was everywhere else. There was just so much going on, with Oscar, the murder, Pippa, the guy who followed them. Not to mention schoolwork. He was totally overwhelmed.
Luke bent down to retrieve his phone, which had fallen to the bottom of his locker. As his hand grasped it, he felt something that was cold, like metal. There, in the back corner of his locker, was a delicate bracelet. Luke picked it up. It was a thin band of gold, with a diamond nestled into the side opposite the clasp. It looked expensive, and definitely out of place in the boys’ locker room. Whose was it?
Suddenly the door of the locker room banged open. Luke thrust the bracelet in the pocket of his running shorts without thinking.
“It’s over here.”
It was the coach’s voice. Luke heard footsteps approaching. Just as he was pulling his T-shirt over his head, they rounded the corner. It was Coach Saunders, Chief Corcoran, and Mr. P.
“Luke, we didn’t realize you would be here,” said Mr. P. with genuine surprise.
Chief Corcoran narrowed his eyes and looked at Luke with curiosity.
“Just came back to get some tunes,” Luke said, with feigned cheerfulness, holding up his phone and earbuds.
“Well, Luke, this is a bit awkward, but the police would like to search your locker,” said Mr. P.
“My locker?” Luke croaked. Had Coach Saunders known they were coming and sent him out to do more laps?
“Is that okay with you?” said the chief in an accusatory tone. No doubt it wouldn’t have mattered if Luke said yes.
“Sure,” said Luke. He backed away from his locker toward the second row of lockers and leaned against them. Discreetly, he put his hand in his pocket and clasped the bracelet between his fingers. Was this what they were after?
The chief gave him a careful look. “You don’t seem surprised that we want to check your locker.”
“Well, I figure with everything that’s going on with Oscar, I’m sure you have your reasons,” said Luke. Could they tell that his voice was quavering?
“I’m sure there’s nothing there, Chief,” said the coach in a show of support. He gave Luke a slight nod.
“We’ll see,” said the chief. He started on the top shelf, taking out Luke’s deodorant and extra towel. Then he rubbed his hand along the shelf to make sure there was nothing else there. There wasn’t. Following that, he removed Luke’s shirt, sweater, and coat that were hanging on the peg. He felt around on the wall. Finally he bent down. He picked up Luke’s shoes and put them on the bench. He reached into his belt and took out a flashlight, which he shined around the locker.
Luke started sweating. This was intense. He felt his fingers clutching the bracelet, and knew he had to get rid of it as soon as possible. He glanced around the room. What would be the best hiding place? His eyes focused on the lockers. In between each one was a very slight gap. Perhaps the bracelet could fit in there?
Luke started moving back toward the row of lockers behind him. He moved as slowly as possible, so as not to attract attention. Fortunately, the coach and Mr. P. were leaning in and carefully watching the chief ’s every move. Luke discreetly took the bracelet out of his pocket and quickly flattened it against his palm. Then he casually pressed his hand against the wall of lockers behind him, as if he was just leaning on it casually. He deftly wedged the bracelet into the tiny gap between two lockers. Quietly, but with as much small force as he could muster, he pressed it in. Most of it slid through, but there was still a slight edge sticking out. He was manipulating it when the chief spoke, causing Luke to start.
“It’s clean,” said the chief, standing up.
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. P. skeptically.
What was that supposed to mean? Did Mr. P. really think he had anything incriminating in his locker?
“Do I have the right to ask what you were looking for?” asked Luke.
The chief turned and stared him in the eye. “Just had a report that there might be something of the victim’s in your locker. You haven’t seen anything that wasn’t yours in there, have you?”
Luke returned his gaze evenly. “No, sir.”
The chief ’s eyes continued to linger on Luke’s face. “Do you mind if I search you?”
Luke gulped. “Of course not.”
“Is that really necessary?” asked the coach.
“If he doesn’t mind,” said the chief.
“Go ahead,” said Luke.
“Turn around.”
Luke turned. The chief moved his arms out and patted down his body. Luke’s eyes locked on the bracelet. If they really looked around, they might see it. His stomach started to turn as fear crept up his spine. He hoped, more than anything, they wouldn’t notice.
“He’s clean,” said the chief. “Waste of time.”
“Sorry about this, Luke,” said the coach.
Mr. P. patted Luke on his shoulder as he walked away. “You’re a good sport,” he said with a smile.
Luke gave him the fakest grin he could muster. He was furious that he had been questioned. Who told the chief Luke would have something of the victim’s?
“You understand, though, right, Luke?” asked Mr. P. “You’re Oscar’s best friend, his roommate, and we know how close you are. We just had to make sure you wouldn’t cover anything up for him.”
“Oscar’s innocent, Mr. P. So I wouldn’t have to cover anything up for him.”
Mr. P. gave him a long look, which Luke returned defiantly. He was starting to think a bit differently about him. Maybe Mr. P. wasn’t such a nice guy; maybe he was fake. And maybe it was possible he was the one who had been having the affair with Mrs. Heckler.
“Be careful, Luke,” said Mr. P. finally, before joining the chief as he left the building. Luke listened as their footsteps got farther and farther away. Before he made any move, he waited until he heard the locker room door slam. He breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed onto the bench. He had escaped that one. But now what? What should he do with the bracelet? Where could he put it for safekeeping? But more importantly, who had put it in his locker? Could it have been Mr. P. trying to frame him? He didn’t feel like doing those extra laps anymore. Instead, he dressed quickly, without even showering. Before he left, he slid the bracelet back out of the crack and pocketed it.
* * *
When Luke returned to the dorm, he decided to try Oscar again. Maybe he had some idea about the bracelet. Since Oscar had been avoiding him, he had little hope that he would answer this time, so he was stunned when he heard his friend’s voice on the other side of the phone.
“Hello?”
“Oscar! Dude, why haven’t I heard from you?”
“Luke,” Oscar whispered. “Hold on one second.”
Luke waited and heard rustling on Oscar’s end of the phone. He glanced at his watch. He had about five minutes to get to dinner. He couldn’t miss it this time. He’d get detention for sure.
“Luke, it’s a bad time. I can call you back in about fifteen minutes,” said Oscar, when he returned to the phone.
“I can’t, I have dinner. What’s the deal? They won’t let you talk on the phone at all?”
“It’s complicated,” whispered Oscar. “I gotta go.”
He hung up quickly, and Luke replaced the phone. What was going on? Luke glanced around the room in a daze. For the first time since Oscar’s departure, Luke noticed that he had not taken his prized lacrosse stick with him. In fact, most of his things were still there. Which would maybe mean that he thought he was coming back sooner rather than later.
Luke went downstairs, pushed open the front door, and felt the cold on his face. The wind howled, and it was then that he thought of Mr. Tadeckis’s words: “What you don’t realize is that they are all lying to you. All of them. Lying. Your own roommate included.”