I’m walking out of the school into the bright sunlight, following Harris and Lily. I can’t help but notice Lily and those jeans. The jeans and the top that looks like half a top with tiny little straps. I can’t help watching her even as she occasionally says something and glances back at me. I try to keep my eyes at head level and am reminded again that I need some sunglasses.
I don’t see the cop car until we’re standing on the blacktop of the parking lot.
“Uh-oh,” Harris says. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Sheriff Wells is leaning against the car, looking at us. “How’re you guys doing today?”
We nod and say fine and keep walking.
“Chris—do you have a minute?”
Harris and Lily look at me.
“Sure.”
I can’t help but think this has something to do with Saturday night.
“See you later,” I tell them.
I won’t confess. Not that I really have anything to confess to anyway.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen the sheriff. He’s on my To Avoid list. It’s a pretty long list.
He scratches his gray goatee and then clears his throat. “Summer school, huh?”
I nod.
“Your grades that bad?”
“Guess so.”
He nods, not really sharing what he’s thinking. Then he glances around, even though the parking lot is basically empty.
“That your bike?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“That used to belong to your uncle.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
Calculating eyes cut into me. “Oliver Mateja was found dead this morning.”
For a minute this doesn’t mean anything to me. Ma-tay-hah? Not just the name, but the fact that the sheriff is telling me that someone was found dead.
Jaded to the core. Most kids might freak, but you stand there still thinking about Lily’s jeans.
“Oli,” the sheriff says to clarify.
I want to shake my head as if I have water in my ears and didn’t quite hear that right.
No.
Gus’s ugly, fat face comes to mind, and I know that in some way he was involved. He, or his father, or all of them together.
There’s no way.
I suddenly feel guilty, though I haven’t had any sort of interaction with Oli since the incident in the art room.
When he stuck up for you.
“How’d he die?” I ask.
Trying to stay cool and trying to keep from screaming.
“Drowned.”
That makes as much sense as Oli being dead. I try and think of the places around Solitary he could have drowned.
“Lake Toxaway. I don’t know all the details yet—they’re just coming in.”
Didn’t even know his last name.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“School. That was it.”
I’m feeling a bit woozy, like the sky above me is going back and forth the way it does when you’re on a swing.
“He was part of the crowd giving you a hard time, right?”
I’ve had several conversations with the man in front of me. I’m used to seeing him and his badge and his edge.
They don’t scare me anymore.
I’ve learned there are bigger things to be frightened of.
“Am I a suspect?”
The sheriff shakes his head. “No. It’s being categorized as a drowning, Chris. Not a murder. Do you know anybody who would want to hurt Oliver?”
The guy who moved here with his mother after the divorce happened—that guy would have told the sheriff everything he knew.
The guy who rushed for justice and answers after Jocelyn’s death—yeah, that guy would have told the sheriff everything too.
“No,” is all I can say.
I don’t trust this guy any more than I’d trust Santa Claus if he showed up to teach me summer school.
“Anything you know can help.”
“I don’t know anything about drownings or lakes.”
The sheriff lets out an annoyed curse. “What’s with the attitude?”
“There’s no attitude.”
His face grows grim. “Chris—listen to me. I’m on your side.”
“There are sides?”
He shakes his head, looks around again. “You seen much of Gus this summer?”
“Nope.”
“Any of his friends?”
“Somehow they all managed to escape summer school.”
“Yeah, I see.”
I stand there and wait. Not offering anything. Not sharing the story of how Oli stuck up for Kelsey and me in the art room. How he threatened Gus.
If the sheriff asked me point blank, I’d probably tell him that yeah, sure, I think Gus might’ve killed him.
But that’s not my problem. Oli. Gus. The sheriff. Kelsey.
All on the To Avoid list.
“You staying out of trouble?”
I look at him.
There’s a part of me that has started to hold him responsible for what happened to Jocelyn.
“Have you seen me any this summer?” I ask.
“I’m just trying to help out.”
I nod. “Kinda late to be a hero, isn’t it?”
Sheriff Wells glares at me but doesn’t say anything. I walk away from him.
I feel goose bumps and chills and adrenaline coursing through me as I get on the bike.
You just told off a sheriff.
But I know the guy’s a scared little mouse. He’s not going to do anything to anybody.
I start up the bike and see him still standing by the car.
Just a shadow of a man.
A shadow you can walk straight through.