Todd Strasser - Wish You Were Dead

We sat down. Adam leaned his elbows on the lunch table and interlocked his fingers. He was stocky and broad-shouldered with a five-o’clock shadow that usually began to show up around two. Now, with two days’ worth of dark stubble covering his jaw, and his hair uncombed, he looked ragged and bleary.

“You were the last one to see Lucy,” he said, gazing steadily at me. “Did she say anything?”

“Nothing that, you know, left any hint that she planned to do anything except go home.”

Adam hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. I’d known him for as long as I’d known Lucy, and in many ways we’d been closer friends, something that had always bothered Lucy. Adam, she, and I had been in school together since kindergarten, but Lucy’s relentless competitiveness had always made her harder to trust. You could never be certain that she wouldn’t betray you if it meant winning something she wanted. Adam and I had always felt more naturally comfortable and easy together. We’d shared secrets.

“Why would she run away? Where would she go? It doesn’t make sense.” The questions were rhetorical. No one was in a better position to answer them than Adam himself.

“Is it true that about the police, not looking for her right away?”

Adam shrugged. “They say that’s their policy if there’s no evidence of foul play.” He lowered his voice. “They don’t want every parent in town demanding a full investigation every time a kid decides to sleep at his girlfriend’s house and doesn’t call home. But the Cunninghams told the cops about the bipolar stuff and that all Lucy had on her was her cell phone and keys. No ID. She’d left her wallet home that night. No money or credit cards. No medications. Just the clothes she was wearing.” The anguish in his voice was palpable.

I reached across the table and placed my hand over his. Adam blinked hard and looked away. After a moment he turned back. His eyes were watery and red-rimmed. I could not remember the last time I’d seen him with tears in his eyes. Certainly never after second grade.

“Maybe there was something she said,” he almost pleaded. “Something that sounded totally innocent at the time.”

“There wasn’t, Adam,” I said. “I wish I could say there was, but I’ve thought really hard about it, and there isn’t.”

Adam pressed his lips into a hard, flat line. “I feel awful for her parents. This is the kind of thing they’ve probably been afraid of for years.”

“She could still turn up at any moment,” I said. “For all we know, she just showed up at her front door.” I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

At the same time, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Courtney, a few tables away, watching us. When our eyes met, she quickly looked away. I turned back to Adam. “I heard there were some guys from FCC at the party?”

Fairchester Community College wasn’t a place many kids from Soundview went to, unless they couldn’t get into a four-year school. The lines between Adam’s eyes wrinkled. “Yeah, but … I don’t think Lucy said a word to them. We were pretty much in sight of each other the whole night … I mean, until the argument.”

I kept my hand firmly on his. Strangely, Adam was the one boy my age I felt completely comfortable with physically. Maybe because we’d always been friends and nothing more. “If I can do anything …”

Adam nodded. “Thanks, Mads, I appreciate it.”

Mads was his private nickname for me. I glanced again at Courtney. She was staring at my hand on Adam’s, a look of dismay on her face.

* * *

Str-S-d #7

At school today everyone was talking about how Lucy Cunningham has disappeared. Some people think Lucy ran away and some people think she was kidnapped. I just think, who cares? Good riddance. It’s a relief to walk down the hall without seeing her look at me like I don’t deserve to live. God, I hate her. I’m glad she’s gone and I hope she never comes back.

4 Comments

Realgurl4013 said …

Luuucky you! I wish I could make some of the kids around heeere disappeeear.

IaMnEmEsIs said …

People get what they deserve.

Tony2theman said …

Why be sorry? She sounds like a real bee-ach.

ApRilzDay said …

Don’t you feel a little weird? I mean, isn’t it kind of like your wish really came true?

Tuesday 7:05 A.M.

THE AIR WAS clear and chilly. Val’s and my breaths came out in plumes of white vapor. She was frisky this morning and I sensed that she wanted to canter, but I kept her at a trot because I wanted to think without worrying about where we were going. It was Tuesday, and Lucy was still gone.

The trees were bare, but the ground still had splotches of orange, red, and yellow. As Val trotted down the wooded path, I heard the crunch and clatter of a deer crashing away through the underbrush. It was no use trying to imagine where Lucy was. The night before there’d been rumors and IMs speculating on an impulsive rendezvous with an old camp friend, a chance meeting with an L.A. talent agent, an impulsive fling with one of the guys from FCC who’d been at the party. All were possible. But then again, the impossible never became rumor, did it?

I turned my thoughts to Tyler. Ever since grade school I’d made it a practice every six months to develop a crush on some mysterious boy with whom my path had crossed at a sports field or on vacation somewhere, or in the waiting room at my orthodontist. Usually these mystery crushes were brief and unfulfilled, as I never had the nerve, or guile, to make contact. But with Tyler it was different. He was at school day after day, so there were opportunities aplenty. It was actually hard to come up with excuses for not trying to connect with him. Besides, I kept reminding myself, I was a senior and had never had a real, steady boyfriend. It was my goal to have one by the time I graduated.

The alarm on my cell phone chimed. It was time to turn Val around and head back to the stable, and from there, to school.

When playwrights, novelists, and songwriters wanted to pick a town for their characters to either dream of living in, or to hold up as an example of all that was too materialistic and trendy and chic, they often chose Soundview. Almost everybody who lived here was well-to-do, if not just plain rich. Many drove fancy European cars, had vacation homes at faraway beaches or ski areas, and took several long holidays a year. It was said that Soundviewers exuded an air of entitlement—they felt they deserved the best of everything.

Back in the 1990s, a group of parents, worried that their kids might take “the entitled life” for granted, got together and urged the high school to institute a mandatory community-service requirement. Among the programs kids could choose from were Habitat for Humanity, Meals on Wheels, or Safe Rides. That fall Courtney had signed up for Safe Rides mostly because I had.

“Can you believe Ms. Skelling is calling an emergency lunch meeting?” she asked irritably on the lunch line. Everyone in Safe Rides had gotten e-mails the night before from our faculty advisor. I’d actually been glad, since it would mean seeing Tyler.

“Why can’t it wait?” Courtney went on. “We usually meet on Thursdays. She is such a pain. I wish I’d signed up for Meals on Wheels, except old people creep me out.”