Todd Strasser - Wish You Were Dead

“I guess we’ll see pretty soon,” I said, wondering what was really bothering her. “So … still no news about Lucy.”

Courtney slid her tray down the rail and said nothing. One of my faults, I’d been told, was that because I hated confrontations. I always went out of my way to be nice and undemanding. And that sometimes worked against me because some people thought they could step all over me. So I was trying to be more assertive.

“I thought we told each other everything,” I said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Courtney kept her eyes averted.

“Lucy … and you and Adam.”

“Why ask me?” my friend said.

“Because yesterday morning Jen seemed to think there was something going on between you two, and because I saw the way you looked at Adam at lunch yesterday.”

Courtney reached for a steaming bowl filled with the most unappetizing spaghetti and meatballs I had ever seen. “I think you’re imagining things, okay?”

I thought I wasn’t, but I also sensed that this wasn’t the time to push the topic harder. We were supposed to eat quickly and then head for the science lab, the regular Safe Rides meeting place, because Ms. Skelling taught chemistry. I picked at my salad while Courtney hungrily gobbled down the spaghetti and meatballs, then we headed toward the cafeteria exit.

Out in the hall we passed my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Towner. She was a tiny woman, not even five feet tall, and was very pregnant. She was walking slowly, with one hand on her swollen belly and the other on her hip. I gave her a friendly wave and she smiled weakly.

“Women are so not meant to be pregnant,” Courtney whispered with a wink.

As we passed the girls’ room I stopped. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Courtney scowled. “It really ticks Ms. Skelling off when we’re late.”

“I’ll just be a second. Go ahead.”

The scowl became a knowing smile. “Yah-ha! Let’s look nice for Tyler?”

“Don’t be so smart,” I said, and went in. At the mirror I touched up my hair and makeup. It felt wrong to be thinking about my looks and Tyler when Lucy was missing, but there was still no reason to believe that anything bad had happened. There had to be lots of innocent explanations for her disappearance, even if we couldn’t think of them.

I’d only meant to be a second in the girls’ room, but I guess I dawdled because when I got to the Safe Rides meeting everyone was already seated on stools at the lab tables.

“Why Madison, we’re so glad you could take time from your busy schedule to join us,” Ms. Skelling said with her unique way of gilding sarcasm with gentility. The Safe Rides advisor affected a slightly regal demeanor that some kids thought was obnoxious. She frequently hinted that she came from a well-to-do family in the area known as the Main Line outside Philadelphia.

“Sorry, everyone,” I said. Just about every stool was taken, except for one next to Tyler. It was almost a dream come true. I sat down next to him and he gave me a slight nod.

Ms. Skelling was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with bright, dyed red hair. She was new at our school that year and tended to wear too much mascara and eye shadow, favored copious amounts of vintage costume jewelry, and preferred name-brand outfits from Chanel, Dior, and Cardin that, given her teacher’s salary, I had to believe came from thrift shops. She often wore her blouses with one extra button open, revealing crevice-like cleavage, which the boys craned their necks to enjoy and, some girls suspected, was not of entirely natural origins.

“We were just talking about Lucy Cunningham,” she said. “You’re part of that crowd, Madison. What have you heard?”

There it was again—the same thing PBleeker had said. Maybe, if I was part of “that crowd,” it was because they were the only ones who invited me to do things with them.

I shook my head. “The same rumors everyone else has heard.”

“Someone said the police aren’t investigating,” said Dave Ignatzia, a slightly built guy who wore thick glasses and whose dark hair fell down on his forehead. “They don’t consider you a missing person unless you’ve been gone at least a week. What if she’s been kidnapped? By the time a week passes, it could be too late.”

“Dude, if she’s been kidnapped, someone’ll get in touch with her parents asking for ransom,” Tyler said.

“Unless they didn’t kidnap her for money,” Courtney pointed out.

“You mean, like they’re holding her as a sex prisoner?” Behind the thick glasses, Dave’s eyes went wide.

“Easy, Dave, keep your pants on,” said Sharon Costello, the squat, broad-shouldered half of an inseparable duo. Seated beside her was Laurie Clark, a tall, quiet girl who often came to school with greasy, unwashed hair.

“Screw you,” Dave stammered.

“You wish,” Sharon baited him.

“With you? No way,” Dave shot back. “I’d rather stay a …” He trailed off, but it was too late. Sharon pounced.

“A virgin?” she cackled. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Dave’s face turned red. “No.”

“Yes, it was!” Sharon insisted gleefully.

“S-so? Look who’s talking,” Dave sputtered. “You’re probably a virgin for life.”

“Only in your narrow definition of the word,” Sharon shot back, resting her hand on Laurie’s forearm.

I glanced at Ms. Skelling, who normally didn’t tolerate such banter in her presence, but the chemistry teacher was staring out the window, almost as if she were in a daze.

“Isn’t a week a long time?” asked shy, mousy Maura Bresliss in barely more than a whisper.

The sound of her voice seemed to bring Ms. Skelling back to the room. She turned her gaze on Tyler and me. “You’re both aware that you’re supposed to stay until the client enters the house. Please tell me why standard operating procedure wasn’t followed?”

It caught me by surprise when Tyler had cocked his eyebrow at me as if to let everyone know that it was my responsibility to answer. For a moment I felt a twinge of resentment, but then I told myself that perhaps he was right. After all, I had been the one who’d urged him to leave Lucy standing there in the dark.

I could have said that Lucy was being a total jerk, but that wasn’t the point. Jerk or not, we were supposed to wait. That’s why they called it Safe Rides and not just Rides.

“It was late and I was tired,” I said. “I didn’t think—”

“Obviously,” Ms. Skelling interjected. “Or, more precisely, you did think … but only about yourself. Really, Madison, what is the first thing you learned about people who’ve been drinking? They can’t be expected to make responsible decisions. That’s what you’re supposed to do for them. If Lucy didn’t get to her house, it’s probably because she made an irresponsible decision to go somewhere else.”

“Or someone abducted her,” Dave reminded everyone.

“Nobody abducted her,” Courtney said irritably.

“How do you know?”

“Because this is Soundview , Dave.” Courtney may have sounded just a little bit haughty, but she actually reflected the way most of us felt. Our parents had moved here for the excellent schools, and because it was safe and secure. The worst crimes were usually DWIs and, now and then, a break in.

Besides, to kidnap or abduct someone, you had to know where they’d be so you could lie in wait for them. Lucy’s call to Safe Rides didn’t come in until after two thirty. The only people who could have known where she was going were a few at the party.

And the people in this room …

But before I had time to think about that, Ms. Skelling turned on me again. “I think it’s important for you to understand the gravity of what you’ve done, Madison. You know I don’t like to single people out, but honestly, you’ve jeopardized the whole purpose of this group. Who’s going to call a service that lost someone? And why are we in this spot? Because you, my dear, selfishly put your need for sleep ahead of someone else’s safety.”