Todd Strasser - Wish You Were Dead

I wasn’t sure what hurt more, the harshness of her criticism or the fact that no one in the group came to my defense. In particular, I felt let down by Tyler, who was—at least in some part—responsible, too.

The meeting ended. Usually I left with Courtney, but she popped up and exited the room before I had a chance to join her. Instead, I found myself leaving the lab at the same time as Tyler. Walking beside him in the noisy, crowded hall, I had mixed feelings. Part of me hoped we might pick up where we’d left off early Sunday morning, when he’d said he thought I was pretty nice. But another part was still feeling humiliated by what Ms. Skelling had just said. Meanwhile Tyler hardly looked at me as we walked down the hall.

“Listen, this isn’t an excuse,” I said, “but I have to believe that we’re not the first crew who ever left someone before they got into their house.”

Tyler glanced briefly at me and kept walking. Part of me wanted to turn away in another direction, but another part of me yearned to hear him reply. Besides, I couldn’t quite believe he’d be so rude that he wouldn’t answer.

Just when I concluded that he was ignoring me, he suddenly stopped and turned to me. Why did I find his gaze so unsettling? Was it his dark hair and eyes? His confidence? I felt goose bumps rise on my skin, and a singular thought burst into my head. I didn’t want him to talk. I wanted him to scoop me into his arms and kiss me. Right there in the hall. In front of everyone. I didn’t care. I wanted to feel his arms around me. I wanted to be enveloped in his intensity.

Instead he said, “Things like this happen for a reason.”

It felt like I’d been in a hot shower that had suddenly turned freezing cold. “What does that mean?”

“Just what I said.”

I stared at him, not comprehending. Maybe I wasn’t able to comprehend because part of me was still in that fantasy where he took me in his arms. Tyler frowned and then continued on, leaving me staring, perplexed, at the back of his long black coat.

Tuesday 4:43 P.M.

Poor Lucy, look at you, shivering and dirty. Thirsty, you say? Yes, we imagine you would be. Feels terrible, doesn’t it? You’d give anything for a drink of cool clear water right now, wouldn’t you? Just think of that fresh water. Imagine how good it will feel going down your parched throat. Yes, we have it right here. All the water you can drink. All you have to do is beg. Sorry? Is this degrading? Really? But just think of how degraded you’ve made others feel. Never thought about that, did you? All the pain and misery you caused. You say you realize it now? We’re proud of you, Lucy. What? The water? Did we really say you could have all the water you wanted? Silly us. Sorry, you’re not getting any.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU want to do on Thursday?” Sharon asked Laurie as they walked home after field-hockey practice on Tuesday afternoon. The day had started sunny but turned gray and cold. Both girls wore sweats and hoodies with their hands jammed into the pockets.

“I don’t know,” Laurie answered.

No surprise , Sharon thought. Laurie never knew what she wanted to do. She never made suggestions, or had a plan. She was like clay, willing to be molded into anything you wanted.

“Well, what do you think you want to do?” Sharon asked.

“I don’t know.”

Sharon sighed irritably. Could anyone really be such a total blank? “Do you want to go to the movies? Or the mall? Or stay home and watch TV?” “Any of them is fine,” Laurie answered with a smile.

“I think we should go to the movies,” Sharon said. “And let’s go out to eat first. What do you want to eat?” “I don’t care.”

“Pizza or Chinese?”

“You decide.”

“Why can’t you ever decide?” “I don’t know. You’re the one who always likes to decide.” “Just for once, I want you to decide.” “But I don’t care.”

“How can you not care?” Sharon asked.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s not that important to me. It seems way more important to you, so you decide.” Sharon wanted to scream … or hit her. Why, of all the girls in the world, had she gotten stuck with such a wuss? Why couldn’t she have met someone … anyone else? But that was the problem with a place like Soundview. There were just the two of them. And if there was anyone else, she was either in deep denial or deep in the closet. So for now Sharon was stuck with this one. But not for much longer. She was counting the days. As soon as high school was over, she was off to San Francisco and a whole new life.

“Okay,” she said, “pizza and then the movies.” “Fine,” said Laurie.

“There’s that new Claw movie,” Sharon said. “It’s supposed to be really scary.” “Okay.”

“But there’s also that comedy? The one about the guy who has to hide out in the all-girl school?” “Sounds good.”

“So which one do you want to see?” “Either one.”

“Don’t you ever have an opinion about anything?” Sharon asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know. Sometimes. What’s the big deal, Sharon?” “Okay, I just decided I don’t want pizza and a movie,” Sharon said. “I want McDonald’s and then we’ll go to the billiard place and play Eight Ball.” “All right.”

Sharon stopped and faced her girlfriend. “No, I just changed my mind again. That’s not what I want to do. What I really want to do this Thursday is kill someone.” Laurie just stared at her. There was no expression on her face.

Tuesday 6:51 P.M.

MOM AND I had salads for dinner. Dad was out of town on business. We were used to eating without him, but tonight, because of what had happened to Lucy, it felt lonely and isolated in our big house at the end of the point.

Mom probably felt the same way I did, but she could always be counted on for a brave smile. “God, I feel for the Cunninghams,” she said. “Paul and Dana are utterly beside themselves.” Through the kitchen window we watched a cloud of white terns wheel and dive over a school of splashing fish in the Sound. “It’s been three days. I think I’d go mad if I were them. What’s it like at school?”

“Weird,” I said. “Everyone’s tronning.”

“Sorry?”

“Pretending things are normal, even though we know they’re not. Ms. Skelling really dumped on me today for leaving Lucy before she went into the house.”

Mom’s forehead wrinkled. “That’s not right.”

I pushed at a slice of cucumber with my fork, feeling a wretched mixture of guilt and regret and fright. “No, she was right. I either should have gotten her to go inside or waited.”

“You said Lucy didn’t want to go in,” Mom said. “Were you supposed to sit there and wait all night until she did?”

I shrugged and felt my eyes become watery. The emotions I’d held down all day had finally begun to overflow. I always tried to do the right thing. My mother was my model. She was always involved in one cause or another. After one career on the school board, and another as the Mayor of Soundview, she now ran the Archer Foundation, the charitable part of my dad’s company that gave money, usually anonymously, to good causes. As a result, she, too, had to travel, but not as often. She also worked with local civic organizations, like the PTO and the library. I’d been brought up with the understanding that I’d do the same sort of things. In the summer I gave time to Habitat for Humanity, and in the winter I probably would have done Safe Rides even if I hadn’t been required to.

The tears spilled out and ran down my cheeks. Mom slid her chair close to mine and hugged me. “It’s not your fault, hon. There’s no way you could have known. You wouldn’t have even been there if you hadn’t been trying to help.”