New Olympus Trilogy: Teenage Goddess Teenage Star Hell on Earth (10 page)

1

I woke in the dark, in my room in the Rockview Academy, my heart beating fast and my thoughts churning.

Was I losing my mind? Did the sudden loss of my girlfriend cause me to hallucinate? I’d had an incredibly vivid dream. Myra, more beautiful than ever, had reassured me that she was alive. She even promised that we might meet again in the future, if I still loved her.

Unfortunately everything in real life pointed to a far more depressing conclusion, including my own memory. Less than two days ago I had pulled Myra’s broken, bloody body from the icy waters of a mountain pool. After placing her on dry ground, I’d had to take one of the most difficult decisions of my life – stay with her to the end, which seemed only a question of minutes, or go for help. I’d run for help. I’d never seen her again.

Well, except in this dream. Did that count?

And how could a mere dream make me feel so much lighter, more hopeful? It didn’t make any sense, but after the unrelenting misery of the day before – the school actually installed a camera in my room and watched it around the clock “just in case” – well, I’d take any improvement I could get.

Myra. Why did she come into my life, like a blazing meteor, only to leave it so suddenly just weeks afterwards? Would it have been better never to meet her at all? No. Whatever the cost, I was glad we’d been together even for the short while we’d had. Loving her had been like stepping from an old black and white movie into a modern, colourful one. Or like extending my vision with a tenfold zoom, so that I now saw a bigger picture, much more clearly. The effect was still there, even with Myra gone. I was not ready to return to my small cramped world of before, if it had even been possible.  

My eye fell on the blank notebook the new therapist had handed me on our first session the previous day. “After a trauma,” he’d told me, “it can help to write down your feelings.” He probably wanted me to discuss my scribbling with him later on. I wouldn’t. I’d write down my dream so I’d never forget a single detail, but it was private; my own secret source of hope, however irrational.

Strangely, since last night I’d felt more lucid than I had for several weeks. Even my love for Myra, which had engulfed me like a tsunami, was more under control. Now it felt like a wave I could choose to ride or sit out. I’d ride it, even now that she was gone and likely dead.

After writing down every detail of my dream, I stared at the remaining blank space of the notebook. Maybe I could figure out a solution to her disappearance, though the local Sherriff’s office was stumped. Surely they had better resources, but then they didn’t know Myra, as I had. As her boyfriend, my motivation to find her was a lot greater. 

What had happened in those few minutes? No girl, no body, nothing to explain the mystery. The police arrived within thirty minutes, a record given our remote location in the Rocky Mountains. They conducted a widespread search with several helicopters and dozens of men on the ground, starting within two hours of the emergency call. Yet no trace of Myra was found.

I refused to believe the “Grizzly” and “Puma” theories propounded by the avid TV newscasters, but had no better explanation. The fact that the mystery involved me – already so much in the media through my singing and acting – had guaranteed a veritable frenzy of speculation and round-the-clock coverage of the search, which would resume as soon as the night ended. 

By the time it got light outside, and time to leave the sanctuary of my room, I still was no closer to a solution.

The in-school telephone interrupted my brooding. “The headmaster wants a quick word at 7.30 a.m.,” Mrs.
Balz, the school secretary, told me. “Then the FBI will interview you again at eight. We’ve set aside the small room off the recreation hall.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.” I was glad that she wasn’t asking about my feelings, as everyone else had since the day before. Since the accident. It wasn’t really an accident, but my mind shied away from what had happened just before Myra’s fall.

“You probably don’t feel like eating, but if you’re up, there’s just time if you hurry.”

“Yes, okay. Thanks.” I put the receiver down and left for the school cafeteria. Since the dream my appetite had returned, and I figured I’d better grab a sandwich or some fruit before a gruelling day of more police interviews and therapy.

There were only a few students up yet. They greeted me with surprise, as though eating breakfast was somehow wrong after losing your girlfriend in the mountains.

Defiantly, I poured myself some hot chocolate, and assembled a helping of scrambled eggs, vegetables, and toast.

Paul, one of my classmates, came to sit beside me. “Man, that really sucks, what happened. I never much cared for Myra or that brother of hers, but still, I’d never have expected Christabel to become homicidal over you. It’s flattering in a way.”

I turned my coldest expression on him –“freezing like the Arctic” according to my major fan site. “If you never cared for Myra, I’d prefer that you take your comments elsewhere. Scram.”

Paul was bigger and taller than I, but temporarily incapacitated by a broken wrist. Just as well: an ugly expression crossed his handsome face. He wasn’t above hitting others on occasion, thought he’d never tried it with me.

Now he shrugged with exaggerated carelessness. “Have it your way. Nobody but you liked the stuck-up cow. See you around.”

After Paul had left for another table I quickly ate some more, just for fuel, as my appetite was flagging again. The food in our school was never its greatest selling point. Myra used to complain about its blandness.

The headmaster’s office was not far. Dr Hollingsworth briefly expressed his condolences. It was plain he considered Myra dead.

“What you told the police yesterday,” he added, “is likely to ruin poor Christabel’s life. Have you considered that the truth won’t bring Myra back, but can cause terrible harm to a girl – er – whose unrequited love for you caused her to panic?”

I didn’t buy his concern for a minute. No doubt Christabel’s powerful relatives had been putting pressure on the school. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Serves her right.” I looked at the headmaster challengingly, an expression I’d used in a couple of scenes of the forthcoming action movie
Hurricane Riders
. “Would you really advise me to depart from the truth, Sir?”

“Oh… of course not, but there’s always some shades of grey in any situation ...” He was in a tight spot, as I was the most famous student of his school, yet Christabel’s family had important political connections and lots of clout. She’d abused this fact one time too many, as far as I was concerned.

“I doubt Christabel will suffer too much,” I said. “I only care for Myra, and want her found. She is also a student here – don’t you care that she got hurt and lost?”

“
Er- of course, that goes without saying. A most unfortunate occurrence.” He sounded genuinely sorry, but I’d bet it was the damage to the school rather than to Myra he most cared about. 

“If that’s all, I’ll go to see the FBI now,” I said, a bit more shortly than I usually spoke to authority figures. His blatant hypocrisy disgusted me.

2

Outside the headmaster’s office, a tall young man in a grey suit stood waiting. I was about to storm by, but he stopped me by grabbing at my arm. My angry look did not faze him at all.

“Mr. Mackenzie, I’m Joe Zackary, your lawyer. Your parents retained me. I’ve been travelling all night. Is it true you’re going to have an interview with the FBI in a few minutes?”

Seeing that I was listening, he removed his hand from my arm, and thrust a business card out at me. It looked legitimate. 

“I’m supposed to see them in a few minutes, at eight. Do I really need a lawyer of my own?”

“That question alone proves that you do. Where can we talk?”

I led the lawyer to one of the sofas of the empty recreation lounge, under a huge screen, silent now. I’d watched a couple of movies here with Myra – no time to think about that.

Zackary lost no time in getting to the point. “Your situation is dangerous. A girl from a rich foreign family has inexplicably vanished on a school hike. Only her boyfriend – you – and another student who apparently hated her guts are witnesses. Correct so far?”

“So far.” For someone who’d been travelling all night, he seemed pretty alert.

“You told the police that the other girl – Christabel Lennox – was jealous over you, and pushed your girlfriend into a rock-filled pool, where she was badly and probably fatally hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“The strange thing is that this other girl supported your story, and admitted what she did, and why. Is she an idiot? The obvious thing would have been to put the blame on you, or say it was an accident.”

Now that he pointed that out, I was forced to agree. “It
is
strange, and I’ve no idea why Christabel told the truth. It’s very unlike her, actually. I’ve known her for several years. She’s very far from an idiot and always looking out for her own interests.”

“Well, if she recants her confession, then you yourself might fall under suspicion. As the boyfriend, you are the most logical suspect in the first place.” Zackary was watching me closely.

“What!”

“And let’s not forget that you’re an experienced actor, who can presumably simulate grief quite convincingly.”

I thought of decking him, breathed out slowly, tried to relax. “I could, but there was no need.”

“Still, it looks like you’re over the worst of it now? You’re far more composed than I expected, from the reports I got yesterday.”

“I have my wits about me, if that’s what you mean
.” I will not let the guy get to me. Keep cool.

“I’m glad to hear it. The police are going to come at you with far worse. You have to keep it together, and remain consistent. I’ll be there to help. When I tell you to shut up, do so. There will be good reasons for it. All right?”

“Okay.” If my parents picked him, this lawyer probably knew his business. They only hired the best.

“What do you really think happened to the girl?” Zackary looked at me penetratingly. I met his gaze without flinching.

“Her name is Myra, not “the girl”. I have no explanation.”

We were about to move towards the improvised interview room when my cell phone rang. It was Jerry, my agent.

“Jason, are you all right? You didn’t answer the phone yesterday. Alice and I have been frantic. We need to co-ordinate the public relations side of this disaster right away.”

“Not now, I’m about to see the FBI. I’ll call you back.” I switched the phone off.

No less than four FBI agents were expecting me, three men and a woman. They all wore similar dark suits. Old-fashioned recording equipment was set up on the table.

Zackary introduced himself as the lawyer sent by my parents. The agents did not seem to mind his presence.

I told, once again, the story of the tragedy: I’d showed the waterfall to Myra, we’d talked – I omitted the earth-shattering kiss we’d shared. Christabel came up later, made a scene and pushed Myra into the pool. Every horrible detail was burned into my brain.

“We’ve seen footage of a press conference you gave in Atlanta last week,” the female agent said. “Your feelings for this girl seemed very intense, almost over the top. Such strong feelings at your age – between sixteen and seventeen – can easily turn into their opposite.”

“You have no evidence that they did,” Zackary put in. “Jason is a very stable and normal teenager.”

“This is not about my feelings,” I said. “Why don’t you find Myra first, and then we discuss my feelings?”

She made a note on a pad, while Zackary cast me an admonishing look.

“Did you know you’d be passing close by that waterfall? How did you know it was there?”

“We did this same hike three years ago, and that time our guide showed the waterfall to a group of us. Christabel was also there. Until we started out, I had no idea we’d repeat that other hike.”

She made another note.

“You claim you pulled the victim out of the pool, hurt and bleeding. From the pictures of the place, that looks pretty dangerous. You had to jump at least eight feet from the bottom of the ledge.”

“It was scary, but I was only thinking of saving her. At least I could see where the rocks were, while Myra went in backwards. ”

“Your clothes were soaked in water, and had bloodstains.” They’d taken them away yesterday, given me something dry in exchange. I nodded. 

“Where did you put Myra after you grabbed hold of her in the water?”

“There wasn’t a lot of choice. At one side of the pool there was a flat bit of sand between the rocks, just large enough. The side where she fell in was too steep.”

“And then?”

“I crossed the pool again, and scrabbled up the rock face towards the grass slope, where Christabel was standing and gloating. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards the path.”

“You’d have been faster by yourself.”

“I couldn’t leave Christabel behind. She might have decided to finish Myra off.”

There was a minute of silence while everyone contemplated this.

“Where was Myra’s brother Hellmuth when you came back to the campsite?”

“He was there among the other students. I distinctly remember that he looked shocked when he heard my call for help. I don’t remember where he was later on.”

The questions went on and on. They were sniffing around, looking for the slightest inconsistency, or any clue to the mystery of Myra’s disappearance. Despite their persistence, which tired me out, they did not find anything. At about half-past ten they gave up – for now.

Before he left, Zackary made me switch on the cell phone again and personally entered his telephone number so I’d be able to call on him day or night. “I’ll be staying at the guesthouse in
Westhaven, only twenty minutes away, until this blows over,” he told me. “Don’t talk to any police or agents without me present. This is very important.”

I promised I’d call him when he was needed, and wondered if I should join my classmates for the Math lesson about to start. No, I’d never be able to concentrate, and anyway first I had to call my agent and publicist. Since Jerry would be furious by now, I started with Alice.

“Jason, thank God! The media are going crazy. We’ve got headlines as far away as Iceland, Turkey and Hong Kong.” I’d rarely heard her sound so perky. “You’ve got to put out a statement immediately. I’ve sent you the draft, look it over and I’ll send it out within the hour unless I hear back from you with any changes. Please do it right away, this is a chance we mustn’t miss.”

“What do you mean:
a chance
?”

“Oh, sorry, I don’t want to belittle your grief, but your profile is going stratospheric if we play this right. A mystery, a tragedy – it needs a delicate touch but this will add millions to your next movie contract.”

I was speechless for a moment. “I didn’t realise you’re such an insensitive bitch, Alice. Is money all that matters to you?”

“What else is there? Sensitive people shouldn’t become publicists. You’ll thank me later.” Her cheerfulness was undiminished as she rang off.

Well, that had gone well. The call to my agent was hardly better. I had to face the fact that they did not care a whit about Myra’s fate, only about my image and income – I was their meal ticket.

At least my parents had sent a couple of SMS expressing sympathy, as well as a therapist and the lawyer. Their solution to any problem was to hire the best available specialists and let them get on with the job. That’s how they had approached my education, too. It worked most of the time.

I kicked at the door of my room when I go there. Without Myra, I was surrounded only by opportunists. It hadn’t bothered me in the past. I had expected it, acted like it myself, often enough.

What had changed?