We Know It Was You (22 page)

Winn looked over his shoulder to make sure the garage was still empty. Then he moved around Trevor's ugly Hummer and stabbed Bory's faithful bayonet through the back tires. With each stab, he imagined stabbing the life out of Trevor's swinging, puffed testicles. No guy's balls but his own should ever have come that close to Corny's innocent pink lips. And the way Corny had just laughed, tolerating it, even seeming to enjoy it! And there'd been nothing Winn could do but sit there and watch while they made a fool of him, knowing he'd
be an even bigger fool if he walked out or tried to stop it.

Now, as he stabbed and stabbed, Winn felt a tension growing in his crotch. For some reason, whenever Winn got really angry, he also got kind of horny. It was weird, but he tried not to think about it in a deep way. He just climbed into the driver's seat of his own tasteful blue BMW, unzipped his pants, and fished out his penis. Then he hurriedly jerked off, his dick in one hand and his gun in the other.

Fuck you, Trevor.

Fuck you, Trevor.

FUCK YOU, TREVOR!

In about five seconds he was shooting off all over himself. All his angry, righteous energy immediately went seeping out of him. He suddenly felt exhausted and as apathetic as a slug. He rested his head on the steering wheel. He waited for his breathing to get back to normal. Then he gave Bory a once-over to make sure he hadn't gotten any cum on the barrel.

Poor old Bory,
Winn thought. The indignities this gun had endured in his hands! This noble weapon that had once been used to defend the South and cut down Yankee aggressors, now reduced to slashing tires and witnessing masturbation. And yet, Bory never judged.

There was the sound of a car pulling into the garage.

Shit.
Winn quickly zipped up his pants and wiped his sticky hand on the seat. He slumped low to avoid being seen. He held his breath as the car drove slowly past,
looking for a spot. It was a junky Fiesta, not a car he recognized. Winn heard its engine cut off and decided to just stay low until whoever it was had left.

TAP TAP!

Winn was so startled he jumped in his seat. He turned and saw an Asian guy rapping on his window. The guy was no one Winn had ever seen before. He had long hair and was dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. Maybe thirty years old? It was hard to tell with Asian guys. Slightly panicked but trying to keep cool, Winn grabbed his letter jacket to cover the wet splotch on his pants. Then he rolled down the window.

“Yes?” he said, praying that this random guy hadn't seen him slashing Trevor's tires.

“Hey, man, you know where the Boarders is at?” the guy leaned down and said. “It's, like, a building?”

“Yeah, I know where it is . . . ,” Winn answered.

“Can you give me directions?”

Winn looked at him suspiciously. Strangers were pretty rare at Winship. The campus was cloistered, the student body intimately small, and the teachers and staff were trained to question anyone they didn't recognize. Sometimes alumni would show up and walk around nostalgically, but this guy didn't have that look. Besides, if he were an alum he would know where the Boarders was.

“My girlfriend goes here,” the guy said, sensing Winn's hesitation. “Virginia? Do you know her?”

“Yeah, I know her,” Winn said. Virginia Leeds had a
boyfriend? He was surprised he hadn't heard. Virginia was the type to shove it in everyone's faces whether they gave a damn or not. Winn found it annoying when girls dated outside of the school. It was demoralizing for the guys, and for school spirit in general.

“She told me to meet her there, but this school is a fuckin' labyrinth.”

Winn gave him a long look. “It's up the hill,” he said finally. “Sort of away from the other buildings. You go down a gravel road.”

“Oh, I saw that road!” the guy exclaimed. “I couldn't tell if it was part of the school or not.”

“Yep,” Winn said. Then, suddenly, he wished he hadn't said anything. Who was this random guy invading their school with his beat-up Ford and his long hair and his
jeans
? This always happened to Winn after he ejaculated—his senses became temporarily clouded, and he'd do something stupid, like telling Corny he'd go to her cousin's baby shower, or forgetting to close the porn tabs on his dad's laptop.

The guy was nodding gratefully, his long hair swishing like fringe. “Thanks, man. Hey, cool gun.”

Winn looked at the gun in his lap. He'd forgotten it was there. It made him feel even stupider about betraying the location of the Boarders so easily. He was
Winn Davis
! He had a
gun
! This was
his
school!

“Thanks,” Winn said dully. He didn't care anymore. Let Virginia Leeds have her creepy thirty-year-old boyfriend.
Let townie Asians flood the gates and take over the whole world for all he cared.

The stranger left, his footsteps creating an echo in the empty garage. Winn rolled up the window, closed his eyes, and arranged Bory in his arms. The rifle rested comfortably against his chest, and Winn's arms loosened and relaxed. Because when love is real, Winn understood but couldn't explain, you don't have to hold on so tight.

The nurse's office, 3:01 p.m.

“Drink up!” the nurse chirped, handing Benny a bottle of pink Gatorade.

“Don't drink it,” Virginia said. “I think they're trying to lobotomize us.” Virginia was always trying to use big words even when they didn't make sense. Benny wanted to roll his eyes, but his head hurt too much. He opened the Gatorade and downed half of it in a series of long gulps. Then he hopped off the cot.

“Now just a moment, you're not going anywhere,” the nurse said firmly.

“It's after three o'clock,” Benny said. “It's my right to leave school at this time.” He needed to get out of there. He needed to get to the Boarders and see the video of the bridge again. Now that he was certain the shadowy figure was Zaire, it changed everything.

He smoothed his pants and walked out the door. Virginia followed him, and the nurse followed her, protesting with
the exasperation of adults who assume, incorrectly, that being old somehow entitles them to respect. Eventually she gave up.

“I want to watch the video again,” Benny said. “Can we go to the Boarders?”

“Sure,” Virginia said. She knew better than to ask if he was okay. Benny hated being babied, and Virginia didn't believe in babying people anyway. If Benny was sick, he could deal with it himself. It's not like they were children. The thing Virginia really wanted to ask him was what he thought of Zaire. Had he noticed that she was totally flirting with him in the library? Did he like her? Old Virginia could have found out in a second, just by watching his reaction when she asked him. But New Virginia wasn't going to. Not just because it wasn't her style, but because . . . she didn't know. She just didn't want to do it. It was like, the new Virginia had self-respect, and only hung out with people who also had self-respect. She didn't want to watch Benny flounder and blush in front of her.

They turned down the road that led to the Boarders. They walked in silence, the only sound their feet crunching on the gravel. The air was muggy and a little too hot. It wasn't helping Benny's headache. He rubbed his temples, thinking. Then he finally said, “Zaire's not very good at this.”

“Good at what?” Virginia asked.

“Pulling this off,” he answered.

“Pulling what off? You never tell me anything.”

“Whatever it is she's doing.” Benny kicked a pinecone. “She's out to get the cheerleading squad or something. She tried to kill Brittany but ended up killing Choi.”

Virginia squinted at him. “Huh?”

“Her plan went awry, and now she's making it worse,” Benny went on. “She's a control freak. She thinks she's being some kind of puppet master, but really she's just screwing herself over. She was obviously threatened by the fact that I was reading that book. She should have just backed off and stayed cool. Instead she took the book away, and then tried to hypnotize me into not being interested anymore.”

“Wait, you're saying Zaire Bollo is a murderer? You're saying I live across the hall from a
murderer
?”

Benny couldn't tell if Virginia was scared or thrilled. “Yeah,” he said. “She tried to keep me off her track in the library. She started talking in this weird voice . . . I don't even remember completely. And she kept saying, ‘It's so boring. Don't waste your intellect on this stuff. It's so boring, Benny. Hypnosis is so boring. It's so boring. It's so boring. It's so boring.' And the word ‘boring' was actually, like,
boring
into my brain. . . . And then I felt like I was going to hurl.”

“Zaire is definitely a control freak,” Virginia said.
Not unlike you,
she added in her mind. “I remember when she was dating Gottfried, he'd be leaving with Corn Flakes or something, and she'd be like, ‘What time are you coming
back?' And he'd be like, ‘I dunno, five?' And she'd be like, ‘What time
exactly
?' ”

“The key to getting away with something isn't planning it perfectly,” Benny said. “It's
adapting
perfectly when the plan inevitably goes wrong. Control freaks can't adapt. They try to master their problems instead of adapting to them.”

“Okay, but hang on. Are you sure about this? Why would Zaire want to kill Britt—”

“Shhh!” He hushed her quickly. They were at the Boarders now, and he didn't want anyone to overhear them.

Virginia opened the front door, and Benny followed her inside. The air was stuffy and thick. The Boarders didn't have air-conditioning, so they just kept the windows open until the temperature dipped below eighty degrees, which wouldn't happen until Halloween if it was going to be another Indian summer. Benny followed Virginia into the empty common room, and Virginia flicked off the lights. She hoisted herself up onto the refrigerator and reached behind it. After a moment of digging around, and the sound of tape ripping, she hopped down and held out the grimy flash drive to Benny.

Just then a girl appeared in the doorway and the lights flicked on. They both froze, the flash drive between their hands.

“Virginia, will you get your crap out of the hall?” Chrissie White said, folding her arms.

“What crap?” Virginia asked.

Chrissie gestured impatiently toward the hall, then turned and left.

Their hands were still touching. Their eyes met for half a second, then they both quickly drew back. Benny noticed Virginia wiping her palm on her skirt and was embarrassed. Was his hand sweaty?

Virginia walked past him into the hall. “What the hell?” he heard her say. He followed her. The door to Virginia's room was wide open, and some clothes were spilling out into the hall. He came up behind her and peered into the room. Every drawer was flung open, every book strewn on the floor. The sheets had been ripped from the bed and sat in a messy pile.

“Give me your phone,” Virginia said.

Benny handed it to her, feeling the familiar reluctance. It's not that he had any secrets on there. It was mostly just apps for detective work (flashlight, encyclopedia, camera), and texts from Grandma, who didn't understand cell phones (
HELLO? HELLO?
). But it still felt weird and too personal as he handed it over.

Virginia had taken a business card out of her pocket and was dialing a number.

Benny stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Ring . . . ring . . .

“Hello? Detective Holling? This is Virginia Leeds from Winship. . . . Yeah, I just have a quick question. Are you going to trash my room every day until you find
what you want? Because if so, I won't bother cleaning up.”

She stopped talking and looked at the floor. Benny listened but couldn't hear what the other person was saying.

“My
room
,” Virginia spat into the phone. “My room is ransacked. Again. And I haven't even gotten my stuff back that you took yesterday. And don't think I didn't notice that you totally stole my perfume, which I'd
just
bought, FYI. I should sue you for harass—”

Virginia listened again. She'd started pacing back and forth, kicking a path through the sea of stuff on the floor. Then she scowled suddenly and threw the phone on the bare mattress. Benny looked at her, afraid she might throw something at him next if he said anything.

“She said they haven't been here since yesterday,” she told him. “She said it wasn't them.”

The hall, 3:30 p.m.

No one had seen anyone going in or out.

“I just walked in and it was like that,” said Chrissie White.

“And you came directly to the Boarders once classes let out,” Benny confirmed.

“Yeah. I'm always the first one back. Everyone else goes to sports.”

“Thank you,” he said to Chrissie.

“Is this for your club?” she asked. “Like a training exercise?”

Benny peered into Virginia's room. She was making the bed, yanking the sheets around irritably.

“Training is over,” he said.

Two minutes later he was in the common room with the door closed, waiting for the computer to buzz to life. He slumped in the chair and stared up at the ceiling, gently rubbing his temples.

Gottfried keeps cigarettes above the rafters.

Benny lowered his hands. Then he dragged the chair to the center of the room and stood on it. It wasn't high enough. He stepped onto the sofa and balanced on the back, careful not to tip it over. Now he could see just above the rafters, and he spotted a small dark lump. He grabbed it. It was a pack of Parliaments.

He jumped to the floor with a thump and pulled out his phone. He swiped through his photo gallery until he found the pictures he'd taken underneath the bleachers on Saturday. Dirty pieces of trash, a half-eaten hot dog . . . crumpled cigarette butts. Benny could just barely make out three dirty, blue letters:
ENT
. Parliam
ent
. So maybe Gottfried was at the football game after all, hiding under the bleachers. But what did that prove?