Authors: Jessie Rosen
Charlie followed him out of the room, silently.
If only
this guy knew how much worse my real life is
, Charlie thought as he walked
down the hall and out of the police station for what he feared would not be the
last time.
Sasha
Halloween was a particularly
treat-filled holiday for Sasha this year. The first sweet little discovery came
in the form of a new audio file that appeared by surprise on her computer some
time around one o’clock that afternoon. It was the latest downloaded recording
of a conversation caught by the tap still attached to Kit’s basement window.
Charlie and the crew decided to have yet another critical conversation in that
space.
Within the first five minutes of their little chat, Sasha
learned something that made her realize the foursome was not as tightly knit a
group as she originally thought. Amanda, Kit, and Sean had no idea about what
really went on between Charlie and “Chelsea.” They knew that Sarah had tricked
Charlie as a girl named Chelsea, but they had no idea that Charlie went along
with the entire thing for months and months before he knew the truth. They did
not know that Charlie was in love with “Chelsea.” That meant that whatever the
group did to Sarah, they did for Charlie, but with only half of the story as
their motivation.
Sasha wondered how they would feel about whatever happened
if they knew the whole truth, and, more importantly, if they might be willing
to turn on Charlie as a result? The fact that the police were talking to
Charlie meant they would eventually question the rest of the group. It was too known
among the whole Englewood community that they were a set.
That information alone would have given Sasha plenty to work
on for the next few days, but something popped up on the master tracking feed
that sent her off in yet another direction, and from a very fascinating source.
Sasha had been tracking the computers inside the Englewood
school newspaper office since the beginning of her search. It was a choice she
made early on in her hacking plan, figuring that places like the newspaper
might be as fruitful as the school yearbook. They were spaces where students
spent a lot of time and might unknowingly drop clues. Once again, Sasha’s
instincts were right. Around four o’clock on Halloween day—one hour after
the rest of the school went home—someone made a move that was very
helpful to Sasha’s cause.
At first Sasha wasn’t sure who was using the device, but
they started by opening and closing a series of folders containing photos—all
candid shots from the yearbook committee that the newspaper computer had access
to. That didn’t last long before the person switched tasks to painstakingly
searching the “downloads” folder, opening and closing dozens of images that had
been newly added to the hard drive. Again, they were images of random Englewood
students, probably taken for various
Chronicle
articles. Sasha couldn’t
make sense of it at first, but then the searching mysteriously stopped, halfway
through the folder. The person was only interested in photos downloaded the
week before October 24. That’s when it finally clicked in Sasha’s mind: they
were looking for the image of Charlie and Sarah that she had slipped into the homecoming
slideshow. At that realization Sasha crossed all her fingers and toes hoping
that the person would do something more specific to reveal him or herself. It
could have been anyone who had a legitimate reason to be inside that room…or
anyone who found their way in for the purpose of searching this computer.
Obviously Sasha suspected Charlie or one of his friends, but, from their
conversation in Kit’s basement, she knew that they were supposed to be getting
ready for Halloween so they could all meet at the diner around five o’clock.
Sasha quickly opened a new window to do a search on the
location of Charlie and his friends based on their cellphones’ GPS tracking.
Charlie was home. Amanda was at Kit’s house, and Sean appeared to be at some
strip mall on Route 9. They all had an alibi. Then Sasha went the opposite
route. She reverse-searched the location of Englewood High against all the cellphones
she was tracking. About a hundred pings came back, but only one made sense in
relation to the bigger picture: a cellphone belonging to Laura Rivers.
It was the first time since the beginning of the school year
that Laura had done anything worthy of Sasha’s attention. She emailed back and
forth with Charlie a ton, but it was always goofy love notes or random lines from
movies. Her lack of online social activity had always struck Sasha as slightly odd,
but she chalked it up to the fact that people said Laura was a hippie from
California. With that in mind, it made sense that Laura might not be attached
to her devices 24/7.
Apparently now she had something worth digging for, and the
fact that it was happening at four o’clock inside what was probably an empty
office felt telling. Of course nothing came up on the computer in reference to
the photo, so Laura moved on to her final search, the one that gave Sasha a
pretty clear picture of what was going on. She double-clicked on the folder
marked “Becca Private” and started guessing at passwords that might make it
open.
It was still technically a guess, but Sasha was pretty sure
it was a smart one: Laura Rivers thought that Becca Adams knew something about Charlie’s
relationship with Sarah. That made sense. Laura was dating Charlie from all the
information Sasha had gathered, so she wanted to know more about all the
mystery surrounding him. Sasha seriously considered sending Laura a personal
note telling her to steer clear of this guy, but then again, curious Laura was
already proving helpful.
Sasha stared at Becca’s name, thinking. It wasn’t a name she’d
necessarily expected to see in this search process and it made her incredibly
worried. What did Becca know? Sasha realized that she had found one more person
to help with her cause. It was time to become more closely acquainted with
Laura Rivers.
Laura
It took a lot of confidence for
Laura to walk into a diner full of her classmates wearing skin-tight, latex
pants and an itty-bitty crop top with a pair of her mom’s old, red pumps, but
she did it in the name of Halloween. A year or so ago she would have copped out
and gone as “Sweet Sandy,” but now it was “Sexy Sandy” all the way. She’d even
found a box of those vintage candy cigarettes that actually smoked. She and
Charlie were going to look incredibly hot together, and she was hoping that
would all lead to some equally hot alone time at her house later that night.
But the first thing Laura noticed when she approached the
table where Amanda, Kit, and Miller were sitting was—no Charlie. It took
her another second to see that something else was missing: their costumes.
“Please don’t tell me this is some really cruel prank,”
Laura said as she slinked into the booth. Charlie was still her buffer when it
came to spending time with the group, and Laura was nervous about how they
would treat her without him present.
“No,” Amanda said. “Sorry. Charlie should have texted you.
He’s probably not going to make it for dinner, but he’ll be at Jeff’s party
later.”
“Yeah,” Laura said, swallowing. “He should have texted me.
Where is he?”
Amanda didn’t skip a beat, making it hard to tell if she was
lying. “He’s with his mom. She spiked a fever so he stayed to make sure the
medicine he gave her helps it go down before he leaves.”
“Okay,” Laura said. It didn’t seem worth getting into an
argument with any of them about Charlie’s whereabouts. They would obviously
take his side. “But why aren’t you guys in costumes?”
“Didn’t feel like it,” Miller said.
“I have cat ears in my car,” Amanda said.
Kit stayed completely silent. Laura wondered why the three
of them were even at the diner together if they were just sitting there,
looking like they all just lost their puppy.
Of course
, she thought.
They
did
all just
lose their puppy. Something’s wrong with Charlie. That’s why they’re all
together here, without him
.
Laura didn’t know what to do in that moment. If she left,
she’d have nowhere to go but home. Jeff’s party didn’t start for another hour.
Plus, Charlie was part of her life, too. She obviously wasn’t going to get more
info on his real whereabouts, but she decided she might as well sit with the
group and think about him. After all, that’s all she would have done if she
decided to go home.
But when Charlie didn’t show up at Jeff’s by 10:30 p.m., and
then 11:00 p.m., and then 11:30 p.m., Laura decided that enough was enough. She
drove straight to his apartment building and yelled his name until the front
door buzzed, letting her into the complex. It was a crazy girlfriend move, but
Laura didn’t care. She was frustrated and concerned.
Laura found the front door open. “I’m in here,” Charlie
yelled from his bedroom. She walked in to find him lying on his back in the
dark, still wearing his Danny Zucco costume. He didn’t even flinch when she
walked in. It was like he was expecting her to show up. Something was obviously
wrong.
“Charlie…what’s going on?” Laura asked. She sat down on the
edge of his desk, keeping her distance from him at first, in case another, more
vicious panic attack would happen if she pushed him too far.
“Hey,” he said, “I’m just really not feeling well.”
“Oh,” Laura said. “Maybe you have what your mom has?”
Charlie gave her a confused look, but then he just nodded.
“I guess. You should go.”
“But I’m worried about you,” Laura said. “And if you’re
sick, then let me help you.”
“You can’t help me,” Charlie said, closing his eyes.
“You’re right. I can’t do anything for you if you won’t let
me. And I won’t do anything for you if you keep
lying
to me.” That got
his attention. He looked up from his slumped-over position and directly into
Laura’s eyes. “Listen, Charlie. You can lie to your teammates and friends and
the whole freaking school if you want, but you cannot lie to me. That’s our
deal. We were supposed to be our real selves with each other all the time, and you’re
breaking that promise. I’ve been there for you and worried about you and I’m
even trying to help you figure out who is doing these awful things to you, and
this is a crappy way to repay me. So until you’re ready to be honest, I’ve got
to go.”
Charlie had a strange, almost appreciative look on his face,
like he was glad she just called him out on everything. Then he took a deep
breath and said the last thing Laura expected to hear: “The police questioned
me about Sarah Castro-Tanner this afternoon.”
“Oh,” Laura said. “What was that like?”
“Weird,” Charlie said. “I didn’t tell you this, but Sarah
and I had these email exchanges before she died that were really scary. She…pretended
to be this other girl. It was really messed up. But after she died I didn’t
turn those over to the police, and I absolutely should have.” Charlie finally
sat up from his bed and put his head in his hands.
“Okay,” Laura said. She had a thousand questions, but she
was trying to be respectful of Charlie’s emotional state. “So how did the cops
get the emails?”
“I turned them in. Since the cops reopened the case I
thought the emails would shed light on what Sarah was really like: sick.”
“Wow,” Laura said. “So what did the cops ask you?”
“That’s the weird part,” Charlie said. “They only had one
question, and it was a simple one: why did I send the emails in now?”
“One question?” Laura asked. Even Charlie had to admit that
seemed unbelievable.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “I told them it was to help the case,
now that it was open again, and they let me leave. Totally simple. But now I’m
just thinking about everything Sarah did to me and having a hard time, like,
processing it all.”
“Right,” Laura said.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Laura hadn’t meant for there to be a tone in her response,
but she apparently couldn’t hold back. She didn’t believe a word Charlie was
saying.
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” she said after thinking for a few
seconds. “I want to help you, and I want to believe you, but I don’t.”
“What?! Why would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t wait around to find out. Good
luck. I’m here when you’re ready to really talk.”
Laura didn’t look back to see how her words hit Charlie; she
just walked out the front door and directly toward her car. But as she did,
something across the street caught her eye. It was the reflective stickers on a
bike across the street from Charlie’s house. Laura was curious enough to start
walking more slowly around to her own driver’s-side door to see if she could
tell who was sitting on the bike, but the second she saw the outline of the
person’s face, Laura quickened her pace and hopped in. It was Becca.
November
9
Charlie
On the day after Halloween, Laura
texted Charlie that she was going to California for a family wedding, starting
Monday. Apparently she hadn’t been planning to go because she didn’t want to
leave him, but her parents insisted when they learned how upset she was about
everything going on with Charlie. Charlie couldn’t blame her, but he suffered
through a miserable week without her at school.
On Monday he tried to sit down at the lunch table, but the
look on Amanda’s face made him turn immediately in the other direction. Later
she texted that she thought they should all keep their distance in case
undercover cops were lingering in the halls. Charlie spent the next three days
eating with Coach Stanley as they watched tapes featuring their opponents for
the week.
This was the week that soccer scholarship letters were supposed
to start coming in from colleges, but so far Stanley had nothing to report and
Charlie was too afraid to ask. They both knew that he’d been playing
inconsistently for the past month. Twice, Coach pulled him for errors on the
field, and his goal average for the season was lower than it had been sophomore
and junior year. Local recruits from UVA, Georgetown, and Harvard—a dream
Charlie couldn’t even imagine coming true—were hidden among the bleachers
at those games, but even that motivation could not pull Charlie out of his own
head and onto the field. After the most recent game, Coach asked him to stay
after for a talk.
“I need you to focus, Sanders, or I’m going to have to pull
you off the field,” he said. It was the first warning like that Charlie had
received in his entire soccer career.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t worth getting into
with Coach. He didn’t tolerate personal issues as it was, plus Charlie’s future
was still in his hands.
“If there’s a problem, get help—fast.”
“I’ll be fine,” Charlie said, but he could tell from the
look on Coach’s face that they both knew that wasn’t true.
Charlie’s life had become a series of solo walks to boring
classes where he could barely focus, and hours of soccer practice where he
tried unsuccessfully to force the stress away by pushing his body to the
limits. If someone from outside Englewood came and watched him for a day,
they’d think he was a friendless loser. His only hope was that Laura would take
him back so he’d have one person by his side.
Charlie had hoped that her time away would give her space and
help her forgive him, but on the Sunday she got back, he received a text
suggesting the exact opposite:
Charlie hurled his cellphone across the room, then ran out
to the garage to work out his frustrations.
He didn’t respond to Laura’s text that night and gave
her nothing more than a “hey” in English class on Monday. If she wanted space,
he was going to comply. On Wednesday of that week, she finally broke the ice,
though it wasn’t at all what Charlie was expecting to hear.
“I might have something to talk to you about later this
week,” Laura said at the end of English.
“What about?” he asked.
“About the messages you were getting,” she said, “have there
been any more?” Charlie perked up immediately. His first thought was relief
that Laura still cared about him enough to think about the pranks. His second
was that now he had to be honest about the fact that they had not stopped.
“Yes,” Charlie whispered. “I got one while you were gone.”
“What of?” Laura asked.
“It was a picture taken from inside my car…of my car stereo
playing a song. This time it came via text. I deleted every single app on my
phone, but whoever it is still found me.”
“God, that’s creepy,” she said. “I’m sorry.” The caring tone
was back in her voice. “What was the song?”
“That Miley Cyrus one, ‘Can’t Stop’ or something?”
Laura’s face turned from worried to confused.
“Weird,” she said. “That song hasn’t been on the radio in
forever.” She quickly pulled out her phone and searched something. “Yeah. It
came out in the summer, almost two years ago.”
Charlie didn’t need to say what he was thinking; they both
knew. That was the summer before Sarah died.
“Maybe someone didn’t
just
get in your car…” Laura
said. “Maybe they’ve had that picture for a really long time.”
Charlie felt his chest tighten again. It had become a common
feeling at this point. He knew how to will it away by taking a quick breath and
pushing the fear or stress back down into his stomach. He wondered if Laura
could see him doing that right now.
She was right, of course. Someone probably had taken that
shot from inside his car just like they’d done with the other recordings. But
for the first time since he started to receive the cryptic messages, a new possibility
struck him:
Sarah could have taken the videos and picture.
All three of the
creepy messages could make sense from that lens.
Miller yelled at Charlie before they left to meet Sarah that
night, but maybe she knew they were doing that and was somehow recording?
Charlie’s toast would have been easy for her to capture by just hiding her
phone under the table. Maybe she’d even taped it on purpose with them watching
as some sort of memory? Charlie couldn’t remember. And now the song from inside
the car. It must have been playing as they drove out to the bridge.
What if Sarah Castro-Tanner was the original source of every
single piece of content, and then she texted them to someone she knew
throughout the night to eventually frame him or something? Charlie wanted to
dismiss the idea instantly. She didn’t know what was coming that night, why
would she have taken videos and photos? Then another realization hit him: maybe
it was because she was bragging about the night she was going to spend with
Charlie and his crew. And now whoever had the shots was using them against him
because they thought he had something to do with her death. It all made sense,
but it didn’t get Charlie any closer to figuring out the source, and he
definitely couldn’t share all that information with Laura.
“I found out something interesting about my editor, Becca, but
I want to check out more before I tell you what I know,” Laura said.
That certainly didn’t connect. Charlie didn’t even know
Becca’s last name. Besides, she was younger.
“Can you tell me what you do know now?” Charlie asked
anxiously.
“No, I’m sorry. I have to be honest with you, Charlie. I’m
not sure I trust you. And if I’m wrong about Becca, it’s not fair to start
rumors. She’s my friend.”
I’m not sure I trust you.
Those words hit Charlie
hard because he knew they were fair. He
still
wasn’t telling Laura
everything he knew about that night. She didn’t know that Sarah had been with
him and his friends before she died, and she didn’t know why. Now Laura was out
trying to help solve the identity of the mystery person, and he wasn’t even
giving her all the information she might need.
Charlie was silent, but he promised himself that when the
time was right, he would come clean to Laura. She was trying to help him; he
could trust her. And more importantly, if he didn’t tell someone everything
flying around in his mind, he was going to explode.
“Let me have a conversation with Becca,” Laura said, “then
we can talk.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said sincerely. “You’re the only person
helping me.”
Laura reached down and wrapped her hand around his. “I know
there are still things you’re not telling me, Charlie, but I really, truly
believe it’s because you’re afraid of getting blamed for something that you
didn’t do.”
Charlie couldn’t believe how clear and correct Laura was
about the whole thing. He had been right about her all along—she really
did see the truth in him, even if he was keeping some of the details from her.
He knew they were supposed to be on a break, but in that
moment he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and giving Laura a kiss, and
he was thrilled when she didn’t pull away.
* * *
Later that day, Charlie sat alone in
the library looking up a romantic spot in one of the surrounding towns where he
could take Laura to talk. After everything she was doing for him, it was time
to tell her more of the truth. He wasn’t exactly sure how much he would say,
but he wanted to find a nice, quiet place where they could bring takeout from
the Italian restaurant that she loved, one they’d gone to on an early date.
There hadn’t been any more contact from the police since
that interview over a week ago, and even though the mystery person had still taunted
him, that was not the same as more threats to the police. It was already past
the time when whoever was behind all the messages claimed they would release
everything they knew to the authorities, and that hadn’t happened. Maybe this
was all a giant bluff intended to make him confess? That was the only silver
lining Charlie could think of as he tried to focus on the computer screen—that
and the idea of having Laura fully in his life again.
After a few minutes, Charlie looked up to see Principal
Hayden standing next to one of the two old librarians. Hayden asked the
shorter, older one a question. She looked around the room and pointed straight
in his direction. Charlie’s stomach jumped into his chest. Typically he
wouldn’t be worried about Hayden or any other administrator coming to find him—between
student council and soccer he was a regular in the main office—but based
on everything going on, Charlie was nervous, and the look on Hayden’s face did
not help.
Those butterflies were nothing compared to the panic that
set in when Charlie stepped into Principal Hayden’s office and saw Detective
Pierson leaning up against the wall.
“Hey, Charlie,” he said. “I had a feeling we’d bump into
each other again.” Charlie felt his chest tighten and his body turned from cold
to burning hot. The friendly tone in the detective’s voice was gone.
“Charlie, why don’t you take a seat?” Principal Hayden
said. “We have some things to show you that are very concerning to us both.”
They have the rest of the emails
, Charlie thought. He
couldn’t figure out how, but nothing made sense anymore. Whoever was out to get
him had some serious spy skills. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had a personal
investigator following him around 24/7 at this point.
Charlie’s mind raced trying to come up with a plan about how
to respond. He could say the emails had been deleted as far as he knew so he
couldn’t submit the full set the first time. He could tell the truth and say he
didn’t give the cops everything because he was too ashamed. But neither answer
would stop them from asking the next logical question:
what did you do to
Sarah after these emails, and why does someone think the police should know
?
“Why don’t you take a look at these,” Hayden said as he slid
a folder toward Charlie.
Charlie tried not to visibly wince as he opened it and
picked up one of the many pieces of paper.
This time Charlie couldn’t stop his body from reacting. He
tried to take a breath, but his chest was too tight. A noise came from the back
of his throat that must have sounded like he was about to throw up.
“Charlie?” Principal Hayden said. “Are you okay?”
All Charlie could do was nod. He didn’t think it could get
worse than the cops finding all his email exchanges with Sarah and “Chelsea,”
but he was wrong. This note gave them everything they needed to prove that he
drove Sarah to kill herself, and he had no way to prove that it was a fake.
They didn’t harass her—they did the exact opposite. But the only way to
prove that was to confess how Sarah
really
died.
“Anything you want to share with us?” Detective Pierson
said.
“Am I allowed to ask a question?” Charlie asked.
Hayden looked to the detective who nodded. “Go ahead,” he
said.
“How did you get this?”
“We’re not at liberty to share that, Charlie,” the detective
said. “Unless you’re asking because you have an answer to your own question?”
“I don’t, but it’s important,” Charlie said.
“Why’s that?” Hayden asked.
“Because it’s not true, and if you got it now then it might
be from the same person who tipped the police off in the first place.”
The two men shared another glance. This time Hayden let the
detective take the lead.
“We didn’t get it now, Charlie,” he said. “We found it
mislabeled in an old set of files belonging to Sarah’s guidance counselor at
the time. It never got passed through the proper channels.”
“And believe me, son, I am devastated about that fact,”
Hayden added, his voice rising. “This school is now under investigation for
student negligence, which could cost me and a number of other teachers here our
jobs. This is serious!”
“I know!” Charlie yelled back. “And I’m trying to tell you
that someone is doing this
to
us! My friends and I did not harass Sarah
for a single day. Not once. No notes, no threats,
nothing
.”
“Then why would she write this letter?” the detective asked.
Charlie had been afraid of that question because he did not have an answer.