Very Bad Things (11 page)

Though she was breathing hard, she heard loud breaths that weren’t her own. She inhaled a smell that wasn’t musty tunnel. More like sweat and testosterone.

Katie
.

Oh, God, was it the voice from her dream? Maybe she was still asleep.
Please, please, let it be that. Let me still be in bed
.

Katie squished her eyes closed, murmuring, “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” over and over. Then she heard the soft crunch of approaching footsteps.

Her eyes flew open.

Someone else was there, and she wasn’t dreaming. She was lost in the tunnels and she wasn’t alone.

Katie froze as something touched her hair. It was like the ghost in the library all over again. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could make a sound, a hand clamped over her mouth, smothering the sound.

“Katie, it’s me.”

Mark?

Katie recognized his voice and stopped struggling. She heard a tiny click, and a penlight came on. He shined it on
his face so she could see him. Then he lifted his hand from her mouth. Though her heart still hammered, suddenly she wasn’t afraid. She was pissed. “What’re you doing here?” She smacked his arm with her phone. “You scared me half to death!”

“I should ask you the same thing,” he said, not answering her question. “Why the hell are you in the tunnels? I thought you hated them.”

“I
do
,” she insisted, rubbing arms covered in gooseflesh. She couldn’t imagine roaming the tunnels alone, like Mark. It was beyond creepy. “I was worried about Tessa, so I followed her down—” She stopped herself, suddenly unsure of how much to say.

“Tessa’s in the tunnels?” Mark frowned.

“Somewhere, I guess.” Katie sighed with frustration. “She’s been thinking about the fire. She was pretty upset before she went to bed. Maybe you could help me find her.…”

Mark made a noise. “If Tessa knows the tunnels, we could hunt for weeks and never find her, not unless she wanted us to.”

“What if she’s in danger?” Katie said, wondering why Mark wasn’t more concerned. A girl had disappeared from a party at the headmaster’s house. What if Tessa got snatched, too?

“Tessa can take care of herself,” he said quietly. “You’re the one who needs to be more careful. You shouldn’t have come by yourself.”

“But I was worried about her!” Katie didn’t need a lecture. She just wanted to get out of there. She was starting to shiver.

“Well, I’m worried about
you
,” Mark said, and took her hand. “Let’s get you somewhere warm. I’ll take you home after, I promise. I’m headed to the greenhouse. It’s not far.”

He wanted her to go with him to the greenhouse? The only place Katie wanted to go was back to her dorm. “Mark, I don’t think—”

“Please,” he said, “unless you’re afraid.”

Katie wasn’t sure if he was asking if she was afraid of the tunnels or of him. At that moment, she was way more scared of being stranded underground than being alone with him.

“Don’t lose me, okay?” she said, giving him her answer. She didn’t want to get stuck in the tunnels. She couldn’t imagine having to stay down there much longer. It felt like being buried alive.

“I won’t lose you, I promise.”

She caught a glimpse of a smile as he moved around her. Katie grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and held on as he navigated the passageway. Soon they were at the greenhouse grate.

Mark offered her a leg up, and Katie reached for the edges of the hole.

Then she pulled herself up and over, sprawling onto the greenhouse floor.

She sighed with relief at the sight of the moonlight spilling in through the glass panels. The warm, damp air settled on her skin like dew, and sweat trickled down her back beneath her T-shirt.

Mark emerged far more gracefully. He tucked his flashlight
into the pocket of his hoodie as they walked through rows of plants. When he headed toward the far corner where the rosebushes bloomed, Katie didn’t follow.

He turned around. “What’s wrong?”

A prickle of fear raced up Katie’s spine. She told herself it had nothing to do with being alone with Mark. It was something else. She thought of the rose petal she’d found on the floor by her bed and all the times before when she’d smelled roses in her sleep. Did Tessa have something to do with that? Was Tessa
trying
to scare her? It didn’t make sense.

“Sometimes I get the feeling someone’s watching me,” she said, because that was the only way she could explain it.

“I feel that way, too, in the tunnels sometimes.” Mark glanced around, walking toward her. “But no one else is here now.”

“How do you know?” She looked down the length of the greenhouse, at the rows of plants that seemed to go on forever; at the glass walls and ceiling that would be so easy to peer through. There was a muted
shhh
every time the mister went on, rustling leaves.

“I just know,” he said, nodding toward a slim wooden bench. “C’mon, sit.”

Katie wasn’t so sure. But she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms and settled down beside him.

“I’ve missed you,” Mark said softly. She saw the play of emotions on his face, made more dramatic by the shadows. “It’s been a rough week.”

“How’re you holding up?” she asked.

He gave her a sad half smile. “That’s what I should be asking you.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Katie. I’m sorry for everything.”

Instinctively, she touched his hand. “You didn’t cause this.”

“I feel like I did.” Mark stared off into the distance. He looked so serious. “Maybe it’s karma kicking me in the ass because I had it too good and I took it all for granted.”

“No,” Katie said, remembering what Dr. Capello had told her. “You didn’t bring this on any more than I did. Someone out there is seriously sick.”

“And not in a good way.”

“I know you didn’t send me the hand,” she told him, something she’d believed from the start. Mark was a lot of things, but he wasn’t bat-shit crazy.

“No.”

“You didn’t cheat on me either, did you?” she said, wondering if he would hesitate before he answered. But he didn’t even pause.

“No.”
His voice was ragged. His eyes glistened as he turned to her. He looked so frustrated and so
vulnerable
, which wasn’t a word Katie had ever associated with him. “It’s like one night wrecked my whole life, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Hey,” she said, and touched his cheek. “Don’t give up.”

“I keep trying to remember what happened at the party. I feel like I know something more, but I’m not sure how to get it out.”

“Give it time,” Katie whispered.

“But I don’t have time! The police interviewed me for two hours the other day, Katie. Two freaking hours! They took my prints and swabbed my cheek for a DNA test. I hope they tested Steve, too.”

“You honestly believe he hurt Rose? That he cut off her hand?” Katie shivered. Yeah, Steve Getty was a total douche. But lots of guys were, and it didn’t mean they could murder someone.

“It wasn’t me,” Mark said, “it couldn’t have been.”

“They’ll find whoever did it,” Katie told him, though it sounded lame even to her ears. “At least you have a lot of support.”

“Really?” Mark let out a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You’ve got Charlie,” Katie said, because he was Mark’s closest friend. Maybe Charlie was avoiding her, but he couldn’t possibly be avoiding Mark, too.

Mark rubbed his hands together. “Charlie’s been acting strange.”

“I heard Joelle defend you.”

“No way.” He laughed. “Was she high?”

“She was really upset,” Katie said, recalling the tears on Joelle’s cheeks. “She said you won’t listen to her but what you saw wasn’t how things happened.”

“Oh, man. She’s even working you now, trying to convince me she didn’t cheat.” He rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head. “She’s wrong. I know what I saw. She had her skirt up and Getty was on top of her, going at it. He sent her roses the next day, or so I heard.”

Roses.

Katie shivered. “That doesn’t mean she wanted it, you know.”

Mark sighed. “Joelle doesn’t take crap from anyone. She’s tough.”

“But she’s a size two,” Katie reminded him. “Steve’s big, like you. Maybe he drugged her, too.”

“You don’t really think—Aw, damn,” Mark started, then stopped and exhaled. “If he raped her, why didn’t she report it? Why would she keep her mouth shut?”

Katie could think of a million reasons. “Maybe she was scared. Maybe she didn’t think anyone would believe her. You didn’t.”

Mark pinched his eyes closed. “My father said something after I fought with Steve in the dining hall. Like, Steve’s dad wouldn’t argue because Steve was lucky to be at Whitney.”

“What if he’s done it before?” Katie said, heart thumping. “What if he did it again?”

“To Rose, you mean?” Mark let out a slow breath. “If I hadn’t passed out, if I could’ve stayed awake, maybe things would be different. Maybe Rose would be okay, and I wouldn’t be so alone in this.”

“Hey.” Katie nudged him. “You’ve got me.”

“Do I?” he whispered.

He sounded so sad, it broke her heart.

I’m sorry. It’ll be okay. Don’t give up
, she wanted to say. But the words seemed too cliché.

Katie didn’t know how to comfort him. She didn’t understand what was going on any more than he did. She wanted
to trust him completely again, to go back to the way they were. God, but she was tired. She put her head on his shoulder, leaning into him as his arm came around her.

They didn’t say much more, just sat like that until light crept across the inky sky and Katie realized they had to get moving.

As she stood, she heard faint noises—voices and an occasional dog’s bark—from beyond the greenhouse, somewhere across the creek.

“What is it?” Mark asked.

“No clue.” She went up to the tempered-glass wall that dripped with condensation and rubbed a circle to see through. She peered ahead to where the woods began. The glow of flashlights bumped along as dark figures meandered through the trees. She wondered what they were doing. It was way too early for a leisurely stroll.

Mark came up behind her, his breath soft in her hair.

“Oh, man, it’s the search dogs. They’re looking for the body,” he said, and Katie felt her skin turn to goose bumps again. “They’re looking for Rose.”

M
ark barely made it to hockey practice that morning before his first class. He’d slept badly after leaving Katie at Amelia House and returning through the grate in his basement. Though he’d gone back to bed, he kept thinking he heard the search dogs barking and wondered if they’d found Rose’s body.

When he saw his father at breakfast, he asked if they’d turned up anything. His dad shook his head. “Nothing yet,” he said grimly.

When Mark finally got to the rink, there wasn’t the usual trash talk in the locker room. In the days before a big game, the team could get pretty rowdy, banging pads, pounding lockers, making noise about kicking ass. “Eye of the tiger!” someone was always yelling. There was no game bigger for Whitney than the prep school state championship. But the
locker room had turned into a library with everyone speaking in hushed voices, or at least they whispered whenever Mark came around. He felt less part of the team than odd man out.

They looked at him with narrowed eyes, as though he’d done something wrong when all he’d tried to do was throw a party for his friends.

“Summers,” someone called out as Mark reached into his locker for his helmet. “Yo, Mark, you deaf or what?”

“Sorry, bro, just thinking,” he said as Charlie waddled over in his goalie’s gear. He had his helmet cocked back on his head so the cage covered his forehead but not his face. He wore a white practice jersey, while Mark wore black. Usually, they played together, but this morning they were on opposite sides in the scrimmage.

“You ready?” his friend asked, leaning on his stick.

“Almost,” Mark said, nodding down at his feet. “Just lacing up the skates.”

“You doing all right?” Charlie asked, and shifted on his feet. “It’s got to be hard, everyone talking about you and Rose.”

“It sucks.” Mark sighed, glancing up. “It’s like I’ve got dog crap on my shoes and no one wants to smell it.”
Including you
, he wanted to add, but didn’t.

Charlie frowned. “That’s harsh.”

“Getty loves it, I’m sure.”

“Speaking of dog shit,” Charlie murmured. “You keeping a safe distance from him, outside the rink, I mean?”

“As much as I can.” Mark had done his best to avoid Steve
Getty since the fight. It sucked that he had to deal with the guy at practice.

“I heard the cops are back on campus,” Charlie said, rubbing the bump on his nose. “Did they get a tip or something?”

“They’ve got dogs sniffing for the body,” Mark told him.

“The body,” Charlie repeated, and released a slow breath. “So she’s really dead?”

“Hard to imagine her walking around without a hand, bro,” Mark said. “I just hope they find her soon and prove I had nothing to do with it.”

“You didn’t do it, man. You didn’t mess her up,” Charlie said, and there was something in his voice that made Mark stop lacing his skates and look up.