Very Bad Things (5 page)

Whitney wasn’t exactly home, but Katie had adapted well enough these past four years. Whenever she got homesick, she’d remind herself that her father had once arrived at the imposing wrought-iron gates as a scholarship kid, just like her. She doubted the school had changed much since then.

It was a twist of fate that eventually landed her at Whitney Prep. Her dad had always wanted her to go, but her mom had been dead set against sending her so far away. “No eleven-year-old girl should be apart from her mother,” Katie remembered hearing her mother argue. “Besides, she’s been attending St. Mary’s since preschool. It’d break her heart to leave her friends there.”

That was back when Katie’s dad was alive and they’d lived in a big house in a posh suburb, when her mom had dabbled in the Junior League and played tennis at the country club.
But that life had disappeared when Katie turned twelve, the market crashed, and her dad lost everything. He’d died in their garage, sitting in his Mercedes sedan with the engine running. “Heart attack,” her mom told everyone, but Katie knew no one believed her. When the dust had settled, they had next to nothing. Her mom went to work as a secretary so they could afford to rent an apartment, and Katie transferred to public school. Katie missed her friends at St. Mary’s. She felt like an outcast at public school, especially since everyone gossiped about her behind her back. She wasn’t just the new girl. She was “the girl whose dad had offed himself.”

After her dad had been buried and the lawyers had sorted through the mess of paperwork, they found something that had stunned both Katie and her mother: before he’d killed himself, her dad had sent off an application for Katie to go to Whitney on scholarship. And she’d been accepted.

Instead of freaking out and insisting Katie stay home, her mom had seemed relieved. “I hate that you’re going away, sweetheart,” she’d said, “but your dad was right. Whitney’s as good an education as you’ll get anywhere, and it’s what he always wanted.”

Losing her dad had been rough all around. Her mom hardly acted like her mother anymore. Katie figured it was the Valium that her mom swallowed like aspirin. It made her numb, like a walking zombie. She could barely take care of herself, much less Katie.

So Katie’s bags had been packed, and she’d been shipped off to Whitney to start her freshman year.

She’d met Tessa right off the bat, when they were thrown together in Amelia House, one of the girls’ dorms. “You’re a scholly kid, too, huh?” Tessa had remarked before even saying hello. “They like sticking us charity cases together.”

Katie remembered being struck by Tessa’s ice-blue eyes and her tough-girl demeanor. It had taken a while for Tessa to trust her. Now Katie wondered if she was the only person in the world Tessa trusted.

She pressed her forehead to the window splashed with drizzle as the rain began to fall, and her thoughts turned to Mark. She was happy he’d been hanging around to see her off on the bus this morning, but he’d looked so tired and anxious. When she’d asked what was up, he’d grumbled about trying to find something that was missing.

“Do you need me to help?”

“Nope.”

“Did you lose it at the party?”

“Not sure.”

What kind of answer was that?

“How wasted were you?” Katie asked.

“I wasn’t wasted!” he’d snapped. “Two beers don’t get me drunk.”

“Okay, okay.” She’d backed off, not used to him barking at her like that.

“Sorry.” He’d pressed his mouth into a tight line, and Katie had known there was something he wasn’t telling her.

She’d touched his cheek. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know.” He had sighed. “Okay, don’t hate me, but I can’t find the St. Sebastian medal.”

“You lost it? Oh, Mark.” Katie had given it to him right before the prep school hockey play-offs. St. Sebastian looked after athletes and soldiers, which felt like one and the same whenever Katie watched Mark on the ice. And he had the biggest game yet of the season two weeks off. “I can skip the trip to the morgue and help you look for it.”

“No,” Mark had replied, and rubbed his stubbly jaw. “I’ll find it. I’m just having some trouble remembering stuff.”

Katie had squinted at him. “But you said you weren’t drunk.”

“I
wasn’t
.” He’d glanced around them and tugged down the bill of his cap. “Can we not talk about this? I feel like crap, and I need to get to class.”

“Sure.” Katie didn’t want to argue. Instead, she’d forced a smile and kept it light. “I’ll see you when I’m back from dissecting a dead guy, okay?”

He’d tousled her hair. “Yeah, have fun with that.”

She had paused on the bus’s steps and glanced back at Mark as he’d walked away, feeling a knot in the pit of her stomach. She felt that knot even now as she stared out the window at a uniformed guard waving the bus onto campus. Katie peered through the drizzle as the administration building came into view.

There was Mark, his arms crossed as he leaned against a pillar. He put a hand above his eyes, and Katie knew he was looking for her. She beat on the window until he spotted her and waved back.

Tessa groaned. “Ever heard of playing hard to get?”

“Why? He’s already got me,” Katie said. She couldn’t stand
up fast enough when the bus finally parked. It let out a gassy puff and then a squeal as the pleated door opened. Chatter swelled around them as Katie stood, nudging Tessa into the aisle.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tessa said as they disembarked. “It’s spaghetti today, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Katie murmured, only half listening.

“Hey!” She heard Mark’s voice above the others and then saw his blond hair and wide shoulders pushing through the crush of people as he made his way toward her.

“Hey, yourself!” Katie said, and dropped her bag to throw her arms around him, holding on tight. The Whitney rule book stated:
No public displays of affection on campus shall be tolerated
. Right. Maybe that made sense to the Whitney sisters who’d founded the school a hundred fifty years ago. Katie had seen old paintings of them. Calling them ugly was an understatement. She highly doubted they’d had to worry about PDAs with anyone. But how was she supposed to resist a guy who smelled as good as Mark? She inhaled the sweetness of his skin, like soap and citrus and something entirely masculine.

“You must’ve missed me,” he said, and drew back, resting his forehead on hers.

“I did.” Katie’s heart swelled. She was happy to see him looking more like himself. “I hope everything lost is found?”

“I’ve got the most important thing right here,” he said, sidestepping her question by distracting her with a kiss.

Tessa cleared her throat. “If you haven’t noticed, our bug-eyed AP Bio instructor, Mr. Archibald, is staring daggers over
here. So unless you’re itching for demerits, you should put a little space between you.”

Katie sighed. “C’mon, Tessa—”

“She’s right.” Mark leaned closer to whisper, “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Reluctantly, she took a step back and turned to see that Mr. Archibald was indeed watching. She gave him a little wave, which softened his pinched expression the tiniest bit.

Katie turned back to her boyfriend.

“You up for lunch?” she asked, and Mark nodded. “Good, ’cause Tessa and I were headed that way, weren’t we?”

Her roommate uttered an unenthusiastic “Uh-huh.”

Mark grabbed Katie’s bag and slung it over his shoulder. She caught his hand and laced her fingers with his. “I don’t want to see another corpse as long as I live,” she told him as they walked. “Poor Mr. Ogden. He looked so—”

“Dead?” Tessa finished for her.

Katie stuck her tongue out at her friend.

“So it went okay?” Mark asked. “I can’t picture you cutting up a worm, much less a person.”

“Well.” Katie paused, making a face. “I didn’t exactly, um, I kind of couldn’t go through with it.”

“Katie’s a marshmallow.” Tessa caught up with them, her long legs keeping pace. “She’s not good with blood and guts.”

“Tessa came to my rescue,” Katie admitted.

Mark wrinkled his brow. “What happened?”

“You should ask your buddy Steve,” Tessa said, her head down.

“What about Steve?” Mark stopped just outside the cafeteria. He caught Katie by the arm. “Did he do something to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Katie tugged at his hand. “He’s not worth worrying about.”

“It matters to me,” Mark insisted. He looked at Tessa. “What?”

“Tessa, don’t,” Katie said under her breath, but Tessa ignored her.

“The jerk shoved your girlfriend into the dead guy’s lap, that’s what,” Tessa reported, stretching the truth by a hair. “Now can we go inside and have some spaghetti like everyone else?” Tessa waved at the students coming and going around them. “Or should we stand here and take a poll on whether or not Steve Getty is the biggest douche on the planet?”

V
oices swirled around them the moment they stepped inside the dining hall. Heads turned as they walked past. Katie felt like everyone in the room was watching them and whispering. Mark didn’t seem to notice, but then he was used to being the center of attention. It made Katie uneasy.

Had the whole school already heard about her panic attack at the morgue?

She stared down at her feet, hanging on to Mark’s hand as he headed toward the lunch line.

“Hey, bro! Over here!” A whoop rose from a table filled with Mark’s teammates, and Katie caught Steve Getty waving wildly at them.

To her dismay, Mark let go of her hand and walked straight in Steve’s direction.

Katie glared at Tessa. “Look what you started,” she said, and went after him.

“Summers, you dog!” Steve smirked as Mark approached. He stepped over the bench and gave Mark a slap on the back. “I might’ve expected it from you, but not her,” he added, eyebrows arching as Katie approached. “Guess she just pretends to be shy, huh?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mark asked, shaking off Steve’s arm. He dropped Katie’s book bag. “You can stir shit with me all you want, but leave Katie out of it.”

“Mark?” Katie stepped between them. “Let’s go get lunch.”

“Yeah, don’t mind me.” Steve threw his hands up, backing off. “Just thought I’d give you a heads-up about the picture going viral, that’s all.”

“What picture?” Katie asked, and she glanced at Charlie, Mark’s best friend on the hockey squad. Though he sat at the table next to Steve, he didn’t even look up. “What’s going on?”

“Getty must be bored with sending pics of his hairy ass to everyone.” Mark snatched up her book bag and grabbed her hand. “Sounds like he’s playing cut and paste with Photoshop.”

“It’s your funeral!” Steve called after them.

Katie glanced back over her shoulder to see Steve grinning—but there was something else in his face. Something raw and angry. “He’s not exactly your biggest fan, is he?”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Mark said.

Katie saw Charlie get up, like he wanted to come after Mark, but Steve clamped a hand on his shoulder and he settled back into his seat.

“Aren’t you curious?” Katie asked as they got in line and Mark handed her a tray. “Don’t you want to see for yourself?”

“Nah.” Mark shrugged. “Knowing Steve, he’s stuck my head on some porno dude’s body. I’d kind of like to eat my lunch, not lose it.”

Katie couldn’t let it go. “What if it’s not that at all? What if he’s got a shot of you drinking? That could keep you from playing in the state championship, maybe even bar you from graduation, no matter who your dad is,” Katie said, her mind whirring. She wouldn’t put anything past Steve Getty. Ever since he’d shown up at Whitney in the middle of last semester, he’d needed to be the star. Except Mark had that covered.

“Relax. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Mark insisted, sounding agitated. He slapped a plate of spaghetti on his tray, then headed to the nearest table, dropping their book bags on the floor.

Maybe he didn’t notice people staring at them, but Katie did. And this time, she could tell that it wasn’t because Mark stood out in a crowd. Something was clearly up, and Steve Getty was behind it.

“Why’s everyone acting weird?” Tessa asked as she joined them at the table. “Do I have toilet paper stuck to my shoes? Is my skirt tucked into my underwear?”

“It’s not you,” Katie said.

Tessa shrugged and started twirling spaghetti onto her fork.

Katie watched Mark pick at his food, pushing it around with his fork. What wasn’t he telling her?

She opened her mouth to ask again if there wasn’t
something he was keeping from her. But Katie felt a presence behind her even before she heard someone clearing their throat.

She turned to find Joelle Needham clutching an iPad to her oversized chest.

Katie had to bite her tongue to keep from asking Joelle if she ordered her Whitney blazer too small on purpose.

“Wow, don’t you look bummed,” Mark’s ex-girlfriend said, her glossy lips pouting. “But I guess I’d be, too, if I knew everyone was eyeballing a pic of me naked. Good thing the lighting sucks. That hides a lot of flaws.” Joelle smiled at Katie. “You should thank God for that, sweetie.”