And Then I Found Out the Truth (12 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Sturman

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But there were probably only a handful of brown-haired women wearing zebra stripes.

Sixteen

That morning was cool and damp, and despite what I’d been told about New York being such a diverse and individualistic place, it seemed like every single person on the subway was wearing a beige trench coat.

Not Charley, of course. She was wearing her zebra print, but between the weather and our rotten moods, the striped material looked somehow less bold, like it would rather have been an area rug than a coat, so it could lie inside on a nice quiet floor instead of having to traipse around the city in the drizzle and mist.

Meanwhile, I was wearing my uniform, but it wasn’t by choice. I’d tried to convince Charley with what little coherence I had left after another sleepless night that today would be a really good day to skip school. And it wasn’t just that I wanted to be conveniently absent for Dr. Penske’s pop quiz, though that would have been an added plus. Instead, I wanted to go to the airport to meet Rafe’s flight, so he could tell us whatever news he had, we could tell him ours, and then he could return to Argentina and make sure none of the various bad guys converging on Buenos Aires could get anywhere near my mother.

Charley, however, refused to be persuaded by any of my extremely valid arguments. “I made a promise to Dr. Penske that you would pass this quiz, and you can’t pass if you’re not there to take it. And he pledged scout’s honor. I can’t renege.”

“But you’re not the scout. He is.”

“If one party of an agreement is a scout, that automatically binds every party of the agreement to the scouting code of honor.”

“I bet you don’t even know what the scouting code of honor is,” I said.

“No, but I think it’s safe to assume honoring one’s promises is part of it,” said Charley. “And also helping old people across the street.”

After some back-and-forth, we reached a compromise. I’d stay at Prescott until physics was over, but Charley would come up with an excuse so I could leave after and we’d go meet Rafe together.

Once that was settled, Charley insisted on spending the trip uptown trying to help me study. Unfortunately, I’d made the mistake of telling her how memorizing Natalie’s directions was like memorizing lines for a play, and Charley felt we should do a dramatic reading of the study guide, right there on the subway. At this point, we’d pretty much given up worrying about people staring — in fact, Charley’s attitude was that we might as well embrace it — so we ran through the mock quiz and everyone around us watched like we were insane. It was completely mortifying, though I had to admit it was useful for refreshing my memory.

“Who is this Edward person?” she asked after we’d finished the final Edward-referencing question and acknowledged the applause from our audience.

“Some guy from Dalton. Natalie thought he was her soul mate, but then Gwyneth told her he’s a player, so now Natalie’s figuring out if she can sue him for fraud or misrepresentation or something like that.”

“Natalie the genius prodigy is taking relationship advice from one of the Monkeys?”

“It wasn’t really advice — more like data. Natalie did her own analysis and interpretation.”

“That’s it,” said Charley. “I know what I’m doing after Dieter is dead. There’s clearly a massive demand for my services.”

“Which services?”

“Young love advisory services. The youth of America need me. They’ll be so much less mopey and whiny once I’m finished with them, and the entire country will be grateful. I’m seeing the Presidential Medal of Freedom and possibly even a Nobel Peace Prize in my future. What do you think?”

“Definitely the Nobel,” I said.

When I arrived at Prescott, Natalie was waiting out front, holding an umbrella patterned with the Copernican model of the solar system (at least, that’s what it said on the umbrella). “I was hoping I’d catch you before school started,” she said.

I assumed she wanted to cram in more physics prep — she probably didn’t trust that I’d done any on my own, which wasn’t so far from the truth. “I did study,” I said, trying not to sound too defensive. “Really.”

“That’s great,” she said, like she was proud of me. “You’ll find it makes the quiz-taking experience far less traumatic. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She pulled out her iPhone and began dialing into voice mail. “This came in last night, but I had the phone turned off — the cellular signal interferes with the experiments I’m running on nanowave frequencies in a fixed optic environment — so I only received the message this morning, when I switched the phone back on.”

“Is it from Edward?” I asked, thinking maybe she had another data point and wanted my help with the analysis.

“No,” she said, with a noncommittal shrug. “I’m still working on that. Here.”

Natalie handed me the phone, and an automated voice announced she had one saved message, sent yesterday at 9:34 P.M. from a local caller, though I didn’t recognize the number.

Then another voice, a real one, began speaking, and after a two-and-a-half-day absence, it was good for a quick spasm of brain paralysis.

Uh, Natalie. Hi. This is Quinn. Quinn Riley. From Prescott.

I felt the uncontrollable smile spreading across my face. Did Quinn really not understand he needed no introduction? Everyone at Prescott knew exactly who he was, from the littlest kid in pre-K all the way up to the most ancient member of the faculty.

Sorry to bother you, but I don’t have, uh, access to my phone, so I don’t have Delia’s number on me, and I can’t remember the last few digits right — numbers aren’t really my thing — and her aunt’s unlisted, and I’d call her other aunt but that’s sort of tricky, and then I found you in the Prescott directory — I only have last year’s and Delia’s not in it — anyhow, I was hoping you could give me her number. But you’re not there. And you can’t call me, because this isn’t my phone and I’ll need to put it back soon. And now I’m rambling. Sorry about that. But maybe you could give Delia a message, if it’s not too much trouble? Would you mind telling her —

He paused, as if he was trying to figure out how to word his message. And then, in the background, there was a sudden creaking noise, like the hinges of a door opening, and a woman cried out.

The recording ended with an abrupt click, before Quinn could say what he wanted Natalie to tell me. But I guessed Fiona had found her cell phone.

Knowing that Quinn had been trying to reach me didn’t solve any problems, but it did make me feel less like the world was coming to an end. Even if he was in serious trouble, I could put any concerns about him losing interest to temporary rest, and there was something totally endearing about how awkward he’d sounded. I spent most of my morning classes replaying his words in my head.

And then physics rolled around, leaving only the quiz standing between me and freedom. I tried to act surprised when Dr. Penske told us to put everything away except our pens and calculators, though he actually winked at me as he distributed the xeroxed copies. And as soon as I turned the paper over I saw Natalie had been right — the quiz was almost identical to her study guide, just without the Edward parts. I didn’t even feel completely lost as I worked my way through the problems. Of course, Charley’s dramatic reading had included tributes to the entire
90210
cast, so I kept hearing Luke Perry and Tori Spelling in my head as I tried to remember which steps to take.

Either way, when Dr. Penske called time, I was pretty sure I’d at least passed. And then it was like Charley was tracking our status remotely, because a hall monitor came in with a note for me to report to the office.

Except it turned out Charley had nothing to do with it. Mr. Seton had called me in there all on his own.

I arrived fully expecting to be told Charley would be picking me up for a forgotten doctor’s appointment. And even when the receptionist said Mr. Seton wanted to see me personally, I only thought maybe he’d decided to use the occasion of my passing through his office for a quick headmaster-to-student chat.

But once I’d been ushered into his inner sanctum, he gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk, and then he sat down in his own chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.

“Miss Truesdale, as I’m sure you’re aware, it has recently come to the attention of the administration that several members of our senior class have engaged in an inappropriate business venture, and, in doing so, abused Prescott’s facilities and resources.”

“Uh, yes, I heard about that,” I said, confused.

“It also has not escaped our attention that you have become quite friendly with one of the seniors suspected of playing a pivotal role in these regrettable activities.”

Mr. Seton obviously wasn’t referring to Grey — he’d already been caught and confessed, so he wasn’t “suspected.” Besides, it was impossible to become “quite friendly” with somebody who seemed to be sleeping with his eyes open most of the time.

Which meant Mr. Seton was referring to Quinn, who was the only other senior I really knew apart from Gwyneth. But since I still didn’t understand what was happening, I only said, “Do you mean Quinn?”

“Correct. And I’ve asked you here to give you the opportunity to come forward of your own volition and share with me any knowledge of the inappropriate activities to which you were privy as a function of your relationship with Mr. Riley.”

If I’d had my wits more about me, I might have asked how summoning me to his office constituted giving me the opportunity to come forward of my own volition, but I was too busy being baffled. “I wasn’t privy to anything.”

“You’re certain of that?” he said, like he was certain of something very different.

“I’m certain.”

“Completely certain?”

“Completely certain.” And then, because I really couldn’t figure out what was going on, I asked, “Did Quinn say I knew something?”

“No. Mr. Riley has been less than forthcoming on this matter. I was hoping you would be more cooperative.”

And maybe because this had all come from so out of the blue and maybe because of the ridiculously large quantity of other things I was stressed about, I stopped being baffled and started being angry. In fact, I might have lost it. “So, Quinn hasn’t told you anything, but you called me in here because you hoped I’d narc on him?”

“I don’t believe ‘narc’ is the accurate term —”

“Is this what you did to him?” “Excuse me?”

“Did you call him in here and say you were giving him the opportunity to come forward of his own volition and then when he wouldn’t tell you anything you suspended him?”

“That’s hardly a fair descrip —”

“Are you going to suspend me, too, for not telling you what I don’t know?”

“Miss Truesdale, I have no interest in suspending you. Unless, of course, I discover that you have engaged in activities that merit suspension —”

“I haven’t. And I don’t know anything about what Quinn did or didn’t do. How can I be privy when I never see Quinn or talk to Quinn or get so much as a complete message from Quinn?”

Mr. Seton didn’t answer that. He just waited a moment, as if to make sure I really was done. Then he spoke. “Thank you, Miss Truesdale. That will be all for now. You may go.”

Seventeen

Charley was waiting in the reception area, since when she’d called to get me out of class she’d been told I was already in Mr. Seton’s office. And as soon as I explained what had happened, she wanted to march in there and tell him off herself, but I managed to convince her that would be overkill. Two Truesdale tantrums in one day might be more than Mr. Seton could handle, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to get Patience involved. It seemed wisest to flee before it occurred to anyone to question Charley’s excuse for taking me out of school. I mean, how many sixteen-year-olds actually needed to be rushed to emergency appointments with their herbalists?

Not that we were doing any such thing. In reality, Charley had arranged for us to meet Rafe nearby, at the oval-shaped boat pond in Central Park. The rain had stopped, but the weather was still misty and gray, so there wouldn’t be too many people out — we’d be able to talk in relative privacy.

Rafe, however, had arrived at the boat pond before us, and he’d been unable to resist renting one of the radio-controlled miniature sloops from the concessions stand. He’d also challenged a bunch of little kids to a race, and he was crowing in victory when we showed up. Of course, then one of the kids started to cry, so he felt obligated to stage a rematch and let her win.

That done, he trotted over to join us at the table we’d found in the café area and gratefully accepted a cup of the hot chocolate we’d bought at the counter. And as he was working through his initial blushing and stammering in Charley’s presence, we brought him up-to-date on everything we’d learned while he was gone.

By the time we’d finished, Rafe had restored himself to a functioning condition, and he addressed my most immediate fears first. “Your mother is quite safe,” he said. “I assure you, there is no cause for concern. She is understandably frustrated by her inability to act more directly, but she recognizes the need for caution. In the meantime, she and Mark are well disguised and in comfortable accommodations, and they are taking the most stringent of measures to protect their welfare. And Mark is highly skilled in Krav Maga.”

“What’s Krav Maga?” I asked.

“It’s a form of martial arts that draws from both boxing and wrestling,” Rafe explained. “It originated in Bratislava in the nineteen thirties but is now widely deployed among elite military units around the globe. Mark became proficient when he trained with the Israeli Defense Forces.”

“What kind of climate change specialist trains with the Israeli Defense Forces?” asked Charley.

“Mark is not your typical climate change specialist,” said Rafe. “You’ll enjoy meeting him.”

Given T.K.'s situation, I was glad Mark knew martial arts, but I was less interested in meeting him than in figuring out what we were going to do to get him and my mother back to their respective homes. “Did you find out about the people from the
Polar Star?”
I asked.

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