Circle of Silence (18 page)

“He was going to do it no matter what you said, Val. All you
did was try to help.”

“A lot of good that did,” I mutter.

He waves my self-pity aside. “Focus, Valerie. Did you recognize
any of the voices?”

I shake my head. “It was hard to hear everyone clearly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jagger said there were five people. Four did most of the
talking. But there was someone who hardly said anything until the end.” I find
the spot on the computer, play it back. It’s the low, whispered voice. “Sounds
like ‘It’s done. Can we get him down?’”

Raul stops pacing about and sits on my bed. “That could be
their weak link.”

I move to him. “Meaning…?”

“Since he didn’t say a word until that point, it could be
someone who wasn’t into this particular initiation.”

“Why didn’t he do something to stop it?” I ask.

“Same reason Taneisha isn’t talking. They’re afraid.”

“Okay. So, what if that’s who’s sending me emails?”

“Exactly.” Raul’s jumpy, all keyed up. “Remember Jagger’s mom
saying she didn’t realize he had so many friends? What if one of those people
visiting is MP.”

“Why? The hospital’s the last place I’d go if I were in the
group.”

“Think about it. You’re the person who isn’t happy with Pass
Out as the initiation, but you get outvoted. Or no one asked your opinion in the
first place. However it happened, once Jagger ends up in the hospital, wouldn’t
you feel guilty? Wouldn’t you need to see for yourself if he’s getting
better?”

I feel myself nodding slowly. “We could camp out at the
hospital, see if we recognize any voices from the tape.”

“Or get a look at the visitor log. Maybe a name will pop
out.”

“There’s something else,” I tell him. “Right after it happened,
I thought the double agent played me. Told me the initiation was at the flagpole
so I’d go there while they brought Jagger to the warehouse. But maybe he didn’t
know, either. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be at the flagpole and it got
changed at the last minute.”

“Because Skeletor doesn’t trust anyone. Or he doesn’t trust the
double agent. Listening to the footage, it sure sounds like he’s the
leader.”

“The last email I got said there are spies everywhere and it’s
too dangerous to email again. So yeah, Skeletor might suspect someone.”

Raul grabs his jacket. “I’ll go to the hospital while you send
an email. Tell the double agent we can help, that we’ll keep his identity a
secret if he talks to us.” He holds up a hand to still my protest. “I know you
think he won’t answer, but it’s worth a try. Stay here in case there’s a
response.”

I take my time composing an email. I want to get it right.

I know you want to stop the MP madness. The dangerous
initiations. It’s not hard to figure out that’s why Jagger participated in Pass
Out. So please. We have to meet. Wherever you say—but we need to do it soon.
I’ll protect you. I promise. No one needs to know your name. Ever. Contact me
any way you can.

* * *

The hours go by. Raul texts to tell me he’s going to
wait for Jagger’s mom to come by. I’m about to crawl out of my skin when Bethany
barges into the room. She stops when she sees me. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Funny. I mean, what are you doing home before me? You never
get back from school first.”

“I didn’t go today. Got halfway to WiHi, felt sick and turned
around.”

She looks at me suspiciously. “You’ve been here all day?
Alone?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I don’t know.” She crinkles her eyes, looks around the room as
if there’s something she should figure out.

Damn!
Two pillows sit side by side
against the wall. Casually, I move to the bed, grab both pillows and fluff them
together before randomly tossing them back onto the mattress. “I hope I’m not
getting what you had a few weeks ago. Or that terrible flu.”

Bethany gives me a piercing stare. “You don’t seem sick.”

“That’s what sleeping half the day gets you.” That’s when I
remember that the only thing I ate was a bagel. “I’m going to get something from
the kitchen.”

She plops on her bed. “And I care because…”

“I am your one and only sister and you love and worship
me.”

“Ha!” she snorts. “Wait, Val! Any news about Jagger?”

“They took him off the breathing machine.”

She sits up. “They did? When?”

“Last night. He still hasn’t woken up, so no one knows if it
means he’s getting better for good.”

She plucks the sheet. “I was afraid, when I saw you home…”

“Yeah. But no, he’s the same.”

Something flickers in Bethany’s eyes.
Omigod!
The clothes, the haircut, the not telling me Jagger talked
to her at the Video Arcade. Showing up at the hospital with Mom…

“You’re crushing on him, aren’t you?”

My sister gets defensive. “Just because he’s the only one of
your friends who ever talked to me doesn’t mean I’m in love with him.”

“Marci talks to you.”

“Like I’m a baby. Jagger treats me like I’m his age.”

I can’t decide if I should pity, be pissed at or be amused by
my sister. I go for letting her down gently. “Don’t be fooled, Bethany. Jagger’s
a flirt whenever a girl’s around. He can’t help it. It doesn’t mean
anything.”

She looks so angry I dodge out of slugging range. “See what I
mean? You act like I don’t know anything. I know lots. I know it’s your fault
Jagger broke up with you last year—”

“Why would you even—”

“How long did you think it would last when you act so superior
all the time? Jagger left you for that Dawn girl.” She gives me a gotcha look.
“Don’t tell me he didn’t.”

It takes every bit of self-control to keep from beating the
crap out of her. How dare she act all high and mighty, as if she’s in a secret
relationship in which Jags confides his innermost feelings to her?

“Bethany Ann Gaines, you know nothing about anything. When you
get a boyfriend, if you ever do, we’ll see how long you stay together.”

I clatter down the steps, stomp into the kitchen—but I’ve lost
my appetite. Grabbing my coat, I slam the door good and hard.

Standing on the street, I’m not sure where to go. My insides
are so steamed the cold barely affects me.

I’m the one with attitude? Does the Queen
of Sloth have any idea how she comes off?

Doesn’t matter which way I choose. Heading east, I clomp past
brownstones and apartment buildings decorated for the holidays. Christmas
lights, plastic Santas, Hanukkah menorahs. I haven’t spent one second thinking
about the holidays. Usually I leave plenty of hints about what I hope to get,
but not this year. The only present I want is something my parents can’t give
me: Jagger listening to music, doing some crazy tricks on his board, laughing at
us in
Campus News…

Even as that thought crosses my mind, dark whispers crowd it
out.
What if Bethany’s right? Jagger said it was his fault,
but what if I drove him to it? Did I really act so superior that, deep down,
he wanted to see what being with Dawn was like? Could it happen again? Will
Raul and I still be able to be friends if Jags and I do get
together?

It’s only too easy to remember what it was like to get dumped.
At the time, I came up with plenty of reasons: Jagger wished I was prettier, I’m
too interested in
Campus News,
I’m not enough of a
party girl
.
But arrogance? The thought never
occurred to me. I couldn’t possibly feel superior around him. It’s the opposite.
Deep down, I always knew he’d leave me. Even so, when it actually happened, I
was surprised. That’s not arrogance. It’s stupidity.

Streetlamps blink on. My toes are numb. Reluctantly, I head
home. I’ve got to check email—even if Bethany’s in the room. To my relief, my
sister slouches on the sofa, playing a video game. She gives me a hostile stare.
I return it before heading up the steps.

Crossing my fingers, I sign on to my email. Click the message
that awaits.

Told you before. Can’t meet you. Ever. Do not email ever again.
It’s not safe.

30

The B Team meeting the following day crackles.

“I talked to Toby,” Henry announces. “She said the only person
at school who knows enough to hack an IP address is Liam Dolan.”

“Who’s that?” Marci asks.

Henry shrugs. “I don’t know, but—”

“Hold on! The name sounds familiar. Liam, Liam…” With open
palm, I pound my head, trying to shake the memory loose. “Got it! He’s one of
the guys I tried to interview after the toilet bowl prank. Before I could even
start, Liam gave me the finger and stalked inside. We ended up shooting that
other dude.”

Marci nods. “Potty Mouth. I remember.”

“Right. Someone should talk to Liam. Maybe there’ll be others
after we play this.” I take the flash drive from my pocket. “I copied the
footage Jagger took at the initiation so we could all watch it.”

While I set up the computer, Raul says, “Listen carefully,
guys. It’s our only shot. The hospital told me it’s against regulations to show
the visitor log to anyone. We won’t be able to find MP that way. Hopefully,
someone recognizes a voice.”

Marci closes her eyes. Omar moves in front of the speakers.
Henry puts down the pencil he’s doodling with.

Raul hits Stop after the part where I find Jagger.

Marci looks sick. “Wish I hadn’t heard that.”

“I know,” I tell her. “Did you recognize anyone? Anybody?” All
around the room, heads shake. The tiny ember of hope that flared when Raul and I
found the camera in Jagger’s backpack dies a quick death. “Damn! After all he
went through, the footage is a waste.”

“There’s
got
to be some way to use
it,” Omar tells us.

Raul sighs. “I’m out of ideas.”

“It’s maddening!” I pace in front of the monitor. “To be this
close. That kid who whispered, ‘Can we get him down?’ might be exactly who we’re
looking for. The double agent. The weak link.
Why
does it have to be the quietest voice in the room?”

Omar extends a hand. “Give me the drive. Mr. C. showed me how
to boost sound back in September. I’ll see what I can do. We can talk to Liam
after that and see if his voice matches.”

“Cool.”

Henry stares at the darkened monitor. “That’s a good idea,
Omar. But why
can’t
we also broadcast some of the
footage? Do an
America’s Most Wanted
thing.”

“You mean—” Raul shifts into a deep announcer voice “—if you
recognize any one of these voices, notify
Campus News.
All leads kept confidential.” He goes back to his regular voice. “I don’t
know. Could it work with no picture?”

“It’s a waste of time,” Marci says. “The footage is useless.
You can’t figure out who’s who. My mother could be on that tape and I wouldn’t
know for sure.”

I lean forward. “Maybe all we need to do is shake them up. Get
the group upset so that they make a move. A panicked, not-well-planned move
that’ll bring them down.”

“I agree,” Henry says. “MP can’t be positive no one will
recognize a voice.
They
know who’s talking, so they
might assume everyone else does.”

“Might be worth a try.” Raul glances at me for confirmation.
“We can show, say, a minute and a half. Announce that more footage will air next
time. In the meantime, if anyone knows anything—”

“Put a note in the
Campus News
box
or contact any reporter!” I jump up. “I’ll tell Mr. Carleton we’re changing the
show. You guys choose a section that runs straight through. No edits. The last
thing we want is to be accused of messing with the footage.”

“Hold on!” Omar stops me just as I reach the control room door.
“Think about it, Val. If you go rushing off to Carleton, he might freak.”

“Why? Mr. C.
wants
us to get the
story—”

“Who’s to say the school isn’t responsible for what happened?
Jagger was doing something for a class. As the teacher in charge, Mr. Carleton
might be the person they hold accountable if his mom sues the pants off
everyone. If I were Mr. C. and you came to me right now, with Jagger in a coma,
I’d tell you to shut it down.”

“He’s not like that,” I protest.

Marci nods at Omar. “Why find out? Or get Mr. Carleton in
trouble? Let’s bring it to the cops instead of playing Channel 5 News. Let them
deal with it.”

“That’s not what Omar said,” I protest.

“Not this second. But everyone in this room promised that if we
got something solid, or anything close, that’s what we’d do.”

“It’s not like the cops don’t know about MP but have you seen
even one of them asking questions?” Raul shakes his head. “You still think the
police are going to sweep through, Marci, find out what we can’t and save the
day. This isn’t Small Town, Montana, population eight hundred. Eight
million
people live here. Someone gets robbed or raped
every hour of every day, and cops don’t do shit—”

“That’s not true,” Marci protests.

“It is! It’s happened to people I know—” Raul freezes, shocking
even himself. The control room gets deathly quiet. Nobody moves; no one knows
what to say.

He squares his shoulders, lets out a breath. “You live in a
nice, safe doorman building, Marci. Your folks probably pay half a month’s rent
just to keep their car in a lighted garage with security cams all over the
place. So you don’t realize that unless it’s murder, whenever anything happens
and the person can’t be identified, it’s pretty much ‘really sorry you had to go
through that, we’ve got your statement and where’s the front door again?’”

“I’m sure it’s not how they want it,” Henry protests. “There’s
only so much cops can do….”

“Which is why going to them with footage that doesn’t have a
single face on it is a waste of time,” I say. “Like you said, Henry, we’d do
better showing it on
Campus News.”

“But then we run into the Carleton problem,” Omar argues. “If
we
tell
him ahead of time, we take the chance he
says no.”

“What else is there?” Marci gasps. “You don’t think we should
air it without saying anything, do you? Sneak it into the broadcast and hope
Carleton won’t get mad?”

Nervously, Omar twists a stray paper clip. “I’m not saying
that’s what we should do. But yeah, it’s an option.”

“With serious consequences,” Henry mumbles.

“Like what?” I tick them off on my fingers. “Getting kicked off
Campus News?
Suspension? Expulsion?”

“Who knows?” Omar says.

I look at the team. “Then Marci’s right. If we’re afraid to air
it, we
are
just playing at being reporters. Because
the guys on TV make hard choices all the time. How far into the war zone should
I go? What if the hurricane sweeps me away? Will I get radiation poisoning if I
do one more story near the broken reactor?”

Nobody says anything.

“Who votes to air a section of the video without permission?” I
ask.

“Count me out!” Marci says. “I am not willing to screw up
senior year for something I don’t think will work. Sorry, Val. Not even for
you.”

“That’s okay. I get it.”

Marci blinks nervously. “What do I do if you show it?
Quit?”

“No.” I sigh. “If you leave right now, before anything gets
decided, you can swear you’re not part of it. And it would be true.”

To my surprise, she stays in her seat. “Listen to me, Val,
please! You’re making a big mistake. Airing that footage might be the
worst
thing you can do. Who knows what MP is capable
of? We don’t even know if the publicity we’ve given them is what caused the
warehouse mess. This might put them over the edge. Someone else could get hurt.
One of us.”

“We’ll be careful,” I tell her.

“Isn’t that what Jagger said?” She looks at the others. “I want
to find out who left him in that building as much as anyone else, but I think
going back to the police is smarter. Even if, in the end, it doesn’t do any
good, at least we tried.”

“Give us a couple of days,” I plead. “After we run the footage,
you can take it to whoever you want. The cops, Channel 5, whatever.”

Her expression is so grim I’m sure she’ll turn me down. But
years of being best friends count for something. “You’ve got two days. Clock
starts the instant the piece airs
if
that’s what you
all decide to do.”

The oxygen in the room is sucked out as Marci exits. Henry’s
head falls to his chest; Omar slumps in a chair. Raul leans tiredly against the
wall.

“You guys out, too?”

Omar can’t look at me. “I’m up for a full ride at Cooper Union.
Photography. All four years. If there’s a hint of trouble, or I make a ‘bad
choice’ and things get screwed up—my dad will kill me. I’m counting the days
until I’m out of the house, Val. You know that.”

“Henry?”

He stares at Marci through the control booth window. She sits
at the B Team table, rigid, her back to us. “I think she might be right.”

Given the choice between Marci and anyone
or anything else, it’s a Henry no-brainer.

“Then leave with Omar.” I take a deep breath. “Raul?”

“First, we need to talk.”

Omar and Henry can’t wait to get out of the room. After they’re
gone, it’s my turn to slump into a chair. “What just happened?”

Raul shakes his head. “Reality? Fear? Jagger’s freaking us all
out. Not just you.”

“I know.” I take a breath. “Tell me the truth. Is Marci right?
Did
Campus News
make it worse from the start?”

“We didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not like we put MP up to any
of it. All we did was follow the story. Like we’re supposed to.”

“Jagger didn’t just follow the story,” I moan. “He
applied—”

“And had no idea they’d choose him. He’s like that chick in the
American history book. Nellie Something. The reporter who got herself committed
to the insane asylum just so she could write about it.”

“I can’t believe you’re comparing Jagger to Nellie Bly.”

“Getting into MP was as much of a long shot as pretending to be
crazy. As much of a long shot as airing the footage will be.” Raul’s face
creases with worry. “One that could lead to a whole lot of trouble with nothing
to show.”

“But it’s my choice, isn’t it? You’d go to the cops with Marci
if I back down.”

“Back away, Val, not down. There’s a difference.”

Moment of truth. Whatever I choose changes lives. Good or bad,
I’ll never be able to say I didn’t know what I was doing. Because if there’s one
thing I learned over the last few weeks, watching tubes and machines keep Jagger
alive, is that there are consequences to every choice we make.

* * *

Even though I know I should wait for Omar to boost the
sound, I can’t help going to the outlaw corner during lunch. It’s a carbon copy
of the last time, although the weather is colder. Kids hunch against the wall,
each in their own world. The haters not only hate the rest of the school; they
hate each other, too.

I’m in luck. Liam’s there, hand cupped around the smoke he’s
trying to light. Without looking at anyone, I make my way to the wall. Take a
spot close—but not too close—to him. I get a couple of sideways glances, but
nobody says anything. I desperately want Liam to talk—I want
to
talk to him—but can’t figure out what to say. I
can’t confront him without proof.

I never heard him speak. Last time, all he did was give Jagger
the finger. I’m not sure how they know each other. Maybe he’s a skater. Along
with outlaw, hacker, hater, skater, should double agent be added to the
list?

Liam says something so softly I almost don’t realize he’s
speaking to me. “You’re Voorham’s girlfriend, right?”

“No—well, yeah. I mean I was.”

“He okay?”

“Not really.” I lower my voice. “Do you know anything about it?
What happened in Red Hook?
Please tell me.
I’ll keep
it quiet….”

For several moments, Liam does nothing except finish his smoke.
I don’t say another word. Don’t want to blow it….

He drops the butt at the same time the bell rings. All around
us, kids reluctantly start to move. I grab Liam’s arm. “Wait—”

“Check your tape,” he whispers. “You got more than you think
you do.”

“What does that mean?”

He shakes his head, pulls away. How does Liam know Jagger shot
the initiation? Unless he’s the double agent. The hacker. If he’s good enough to
change a computer’s IP address, who knows what else he can do?