Echo Bridge (12 page)

“Molly said you apologized for warning her away from Hugh,” Elaine said. I could hear the question in her voice:
why?

“You asked me to look out for her,” I said. “I thought that would be easier if we were friendly.”

Elaine sighed. “That’s a good idea. I can’t pretend I like Hugh, though. We’re still fighting about it. She refused to do the whole picture-posing thing with Marshall and me tonight. My mom was disappointed.”

“Can I ask why you hate Hugh so much?” I asked.

Elaine very deliberately pulled another cigarette out of her purse without looking at me. “He’s a jerk,” she said simply. “Hey, come here, check this out.”

I followed her a few steps down the rise along the wall, and she lifted a few strands of ivy, exposing a small window. We had a clear view of a single bathroom—of the sink and mirror, but thankfully not the toilet.

“Just wait,” said Elaine, but we didn’t have to wait long. Marian Hayward stepped into the bathroom, and we stepped back a bit so she wouldn’t see us if she looked out the window. “Don’t worry,” Elaine whispered. “No one’s caught me yet.” Marian stepped out of view, presumably to the toilet, and then reappeared to wash her hands. She adjusted her strapless bra, and then began violently dusting her eyelids, cheeks, and collarbone with more glitter powder. I laughed quietly. It was just so Marian—exactly what you’d expect her to do in the bathroom at a dance.

Elaine and I watched a few more of our classmates and their private rituals. Guys sniffed their armpits and girls tried to see their asses in the mirror, checking for panty lines. Jake Hobart scooped cocaine out of a tiny bag with his car key. We had to cover our mouths to keep from laughing too loudly while watching Aaron Winthrop, who was our top squash player, a lock for valedictorian, and notoriously tightly wound. He was also universally loathed for having put a Yale sticker on his Grand Cherokee, even though the early decision deadline was more than a month off. In the mirror, he beat his short dark hair into place with startling concentration, and for much longer than I’d ever imagined a boy would spend on his hair.

Farah entered the bathroom and I bit the inside of my cheek, but all she did was stand up on her tiptoes to get close to the mirror and arrange her short, choppy black hair with her fingers. Horse Riley followed, and Elaine stepped further back.

“Aw, Horse,” she said. “He’s so sweet. I don’t know if I want to see him do anything embarrassing.”

Neither of us looked away, but we were rewarded when Horse rinsed his hands, looked in the mirror, shot himself finger guns, and did a little shimmy before bopping back out the door. “Awesome!” breathed Elaine. We were bent over laughing as quietly as possible when the next person walked into the bathroom, but we both immediately stopped and stood up. It was Hugh. He slipped a pint of Jack Daniels from inside his suit and swigged. I drew in a breath. That one sip could be the action that put everything in motion.

“I’m going in,” Elaine said abruptly. “Marshall’s going to wonder where I am. Do you want some Scope and Altoids? I’ve got perfume, too.”

* * *

Inside, smelling like Elaine’s Clinique Happy perfume, I found Ted standing with Benji and Lindsay under a huge potted palm. Everyone else was scattered across the room, whispering in corners or paired up on the dance floor. Elaine and Marshall, Jake and Selena, Hilary and Gavin, Melissa and Will. Farah was dancing with Horse. And then there was Molly and Hugh. She was gazing up at him with her whole face aglow. My stomach twisted.

“There you are,” said Ted. “Want to dance?” I took his hand and pulled him out among the swaying couples.

I leaned against Ted the way I had a million times before, my arms locked around his neck, feeling the solid, comforting bulk of him with my whole body. His big hands wrapped around my waist.

“You really look incredible tonight, Courtney,” he breathed into my hair. “Sometimes I don’t know what a girl like you sees in me.”

“Don’t be silly,” I told him. “You’re the sexiest guy here.” Over his shoulder, I glimpsed Lexi among the ferns. She was the only person at the dance without a date. Not that she didn’t look great—totally Edie Sedgwick with black tights, short dress, and chandelier earrings. It was just like Lexi to come alone. “And,” I said to Ted, rubbing his arm with my eyes still on Lexi. “You scored three goals against Green Hill Prep today. You’re a Rivalry Revelry hero.”

Lexi stood perfectly still, watching the couples pressed together on the dance floor. I couldn’t tell if she saw me until her left eyelid dropped in a single, perfect wink. The rest of her face didn’t stir. Then she turned and was gone.

“Don’t tease me.” Ted’s lips brushed my cheek. “I know you don’t care about that stuff.”

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you, Ted Parker.”

“Good.” He bent his head and kissed me, one of those long, intense kisses that makes the whole world drop away. “I can’t wait to get you all to myself later.”

Any nerves about having sex with Ted that might have flared up at that moment were chased away by a shriek from the far side of the dance floor. Ted and I both turned toward the sound.

Across the room, Hugh Marsden sat in his suit on the tiled floor, eating handfuls of dirt from a large potted African violet. Molly Winslow stood next to him with a look of terror on her face. There were streaks of dirt on her cheeks, and when Hugh reached out one finger as if to draw another on her dress, she hopped backwards. He giggled and drooled mud down his chin.

“What the hell?”

All the couples on the floor had stopped dancing and were staring at Hugh and Molly. A guitar solo poured from the sound system. Suits and dresses shifted in discomfort all around us.

“Hugh.” Ted said, loud and sharp, as he cut through the crowd, squatting down next to Hugh and resting his elbows on his knees. “You take something, dude?”

“Lemur,” said Hugh. His eyes were huge and black. “Lemurrrrrrrrrrr.” He reached up to finger the starry white lights on a low-hanging branch.

“Hugh, look at me,” Ted shook him. “Hugh!”

“Lemurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“Yeah, guy,” Ted muttered to himself. He snapped his fingers in Hugh’s face, but Hugh didn’t flinch.

Ted looked up at the gathering crowd. “Who has a cell phone? Somebody call an ambulance.
Now
.” He knelt and carefully drew Hugh’s hand out of the pot of dirt.

Headmaster Farnsworth and Coach Jessup appeared, briskly nudging students out of the way.

“What happened?”

“The ambulance is on its way,” said Horse as he slid his iPhone back into his pocket.

“Was there an accident?” Farnsworth looked up at the ceiling, as if checking for falling debris, and then leaned over to inspect Hugh’s head for wounds. Hugh, denied his dirt, was now chewing on his pink striped tie.

“Parker, what’d he take?” Farnsworth snapped.

“I honestly don’t know, sir.” Ted’s face, which had been stern and stoic up to that moment, suddenly broke into worry. “I wish I did.”

Coach Jessup was on the floor, trying to keep Hugh from rolling around. “Coacccchhhhhhsssssshhhhhhhhhhh,” said Hugh, pawing the air. The empty pint of Jack Daniels dropped out of his jacket pocket. Farnsworth picked it up and snorted out a big, angry breath.

Lexi’s plan had worked.

“Come on,” said Ted. “We’re going to the hospital.”

Ted drove like a maniac. I had never seen him so upset—he seemed almost scared. He was silent on the ride to the hospital. I focused on getting into character: the worried but supportive girlfriend. I groped for inspiration in my mental archives but found they’d been erased by fear. I couldn’t give anything away, but I felt like there was no air in the car, my guilt filling it like gas. In the driver’s seat, Ted’s face was hard and grim. He stomped on the brakes for a red light, and they squealed as we lurched forward inside the Rover. Worried and supportive, I thought. I reached out and touched his right arm.

“Ted,” I said softly. I had an irrational fear that he would shake me off, as if he might somehow know that I had had something to do with all of this.

Instead, he lifted his left hand from the wheel and covered mine with it. “I just don’t understand what happened,” he said. “Why would he get wasted at school? Why not wait until the afterparty?” Ted closed his eyes, shook his head, and squeezed my hand. “And what the hell is he on?”

“I don’t know. Acid maybe?” I said. “Special K? That thing from the ABC Afterschool Special where Helen Hunt jumps out the window?”

“Jesus, Courtney, do you have to do your ‘encyclopedia of American cinema’ thing right now?” Ted dropped my hand in disgust and gunned the engine as the light turned green.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I mean, I don’t know a lot about hard drugs, so I just…”

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Ted said more calmly, rubbing his forehead. “I’m just freaked out.”

“I know. Me, too.” I took his hand again.

It was easier than I thought it would be to act worried. Hugh would be fine—probably, anyway—but I was genuinely upset to see the pain this was causing Ted. I wished there were some way to show him what a monster his best friend was without breaking his heart. But I didn’t know how to tell Ted, let alone make him believe, what Hugh had done to me, to Lexi, to Farah. At that moment, all I could think about was how he would hate himself when he found out the truth, for not seeing Hugh for what he was. If you found out your best friend, who’d always had your back, whom you’d spent every single day with for years, was a criminal—the sociopathic kind, not the pot-smoking kind—how could you not question yourself? What was wrong with you? Why didn’t you see it? And what was it about you that had attracted such a person?

“This is just really bizarre,” Ted said, hitting the gas to slide through a yellow light.

He gripped my hand as we walked through the automatic doors into the emergency room. Coach Jessup had ridden in the ambulance with Hugh, and when we saw him sitting next to a large potted plant (far less exotic or charming than the ferns in the conservatory we’d just left), I tensed up. Ted thought I was giving his hand a comforting squeeze and returned it. I swallowed hard; my mouth felt very dry. He’s no different from any audience, I told myself.

“Coach.” Ted dropped my hand put his out to shake Coach Jessup’s. “What’s the news?”

Coach Jessup was sitting in a molded plastic chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands folded in front of him. He’d probably been big and solid like Hugh, once, but now he was doughy and sagging and had an unfortunate comb-over. He studied Ted, glanced at me, and looked back at Ted. I could tell he was trying to gauge what to tell us. Ted wasn’t on the hockey team, so he and Jessup didn’t have much rapport, and I wasn’t sure the coach even knew who I was.

“Hugh has been sedated,” he finally said. “They’re running tests. His parents and the headmaster are on their way.”

“Can we see him?” Ted asked.

The automatic doors slid open behind us, and the Marsdens and Farnsworth burst through them. I drew a breath. I was afraid if anyone asked me directly what had happened, I might crack.

“Where’s the doctor?” demanded Mr. Marsden. “What happened to my son?”

“I’ll get someone out here,” said Farnsworth. His long wool coat flapped as he hurried to the nurses’ station.

Coach Jessup obviously knew the Marsdens quite well; he took Mrs. Marsden’s hands in his own. “They seem to think he’ll be all right, Pamela,” he said.

“Thank God you were there, David,” she answered. Her eyes fell on Ted, and then me, standing a few steps behind the coach. Hugh’s mother was beautiful, tall and coolly blond like Kim Novak in
Vertigo
. Her gaze was sharp, though, and I actually shivered as she took us in and dropped Coach Jessup’s hands. “Edward, what can you tell us about all this? The headmaster implied Hugh might have…taken something.” She winced as if the idea caused her pain. She glanced at me on the last syllable, including me in the question. Think Oscar, I told myself. Emmy. Tony. Independent Spirit. SAG Award. My life depended on this performance.

“If he did, Mrs. Marsden, I honestly don’t know anything about it.” Ted stepped forward, his hands gripped together in front of him.

“That’s bullshit,” said Mr. Marsden. He was an imposing man, a few inches taller than Ted and a full head over Coach Jessup. He had wide shoulders but appeared more chiseled than his son. His hair was thick and dark, his eyes like steel: Pierce Brosnan as Thomas Crown. “If anyone knows what Hugh took, it’s you, Parker.”

“I swear—” Ted had adopted a pleading tone, but he was interrupted by Farnsworth, returning to the group with a young doctor who had soap opera cheekbones and the standard white coat.

“Mr. and Mrs. Marsden,” he said smoothly. “If you come with me, I can update you on your son’s condition and take you to see him.”

“I expect to hear your account of events later,” Mr. Marsden said to Ted. He took his wife’s arm. “Tell me, doctor, will there be any permanent damage?” The three of them walked away through a set of swinging doors.

The headmaster exhaled loudly and seemed to see Ted and me for the first time. “Parker. Go home. I have enough on my plate without being responsible for students running around the hospital.”

Ted opened his mouth to protest. “But sir—”

“I don’t think they’re going to let anyone in except his parents tonight,” said Coach Jessup more kindly. “Why don’t you take your date home and get some rest? I’ll make sure Hugh knows you were here.”

I was so relieved I thought I might collapse.

Ted nodded. “All right,” he said. “Please make sure he knows I came, and that if he’s still here tomorrow, I’ll be back.” He wrapped an arm around me. “Come on, Court.”

* * *

In the car, I didn’t realize Ted wasn’t taking me home until we were nearly to his house.

“Didn’t you want to drop me off?” I asked.

“I thought you were spending the night.”

In all of the drama at Revelry, I had forgotten entirely about our romantic evening. And I’d been so relieved to escape the hospital, the headmaster, and Hugh’s parents that it hadn’t occurred to me to be nervous. I tried to give myself a one-line mental pep talk: Okay, Courtney, you’ve got to get back on the horse sometime. I snorted to myself over the accidentally dirty metaphor.