Keaton School 01: Escape Theory (20 page)

“What are you talking about, dude?” Matt kept walking out of the water with his board.

“Are you kidding me?” Bodhi ripped the Velcro off his ankle and dug his board straight down into the wet sand. “You know better than to take my wave. Or do I have to teach you again?”

Matt turned. “Hey, chill. I support you, remember?”

Bodhi laughed, incredulous. “You support me? That’s hilarious. I told him it was a mistake to go into business with you. And from what I hear, he should have listened to me.”

“What are you saying?” Matt didn’t back off.

Devon noticed that both of them were puffing their chests out, and she could see a red patch growing up the back of Matt’s neck spreading to his ears. She crept toward them, careful to not draw attention to herself.

“I’m saying that if you can’t respect me out there, then I know you’re not respecting me up there.” Bodhi pointed to the looming mountains behind them. “We’re done.”

Matt pushed at Bodhi’s chest. “That’s not your call, local.”

Another surfer—shaved head, lots of tattoos—leapt out of the water next to Raven. They both quickly unhooked from their boards, and dropped them on the sand.

“You don’t want to do this, man,” Bodhi said. Now he had backup, but that didn’t seem to faze Matt.

“Oh no, I do. I really do.” Matt unzipped his wetsuit.

Shaved Head moved in front of Bodhi. “You’re lucky we let you surf here this long. Tourist.” Before Devon could process what was happening, the guy took a swing and connected with the side of Matt’s jaw.

Matt stumbled back momentarily, but came back quickly with a hard punch to Shaved Head’s ribcage. Bodhi’s right hand jabbed at Matt and caught him in the eye. Matt reeled back and then prepared to lunge at Bodhi until Raven appeared between them.

“Stop it!” she shrieked. “Seriously, stop. It’s not worth it. This is stupid.” More surfers stood behind Bodhi now. Devon could see their muscles bulging underneath their wetsuits, and they eyed Matt like a dog waiting for a treat. Devon realized she was holding her breath, digging her nails into her palms. Just one word from Bodhi and they’d spring into action.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is over,” Matt said with a hand over his eye.

He turned and took off across the beach with his board, through the parking lot. Devon watched him go. Had he seen her there? She wanted to run after him, help him get back to school, get some ice, but he was already out on the road. This crowd was entirely Monte Vista locals, and Devon was nervous about outing herself as a Keaton student.

She looked down and realized she was wearing a sweatshirt with KEATON blazed across the front in huge letters.
Too late for that
.

The surfers gave Bodhi pats on the back or quick nods before getting back in the water. Bodhi flashed Devon a slight smile, which she took as a sign that it was okay to join their group. Raven was focused on Shaved Head, who had a hand clamped around his rib cage and his eyes squinted in pain. As she stepped closer Devon could hear Raven talking in a small, sweet voice.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Raven said to Shaved Head.

She kissed him on the lips and wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck.

Time stood still on the hot beach as Devon watched them.
So
, she thought,
that’s what an official couple looks like
. Almost like Hutch and Isla had once looked, but even more tender and intimate. Maybe Devon was wrong about everything. Maybe Hutch wasn’t Raven’s type.

Name: Devon Mackintosh

Session Date: Sept. 24

Session #2

Mr. Robins was already writing notes in his notebook when Devon sat down.

“Devon, right on time. Have a seat,” he nodded in the direction of the chair across from his desk. Devon sat down and pulled out her own notebook. Her Mont Blanc pen wasn’t in the pocket she left it in.
Damn, Cleo strikes again!
This game was getting old. Devon reminded herself to get her pen back during Cleo’s next session. “So? How’s it going this week?” He scrunched his nose, pushing his glasses further up.

“Good, I think. I mean, I guess it’s normal counseling stuff, two steps forward, one step back.” She smiled politely and sat up straighter. The more committed and serious she could seem the less he would question her, was the hope.

“Glad to hear it. But, I’ve got to admit, I have some concerns with the work we’re doing.” He folded his hands and leaned on
his desk.
Uh-oh
. “It’s Matt Dolgens. Apparently he’s been skipping a lot of classes the last week or so. I’m thinking I should take over working with him. He might be a little more than you’re ready for.”

Devon arranged a smile on her face, but it felt plastic and crooked. “That’s an interesting idea.” If Matt suddenly had to stop seeing Devon and start seeing an actual faculty member, she’d come off like the enemy he’d been trying to make her out to be. “But, isn’t missing a few classes here and there somewhat expected given what he’s been going through? Hutch was his best friend.”

“We’ve been told that Matt has been seen talking with Bodhi Elliot in Monte Vista lately. I’m not sure if you know him, but Bodhi is an alum with a troubled past. The concern is that if Matt gets in with the wrong element, his behavior could take a turn for the worse. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how vulnerable he is right now.”

Images of Matt and Bodhi—smoking a joint behind the pharmacy, fighting on the beach—flashed through Devon’s mind. Exactly which one of them was the wrong element was difficult to discern. She kept her head down, studying her fingernails.
Next question. Next question
.

“I take it from your silence you know something about this,” Mr. Robins said, leaning back in chair. Devon wanted to tell him to lose the smug grin; he didn’t know a fraction of what he thought he did.

“I’ve met Raven, Bodhi’s sister. As far as I can tell, she’s a smart girl and excited to be at Keaton. I’ve never met Bodhi, so I can’t really say much about him.”

“I’m not at liberty to go into details, but Bodhi didn’t leave Keaton with the best reputation, and we weren’t exactly happy to see him back in Monte Vista.”

“But that doesn’t mean anything about Matt. Maybe they just surf together or something?”

Mr. Robins took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Devon, we’ve got to watch out for peer sympathy getting in the way of you
making informed decisions. That’s an inherit blind spot with this program.”

“But I’m not.…” Devon stopped herself. Getting too defensive right now would only confirm Mr. Robins’ theory. “I understand the concern. It’s just that I feel like Matt is finally starting to trust me, and to open up, and to make some progress in working through his grief. I’d really hate to cut that off now. You mentioned in your training how important it was so establish a good rapport with your subject. Can I try one more session with Matt? See if I can help with this attendance thing?”

Mr. Robins glanced at his watch. He pulled a handful of pages from the back of his notebook. “Fine. But if we see any other red flag behavior from him, I’ll be meeting with Matt personally.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Now, if we could take a minute to review your notes.” He stole a glance at the clock on the wall behind Devon.
What’s he waiting for?
“Everything looks good. You say Matt presented with anger and disbelief about Jason’s suicide, all perfectly normal.” He flipped to the next page. “Isla with feelings of guilt, and Cleo ashamed of her behavior in Monte Vista. Everything sounds good.” He scrunched his glasses up his nose again. “On paper.”

She swallowed, her heart picking up a beat. “Great. Glad you think so.”

“But there’s more than what you’re telling me, isn’t there?”

“What?”
Play dumb. Play dumb
. Devon tried to force herself not to blush.
He knows you’re lying
.

“Matt’s absences indicate that he’s going through more than anger and disbelief. And I think you know what it is.” He let the words hang in the air while Devon’s insides squirmed.

“Really, I’m not sure—”

“Devon, if you and Matt are dating, I need to know about that,” he interrupted. “I realize counseling can often bring people closer together, so if you two have.…” He waited for her to fill in the rest.
Ha! Devon: 1; Mr. Robins: 0! He has no idea
.

“Mr. Robins, that’s not what’s happening. Matt and I, we really don’t see each other outside of our sessions.”

There was a knock on the door. Headmaster Wyler walked into the room without waiting for an answer. “This still a good time?” he asked.

Mr. Robins pulled a chair for the Headmaster. “Yes, glad you could make it.”

What is he doing here?
In his ever-present khakis and sweater vest and perfectly cropped salt-and-pepper hair, Devon wondered if Wyler looked the same as a Keaton student years ago. She pictured a seventeen-year-old version: soccer legend, bio whiz, and sweater vest collector. And now living back at the school he attended three decades ago.
I’ll bet the outside world wasn’t all that kind to the Sweater Vest King
.

“Devon, I’m glad I didn’t miss you,” he said, scooting his chair around to face her.

She nodded and half-stood up from her chair. “Headmaster Wyler. Good morning.”

“Have a seat, please.”

Devon realized both men were now staring at her. This wasn’t an impromptu interruption, was it? They had planned this, whatever
this
was. She braced herself.

“Devon, I wanted to be here along with Mr. Robins to thank you for your hard work serving our student body. Your commitment to this program has not gone unnoticed.”

She breathed a little easier.
Okay, that’s not bad news
. “Thanks. It’s been a good experience so far.”

“Because this program is the first of its kind for Keaton, or for California for that matter, it’s important that we can really quantify our results. After all, if this proves successful for our students, hopefully the state will allow more programs like this in other schools. What this could do for bullying, depression, substance abuse—the possibilities are really inspiring.” Headmaster Wyler used his hands in a practiced, political way.
He must rehearse in front of a mirror,
Devon thought. “Which is why we’re installing a camera in your ‘office.’ ”

Putting her “office” in finger quotes was immediately annoying, a paper-cut kind of annoying. But the video camera was a nearly-slicing-a-finger-off
beyond
annoying. It enraged her. Everything Devon had promised Matt, Isla, and Cleo about protecting their secrets, about creating a safe place, would be ruined. They’d become characters for Mr. Robins and Wyler to take to their School Board meetings: a twisted Show and Tell. She could almost make it work by typing up fake notes for Mr. Robins, but now the evidence would be impossible to deny. Devon felt her neck getting hot. Her palms started to sweat at the thought of Matt being exposed, of Isla’s twitches and ticks and tears being used as textbook material, of Cleo being labeled as a liar.

“I don’t get it. Why do you have to do that?” Devon asked.

“We don’t need to go into all the boring details, but suffice it to say, boarding school students are legally under the guardianship of the school.
In loco parentis
, as they say. Because this is all new and untested thus far, our insurance would prefer if we handled the program this way going forward. I’m sure you understand.” Headmaster Wyler nodded his head at Devon, as if confident she would not push back.

“We’re going to tell them we’re filming the sessions, though, right?” She asked the question in a way that didn’t make it sound like a question, but an assumption.

Headmaster Wyler shot a look at Mr. Robins, who sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat.

“For the moment, we’d like you to say nothing. These sessions are going to be used for research purposes only, so there’s no real need to alert your subjects. Not to mention, we’d hate to tamper with our results by alerting them to the presence of a camera. Getting authentic emotions is imperative. Otherwise, how can we gauge our success levels? You understand, don’t you? It’s for the good of the program.”

“But.…” Both Wyler and Mr. Robins were watching her closely. Devon realized that this wasn’t a discussion. What she thought didn’t matter. The fact that they’d even told her about the cameras was lucky. She could have been filmed this whole time and these two wouldn’t have had the conscience to tell her. But, no … they told her as a warning that they were now watching her as closely as her subjects.

First they’d needed her to sit in that chair and get her peers talking. The scale of power was tipped ever so slightly in Devon’s favor. Wyler and Robins could take away her status in a second, but they knew students would talk to a peer in one way, and an authority figure in another. For all the backlash and attitude she got from Matt, Isla, and Cleo, they
were
still talking to her. The same might not be true if Mr. Robins sat in her chair, and he and Wyler knew it. She had to be smart with her ounce of power.

“Whatever you think is best for the program,” she said with a warm smile.