Out of the Ashes (13 page)

Well, it was a girl who had called Mr. Taylor and told the story that sent him to the hospital just before the fire was started at his place. That seemed to prove that the culprit in Little River was female.

Or did it? What if it was a guy and he'd had a girl make the call? Or what if he'd disguised his voice? Considering the alarming nature of the phone call, Mr. Taylor might have been fooled quite easily.

The statistics suggested a boy was just as likely to be guilty as a girl. Sighing, I took out a fresh sheet of paper and made another list, this time writing down all the
boys I could think of. By the time I'd finished I had over a hundred names altogether. The task seemed more daunting than ever.

One thing had become very clear to me as I'd worked my way through Mr. Taylor's book: the question of
who
was setting fires in Little River had suddenly become far less important than
why
he or she was doing it.

If someone was burning places for the sake of destruction, you know, out of meanness, it would have been one thing. But from what I had read, this person was doing it for different reasons altogether. The fire starter was hurting inside, and hurting bad.

There are about four hundred students at Little River High, and I had only been able to think of a quarter of them. I was just thinking that the whole thing was hopeless when the phone rang. It was Betts.

“Shelby, get your skates and meet me at my place!”

I laughed at the familiar way she launched into a conversation without saying hello or anything first. When Betts is excited, she doesn't waste time on small talk.

“What's up?” I asked.

“We're all going to the Green Pond. They cleared the ice this morning and it's perfect. Hurry!”

The Green Pond sits near some residential properties on the edge of town and has been a popular place for skating ever since I can remember. The water is so still that it freezes as smooth as any rink. A few years back the
town set up dusk-to-dawn lights there so that we could use it in the evenings. This would be the first skating party there this year, and I rarely miss one. I decided to go, hoping that no one had thought to invite Greg. It was the last chance I had to hang out with friends before he spread the news about my accusation.

When Betts and I got there about half an hour later I was relieved to see that Greg was not among the gathered crowd. The air was crisp and clear, the way it usually is after a recent snowfall, and the stars looked like distant snowflakes sparkling in the sky. The whole scene was lovely, and I almost wished I was there alone. All the shouts and laughter detracted from the still beauty of the place. But it was more than that.

After all my reading and list-making earlier in the day, I found it impossible to look at the skaters without thinking about the statistics I'd just learned. As friends flew past me, whizzing along the ice, I couldn't help looking at their faces and wondering.

One in four girls and close to the same percentage of boys. How many of these seemingly happy skaters carried dark secrets? I found myself picturing those around me crouched beside a building setting a fire. Some of the mental images almost made me laugh, they were so ridiculous.

But others were not nearly so funny. I found it strange how easy it was to picture some of the kids with lighters in hand, their faces intense. It was scary.

There was Laurie, a girl in the eleventh grade, gliding along the ice in her sad, quiet way. Or Meredith, with her boyish clothes and typical tough act. Jane's pouting face and angry eyes flew past, while Annie circled slowly with her vacant smile. It seemed to be hiding pain a lot of the time. And Kelsey. What might be hidden behind her defiant and haughty face?

For some reason I found it harder to imagine the boys as victims, even though statistics proved they were just as likely to have been abused. Like the ultra macho Nick, skating alone as he usually did because none of the girls could keep up with him. Then there was Todd, at Annie's side most of the evening, until he joined Nick in building a bonfire at the pond's edge. Though this was something we always did, the sight of the flames sent shivers through me.

Graham was nowhere to be seen, and it was obvious that Betts was disappointed he hadn't made an appearance. I shuddered, suddenly remembering him at the dance mimicking a girl's voice.

When we gathered around the bonfire to roast the marshmallows several of the kids had brought, I felt almost sick to my stomach. The flames danced, reflected in the eyes of those circling the fire. I couldn't help but think that one of the group gathered there might have watched other fires burn. What would go through a person's mind at such a time?

By the end of the evening, I found that I'd been able to picture over a dozen of the kids who were present in the role of fire setter without any problem at all.

Now, I knew that just because I could envision someone doing it, it didn't mean they were really capable of burning down buildings. And I knew, after yesterday's fiasco, that my instincts weren't always great.

But I was getting more and more interested in the whole thing, and something inside me didn't want to let it go. Besides, maybe if I figured out who was responsible, I could redeem myself from the embarrassing incident with Greg.

There was a chapter in the book that talked about common indicators of sexual abuse. When I got home I wrote them down so that I could consider each of them with the students on my list later on. It would take too long right now, and I was getting tired from thinking so much.

I stuck a marker in place and closed the book. Before I got into bed, I looked at the names on my lists again and pictured the faces of each person written there.

One of them might be the guilty person all right, but I didn't want to figure out who it was in order to see him or her exposed and punished. Whoever was responsible for the fires needed help!

“Don't you think Derek Browning is yummy?”

“Derek? I guess he's all right. Why?”

“Why? What do you mean, why?” Betts' face was indignant as she looked at me from across the lunch table. “Do I have to have a reason for every little thing I say?”

“No, but you usually
do
have a reason, and when it's about some guy or other, it's usually because you like him.” Seeing her smile I added, “C'mon Betts, out with it.”

“Well, he is pretty deelish, I have to admit.” Betts likes to say deelish instead of delicious.

“What happened to your plan to get Graham back?” As I spoke I saw Greg walk into the cafeteria and seat himself with a bunch of kids from his class. I braced myself for the hoots of laughter and stares
that would be coming once he told them about what I'd done.

“Graham is after Jane now.” A hint of something bordering on anger flashed across her face and then was gone. “And she can have him for all I care.”

“How do you know he's after Jane?”

“Because he's all over her, there on the other side of the room.”

I looked in the direction she'd nodded at, and sure enough Graham was sitting with his chair pulled up as close as he could get it, laughing and talking to Jane.

“That doesn't mean she's interested in him,” I pointed out.

“Well, she might as well be. I'd say that the two of them are perfectly suited to each other, seeing as how they're both snobs. Why, would you believe that Jane came to school this morning with a new winter jacket? She just got one at Christmas and now she has another one.”

“Maybe there was a sale.”

“No, wait, I'm not finished telling you this! I heard Holly saying how she loves Jane's new coat this morning at the lockers. So Jane tells her thanks, she hated the one she got at Christmas, and Holly says, but Jane, you picked that out yourself, I thought you loved it. And Jane says she hates it now.”

“Breathe, Betts!” I laughed.

“Stop interrupting. You won't
believe
the next part. Then Holly asks Jane if she can have the other coat, the one she got at Christmas, since Jane hates it anyway. And what do you think Jane says to her?”

“I'd have to guess that she either said yes or no.”

“Nope. She says, sorry, she threw it out. A practically brand new jacket, and she threw it out. Now that's snobbery! Which, as I said earlier, makes her perfect for Graham.”

“Yeah, well it's pretty obvious that Jane wants Nick back, so Graham is probably wasting his time.”

“Well, good luck to her then, because Nick likes someone else now.”

“Kelsey?”

“No, not her. What would make you say that? She chases him all over the place, but he's not interested.”

“It's odd that they were together at The Scream Machine on Saturday then.”

“She probably cornered him and dragged him in. I know for a fact he likes someone else.”

“Whatever.” I didn't want to hear who it was, even though I was trying hard not to care about Nick.

“Whatever? I'd have thought you'd be more interested, seeing as how you used to have a big crush on Nick.”

“That was a long time ago,” I lied.

“Too bad then, because it's you.”

“What's me?”

“It's you that Nick likes, what do you think?” Betts looked exasperated at my failure to grasp her meaning right away. I suppose my slow uptake had sort of robbed her of the reaction she'd hoped for in making the announcement.

I'd been waiting nervously for the onslaught of jeers and snickers that I knew would soon be headed in my direction. So far there'd been nothing, but the story was bound to spread fast once it hit. Betts' statement broke through those thoughts and sent a different kind of shiver through me from the one I'd been waiting for.

“Where did you ever get such a silly idea?” I finally asked.

“From Nick himself.”

I did my best to look as though I wasn't overly interested in what she was saying, but couldn't help asking, “Why, what did he say to you?”

“He said that he thought you deserved a chance.”

“That I
deserved
a chance? What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know, like he's thinking about giving you a shot as his girlfriend.”

“Did he say that too? That he's going to
give me a shot
?”

“Yeah. You don't look very excited,” she frowned. “What's the matter with you anyway? Nick is
such
a stud!”

“Well, the things he said to you are not exactly flattering, Betts.”

“Why not?”

“Because it sounds like he's, you know, granting me a big favour or something. Like he's stooping to give me this huge opportunity to be
his
girlfriend.”

“I thought you'd be pleased. I know you're not gone on him like you used to be, but he's still a pretty big catch around here.”

“I'd kind of like to go out with someone who thought
I
was a big catch too, Betts.”

“Then you might as well give in and go out with Greg Taylor. You know he's mad for you. I mean, if you're looking for someone to idolize you like that, he's the one. Nick doesn't have to go crawling to girls that way. He can have anyone he wants.”

“Well, he can't have me,” I was surprised to find myself saying. I might have a change of heart later, but at the moment I meant it, and it made me feel proud. “So he might as well not waste his time asking.”

“Get out of here! You would
seriously
turn down Nick Jarvis?” Betts giggled at the thought. “Boy, I'd like to be watching when that happened. I don't think anyone has ever said no to him.”

“He probably won't even ask me out,” I said, thinking of how he'd react to the news of my detective work. It was strange that no one was talking and pointing yet.
Greg must be stretching the story out, building it up to the big finish. Or maybe he was biding his time, making me sweat.

“Oh, I think he's going to ask you all right,” Betts sounded positive. “From what he said to me, he's planning to make his move pretty soon.”

I thought of Annie's face, the hurt and embarrassment on it when Nick and Kelsey were laughing at her on Saturday. It was one of the meanest things I'd ever witnessed. Suddenly I hoped with all my heart that he
would
ask me out just so that I could turn him down flat. For Annie.

Then I thought of how he'd sucked me into doing his essay and how stupid I'd been to spend the whole evening alone at his house doing his schoolwork. Other things came to mind, things I'd dismissed because he was such a package. When I looked honestly at what I knew about him, I had to admit that Nick was not exactly a nice person. He was conceited and arrogant and very careless with other people's feelings.

So, just like that, I let it go. All the years of dreaming of the day that he'd ask me out dissolved in that moment. Now that it seemed it was actually about to happen, I knew with absolute certainty that I would never go out with Nick Jarvis.

Lunch hour ended and the afternoon classes passed without me hearing a single snide remark about my inept sleuthing. I caught glimpses of Greg a few times, but he never once looked in my direction. It was almost as if he was aware of my presence and determined not to take any notice of me.

By the final bell, I was pretty much a basket case. It's like when you're young, and you know you've done something wrong, and you're waiting for your parents to find out. I remember once I knocked over my mom's jewellery box, and the mirror inside the lid came off and broke into little bits all over the floor. I gathered them up and hid them in the kitchen garbage, but I knew that the next time she opened that box I was busted.

The thing was, I didn't know how
often
she got jewellery out. Mom isn't the fancy type, and she mostly uses
that kind of stuff for special occasions. So I was waiting and waiting to be found out. It seemed like months passed, and sometimes I'd forget all about it, but then I'd be in her room and see it sitting there on top of her dresser and I'd be reminded. Every time, I got this sick feeling in my stomach, until it finally got to the point that I just wished she'd find out what I'd done and get it over with.