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The blare of the phone ringing startles me out of sleep. I spring up to a seated position. For a few
confused moments, I think maybe last night was just a horrible nightmare. I look over at Drea's
empty bed. My first thought is that she's in class, that I slept through the alarm clock and missed
first period. But then it dawns on me that it's Saturday, four lilies later.
Drea's day to die.
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"Hello?"
"Stacey, hi, it's me, Chad. How are you?"
"How do you think?"
"Well, how are you feeling, at least?"
"Like I told the police last night, I'm fine. It was more of a shock than anything else."
I close my eyes and try to paste the pieces of last night together in my mind. I remember passing
out, being walked to a police car, and all the flashing lights. The smell of eucalyptus and lemon
oils stuffed up my nose. Voices trying to talk to me, asking me if I was okay. "Yes, fine," I
assured them.
"Do you want to call home?" they asked. "Do you need a doctor?"
"No. I just want to go back to the dorm and sleep."
I remember being hysterical--crying, then laughing, and crying again. How someone, a school
nurse maybe, told the police I needed to get some rest. And then how the police said they were
going to keep an eye on me and talk to me in the morning. This morning. Even though it's
already after eleven.
But most of all, I remember Veronica, lying dead in the classroom, her haunting green eyes
staring up at me, disappointed.
"They think I did it," Chad said. "They think I killed her."
"What are you talking about?"
"When I came into the classroom, I saw Veronica and I saw you, and I knew you had fainted. So
I tried to help you, but then it occurred to me that maybe I should go to the
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window, you know, to see if I could see anything, catch whoever did it. And then the police
came in and saw me and thought I was trying to escape. And then they saw you, just lying there.
And Veronica. . . they thought right away that I did it. They asked me what happened. I started
telling them, you know, how I saw you guys helping Drea, and then how I followed you into the
school. Then they stopped me and read me my rights. They made me call my parents."
"What did your parents say?"
"They told me to cooperate, to just tell them everything. So I did. The police questioned me for
over an hour. First one guy, then this lady. Then back and forth. My parents ended up getting a
flight here first thing this morning. They're pissed. They're hiring a lawyer."
I think I hear a slight whimper in his voice, where his breath can't quite catch up to the words.
"I gotta go," he says. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Chad?"
"Just tell me you don't think I'm guilty, Stace. I really need someone to believe me right now"
I don't say anything right away; I just listen to his breath on the other end. "I do believe you," I
say, finally, quickly, not knowing if I really do. The phone makes a clicking sound on the other
end. "Chad?" But he's already hung up and I have no idea if he even heard me.
I'm just about to call him back when I notice Amber's teddy-bear backpack sitting on the floor
beside my bed. The police must have thought it was mine. I pick it up and
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unzip the belly Donovan's mini-sketchbook sits at the top. I pull it out and stuff it into the inside
pocket of my jacket, wondering if he's still with Drea at the hospital, if I'll see him there. Then I
pluck out Amber's cell phone, still dead, and plug the charger into the outlet behind my bed.
I grab the phone to call Drea at the hospital, but hear a jingling sound outside the door. Maybe
that's her now. I creep toward the edge of the bed, noticing that the crack of hallway-light at the
bottom of the door has been blocked-- like someone's standing there.
I place the phone back down on its cradle and get up slowly, watching the dark shadows play at
the bottom of the door. From the center of the room, I wait several seconds for a knock or for
someone to enter. When neither happens, I yank the baseball bat from the corner and, in one
quick motion, whip the door open.
Freaking Amber. She's scribbling a note on the message board attached to the door.
"What is wrong with you?" I say. "You scared the crap out of me.-
"Some good morning," she says, inviting herself in. "I guess I don't need to ask how you're
doing." Amber closes the door behind her. "I heard about what happened. I can't believe
Veronica's dead."
"Believe it. Because it's true."
"I know," she says, fingering along the windowsill, staring out toward the lawn. "It's just that . . .
that wasn't supposed to happen, you know?"
I reach into the spell drawer for my bottle of lavender, hoping the floral scent will help soothe
my spirit.
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"I heard they're canceling classes for next week," Amber says. "There's supposed to be some
assembly about it later, but everybody's leaving for the weekend." She watches me dab
fingerprints of the oil behind my ears. 'Are you all right? You seem a bit distracted."
"How do you think I am? Veronica Leeman was lying dead in front of me just a few hours ago
and you have as much remorse about it as a chipped pedicure."
-Why should I have remorse? I didn't do it. I mean, yeah, I feel bad--I may not have liked her,
but I didn't want her to die.
I cap the bottle and pop it back inside the drawer. There's really no sense pursuing this topic any
further with her because if I do, I may very well go ballistic and today, of all days, I need to
remain calm. Strength comes with mindfulness.
"Did Drea spend the night at the hospital?" I ask finally. "What are you talking about? Isn't she
with you?" "Why would she be with me?"
-I dropped her off here last night. After the hospital." "What do you mean, you dropped her off?"
"Yeah, after she called her parents and got checked out, I called PJ to come and pick us up. He
did and we dropped her off here."
I look at Drea's bed, the covers still very much intact.
"You couldn't have. She didn't come home last night." "I think I'd know if we dropped her off or
not." "Who's 'we'?"
"I told you. Me and Pr
"What happened to Donovan?"
)3
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"He took a cab back. PJ got all piss-jealous of Donovan, saying I was hanging all over him,
which I wasn't. So, then, Donovan had to take a cab back because PJ didn't want him in his car."
"So what about Drea? What happened when you dropped her off?"
"Yeah, so we drove back to campus, and I told PJ to wait in the car for me while I walked Drea
into the lobby. I needed some time alone with him, to tell him off. He can't keep thinking of me
as his juice."
"So you never actually walked Drea up here?"
"No."
Our eyes lock. Regardless of what roles Amber and I play in this whole ordeal, we both know
that this means--today is Drea's day to die and she's already missing.
There's a knock at the door. "Ms. Brown?" says the female voice from the hallway
Amber and I look at the door, then at each other. "Piglets," Amber whispers. "I refuse to talk to
them. We don't have to, you know. We're minors." She snatches her teddy-bear backpack from
my bed and heads to the window
-Wait!" I hiss. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Leaving. If you're smart you'll do the same.- Amber opens the window and straddles one leg
over the sill.
'Are you crazy?" I grab at her arm. "You can't leave now. You need to tell them about last night.
About Drea. Remember? Drea?"
Amber hesitates a moment, but then pulls her arm away. "I can't. Talking to police totally freaks
me out, Stace. They make you feel guilty"
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"Not if you're innocent."
She looks away. "Call me as soon as she leaves. Don't worry, Stace. We'll get to the bottom of
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