And so I take a huge breath, and tell him everything. Some he already knows – the pervy Instagram video and me and El showing up at the Dipshits Ball, but then I describe El’s mood switch after the dance and Mike looks troubled.
“Maybe someone said something to him or he saw something, I don’t know, but for those few minutes he was frightened. I mean, genuinely terrified. But El had this amazing self-control, and when I tried to question him about it, he turned the conversation around. I know that sounds weak – I guess you had to be there.”
“I knew Ellis,” Mike assures me. “I can see how that could happen. So you left the dance… What next?”
“We’re driving by the lake. El seems okay again, and then…” I hesitate.
A little omission I can’t bring myself to confess: how you were touching me before the accident; how my stupid insecurities distracted you.
“Something flashed into the road,” I go on. “I don’t know what it was. An animal, probably. El loses control and the car flips.”
Weird, this bullet-point summary. No terror, no grief, nothing between the lines. It’s the only way I can tell it.
“We’re in the lake, and I’m about to pass out when someone wades into the water and drags me out of the car. And this is the whole point: he savesmeand leaves El.”
I explain my reasoning as to why it would have been easier to rescue El first, and that anyway there had to have been time to save us both.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” Mike asks, his voice heavy.
“It’s something El said. When I kept asking about what had frightened him at the dance, he said he didn’t want me mixed up in it. Like maybe it was dangerous. And if itisdangerous, Mike, I’m not sure I want you involved. But, look, I’ve been turning it all over and over in my mind, night after night, and it seems impossible. How do I even start to find out what really happened?”
Mike holds up his hand. “First, you’re an idiot. Youalwayscome to me when you need help, Dylan. And if you think something’s dangerous? You come running.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. Now, what exactly do you want to know?”
“For starters, who made that video of us? Because maybe it’s all connected. The video started this chain of events that led to El’s death. No video, no me coming out, no dance, no distracted El driving. But I also want to know what upset him that night. You should’ve seen him, Mike, I don’t think you’d have recognized him. Last, and most important, I want to know who saved me and why they left El to die.”
Mike takes a breath. “Dylan, I don’t know…”
I look up at him. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“This whole thing.” He hesitates. “This investigation – whatever you want to call it – are you sure it’s what you really want?”
“What Iwant? Jesus, Mike, we’re talking about someone who scared the shit out of my boyfriend. Someone who left him to drown.”
“Okay.” Mike holds up his hands. “But didn’t your doctor say all of this could be survivor’s guilt? You acted on instinct, you got yourself out of the car. No one would ever blame you for that, mate. But this person you imagined saving you? Maybe it’s just your way of dealing with that reality.”
My hands curl into fists and I have to take a moment. “Mike,” I say at last, “I tore my hand to pieces on the belt buckle trying to free myself. It was jammed. I couldn’t do it. I had to be rescued. But here’s the thing: El’s belt had snapped. Saving him would have beenmucheasier than saving me. But he wasn’t saved. He was left. Now, do you believe me when I tell you that’s what happened?”
“Dylan, I just—”
“Do you believe me?Because if you don’t then you’re saying thatIabandoned Ellis. Is that what you think?”
“No.” He looks away. “No, Dylan, of course I don’t think that.”
“Then are you going to help me? Because believe me, Mike, with or without you, I’m going to find out the answers to these questions. I owe Ellis that much.”
We sit in silence for a long time. Eventually Mike stirs.
“Okay, so let’s think this through. Logically, I don’t think these three things are connected. It would be too much of a coincidence that the video perv also happened to be at the lake when you crashed. And I can’t see how the video thing would frighten El at the dance. He knew about it already.”
“And it sort of served his purpose,” I say. “He thought I should come out to my folks and the video was the prompt to do it. Don’t get me wrong, he was angry, but, yeah, that wasn’t what scared him.”
“And again, it would be too much of a coincidence if the person that scared El at the dance was also at the lake. So we’re talking about three separate things: 1. Who is video perv? 2. What scared El at the dance? 3. Who was your rescuer, and what was his deal with El?”
“So you do believe me,” I ask, “about the rescuer?”
