He laughed. “Not really. Popcorn is God’s food.”
“Did you know Miles hates popcorn?”
“Does he? I think I might have to end our friendship over that. Shame. I was starting to like him.”
He navigated through the house smoothly, without the help of Glitter or the cane he used before getting her back in the fall. The only sign that he couldn’t see was the way he occasionally held out a hand to find the wall he knew was close by. When we reached the back door, he unlocked it with one hand and pulled it open. He’d barely pushed on the screen door before Glitter bolted past him, out into the fenced-in yard, nearly knocking Denny off his feet.
“God, Glitter,” he said, holding back a laugh as he stepped out onto the little wooden deck.
Glitter was already running around the yard in large circles, a tennis ball that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere clutched between her jaws. Even though I’ve seen her like this plenty of times since Denny got her, it’s always startling. She’s so calm, so focused when her harness is on. Denny says it’s like her business suit. When it’s on, she knows it’s time to be professional. But the second it’s off, it’s time to party.
We sat down on the steps, the warm bag of popcorn between us.
“Okay,” he said, carefully popping the tab on his can of soda. “Now that we have our supplies, tell me what’s going on.”
I heard a light tapping sound on the wooden planks and it took a minute to realize it was my foot hitting the bottom step, bouncing with nervous energy. Talking to Denny seemed like the right thing, like I might finally be able to get this off my chest and tell someone who would understand. But now that I was here, with him ready to listen, I felt like I might combust from the anxiety.
“Lee? You okay?”
Spit it out, I told myself.Just say it. It’s time to say it.
“It wasn’t Sarah’s necklace.”
The words came out in a rush, a single, shaking breath.
Denny just sat there for a second, a fistful of popcorn frozen in midair, halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he lowered his hand. “Wait … what?”
My leg wasn’t the only thing shaking now. My hands were, too. I folded them tightly in my lap. “The necklace they found in the bathroom, it wasn’t hers. I don’t know how that rumor got started, but it wasn’t Sarah’s. And she never said anything tohim. Not a word.”
“Are … Sorry, but are you sure?”
“Positive,” I said. “I don’t know what else happened in the bathroom. I don’t know what really happened with Kellie. But the story about Sarah isn’t true.”
“Wow,” Denny said. “That’s … wow.” He shook his head. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Your letter got me thinking,” I said. “About all the misconceptions people have about the shooting. About us. I guess for a long time I thought it was just me—just Sarah’s story that people got wrong. But I don’t think it was. I know it’s different, what you were writing about, but … I don’t know.”
“It is different,” he said. “But I think I get what you’re saying.”
“And then I was thinking about what you said on the anniversary,” I continued. “About how when we graduate, the last people who were really there will be gone. And everyone at VCHS will just be going off of what they heard or saw on the news and … and that’ll become fact. And then the McHales’ book will be coming out …”
“I heard about that,” Denny said. “Have you told them about this? About Sarah?”
“No.” I chewed on my bottom lip, my stomach writhing with guilt. “I almost did. A few years ago. But I … I felt like I would’ve been taking something away from them. Like they really needed to believe the story. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“That’s tough,” he said.
“I know it’s three years too late, but I’ve got to do something. I just keep thinking about Kellie. I don’t know what really went down with her in the bathroom that day, but she was right that the Sarah thing didn’t happen. And you remember what happened to her. I didn’t do anything then and I know I should have. I need to now. I just don’t know who to tell. Or how.”
“You didn’t even tell Detective Jenner?” Denny asked. “When he questioned you after?”
“I hadn’t heard the story yet when I talked to him. I just told him the basics. Thathecame in, that we were in a stall, and that he killed her. When Detective Jenner tried to ask me more, I … I started having a flashback and freaked out, so we cut it short. He probably would have asked me about the necklace if I hadn’t. I don’t know. I screwed this up bad, didn’t I?”
“You were a fourteen-year-old who’d just seen her friend killed. I think you can be forgiven for being a mess afterward.”
I wasn’t sure I could, though. Not when it led to someone else getting hurt.
“Maybe Detective Jenner is a good place to start,” he suggested. “No matter what you decide to do next, he should know.”
