“Well, let me ask this, then,” my father continues. “Is your brother a drug dealer?”
This is a very good question. My instinct is no. But a lot depends on what happened on the field with Josh Wolf.
So I don’t answer. I just stare.
“Josh Wolf says the drugs in his jacket were sold to him by your brother,” my father prods. “Are you saying they weren’t?”
“Did they find any drugs on Owen?” I ask.
“No,” my mother answers.
“And in his locker? Didn’t they search his locker?”
My mother shakes her head.
“And in his room? Did you find any in his room?”
My mother actually looks surprised.
“I know you looked in his room,” I say.
“We haven’t found anything,” my father answers. “Yet. And we also need to take a look in that car. So if you will please give me the keys …”
I am hoping that Owen was smart enough to clear out the car. Either way, it’s not up to me. I hand over the keys.
Unbelievably, they’ve searched my room, too.
“I’m sorry,” my mother says from the hallway, tears in her eyes now. “He thought your brother might have hidden the drugs in here. Without you knowing.”
“It’s fine,” I say, more to get her out of the room than anything else. “I’m just going to clean up now.”
But I’m not quick enough. My phone rings. I hold it so my mom can’t see Owen’s name on the display.
“Hi, Carrie,” I say.
Owen is at least smart enough to keep his voice down so it won’t be overheard.
“Are they mad?” he whispers.
I want to laugh. “What do you think?”
“That bad?”
“They’ve ransacked his room, but they haven’t found anything. They’re looking in his car now!”
“Don’t tell her that!” my mother says. “Get off the phone.”
“Sorry—Mom’s here, and not happy about me talking to you about this. Where are you? Are you at home? Can I call you back?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, he really does have to come home eventually, doesn’t he?”
“Look … meet me in a half hour at the playground, okay?”
“I really have to go. But, yes, I’ll do that.”
I hang up. My mother is still looking at me.
“I’m not the one you’re mad at!” I remind her.
Poor Leslie will have to clean up the mess in her room tomorrow morning—I can’t be bothered to figure out where everything goes. That would take too much accessing, and the priority is finding out which playground Owen means. There’s one at an elementary school about four blocks from the house. I assume that’s the place.
It’s not easy to sneak out of the house. I wait until the three of them return to Owen’s room to tear it apart again, then skulk out the back door. I know this is a risky maneuver—the minute they realize I’m gone, there will be hell to pay. But if Owen comes back with me, that’ll all be forgotten.
I know I should be focusing on the matter at hand, but I can’t help but think of Rhiannon. School’s now over for her, too. Is she hanging out with Justin? If so, is he treating her well? Did anything about yesterday rub off on him?
I hope, but never expect.
Owen’s nowhere to be found, so I head to the swings and hang in the air for a while. Eventually he appears on the sidewalk and heads over to me.
“You always pick that swing,” he says, sitting down on the swing next to mine.
“I do?” I say.
“Yeah.”
I wait for him to say something else. He doesn’t.
“Owen,” I finally say. “What happened?”
He shakes his head. He’s not going to tell me.
I stop swinging and plant my feet on the ground.
“This is stupid, Owen. You have five seconds to tell me what happened, or I’m going to head right back home, and you’ll be on your own for whatever happens next.”
Owen is surprised. “What do you want me to say? Josh Wolf gets me my pot. Today we got into a fight over it—he was saying I owed him, when I didn’t. He started pushing me around, so I pushed him back. And we got caught. He had the drugs, so he said I’d just dealt them to him. Real smooth. I said that was totally wrong, but he’s in all AP classes and everything, so who do you think they’re going to believe?”
He has definitely convinced himself it’s the truth. But whether it started out being the truth or not, I can’t tell.
“Well,” I say, “you have to come home. Dad’s trashed your room, but they haven’t found any drugs yet. And they didn’t find any in your locker, and I’m guessing they didn’t find any in the car, or I would’ve heard about it. So right now, it’s all okay.”
“I’m telling you, there aren’t any drugs. I used the weed up this morning. That’s why I needed more from Josh.”
“Josh, your former best friend.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t been friends with him since we were, like, eight.”
I am sensing that this was the last time Owen had a best friend.
“Let’s go,” I tell him. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Easy for you to say.”
This is a very good question. My instinct is no. But a lot depends on what happened on the field with Josh Wolf.
So I don’t answer. I just stare.
“Josh Wolf says the drugs in his jacket were sold to him by your brother,” my father prods. “Are you saying they weren’t?”
“Did they find any drugs on Owen?” I ask.
“No,” my mother answers.
“And in his locker? Didn’t they search his locker?”
My mother shakes her head.
“And in his room? Did you find any in his room?”
My mother actually looks surprised.
“I know you looked in his room,” I say.
“We haven’t found anything,” my father answers. “Yet. And we also need to take a look in that car. So if you will please give me the keys …”
I am hoping that Owen was smart enough to clear out the car. Either way, it’s not up to me. I hand over the keys.
Unbelievably, they’ve searched my room, too.
“I’m sorry,” my mother says from the hallway, tears in her eyes now. “He thought your brother might have hidden the drugs in here. Without you knowing.”
“It’s fine,” I say, more to get her out of the room than anything else. “I’m just going to clean up now.”
But I’m not quick enough. My phone rings. I hold it so my mom can’t see Owen’s name on the display.
“Hi, Carrie,” I say.
Owen is at least smart enough to keep his voice down so it won’t be overheard.
“Are they mad?” he whispers.
I want to laugh. “What do you think?”
“That bad?”
“They’ve ransacked his room, but they haven’t found anything. They’re looking in his car now!”
“Don’t tell her that!” my mother says. “Get off the phone.”
“Sorry—Mom’s here, and not happy about me talking to you about this. Where are you? Are you at home? Can I call you back?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, he really does have to come home eventually, doesn’t he?”
“Look … meet me in a half hour at the playground, okay?”
“I really have to go. But, yes, I’ll do that.”
I hang up. My mother is still looking at me.
“I’m not the one you’re mad at!” I remind her.
Poor Leslie will have to clean up the mess in her room tomorrow morning—I can’t be bothered to figure out where everything goes. That would take too much accessing, and the priority is finding out which playground Owen means. There’s one at an elementary school about four blocks from the house. I assume that’s the place.
It’s not easy to sneak out of the house. I wait until the three of them return to Owen’s room to tear it apart again, then skulk out the back door. I know this is a risky maneuver—the minute they realize I’m gone, there will be hell to pay. But if Owen comes back with me, that’ll all be forgotten.
I know I should be focusing on the matter at hand, but I can’t help but think of Rhiannon. School’s now over for her, too. Is she hanging out with Justin? If so, is he treating her well? Did anything about yesterday rub off on him?
I hope, but never expect.
Owen’s nowhere to be found, so I head to the swings and hang in the air for a while. Eventually he appears on the sidewalk and heads over to me.
“You always pick that swing,” he says, sitting down on the swing next to mine.
“I do?” I say.
“Yeah.”
I wait for him to say something else. He doesn’t.
“Owen,” I finally say. “What happened?”
He shakes his head. He’s not going to tell me.
I stop swinging and plant my feet on the ground.
“This is stupid, Owen. You have five seconds to tell me what happened, or I’m going to head right back home, and you’ll be on your own for whatever happens next.”
Owen is surprised. “What do you want me to say? Josh Wolf gets me my pot. Today we got into a fight over it—he was saying I owed him, when I didn’t. He started pushing me around, so I pushed him back. And we got caught. He had the drugs, so he said I’d just dealt them to him. Real smooth. I said that was totally wrong, but he’s in all AP classes and everything, so who do you think they’re going to believe?”
He has definitely convinced himself it’s the truth. But whether it started out being the truth or not, I can’t tell.
“Well,” I say, “you have to come home. Dad’s trashed your room, but they haven’t found any drugs yet. And they didn’t find any in your locker, and I’m guessing they didn’t find any in the car, or I would’ve heard about it. So right now, it’s all okay.”
“I’m telling you, there aren’t any drugs. I used the weed up this morning. That’s why I needed more from Josh.”
“Josh, your former best friend.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t been friends with him since we were, like, eight.”
I am sensing that this was the last time Owen had a best friend.
“Let’s go,” I tell him. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Easy for you to say.”
