Strange Lies Page 20

  People like Benny Flax.

  The girls’ bathroom, 9:00 a.m.

  Benny’s reflection surprised himself. He looked about thirty years old. There were dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t slept well since Saturday, and this morning he’d gotten up at 5:30 a.m. to be at school the second Rick the janitor opened the administrative annex. While Mrs. Jewel’s secretary was making coffee in the lounge, he’d snuck into the office to log into the admin software. He was hoping to resolve the remaining Mystery Club cases as quickly as possible so he could concentrate on studying. Usually Benny skated on 90 to 95 percent grades, but right now that wasn’t good enough. Right now he needed to be perfect.

  Except things weren’t going perfectly. Mrs. Jewel’s computer was different from the last principal’s, and it was password-protected. Benny had made some guesses, including “hillaryclinton,” but nothing worked. So that had been a bust.

  Next he’d gone to the library to look up unsolved homicides and missing persons reports for black men of slim build on the Georgia Bureau of Investigation website. But none of the dates matched the midnight golf game closely enough for any of the victims to plausibly be the nameless caddie.

  So now Benny was in the girls’ room, hoping he could at least wrap up the identity of the mysterious drug dealer. This case had involved way too many trips into the girls’ bathroom. But he couldn’t ask Virginia to do it with only one arm in working condition.

  The room was brighter than it had been the last time. Benny looked up. The missing fluorescent bulb had been returned to the light in the ceiling. Benny jumped onto the sink excitedly. If the bulb was back, it meant someone had come to retrieve the X10 controller wired into the fixture. And as long as they hadn’t spotted the small camera in the crevice of the ceiling, in five seconds Benny would know who the drug dealer was.

  “Oh my god! What are you doing in here?”

  Benny jumped, almost falling off the sink. A girl was standing in the doorway, looking at him like he was an escaped mental patient. It was a girl he recognized from the Boarders, Lindsay something.

  “I’m—I’m assisting Rick with some electrical issues.” Benny stealthily grabbed the camera and popped the plastic light covering back into the ceiling.

  “Are you, like, an assistant janitor?” Lindsay said, a smirk forming on her face.

  Oh my god, Benny thought. This was going to be one of those things that followed him to his grave. It wasn’t enough to be Scooby-Doo; from now on he would also be known as a janitor’s apprentice. Benny sighed. There was nothing to do but go along with it.

  “Yep,” he said, hopping off the sink. “But it’s all taken care of now. Enjoy your . . . bathroom time.”

  “Whatever, Janitor Junior,” Lindsay said, barely suppressing her grin.

  Benny squeezed past her and left. He found a secluded spot in the hallway and sat down. He turned on the camera. The icon showed that there were two photos on the memory card. The first shot was of a hand: an abnormally long, pale hand with bony fingers. Benny felt a surge of validation.

  I knew you had something to do with this!

  The second photo showed Calvin’s face. He was looking directly at the camera and smiling slightly. There was a small piece of paper in his hand with two words written on it:

  Hi Benny

  The cafeteria, 12:30 p.m.

  One great thing about her ugly black cast was that at least no one was trying to sign it. Virginia really didn’t need to stare at a bunch of Neil Young quotes and Bible verses and doodles of hearts for two months. Maybe Calvin would paint one of his poems on it in Wite-Out. Virginia scanned the cafeteria for him. He was a pretty easy person to spot, but she didn’t see him anywhere.

  Everyone was talking about Trevor’s party and how Benny Flax had jumped out a window when the cops showed up. Except the story had ballooned from Benny simply stepping out of a first-floor window to Benny making a death-defying leap through a third-floor window like James Bond. It made Virginia feel jealous. She was the one with the broken arm. She was the one who’d almost been killed by Big Gabe’s huge yellow Hummer. But no one was talking about that.

  “Is this Scooby’s table?”

  Virginia turned around. Winn Davis was standing behind her, looking tired and confused.

  “I guess so. . . .” Virginia was pretty sure Benny didn’t believe in cafeteria territory. But it was the place he usually sat.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Benny said, appearing out of nowhere and sitting down with a tray piled with textbooks and a sandwich. He gestured to the chair across from Virginia. “Winn, please sit down.”

  Winn plunked down and sunk his teeth into a chicken wing. Winn was less overtly Neanderthal-ish than some of his friends, but you could still see by the way he ate his meat that this guy could tear anyone apart if he wanted to. No one knew this better than Virginia—she’d witnessed him beating Min-Jun to a sputtering pulp a few weeks ago, throwing punches like Min-Jun was made of butter. Virginia wondered what it would feel like to be that strong.

  She looked around the cafeteria. It was kind of cool, Winn Davis sitting with Mystery Club. It gave her a little buzz, disrupting the social order. Everyone was looking at them, but Winn didn’t seem to notice or care.

  “I’m pleased to inform you that Mystery Club has ascertained the identity of the person in the bathroom the night of the science expo,” Benny said in a low voice. He slid a piece of paper across the table. Virginia squinted to read the name on it:

  CALVIN HARKER.

  Her eyes widened. Then she felt Benny looking at her, and she tried to make her face blank. He’s checking my reaction, she realized. It made her feel vaguely offended, like Benny thought she was suspicious or something.

  “Thanks, man.” Winn tucked the slip of paper into his pocket.

  “I helped,” Virginia piped up.

  Winn gave her a nod. “Y’all are pretty cool.” He ripped off another piece of chicken with his perfect white teeth.

  “Can I ask you one thing?” Benny asked. “Strictly confidential.”

  Winn nodded.

  “What is a ‘red pill’?”

  Winn stopped chewing for a second. Then he swallowed and said, “I dunno. I took the blue one.”

  “And what was that?”

  “I dunno,” Winn said again. “It was . . . happiness.”

  There was a short silence that felt long. Then Benny said, “Sounds like ecstasy.”

  Winn nodded. “Yeah. That’s a good word for it.”

  “No, I mean the drug ecstasy. It creates a sensation of euphoria.”

  “Oh.”

  “But the red pill was something else? An amphetamine, perhaps. Something that heightens aggressive behavior.”

  Winn shrugged. He was looking over his shoulder, obviously ready for the conversation to be over. Benny waved his hand, as if waving the question away. He reached into his backpack and handed Winn an envelope. “Would you mind filling out this client satisfaction survey? Just return to the locker number on the front.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “We aim for the highest-quality investigative service.”

  “Okay.” And with that, Winn picked up his tray and went to sit down with his friends.

  Virginia felt Benny staring at her. “What?” she said.

  “I told you it was Calvin.”

  “You did not! You said he was a banana-peel-dropping psychopath.”

  “Well, he’s a drug dealer. That’s not much better.”

  Virginia scoffed. “Since when do you care what people do? We’ve let two attempted murderers go free, but god forbid Calvin gives drugs to consenting people?” She was trying to seem blasé, but on the inside she was freaking out. Calvin was a drug dealer? She was having a hard time wrapping her head around it. Drug dealers were supposed to be scary sleazebags, not poetic, pants-ironing headmaster’s sons.

  “Whatever,” Benny said brusquely, opening one of his textbooks. “I need to study.”
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  “What is wrong with you?” Virginia said, poking his arm with her fork.

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Benny sighed and closed his book. He pulled a camera out of his pocket and turned it on, frowning as if its very existence offended him. And as soon as Virginia saw the image on its tiny screen, she understood why.

  “Oh my god!” she squealed. “He called you. He like, called you, Benny Flax.”

  “He’s a joker and a drug dealer and an unsafe driver. I don’t think you should hang out with him anymore.”

  Virginia balked. “Um, ex-squeeze me?”

  Benny opened his book again. “I really don’t have time for this conversation. I need to study.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to do?”

  Benny didn’t look up from his book. “Do what you want. We still have two open cases. Mrs. Jewel’s computer was password-protected, so I couldn’t get proof of the election rigging. And I haven’t had any luck with the identity of the caddie the golf team assaulted. If you insist on seeing Calvin again, I suggest you make use of it and get some answers out of him.”

  “Okaaaay . . .” Virginia waited for Benny to say something else, but he just stared at his book as if she were invisible. She was used to Benny’s random mood swings, and normally they didn’t bother her. But suddenly she wished she could go back in time and relive that brief, weird moment on the golf course where things had felt different between them. Benny with his shiny hair and twinkling eyes, and that smile she’d never seen before or since.

  You don’t have five hundred dollars.

  You have no idea what I have.

  Virginia sighed. Whatever that moment had been, it was dead now. She buried it in a grave, mourned it for five seconds, then picked up her lunch tray and moved on.

  Friday

  The administrative annex, 3:15 p.m.

  Something was going on with Benny Flax, and Yasmin had a bad feeling about it. He’d turned in four extra-credit projects that week, which was incredibly alarming. Benny never went the extra mile with school stuff. Teachers even lectured him about it. One of the best moments of ninth grade was when Yasmin overheard the college counselor saying to Benny, “I want to see you push yourself. Yasmin Astarabadi is a good example—Yasmin never stops pushing. That’s a girl who’s going somewhere. Where are you going, Benny Flax?” Praise from teachers was like crack to Yasmin. It was the only thing that made her feel good, and she’d do anything to get it.

  She was sitting on the bench outside Mrs. Jewel’s office, nervously picking at her cuticles until they bled. There had been a memo on her locker to report to the principal’s office after school, and she didn’t know what it was about. She knew she couldn’t be in trouble. What could she possibly be in trouble for? But she was still so anxious she felt slightly ill.

  I didn’t see anything, I swear.

  She practiced saying it in her mind, in case this was about that spooky thing with the Harkers. Every time she thought about it, it gave her a little chill: the headmaster standing silently with his hand around his son’s throat. Both of them looking at her like she was an intrusive cockroach.

  Something else was bothering her too. All week Yasmin had been hyperaware of wherever Brittany Montague was in the hallways between classes. It made her feel creepy. What if Brittany had reported her to Mrs. Jewel for being a stalker? But it’s not like Yasmin ever followed Brittany. She just . . . noticed her. She noticed everything about her. Her hair. Her skin. How adorable she managed to look in the neck brace she had to wear from getting whiplash. And Brittany would smile and wave when she saw Yasmin, which felt good for about half a second before she smiled and waved at someone else. Brittany smiled and waved like it was her job. Yasmin wished she could stop thinking about her. It was taking up too much space in her already maxed-out brain.

  “Yasmin?”

  Mrs. Jewel opened her door and invited Yasmin inside her office. Yasmin sat down on the vinyl chair, carefully positioning her copy of Hillary Clinton’s book on her lap so Mrs. Jewel would notice it. She’d memorized a variety of quotes from the book to insert into the conversation wherever possible.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Yasmin. I wanted to tell you personally because, though I’ve only been here a short while, it’s very evident to me that you are a serious student who cares deeply about academic and civic achievement. Oh, is that Hard Choices?”

  “Hm? Oh, yes . . .” Yasmin had prepared to launch into a glowing review of the book in her lap, but suddenly her mouth felt dry and she couldn’t speak. Bad news?

  Mrs. Jewel tapped her stubby fingers on the desk. Her nails were short and unmanicured. “Well, anyway. We all expected you to be attending the leadership luncheon in December. You know that the governor has invited the top two students from each class. Calvin Harker has maintained the number one position, and until today you were number two. But I’m afraid that Benny Flax has overtaken you, and the invitation will now be extended to him.”

  For a moment Yasmin felt stunned, like she’d been punched but for some reason couldn’t feel pain. I knew it, she thought. I knew that fucker was up to something. But the tiny amount of validation was instantly drowned by a flood of panicked disbelief.

  “What?” she heard herself saying.

  Mrs. Jewel looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I was warned that you might take this a little hard. But you’re a strong young woman. You will rise above this.”

  “Benny Flax?” she sputtered. “This—this isn’t fair!”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Mrs. Jewel said. “He pulled up his GPA rather miraculously. We have to give the spot to him.”

  “Well, I’ll pull up my GPA even further! Give me an extra week!” she begged.

  Mrs. Jewel shook her head. “Today was the deadline. Participants need time to prepare their presentations. I’m not happy about this either, Yasmin. You were the only female on the list. Guess who we are now sending to the Governor’s Mansion? Eight boys.” She spat the word with contempt normally reserved for words like terrorists or puppy killers. She went on, “What kind of message does that send to the young women of this school?”

  “It’s—it’s not my fault!” Yasmin said, feeling an immense lump forming in her throat.

  Mrs. Jewel frowned. “There’s a mistake that women make when they get to the top: they forget to look down. They don’t see the men coming to drag them back to the dirt. Never, ever let a man steal something you earned.”

  Leave me alone! Yasmin wanted to yell. She scanned her mind for a Hillary Clinton quote that was the equivalent of “Fuck mean bitches who like to kick girls when they’re down.” She bit her lip to keep from screaming.

  “I will certainly keep that in mind,” Yasmin said evenly. Then she picked up her bag and her copy of Hillary Clinton’s useless-ass book and left.

  As soon as she was alone in the empty hallway, Yasmin knew she had two options: she could melt down and cry, or she could keep pushing.

  I can still do this, she thought. Not because Mrs. Jewel’s guilt trip had been so inspiring, but because Yasmin had something on her side that no one else did. And it wasn’t brains or conviction or women’s empowerment.

  It was the Shark.

  The Boarders, 5:30 p.m.

  To: c.harker@winship.edu

  From: v.leeds@winship.edu

  Subject: (no subject)

  What’s up? I guess you’re still grounded.

  Hey I have a question. Can you sneak onto your dad’s computer? It’s for Mystery Club. I’m trying to get proof that the prez election last spring was rigged. Benny says the electronic voting records should be on the admin cloud software.

  Sorry that question was so boring. I have other things I could ask you but Im not sure if you’re checking your e-mail anymore. Well, I guess I’ll say bye now.

  Bye!

  Virginia read the e-mail for the thousandth time. She’d sent it on Monday and there’d been no
reply. Had she been too business-like? Maybe she should have said, Dear Calvin, Sorry I Frenched you and made you wreck your car. Is it true that you’re a drug dealer? Xoxo!

  Virginia flopped onto the ratty common-room sofa. It had been such a boring week, she wanted to throw herself off a bridge. Calvin hadn’t shown up to school at all. She’d heard a messenger was handing in all his homework. And Benny had been basically a blur, rushing between classes with his nose in a book, barely acknowledging her when they passed in the hallway. She had two e-mails from Min-Jun about wanting to meet soon to “talk business,” which made her so nervous she’d just deleted them both without answering.

  The two Mystery Club cases were still open. Virginia had no idea how to find the name of an unidentified beaten-up black man, and she had no idea how to get into an administrator’s password-protected computer. She’d always resented Benny’s bossiness, but now she was realizing that, without him, she didn’t have the first clue how to conduct an investigation. Plus her arm hurt constantly—a relentless, throbbing ache that made her feel irritable and tired.

  Mrs. Jewel’s proclamation that the Homecoming dance was now girls-ask-guys had created the most boring pre-dance week in history. To ensure that no one’s feelings would get hurt, the Montague twins had organized a box in their homeroom where all the girls could anonymously submit the name of the guy they wanted to ask, and if a guy’s name was in the box more than once, it meant no one was allowed to ask him at all. It was the exact kind of thing that drove Virginia crazy. She envied male friendships and the way boys gave each other space; girls were always stifling each other, and holding each other back with their suffocating togetherness.

  The upshot of the twins’ box system was that only guys on the fringe and guys no one else wanted were fair game to ask. It didn’t really affect Virginia. She preferred going to dances alone anyway; it opened the night up to more possibility. If she was honest, the thing that was really bugging her was Chrissie White. Apparently Chrissie had had a magical love connection with Benny Flax at Trevor’s party, where he’d saved her from her own sloppy drunkenness by riding in on a unicorn or something. And now Chrissie wanted to ask him to the dance if she could get up the courage (which, knowing her, she probably couldn’t). The insane part was that, according to her, she’d had breakfast with Benny’s entire family at his house. It was beyond unfair. After all the countless hours Virginia had spent being Benny’s servant for Mystery Club, he wouldn’t even invite her to his synagogue for Chinese food. Meanwhile, Chrissie spent one night with him and managed to make it something to brag about.