All The Glory (17 page)

“Everyone wants to know why you did it.” Bobby leaned his face down really close to the table. His eyes darted to the window and the back door. “They’re speculating.”

“Let ‘em,” Jason said, starting on his second sandwich. He kept staring at his plate, like he was planning his next move with his lunch. Something way more important than discussing his crime against humanity, or so it seemed.

I wanted to pretend like this was a normal conversation and eat my sandwich too, but I’d lost my appetite. Nothing about this could have been called normal. Not the conversation, not me and Bobby being here, not the way I was feeling, and not Jason acting like it was all okay.

“Just stop!” I said, way too loudly.

Both of them looked at me.

“Sorry. That was loud. I just … want to not dwell on the awful part of this.”

“That’s all there is,” Bobby said. “Unless I’m missing something.” He looked from Jason to me.

“Nope. It’s all pretty much awful soul-destroying shit.” Jason shoved about ten chips into his mouth at once.

“It’s not completely hopeless, come on.” I was practically pleading at this point. “Jason, you’re alive, and you did something terrible, but I know it was a mistake. I
know
it was.”

Jason put down his third sandwich and stared at me. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“She’s kind of the hopeless romantic type,” Bobby said, like he was commiserating with Jason.

I smacked both of them on their arms.

“Shut up, I am not. I’m just logical. Logic says you did
not
wake up the day of that game and decide you were going to kill the coach, goddammit!”

“
Oooph
. That’s a commandment broken right there,” Bobby said.

“You’re right,” Jason said, saving Bobby from getting slapped again. “I didn’t wake up and think that.”

“See?” I looked at Bobby and Jason, back and forth, a smile lighting up my face. Hope was practically exploding from my chest. “It wasn’t pre-meditated, it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t part of who Jason is!”

“But he did it,” Bobby said in a small, sad voice. “So I guess it is now.”

I lost my happy right there. Boom. Gone. My heart became a black hole sucking in all the misery around me and filling me with it.

“Listen,” said Jason, “I don’t want you guys getting into a fight over this, okay? It’s a done deal, whether we want it to be or not. I killed the ass… the coach and nothing is going to change that. Not all the wishing or second-guessing or hopeless romantic whatever in the world.” He shoved another handful of chips into his mouth and stood up. “I’m going to go upstairs and work-out.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” I said, standing and gathering up my stuff into my bag.

“But I just got here,” Bobby whined, looking up at us.

“Yeah, and you got everyone all depressed, so come on.” I nudged his shoulder. “Now you have to leave.”

Bobby stood and hung his head. “I’m sorry for being a party pooper. I promise I won’t rain on your love-parade ever again.”

If Jason hadn’t been standing right there, I would have clocked Bobby good, but since Jason
was
there watching, I just laughed it off. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Come on. We have tons of physics homework to get done and I don’t understand any of it.”

Bobby argued about whether he was going to help me as we made our way to the front door. I was glad for the distraction, so I let him roll with it.

“See you soon, maybe?” Jason asked me, his hand poised on the door handle.

“Tomorrow for sure,” I said, sending him an apology with my eyes. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for; I just wanted his day to not suck as much as it did right then.

“Cool. See ya.” He undid the locks and pulled the door open, remaining behind it as we went across the threshold.

When we stepped out onto the front porch and the door closed behind us, Bobby leaned towards me, whispering in my ear. “Now I see why you keep coming over here.”

A spark lit up my heart. “You can see it too? That he’s hiding something?”

“No. He’s seriously hot, and now he’s single and available too.”

I pinched Bobby really hard on the back as he tried to escape me by running down the front porch stairs.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SATURDAY STARTED OUT AWESOME, SUN shining everywhere, birds chirping, and a weather forecast that said we wouldn’t be seeing any clouds or rain for days. I danced around my room, thinking of all the fun things I could do. That lasted all of ten seconds as it came to me that Jason had woken up to the same weather but probably wasn’t dancing around his room or happy about all the things he could do. Because he couldn’t do any of them.

My parents explained that technically he could leave his house and do things, but the press had other plans for Jason, should he ever show his face outside his door. And kids at school were still talking about how he’d get seriously injured or worse if he ever showed up where they were. That pretty much left out any place worth going in our town. No mall, no movies, no hanging out downtown, no zoo, no library, no bookstore, no
nothing
.

An idea began to form in my mind, but I had to be sure Jason didn’t have other plans first. I texted his dad.

What is Jason doing today?

A few minutes later I got a response.
This is Jason. Working out. That’s it.

Feel like company?

My nerves got the better of me when it took him a long time to answer. I was ready to type
or not
when his answer came back.

Sure. If u dont have smthng better to do.

I thought about what I’d be doing today if Jason were his regular, non-murdering self and ignoring me like he’d always done before. I’d probably call Bobby and we’d drive around, maybe see a movie, or possibly go to the mall. My twiggy buddy wasn’t much for outdoorsy things, and I was too unmotivated to come up with anything more interesting, usually.

My fingers were shaking a tiny bit as I typed out my response
.

C u at lunch.

As I pounded down the stairs, my plan came together. If Jason couldn’t go out, I’d do what I could to simulate being out. At least until his fame died down a little. Having a plan of sorts gave me hope, and hope felt like pure drugs at that point.

“What are you so energetic about this early on a Saturday morning?” my mom asked from her spot at the table.

“We usually don’t see you before noon on the weekends,” my father added.

“I have to do a lot of homework.” I poured myself some cereal and joined them.

“Check her for a fever, Marjorie.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” I didn’t even look at him, worried he’d see in my eyes that I was lying about the whole homework thing. “I’m feeling fine.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with a certain boy who lives down the street does it?” my mother asked.

“God, Mom …” I stood up with my bowl and ate at the sink, using every bit of acting power I had in me to keep the truth from my face.

“Sorry. I was just asking.”

“Are you planning on going over there?” my father asked.

The thing I’d been trying to avoid was happening; all eyes were on me, my parents no longer paying any attention to their sudoku puzzles or crosswords.

“I was thinking about it.”
Munch, munch, munch, I sure do love this healthy cereal!
“We have this monster physics final and Jason’s pretty good at that stuff.” That part wasn’t a lie. He
was
pretty good at it. I’d seen his tests when the teacher passed them back from the front of the classroom. Normally the exam papers that went all the way to the back row had low grades on them, but I’d never seen Jason get less than a B, at least in that subject.

“I don’t want you over there all day,” my father said, his voice getting stern.

“I’m not planning to, okay? Geez, I know you don’t want me over there at all. You don’t need to keep bringing it up.” I was on edge. Normally I wouldn’t be this reckless with talking back to my parents when I knew I had plans to go out later, but everything about Jason seemed to immediately get me out of control. I definitely needed to work on that.

“It’s not that we don’t want you over there, sweetie.” My mom sighed. “We just worry about the long-term effects of this friendship.”

“Forget long-term, how about short term?” my father said. “Say what you want, but our society does not look kindly on people who support criminals.”

I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from yelling at him.

“All we’re saying is … be careful. That reporter or photographer or whatever he was who came over here to get his camera was not a nice person. He’d be more than happy to take pictures of you in compromising positions.”

My face heated up flaming red instantly. “Mom! Jesus Christ, I’m not going to get myself into any compromising positions!” An image of Jason’s naked torso flashed in my mind and made me feel like a total perv.

“Hey, easy there!” my father said.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” my mother said, sounding embarrassed. “Not compromising like sexual…”

“Mom! Could we please just drop it?” I practically threw my dish in the sink and fast-walked out of there as quickly as I could. Climbing the stairs to my room, I did everything I could to keep the images from re-forming in my mind, but my brain had other ideas.

Jason with his shirt off.

Jason in his boxers.

Gah!

Me in a bathing suit and Jason in his bathing suit and us holding hands.

Double gah!

I grabbed my phone off my desk and texted Bobby.

U in for lunch at J’s?

I brushed my teeth and read his response after I spit.

No can do. Gotta go get reproed.

My eyes naturally rolled up into my head at that. Re-proed meant he was going to a local church that practiced what they called
re-programming.
Their goal was to heal gays of their homosexual proclivities.

It was this sick game played by Bobby and his father. Bobby would go and act like it was finally making a difference, telling everyone what they wanted to hear, and then he’d go to the mall and buy something really sparkly and try to hook up with a guy.

It made me totally upset, but this was a pattern that they’d established a long time ago, and nothing I said would ever change it. Bobby had been going through re-programming for almost five years at that point. It was sick and sad and completely wrong, but Bobby’s father was not yet ready to accept the fact that Bobby was who he was and no priest or anyone else was going to change that. Bobby was way more charitable than I was about it. He kept saying that one day, his father would come around. I wasn’t so sure.

Good luck with that,
I texted.

U going to J’s all day?

My defenses went up.

No!

I sent the message before I could tone it down, which was really stupid because no one can read the emotions in a text like Bobby can.

Feeling a little anxious? lolsies

I rolled my eyes. He was totally fishing, so I didn’t bother to answer. Instead, I went online to check the latest news on Jason’s case.

The first headline caught my eye and immediately made me feel sick to my stomach.

MURDERER’S GIRLFRIEND DEFENDS HER MAN
.

My first thought was that somehow Brittney had experienced a major change of heart, but the photo under the caption immediately cleared up that little misunderstanding.

Some assbucket had snapped an action shot of me in the middle of forming a word that looked like it might have been
orange
or
ogre
. I couldn’t have looked less attractive had I tried.

I prayed Jason wouldn’t see it. Not only would he realize how truly heinous I can look in the wrong light, but he’d probably think I was telling people I was his new girlfriend. Even the thought of it made me get all flustered.

I didn’t even bother to read the article, knowing it would piss me off way too much for such a sunny day. Instead, I texted Bobby one last time and then left for the store so I could gather up my supplies for my little plan.

Chapter Thirty

I RANG THE DOORBELL, MY arms loaded down with my backpack from this year and the one I kept from the year before. I ignored the sounds of camera shutters behind me. The press had thinned, but that didn’t mean there was any privacy for anyone approaching the Bradley house. I could only imagine what the headlines tomorrow would say.

GIRLFRIEND ARRIVES WITH LUGGAGE PLANNING GETAWAY WITH MURDERER BOYFRIEND
.

I was over it, though. Screw those assholes. Always assuming the press’s goal was to get to the truth, I never used to think much about reporters. Now I knew better. Now I knew their game plan was sensationalism, pure and simple; and the more awful or outlandish it was, the better.

No one had bothered to ask me the status of my relationship with Jason before they published that garbage yesterday; they’d just assumed it. Girlfriends of murderers probably sell way more papers than friends of murderers or neighbors of murderers. Whatever happened to fact-checking, I wanted to know.

My train of thought was derailed by the door opening. No one was there, but the hall was now plainly in view.

“You behind the door?” I asked.

“Yep,” Jason said, “come on in.”

I stepped inside and the door swung shut behind me. Jason was standing there in shorts and no shirt, and he was sweating. A lot.

My heart did a double back flip. I swallowed with difficulty. He looked like some guy in an ad for a sports drink. Guys in those ads are never anything less than stunning.

“You’re naked,” I said before I could stop myself.

He laughed. “You wish. Come on.” He gestured for me to follow him and then ran up the stairs without even waiting for my response.

I left my backpacks at the bottom of the stairs and followed the sounds of Jason ahead of me. He’d disappeared into a room in the middle of the hallway.

When I got there, I leaned in the door a little. The room was full of exercise equipment, and he was lying down on a bench with a bar of weights over him. It kind of smelled, like old sweat and metal.