Keaton School 01: Escape Theory (24 page)

“He is a good guy, right? Like, I can trust him?”

“Totally. He’s crazy about you. Of course you can trust him. Duh. Now stop being lame and go find some matching underwear.”

T
WO HOURS
,
FIVE OUTFITS
, and one barely read chapter of
A Tale of Two Cities
later, Grant knocked on Devon’s window. As usual he wore the LAX baseball cap, brim pulled low, but he had changed into a fresh shirt and jeans. Devon immediately spotted the green blanket tucked beneath his arm.

“Ready, sugar?” he asked.

Devon stepped out her room. She had decided on a blue dress that Presley said made her boobs look good, and matching black bra and underwear. “Yeah, let’s do it—I mean, I’m ready.”

“I got a good place in mind, come on.” Grant wrapped an arm around her shoulder and walked her up the hill. Screams came from Spring House next door, and they could see water balloons being tossed from trees and behind bushes.

“Freshman.” Grant laughed.

“Remember that bread fight when we were freshman?”

“There was no toast the rest of the week because we swiped so much bread from the kitchen.”

“I remember I even found bread in my hair the next day,” Devon said.

“I think Matt hit me over the head with a baguette,” Grant added.

“I got hit with a pita pocket in the eye. Hutch was flinging them like Frisbees,” Devon said. She hadn’t even realized it, but the mention of his name stopped them both.

“Hey,” Grant said, turning her toward her. “I know you’re still going through a lot of Hutch stuff. But, I’m the one that’s here. And I like you, Devon.”

“I … I know. And I’m sorry. But why? I mean, that sounds stupid, but I kind of want to know why.”

“You really don’t know? Okay, well. You’re hot, but you don’t know that you’re hot, which makes you hotter.”

She laughed, her face suddenly warm. “I guess that’s a compliment?”

“You’re smart, like really, scary, smart. You’re a good kisser.” He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers, then withdrew.

“I didn’t know that,” she whispered.

“It’s true,” he said. “And, you are really selfless, which most people aren’t, and that’s kind of amazing.” He kissed her again. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Thank you.” She looked at Grant, his smiling face, his long nose, and the stubble on his chin.
He’s here, and he likes me
, she thought.
And I like him. Screw Cleo
.

They turned and walked over the hill, past the Dining Hall. The kitchen staff had set up barbeques, grilling burgers and corn on the cob outside. The gasoline-y smell of charcoal reminded Devon of the summer, now gone. Movement down the hill near the History classrooms caught Devon’s eye. A flash of red: Matt holding a blanket. Followed by … Isla? Yes. Definitely. They disappeared
behind the classrooms. So, Cleo was right about Matt hooking up with someone. But Devon would have never guessed Isla.

“Hey, you coming?” Grant was pulling Devon down the hill.

“Yeah, sorry,” she said.
You can process that later
, she told herself. But her mind wouldn’t let her. Matt and Isla? Together? Maybe it made sense in a twisted way since they were the two closest people to Hutch.

Moments later, Devon found herself being led into the art building. Grant opened a door to a student’s studio and led her inside, closing the door behind her. It reminded Devon of her therapy room. A wooden easel held a half-painted bowl of fruit on canvas, and a tall closet took up the corner. Devon shuffled her feet against the cool cement slab floor.

“Hold on,” he said. Grant laid his blanket on the ground and then pulled two pillows from the closet, placing them next to the blanket.

“Who’s studio is this?”

“Raj’s. Don’t worry, it’s cool. I brought the pillows down here, they’re not his.” He reached into the closet and brought out a candle. “A little mood lighting.” And then he brought out his iPod and pressed play. “A new playlist. What dya think?”

“You really thought this through.” Devon was kind of impressed. It was a valiant attempt at boarding school romance, all things considered.

“Come here,” Grant said. He pulled her close and started kissing her. Devon let herself enjoy the kiss, enjoy Grant holding her tight. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her to the floor and put a pillow behind her head. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded. Her heart thumped. So. This was it. The training wheels were going to come off. Grant lay on top of her, the weight of his body pressing the air out of her chest.

“Hold on,” he said. He rolled to the side and pulled a keychain from his pocket. “These don’t feel so good.” It rattled on the floor next to Devon’s head. He started kissing her neck and she could feel him searching for the zipper to her dress.

“Wait,” she said and rolled to the side. Grant pulled back and watched as Devon reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She pulled it over her head and placed the pile of cloth on the floor next to them. As she lay back down, Grant’s keychain caught the light from his candle and metal flashed in Devon’s eyes. A bottle opener. Familiar-looking. A green bottle opener with a white cursive G at the top. Not “G” for Grant … no, that same beer bottle G. The part of Devon that was enjoying the moment, that was keeping other thoughts at bay because kissing Grant felt so good, whooshed from her like air out of a flat tire. She sat up and reached for her dress again.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Grant asked.

“Um, sorry, I.…” She tried to put it all together. The bottles near the Palace. The label in the car. Grant with the same opener. Most of all: Cleo’s being right about Matt. If she was right about Matt, she could be right about Grant, too. It wasn’t a coincidence. There was no such thing.

“I gotta go.”

Name: Isla Martin

Session Date: Oct. 3

Session #3

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up today or not,” Devon said. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m going to talk to you about anything.” Isla stared up at the ceiling. “I know you’re just here to rat on us to Wyler.”

“But you’re here anyway. Is there something you want to talk about?”

Isla shrugged and turned the window, pretending to be bored.
Let her talk first
. She picked at her nails, which were even more ragged and chipped than usual.

“Okay, fine.” Devon gave in. “There is something I want to talk about with you. You and Matt? How long has that been going on?”

Isla pressed her lips together. The veins in her neck seemed to tighten.

“Did you hear what I said?” Devon asked, purposely being overly polite.

She slowly brought her eyes back to Devon. “Matt? We’re not like a thing or anything. It’s just that, since Hutch, you know, Matt’s the only person that really gets what it’s like.”

“What it’s like to lose someone close to you?”

“Yeah, that. And.…” Isla looked out the window again.

“And.…” Devon tried to draw out the answer.

“Forget it. It’s nothing.” Isla snapped. She lifted up her sleeve to scratch at her arm, and Devon noticed a series of scratches scabbed and hidden underneath Isla’s shirt. “I know who it is,” she added, answering an unasked question.

“Who what is?”

“The slut that Hutch was with. It’s your little freshman BFF, Raven.”

Devon forced herself to look down and pretend to write something in her notebook, frightened her face would betray her feelings.

“After Bodhi got arrested at the game, Matt told me that Bodhi and his little sister worked on the Hutchins vineyard over the summer,” Isla went on. “That little day student with her crappy Volvo. Just cause she surfs, she thinks she’s all local and cool, but they’re just a bunch of losers.” She glared at Devon as she spoke, daring her to defend Raven and Bodhi.

“I heard that they worked there this summer. But that doesn’t—”

“I knew it! I knew you would defend the lying bitch.” Spit flew from Isla’s mouth as she yelled.

“Isla, I’m not defending anyone. I just want to help.”

“Spare me, Devon. You’re not my shrink. That’s why Hutch got the pregnancy test for her. She was too afraid to tell her pharmacist brother because he and Hutch were tight. Bodhi would have killed Hutch if he found out.” But all Devon heard was
killed Hutch
. Even though she didn’t want to believe it, Raven could have been, could even still be, pregnant with Hutch’s baby. And when she factored
in that Bodhi had access to the car and the beer and the Oxy—and could have easily met Hutch at the Palace by driving up one of Reed’s fire roads—Isla’s theory wasn’t too far from the one Devon had been halfway to forming.

“What makes you say that? I mean, ‘kill’ is a big word.” What did Isla know about Bodhi that Raven didn’t let on?

“Please, you saw Matt’s face. All those Monte Vista guys are the same. They’re not smart enough, so they think beating everyone up is the solution to their problems.”

“Yeah, I was wondering what happened to Matt.” Devon tried to look curious.

“Duh. They jumped him. Of course they see some rich Keaton kid walking down the beach, so they think it’s cool just to beat him up and take his money. Anyway, Matt told me that you saw the whole thing. Let’s just stop bullshitting each other, okay?”

Devon let the slightest laugh out.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just, I’m not sure that’s the only side to that story. Bodhi did get a scholarship to MIT. Is it possible that Matt told you what he wanted you to believe?”

“What does that mean? I’m actually telling you something here and you think I’m lying? Nice work, they teach you that in therapy school?” Isla scratched at her arm again.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me. Forget I said anything.”
^*

“Look, I trust Matt, okay? He wouldn’t lie to me.” Isla laughed to herself. “He wouldn’t.”

“What are you laughing at?”

“It’s just our thing. We don’t lie to each other. When we got together we promised that over the summer we wouldn’t lie unlike everyone else in our lives.”

“Wait? Over the summer? So you got together last year?” Devon sat a little straighter in her chair.

Isla looked out the window again. Studied her nails, trying to look nonchalant. But Devon could see the raised veins in her neck again. Finally she sighed. “Whatever. It’s not like Hutch is around to be all shocked now. Yes, Matt and I started hooking up a little last year while I was still technically with Hutch. We didn’t see each other over the summer or anything, so it’s not like we
totally
stabbed him in the back.”

“Right. You just
slightly
stabbed him in the back?” She bit her lip.
Stupid
. Above all, a peer counselor was never supposed to condemn a subject for any behavior, but Devon’s mind wasn’t on her training right now.

“I don’t have to take this from you,” Isla said.

Focus on the session
. “Hey, I’m just trying to put all the pieces together. Like, when Cleo got you that pregnancy test you thought it was because she heard something about the night Hutch died? What would she have heard, Isla? That you were sleeping with his best friend on the night Hutch died? Was that it?”

Isla shook her head, but she wouldn’t meet Devon’s eyes. Devon shifted in her chair. Maybe she was playing “bad cop” now and yelling at Isla until she owned up to her mistakes, but she knew she had already crossed any counseling boundaries and there was no “good cop” to save the day. Isla had disrespected Hutch, lied to him, cheated on him. Devon couldn’t change that no matter how much she hated her for it. She steadied her breathing and tried to bring herself back to the moment. This was all about how to help Isla. How to help lying, cheating, drug-abusing Isla.

“No,” Isla said after a long silence. “You’re spinning this to make me look like the slut here when it was that freshman who went behind
my
back and slept with Hutch and got herself pregnant. It’s her fault. All of it.”

“Isla,” Devon sighed. Isla wasn’t making sense. Her illicit relationship with Matt had been exposed but instead of justifying it, or even lying about it, she was fixated on Raven. This pregnancy had really hit a nerve for some reason. That’s what Devon needed to
help her with. “Whoever Hutch may have gotten pregnant doesn’t have anything to do with you. That was Hutch’s business. It’s not a judgment about you.”

“No, no, it’s all connected.” Isla shook her head, sure of herself, getting worked up. “It’s all part of the same thing. Hutch always thought he was better than me.” Isla scratched at her arm again, digging deeper into her skin without flinching.

“Okay. Let’s just calm down for a second, take a few deep breaths.”

“And you. You sit there thinking you’re better than me, too. You just wish it was you with Hutch last year, don’t you? Yeah, that’s it. You’re jealous I got to screw him all year long and you sat in your little room holding onto your virginity like you were a princess or something. Well, you and your little friend Raven better watch your backs because Hutch isn’t here to protect you anymore.” Isla’s hands were shaking now. She squeezed her eyes shut and fell back into her chair. “I don’t feel good,” she whispered.

What do you do when your subject freaks out? Where was that in the training book? “Isla, are you on something right now? I know this isn’t you talking; it’s the drugs. What are you taking?” Devon reached out and held onto Isla’s hands. Devon couldn’t watch her scratch herself up anymore. “We’re going to find Matt. Okay? Matt can help you.”

“I don’t need any help,” Isla said as her chest heaved.

“It’s okay to ask for help if you need it.” Did she have a reason for not wanting to accept help or was this simply denial that she actually needed it? Isla ripped her hands away. She stood up Devon could see the beads of sweat along her hairline. “I’m fine. I don’t need you. I can see what you think about me. And you know what, you and this counseling shit can fuck off. You don’t know anything.”

“Isla,” Devon stood up but Isla turned back with a growl.