Page 59 of Speak

“She doesn’t talk.”

RMPD and Dean Whitmore showed up twenty minutes ago and Jonas has been answering all the questions they’ve asked, which neither of us know the answer to. I’m sitting on the grass, watching as they pull Chase’s body out of the water and onto the shore with a sickening wet, heavy SPLAT that makes me want to hurl. I did that. I let myself shed more tears and I feel Jonas crouch down and he rubs my back.

I tear my eyes away from the scene as they zip up the body and put it on a stretcher. They didn’t have an ambulance come out. They called the coroner.

I look up at Sheriff O’Hannigan. He’s a robust man, well-built, a little older but still has an athletic build. His uniform looks good on him. He wears aviator shades like a cliché cop, chewing gum, hisstrawberry blonde hair is littered with white hairs, giving away his age. That he’s tenured. That he deserves his position on the force.

Do you sign?O’Hannigan asks with his hands.

I blink at him and shake my head once.

“She does this sometimes. Comes out to swim or plays the cello out here. She ran back to get me.”

“She’s your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Jonas lies. But it feels so good. Me. Unworthy of him, especially now, hisgirlfriend. I could fly.

“And where were you last night?”

“I was with my parents after the game. We had dinner at Sebastian’s and we were there until closing time,” his eyes flick to me and his ears turn slightly pink, “then I went to her dorm room. She was already in bed. I fell asleep next to her.” Oh? “I went back up to my room to change before she left to come here. You can check the cameras.”

I snuck into my room through the window a little after eleven-thirty. I won’t be on the cameras.

“You didn’t go to the party together?”

Jonas shakes his head. “She doesn’t go to parties because she has panic attacks around large crowds and I went out to celebrate the win with my parents.”

“She didn’t go with you?”

Jonas shakes his head. “We aren’tthereyet,” he puts his hand on my waist. “It’s still new. But you can call my parents and ask them.”

“I will.” O’Hannigan replies.

“CHASE!” I turn back and through the trees, Riordan comes flying out, like a vengeful ghost. I don’t have to step behind Jonas, he pulls me behind him, protecting me even though I’m not his to protect. “Oh god no! Please, please, please, no!” his agonized screams echo thought out the field, causing birds to fly out of the tree line.

His blue eyes pierce through me. “You!” he gags. “Oh my god, Chase. What did you do?” Whether the question is directed at me or his dead brother- I have no idea. He lets out a visceral scream, and lunges at Jonas, trying to get to me. He still smells of tequila and sweat. His nails scratch at my sweatshirt and he yanks me, but myface just hits Jonas’ strong, muscular back. Both Dean Whitmore and the sheriff pull him off.

“Not my brother.” He moans, and tears fall, pure agony on his face. “Not my brother,please.” He chokes out between sobs. “He’s all I have.”

Jonas reaches out and tugs him in his chest, crying alongside with him. I hear what he whispers to him, “She was with me last night, Riordan. All night. She didn’t do this. This is… horrible. But it was an accident. Weren’t you with him?”

“We were both so wasted last night. I didn’t… I fell asleep in the basement where it was quiet… oh god… Jonas it hurts!” he cries, clutching at his chest.

“I know, brother. I know. I’m here. I’m still here. I got you.” Jonas shushes.

“You’re Riordan Prescott?” O’Hannigan asks. Riordan turns and faces the sheriff and simply nods. “We’re going to need you to come down to the coroner’s office and… identify the body. I believe your parents are already on their way to the station.”

Riordan pukes sour tequila and bile. O’Hannigan looks like he’s about to be sick himself. The stench that comes off of Riordan is vile. “I have to… my parents… I need to change and shower. I…theycan’t see me like this.”

O’Hannigan nods, seeming to understand that the elite… well, they’re just not supposed to show emotion. We’re to be well composed at all times. Statues. Living, breathing statues made out of marble slabs that looks like skin. “Go home, kid. Change. Meet me and your parents down at the station. We’ll wait for you to get there.”

Riordan nods.

“Ri, don’t… don’t go back to the SDC house. I’ll go and get you some clothes. Go to my dorm. Shower. You can stay there if you want, until you’re ready to go back. I’ll stay with Raven, okay? You don’t have to… don’t go back there. Okay?”

Riordan nods again, in a catatonic trance.

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