Page 141 of For Your Own Good
His parents have left, and his new roommate hasn’t arrived yet. Zach picks the bed near the heater—because Vermont—and starts to unpack. It doesn’t take long. He didn’t bring much besides his clothes, computer, and other gadgets. Before it gets too cold, he’ll have to go back home and get his winter gear.
When he’s finished, he sits down at his new desk and looks around. Nothing is grey. Nothing is gloomy.
Four months have passed since the memorial ceremony. Four monthssince he walked away from the Belmont campus for the last time, and yet so much has happened.
Two days after the ceremony, Teddy didn’t show up for a meeting. The new head of the Collaborative went to his house and found him.
Dead.
He had been dead for a whole day.
At first, the rumor was suicide. Next, a heart attack. Finally, murder.
Everyone went apeshit all over again. Maybe Ms.Marsha and Joe weren’t the Mad Scientists. Maybe the real killer was still out there, and the FBI and the police werestillincompetent. Around and around it went, though Zach hardly paid attention. He couldn’t do it a second time. Besides, he was a little busy doing his two hundred hours of community service. That was part of the plea deal for the bribery charge, but at least it wasn’t a felony. The advantage of having an expensive lawyer wasn’t lost on him.
The poison, however. That was different. Crushed rosary pea had been sprinkled all over the red velvet throw. Teddy wouldn’t have died so quickly if it hadn’t been for his cuticles. Open cuts brought the poison right into his bloodstream.
When Frank Maxwell was arrested for the murder, not only was everyone shocked, but they started saying it must be Belmont. Like the school was cursed. After all, Mr.Maxwell did have a breakdown while working there. And he had checked into a mental facility, against his will at first, before being released and becoming a minister.
He knew how to kill Teddy, but he didn’t have a clue about how to get away with it. Everyone at the memorial had a camera, and the whole ceremony was recorded by a professional. The FBI found footage of Mr.Maxwell taking something out of his pocket and fiddling with the cover on the memorial rock. Remnants of the crushed rosary pea were found in his garbage disposal.
The day he was arrested, Zach saw him on TV. Mr.Maxwell was handcuffed, being led into the police station, and he was smiling. Thesame smile he’d had at Fallon’s funeral, the one that had made Zach think he was high.
“My God,” Mom had said.
“It’s a good thing we took you out of that school,” Dad had said.
Zach had said nothing.
He should’ve been shocked, but the feeling never came. The past year had used up all the shock he had. Nothing was left.
He wasn’t even shocked when the FBI claimed that its agents had been investigating Crutcher. Zach didn’t believe it for a second. He bet that didn’t start seriously until after Crutcher died.
Nevertheless, they had released some of the evidence they’d gathered. Because Crutcher was dead and there would never be a trial, it didn’t matter if they showed footage from the cameras set up by Fallon outside his house and in his classroom. She finally got credit for her work.
But Crutcher’s computer records were the most damning. Fake emails to frame Ms.Marsha and Joe, not to mention the fake profiles. All young, all female. Crutcher had pretended to be a teenage girl online—and that, most of all, convinced everyone he had to be guilty. No normal man does that.
“Sick bastard,” Courtney had said.
Zach had said nothing.
Now he’s here, in Vermont, far away from all of it. Almost all of it.
His phone buzzes. Courtney.
“Hey, baby,” she says.
Zach smiles. “Hey, you.”
“How’s your room?”
“It’s amazing. Yours?” he asks.
“Fantastic. Have you met your roommate?”
“No, he’s not here yet. Hopefully, he’s cool.”
“Yeah. Mine seems like it.” He can hear her smiling. “Should we go explore?”
