I and Matthew share a frightening gaze. Now my heart is pounding hard. I know this is about what that man structure said from the news this morning. God, why am I so scared when I did nothing wrong? Weirdly, we all stand up at the same time. I thought I was having it badly, but not until I saw Alisyn in a hoodie that would contain four more people with a body like hers. Her hair is all messed up. I haven't seen Alisyn's hair tangled before. Her head is down, probably ashamed, and her hands are buried inside the pocket of her hoodie. Jeremy is the first to leave, then I and Matthew follow. I meet Mr. Langford standing beside the principal's door. He holds my hand and waits for Matthew to step in first. "Listen carefully…" he pauses, looking over my shoulder, when I look behind me, I see Alisyn. Her face is down and she's walking like a snail. He even waits for Alisyn to step inside first before he continues. "Don't say anything that's needed to say. If you're asked why you were at Zack's house, keep insisting that he called you to come over. Am I clear?" He says. Insisting? That's what happened.
"Mmhmm," I mumble.
"Say it," he commands.
"Yes sir," I reply and he lets go of my hand.
I step inside. Surprisingly, four chairs have been positioned in front of Principal Casablanca's desk, of which three have been taken by Alisyn, Matthew, and Jeremy, leaving one empty seat for me. A pat on my shoulder. I look beside me and see Principal Casablanca. "I'll be outside," she says and steps out of the office. Wait…I thought she was…I look forward to the principal's seat and I see the brunette from the news this morning. Her skin is so white like someone who is suffering from anemia, but yet, it's smooth and fresh. Her hair sparks so brightly, the light in the room reflects on top of it. Her coffee eyes remind me of Zack. But with all this beautiful quality she possesses, she still looks scary, with tight-lipped and squinted eyes that bring furrow lines. She looks more elegant in person. I take a deep breath and approach my seat. She inspects our faces for a few seconds, then she sighs and places her lock fingers on the desk.
"I'm Detective Chrome, and I suppose you all know why you're here," she says.
"Not really," Alisyn says, tackling her hands inside the pocket of her hoodie.
She sighs and sucks her teeth. "Well, I'm in charge of the investigation concerning Zack Freeman's death. I heard you all were his friends," she says.
"Says who?" Jeremy asks, and I flare at him.
"What? Are you saying you are not a friend of his?"
"No. I was just asking a simple question, cause you see, everybody was Zack's friend," Jeremy replies.
"Hmmm. I also heard that. But because the four of you were at his home the night he died tells how close you were," she says. Jeremy smiles slightly. "How about we do this one after the other," she says, and my heart skips.
This is like interrogating a criminal, except we are in school. "We'll start from…" She runs a pen through a file she's holding, "Alisyn Weather…who's that?" She asks, looking at us.
Weather. Interesting.
"It's Wealth, not Weather," Alisyn says to her with a glare.
"Guess that's you. The rest of you should please step out," She says and the three of us step out of the office leaving Alisyn alone with her.
NARRATOR.Alisyn wasn't this scared when the others were in the office. Even though she knows she wasn't the killer, she has her secrets, secrets she hopes the detective doesn't get out of her.
"How was your relationship with Zack?"
"It was good," Alisyn says at once.
"Really?" The detective locks her fingers on the table, giving Alisyn a skeptical look. Alisyn's heart starts to pound. "I heard you were known as the wealthiest girl in school before Zack arrived."
Alisyn wonders where she gets her information from. Has she been going around asking people about her? "Mmhmm," she mutters.
"And Zack beat you to it. Was that the reason you hated him?" She asks.
Alisyn's eyes go wide. "Wha…what? I never hated Zack!" She yells.
"Oh, so you are saying you didn't smash the window of his brand-new porch?"
Alisyn is shocked because nobody knew about it except the boys she hired to do so. "That was…" she let out a breath, "That was way before…"
"Before what? Before you started dating him?"
Alisyn's heart stops beating for a few seconds. She wonders who the detective is, and how she knows stuff that nobody else does. "What?! No! I never dated Zack, you can ask anybody." Alisyn knows there isn't evidence to prove her relationship with Zack, so she's comfortable with the lie.
"Okay." The detective jots down. "Then what were you doing at his house that night?"
Alisyn is a fast thinker, but she can't come up with anything. "Uhmm…"
"You're thinking about it?" The detective says as she puts something on her file.
"It's been long, I can't seem to remember." Alisyn lies.
"It's been three days." The detective looks at Alisyn with skeptical eyes.
"Oh, I remember. I wanted to check up on him. His parents weren't around, so…" she shrugs her shoulders.
The detective nods and smiles, which is not so comforting for Alisyn. "So you were at his house to check up on him, right?"
"Mmhmm," Alisyn nods, trying to maintain a neutral face.
"Tell me about it, your Experience that night."
Alisyn's face goes sullen as she pictures Zack lying lifelessly in his pool of blood. She feels guilty. Maybe if she had stayed with Zack after the party as Zack wanted her to, maybe Zack would still be alive. Or…Maybe Zack's killer would have murdered them both. Should she be grateful or blameful? Either way, she's sad about Zack's death. "After the party, I went home. I couldn't sleep at night knowing Zack was all alone. So I decided to go spend the night with him…"
"As a friend, right?" The detective cuts in.
Alisyn's face twitches. "Yes."
"Did you inform your parents before leaving the house?" The detective asks.
"No, I didn't. I didn't think it was important."
"You didn't think it was important to tell your parents before leaving the house in the middle of the night?!" The detective goes ablaze. She feels like Alisyn is a spoiled child, and she doesn't believe a word she says. Alisyn's heart skips. Her eyes start to well up. "I'm sorry. Go on," the detective says.
Alisyn gulps. "When I got to his house, the door was open, but everywhere was dark. I turn on my phone's flashlight. I was scared, so I plod inside calling him. But when I got to a certain point, I saw…" Tears pour out of Alisyn's eyes as she pictures Zack lying dead on the floor. She covers her mouth with both palms and sobs. Detective Chrome offers her a tissue and Alisyn sneezes into it. "I saw Zack lying on the floor, with blood splashing out of his head." Alisyn sniffs. "Matthew was next to him."
"Matthew Johnson?" The detective asks Curiously, and Alisyn nods. "Thank you, Miss Weather," the Detective says, but Alisyn glares at the detective with her moist eyes.
"I mean, Wealth. If I have any more questions for you I'll let you know. For now, you are good to go." Both she and the Detective stand up, Alisyn doesn't wait a second before stepping out of the room, she prays she never speaks to the detective again. The detective doesn't think Alisyn killed Zack, But she's not supposed to let her emotions cloud her judgment, all she needs is evidence to catch the murderer.
JEREMY OSCAR.
I can spot the resemblance on her face. The dark hair, round face, the eyes…maybe that's because I know who she is.
"Jeremy Oscar. Ex-convict, murderer, sociopath, and a heartless weirdo," she reads from her file.
"You know that's just one crime, right?" I say.
"People don't consider it so," she says as she closes the file, staring at me as if my face fascinates her.
"It's easy to believe you murdered Zack," she says.
"And yet, It's damn hard to prove," I say nonchalantly.
She smirks. "I wonder what he saw in you," She mutters. I wondered that too, but now I know. There were so many ways Zack could have prevented this calamity that befall him, yet he was so stubborn. If only he had listened to me.
"That makes the both of us," I say.
She smirks, nodding her head. "I heard you are fond of taking the blame for people you love," she says.
One thing I've noticed is, She's way smarter than Zack. "Then I think you get your information from the right source. Did whosoever also tell you I hate people who know things they aren't supposed to know about me?"
She smiles. "It's sweet. Threats to me are like mayflies, they only scare me for a few minutes," she says.
"Good! I hope you make the right decisions within those few minutes."
"Hmmmm," she mutters. "Is this how you talk to your friends?" She asks.
I furrow my brows. "You ain't my friend, I see no reason why you're asking me that?"
"What about Mikaela? You both were like peanut butter and jelly, but yet you ended her," she says.
Who said peanut butter and jelly always go together? And no matter how bad she has made me feel by mentioning Kaela's name, I still need to play strong. I sit up and fold my hands on my chest, making sure our eyes are glued together."We're like Ice and water, minerals and rocks, bricks and blocks…but things happen…"
"You see…" she places her locked fingers on the desk as she leans forward."I don't think you did it," She adds. The lights twitch, just as my heart does. That was supposed to make me feel better, but it only makes me a little scared. I tilt my head as I gulp.
"It doesn't matter what you think," I say and fall back to the chair.
"I think it does," she utters as she opens her file and flips through it.
"I'm planning to reopen the case," she says. Heavy wind blasts through the window, yet everywhere is hot as hell. She could be worse than my mom, and I can only tolerate my mother's level of madness.I can feel my face swelling like it's about to explode
"You can't actually do that…" I read her with a squinted eye. "Or can you?" I ask.
"What? Scared? There's nothing to worry about if you are responsible for her death. I mean, you've been arrested for that," she says. I can tell she knows something, but how? She hasn't been in town for like twelve years but yet she knows.
"What do you want?" Maybe, just maybe she's now the new gamer, and I'm just a player.
"Tell me who killed Zack!" Her voice comes out loud and coarse.
"I don't know," I tell her. She glares at me, fuming like an angry Bird. I've never felt this scared since Mikaela's death. I wonder what lengths she would go to catch Zack's murderer. "I swear." But yet, that doesn't stop me from lying.
She takes a deep breath and relaxes her nerves."Then I guess…" she swallows, "You won't be able to protect your loved ones…or should I say, loved one?"
Five years eating rotten junk. Five years of being bullied like some kind of garbage, five years of witnessing suicide, homicide, and death after death. Five years spent with that psycho. Damn! I'm not gonna let that go down the drain just like that. "You have to trust me. Zack only informed me that he will be meeting with you that night, and he is going to find out the truth." I cannot believe how stubborn I can be.
"Truth about what?"
"I have no idea." She falls on her palm. I know she's in pain, but I can't, I just can't. "From what it seems, I think you know more about what happened that night," I say and she raises her head. Her face has suddenly gone red.
"What?" She seems lost.
"You are the last person to see him alive weren't you?" I say, trying to push her focus off of me.
"No. No, I never saw him," she adds, not being able to maintain a steady eye contact. I can tell she's lying, but that's okay. It means I have something on her too.
"Then I guess we both know nothing," I tell her. Just like I expected, she nods. I stand up and head to the door. I open it, but before I step out, I turn to her, "and Mikaela stays in the past," I tell her, and her slight nod is as if it was forced on her. Nevertheless, we both agreed on it, and I don't have to be all bothered.
NARRATOR.
Matthew walks into the office, shivering with fear on the inside. He was the first person that arrived at Zack's house that night. He probably knows what happened, or maybe he partook in it. "Matthew Johnson. Son of a drug dealer, and an ex-convict. Sick grandmother, and a frustrated mother," She outlines.
Matthew jew clenches. "My mother is just fine," he says.
"Oh, this isn't my handwriting." She shows the file to Matthew.
Matthew glares at it. "Oh it ain't, I see," says Matthew, and Detective Chrome forces a smile.
"Were you and Zack close?" She asks.
Matthew exhales. "No," he says without a second thought.
"Really? Then why did he pay you such a huge amount of money just for bartending?"
"Because he's that way. Generous and thoughtful," Matthew says, gulping his saliva.
Detective Chrome squints her eyes and tilts her head. "How do you know that when you aren't close to him?" She asks with suspicion.
"Uhmm…" Matthew gulps again. "Well, I could tell from a distance. Zack was cheerful and kind," he says as if he means it.
Detective Chrome feels emotional, but she tries not to show it. "He was," she says. "Why were you at his house that night?" Matthew falls silent, blank staring at the desk like he's having a flashback. "Mr. Johnson?" Detective Chrome calls him but he doesn't respond. "Mr. Johnson?" She calls again, hitting the desk next to his hand but Matthew is lost in his thoughts. "Matthew." She taps him on his hand, and Matthew raises his head at her like he was there all along.
"There was an emergency at home, and I needed the money," Matthew says.
"What Money?" Detective Chrome pays her full attention to Matthew.
"The five thousand dollars," Matthew says.
"From the Bartending?" Detective Chrome asks.
"Uhmm, yeah, yes of course, from the Bartending," Matthew says, fidgeting on the inside.
"So? What happened? Detective Chrome yarns for more.
Matthew exhales again and falls on his palm. "I don't know," he says.
"Matthew, What Happened?!" She asks with authority.
"I went there and I found him dead, Ok?! Shit!" He smacks the table.
There is a peaceful silence, which lasts for a while. "Did you notice anything from the party?" Detective Chrome breaks the silence.
"No. He was as cheerful and crazy as he had always been. No one would have ever thought that would be his last party."
"So you never got the money?" Detective Chrome asks.
Matthew becomes short of words. "No, no. I never did," he says. At times, lies can be so comforting.
Detective Chrome nods severally. "Okay. Then I guess we are done here," he tells Matthew. Matthew feels like a heavy rock has been lifted from him, and he quickly stands up and scampers to the door. Just as Matthew is about to step out of the office, "Mr. Johnson," She calls, and Matthew's heart pounds hard, and he slowly turns to her. "One thing I hate more than my job is lies, and it will be terrible for anyone who tells it to my face," she tells him. Matthew is unable to maintain a steady heartbeat. His cheeks twitch and he gets out of the office as quickly as he could.
ARIANNA.
I can't even imagine myself killing Zack, it's my top five things I can never think of doing. "I'm not supposed to be here," I tell Detective Chrome or whatever she calls herself.
"Why?" She asks, looking directly into my eyes. She's a detective, I get it. Basically, her job is to suspect everyone and anyone. But she knows nothing about Zack because if she does, she'll know she is wasting her time suspecting the wrong people.
"Zack and I were like…"
"Two fishes in one pond?" She butts in. No, we are like Hermione and Harry Potter. Nothing can ever come between us.
I nod slightly. "I can swear to you, I didn't kill Zack," I say. Saying this makes me want to puke till my mouth bleeds out.
"Oh dear, I never said you did," She says. I wish that would make me feel relieved, but it doesn't, because from the look in her eyes she suspects me.
"I just want to know, why were you at his house that night?" She asks.
I'm glad there's something that can prove my innocence. I quickly bring out my phone from my backpack, I unlock it and hand it over to her. "Here. Zack called and texted me, you can check it yourself." She looks at me skeptically before taking the phone from me. I watch her scroll through my phone. She raises her head, looking at me like I've gone crazy or like I've just been discharged from a psychiatric hospital.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"There are no text messages here or calls from on the 14 of March," she says.
"What?" I exclaim as I take the phone from her, scrolling through all of my text messages from the beginning of the year, but apparently, there aren't any from the 14 of March. "No. No, I swear, he texted me. It was here this morning. I even showed it to…" then it hits me… Mr. Langford had deleted it. But…why?
"Do you have any more lies you would like to spit out?"
That was the only evidence I had, and it's gone, what does that mean for me? "No. But I think you don't know how to do your job," I tell her nonchalantly. Her eyes grow wide. " I don't blame you. You didn't even know anything about the Victim."
"Say who?" She asks. "I know Zack's best food was tacos with ketchup. I know Zack likes to party every Friday night. I know he didn't date but hooked up with different girls. I know he was an easygoing person who didn't have enemies. I know he kept failing literature tests, but that's only because he was taking the class because of you. I know he would do anything for the people he cares about…so don't you sit there and accuse me of not knowing anything about my son." Her eyes well up, and mine bulge out. She picks up a tissue and gently wipes the under of her eyes.
"What do you mean by your son?" I ask, confused and shocked.
"I'm Helena Chrome, Zack's biological mother," she tells me. I think I've fainted, I don't know, but one thing is for sure, something in me just broke down. When people die, their secrets don't always die with them. You start to hear rumors about their lives, rumors that are hard to believe. And you start to find out that the person you knew so well is just a passing stranger. I could swear that there was nothing I didn't know about Zack, right from the scent of his body spray to the color of his underpants.
I smirk. "Do you expect me to believe that?"
She sucks her teeth. "I know it's painful when a best friend keeps a huge part of themselves a secret, it makes you look like a fool." No. It makes you want to kill that person, too bad he's already dead.
"What?!" I exclaim, finding it hard to believe.
"You shouldn't blame him though, he just found out last month, and I was really looking forward to meeting him…" she inhales. "I swear to you Arianna, I'll get whoever took my boy away from me, by all means necessary…" She sounds terrifying. I cannot imagine the length she would go. The anguish of a mother is the most terrifying thing you can ever witness.
"What if, what if you aren't able to? Then what…?"
"Then someone has to go down for it," she falls back on the chair, swirling it from right to left, holding a pen with both fingertips. I can tell she means every word that comes out of that mouth of hers, whether it be good or bad, which scares me. What exactly will she do to avenge Zack's death?
"Am I free to go?" I ask.
"Yeah."
I stand up from the chair, as I turn to leave, "For now," she adds. I look at her in the eyes, and all I can see is threats upon threats. I hope she doesn't turn out to be a nightmare. I don't like that face showing up in my dreams. I take my leave. Throughout the rest of the class, I keep thinking about Zack's secret. How could he keep such a thing from me? Do I even know him? Was I really his best friend? God, how could he?
I walk back home. I don't care about being home alone anymore. As a matter of fact, I'm fully ready to face Jeremy, whenever and wherever. I lie on my bed and pick up Mikaela's copy of Harry Potter. I flip to page seven.
"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape, after a while
"Here – let me help you –"
He turned his wan on Harry so fast that Harry react instinctively; all thoughts of non-verbal spells forgotten, he yelled "Protego!"
His shield charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling. "Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes, sir."
"There's no need to call me sir, professor."
The vrooming sound of a bike distracts me. I close the book and look outside from my window and watch as Jeremy removes his helmet and rakes his fingers through his luscious hair. How did he grow so fast? How did we become teenagers in just a few years? I can vividly remember him dragging a swing seat with Matthew in his backyard, and those times he sneaks to the bathroom and spits out all of the strawberry candies I gave to him. Funny how things could go from perfect to despicable in just one second. How did he become a killer? And why? But if he's the one who murdered Zack, I don't trust the action I'll take toward him. I climb out of my bed and hurry downstairs. I get out, "JEREMY!" I yell before he opens the door. He turns to me. Five meters apart, I can see how surprised he is. I take a deep breath before proceeding toward him. I know how much trouble I'll be in if I'm caught by Mr. Langford, but still, I need to face my fear eyeball to eyeball and see what comes out of it. "I'll just go straight to the point," I tell him. It does feel awkward standing this close to him, but that doesn't mean it doesn't feel good. "Are you the one who killed Zack?" He looks me in the eye, which makes me feel a little uncomfortable.
"I'm proud of you," he says and I furrow my brows.