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“I hate this school. I hate the teachers. I hate the staff.” Amanda bit the words out. “My parents wanted to send me to Jesuit or Catlin Gabel,” she said, naming two private schools in Portland’s western suburbs, “but I didn’t want to leave the Five Firsts.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Amanda snorted. “At least I can audition without having to worry that I’ll get behind in school. This place is a breeze.”
Is it? Delta had thought. Sure, some classes were fairly easy. She was good at English and history and even Earth science, but math didn’t come all that naturally. She’d had Bailey help her a time or two. Once, she’d even gotten up the nerve to ask Ellie for some help, and Ellie had grudgingly shown her a simpler way to come to the answer. Ellie was a whiz at everything.
Amanda was no slouch, either, but she was always busy. In those days, she had enjoyed auditioning. She’d been cast a lot as the blond, blue-eyed darling daughter. There’d been talk about moving to Los Angeles to try to get a national commercial, or maybe even a part in a film. But that had all disappeared as Amanda had become a teen, and now she was disgruntled and sort of fed up in that bohemian, “I’m too cool for this whole thing” way.
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p; Now Delta’s gaze searched out Tanner. She knew just where he was seated. She’d had a dark night of the soul after she’d learned that he’d been pulled from the river unconscious, and she’d nearly been out of her mind all the while he was in the hospital and she couldn’t get to him. She, Ellie, and Zora had been at the Forsythe home when Mr. and Mrs. Forsythe had returned from the beach, both of them white with shock, though Mr. Forsythe hadn’t held back, berating his wife for allowing the party in the first place. He accused her of trying too hard to be a cool mom to the high schoolers, and now she’d left them open to all kinds of lawsuits.
Delta had wrapped her foot in yards of toilet paper and called her parents. Her dad had swung by to pick her up at the same time Zora’s mom and Ellie’s mother and stepfather arrived. Delta had wanted to go straight to the hospital, but her dad had driven her home in a kind of quiet bewilderment. “What did you think you were doing?” he asked, as he helped her into the house, where Mom had gasped at her ravaged foot, then gone about cleaning out the cuts, slathering on some antibiotic cream and wrapping it in gauze and an Ace bandage. Delta had begged to have the car so she could go to the hospital, but her parents had said no. They did, however, call the Stahds, and Tanner’s stepmother had said that she would keep them informed.
She never did.
Delta awoke the next morning in a panic. She just knew if she didn’t see Tanner ASAP that something bad would happen to him. She couldn’t wear a shoe, so she didn’t. Just wrapped her Ace bandage around the whole of her foot and hobbled on it.
She talked her parents into borrowing the car and drove to the hospital. Directed to Tanner’s room, she was stunned to find Amanda there, chatting with Tanner’s dad and stepmom. His mother, who lived in Seattle and whom Delta had met only once, was just leaving the room. She made eye contact with Delta but didn’t seem to recognize her. Her skin was stretched tight, and she looked older than her years. When Delta moved into the room, she saw the current Mrs. Stahd, who was at least ten years younger than her predecessor and dressed in a tight blue dress with matching heels. She ignored Delta, her attention on Tanner, who apart from a bandage slung around his forehead looked well enough for Delta to release a huge sigh of relief.
But it was Amanda, standing in the room as if she owned the place, who really dealt Delta’s confidence and ego a serious blow. Everyone seemed to expect Delta to say something first, so she managed a “You look pretty good, considering,” directed at Tanner.
“Doesn’t he?” his stepmother said.
“Head injuries are nothing to fool with,” his father, Dr. Stahd, put in repressively.
“I agree,” said Amanda, regarding Tanner indulgently. “Your father knows best.”
When had they all become so chummy?
Tanner said, “Hurts like a bitch,” lifting a hand to his forehead.
“Let it be,” his dad ordered. “I don’t want them releasing you until we have further tests run.” His gaze settled on Amanda, and Delta tried to read his expression. He was angry, she realized, and no wonder. The accident had taken place on her parents’ property.
Lawsuits, Amanda’s father had spit at his wife.
Amanda, for all her smarts, seemed completely oblivious to this dynamic, but Delta saw it . . . and felt better.
And now, here they were, at the end of high school. The graduation ceremony was the period at the end of the sentence. There was no post-graduation party. The pig roast/barbecue debacle had been more than enough. Delta had heard that Coach Sutton’s job had been on the line, maybe still was. But he was here today in a suit that looked a bit too small for his growing girth, the shirt pinching his collar. Coach was sober as a judge and looked as if all the energy had been knocked out of him. Counselor Billings, on the other hand, was in her element. In a soft green dress, her blond hair upswept, showing off pearl earrings on her delicate earlobes, she looked fresh and lovely, and she stood by proudly as the class filed up for their awards. Mr. Timmons was there, too, and, near him, Ms. Reade. Neither of them seemed to be able to quite grasp the moment in the same way.
Delta’s gaze swept over Justin Penske, and she automatically searched for his friend, Brad Sumpter, who, like Justin, was a decent enough guy when he wasn’t influenced by the other “bros.” But when they were members of a pack, there wasn’t much to be said for them.
Brad turned her way, maybe feeling the weight of her stare.
Delta watched Tanner step lightly up the stairs. He’d been a little unsteady on his feet right after his head injury, and she knew he’d been worried about his balance. But he was more than okay. The whole student body and faculty and everyone who knew him seemed to have heaved a huge sigh of relief that he was going to be fine.
Delta’s gaze traveled to where she knew Amanda was seated. Amanda’s eyes were following Tanner as if they were magnetized. Delta’s simmering anger flared. She’d attempted to give Amanda a pass, thinking that maybe she was trying to make nice with the Stahds to help her family avoid a lawsuit, but Amanda was after Tanner. Delta wished Amanda would spontaneously combust and, poof, be off the planet. She sent her mental messages of doom.
Die, bitch, she thought, then immediately said silently to God, I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t mean it. I just want her to leave Tanner alone.
Then it was over, all of the classmates spilling outside onto the lawn. Earlier the temperature had been wonderfully warm, but now there was a chilly June breeze flitting around the soft night, suddenly surprising with a cold slap, if you weren’t careful.
Mr. Timmons was standing to one side with Ms. Reade. They were both in their thirties, unmarried, and maybe having an affair. The events of the barbeque seemed to have brought them together, but it was hard to really tell. Ms. Reade was slim and rawhide tough, as if she exercised herself into a bundle of stiff muscle on a regular basis. She had a sweet expression that belied her standoffish manner. Her eyes were on Miss Billings, who was talking with Principal Kiefer. Mr. Timmons, softer than Ms. Reade, in body and tone, possessed a brilliant smile and nice blue eyes. He was also looking at Counselor Billings, but Delta thought it was in a more admiring way. When Ms. Reade suddenly glanced back at him, he pretended to look away. Seeing Delta watching him, Mr. Timmons came her way.
Shit, thought Delta. No, she didn’t want to commune with the teachers. She wanted to be with Tanner. Where was he, anyway? She glanced around hurriedly, but then Mr. Timmons was there, blocking her way toward the parking lot, where everyone was heading.
“Congratulations, Delta, if I didn’t say so before. So, now, what are you planning? Rock Creek Community College, I hear?”
