CHAPTER 73
1143 Words
She'd lost her mind. That was the conclusion Cooper came to
when Calla told him her plan.
We've played this too safe, she told him at school that Thursday.
Four people are dead. And Vincent will be next if we don't do
something. Screw Ryan. Screw Astrid. And screw their agenda. Let's see how they like the pressure on their shoulders.
Insanity. That's what it was. And yet, the longer Cooper ruminated
on the idea, the more inclined he was to agree.
One way or another, this was all going to end, and soon. Either he
would die, or he would live.
Cooper really hoped he lived.
He had no idea if Calla's plan would even work. They'd discussed
it at length in their psych class while Mr. Prichard went to the
office for an emergency faculty-wide meeting. There were so many pieces, so many moving parts. What if Stephanie didn't do her part? What if Ryan and Astrid didn't fall for the trap?
What if they call your bluff, Calla?
He could still see the look in her eyes as she stared at him, her lips
pursed. The question had been more rhetorical than anything. He
hadn't expected her answer.
Then we go with Plan B, she'd told him, her voice low and cold. He never should have asked her what that meant. But he had, ignoring every alarm bell ringing in his head.
Plan B? What's Plan B?
Her answer had haunted him well into the night. In fact, it was the
only reason he was here now at Ryan Kane's house.
Calla's gonna kill me if she finds out I came here alone, he thought,
trying to talk himself back into his car and away from the lair of a
potential serial killer. But it's either this or Plan B.
Steeling himself, Cooper rapped on the door, three taps in quick
succession. And then he winced, waiting. He had no idea what he
was going to say. All he knew was that if he didn't find a way to
convince Calla that Ryan was innocent—if he didn't find a way to
convince himself —then Ryan was going to die.
Calla would kill him. She would kill them all.
Gareth. Astrid. Ryan. Her eyes boring into his soul, pulling him
down. Hell, Even Mike and Blake. Maybe Tom, too. All of
them. I'll just...kill them all. No more mystery.
You'll be safe. He'll be safe.
Was this love? If so, Cooper wanted no part in it.
Just when he'd convinced himself that no one was home, the door
cracked open. One dark, suspicious eye looked out at him through
the sliver of space. "Coop?"
"Hey. Uh, can I—"
He never got the rest out. Before he could blink, Ryan flung open
the door and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him inside.
The door slammed. The hand holding him by the shirt threw him
against a nearby coat hanger, burying Cooper in a pile of soft
cotton and starch leather. A hanger dug into his back, causing his
spine to ache in protest.
Ryan pushed his face close, close enough that Cooper could smell
a faint hint of cigarettes. His eyes darted around the room, but fear
dulled his senses. He couldn't seem to make out anything beyond
dark furniture, tacky rugs and that cigarette smell, stronger now
that he was hyperventilating.
"What," Ryan ground out slowly, through clenched teeth. "Do. You.
Want."
To live. Is that too much to ask?
"Uh." Cooper wriggled uncomfortably, trying to arch his back away from the coat hanger. "Right now? It'd be tight if you, uh, let go of me."
Ryan's bloodshot eyes never wavered. But it wasn't just the eyes
that gave Cooper pause. The other boy looked haggard, as if he
hadn't slept in days. Stubble grew in patches on his chin, his
cheeks. His mouth twisted in a hard line, the muscles in his jaw
fluttering.
Are their ghosts haunting you, the way they haunt me? Cooper
thought, his back screaming for release. Is that why you can't
sleep? Are you sorry you killed them?
He swallowed audibly, his hands slowly wrapping around Ryan's,
gently trying to pry them loose. "I, uh, just wanted to talk. About
what I said at school the other day. I know about the drugs—"
"Yeah. You made that clear. Why don't you—"
"Look," Cooper interjected, his voice hardening as a mix of desperation and manic determination took over. "People are dead.
And Vincent is next. And then me. So if you're going to do something, just do it now and get it over with. Because I can't sleep, and it's driving me crazy."
Ryan blinked at him. And then he blinked again, more slowly this
time, absorbing everything that had been said. "Dude. What ?"
He released Cooper and took a step back, wary now.
Cooper folded his arms. "I said what I said."
"But what you said makes no sense, " Ryan snapped, taking another
step back. He was halfway on the living room rug now, his body
angled. Preparing to bolt. As if Cooper were the dangerous one.
Ryan continued, making wild gestures with his hands. "Vincent's
next? Next for what? What the hell am I supposedly doing in this
situation, selling you a gram? Because I'm all out, dude. And
Vincent never told me he wanted to buy in—"
"Stop, stop," Cooper interrupted, putting up his hands. "We don't
want drugs."
The other boy put his hands on his head, his eyes wide and wild.
"Then what the hell do you want from me?" he shouted. "My
parents are already on my ass. I go to school, I come home. I go to
class, I keep my head down. I had to write Gareth's mom a letter of
apology, for God's sakes!"
He began walking in circles, his hands digging into his scalp. "I'm
lucky to not be in juvie right now, you know that?" he added,
miserable. "So I don't need guys like you coming around asking me
for shit."
"I'm not asking you for anything," Cooper argued, gesturing toward
the door. "But if this is really just about the drugs, Ryan, then why
is Detective Michaels watching your house?"
"How do you...?" Ryan stopped pacing, burying his face in his
hands. "Vincent. f**k ."
"Yeah. Vincent . He told me about the gala. Including the part where
you were there when Rachel died." Cooper's expression hardened,
his eyes narrowing.
He liked to think he looked like Calla in that moment. Fierce.
Intimidating. But he probably just looked constipated.
"I..." Ryan ran his hands up and down his face. "No. Oh, God. Man,
it's not like that. I deal coke on the side for cash, okay? I didn't kill
anybody!"
- Writer
