Reconstructing Amelia (33 page)

When I looked up, Heather and Bethany were passing by my desk. They strolled by arm in arm, mouthing the word
dyke
at me as they sashayed toward the door. All I could do was sit there and stare.

I felt like I’d slipped out of my body. As though I was standing there next to myself, shaking my head. How had I become this person? This person in the center of some stupid gossip shit storm? Because there’d been this other person, a person who would have never joined a club or chased a girl who didn’t want to get caught. Who never would have let herself get made a fool of.

A
RE YOU IN
NYC? I typed to Ben.

I sat there breathless, waiting for him, my exit strategy, to write back. It took forever for him to respond.

BEN

I’m in Times Square!! It’s so f-ing rad!! I LVE NYC!!!

AMELIA

When can you get to Bklyn?

BEN

Don’t know. Chances are I won’t be able to. U know I want to, but . . .

AMELIA

PLEASE. U Have to.

I typed out the address for Grace Hall. I added that I would understand if he couldn’t come. As much as I wanted him there, I didn’t want him to feel bad for having a good time with his dad. None of this was his fault or his problem. It wasn’t Sylvia’s either, as much as I’d been hoping she could maybe save me, too.

I
was the one who’d been stupid enough to join the Maggies.
I
was the one who’d put all that other stuff into the e-mail, even after Sylvia told me it was a bad, bad idea. Even when, deep down, I’d known she was right. And yet, deep down there in that very same spot, I was still praying there was some kind of magic explanation that made the e-mail getting out not Dylan’s fault.

“Amelia?” Liv asked.

I shook my head and looked up. I was so out of it that I was sitting there in the middle of class with my phone totally out in the open. It was one thing for Liv to ignore my sending one quick text, but I should’ve put my phone away. I didn’t want her to think I was taking advantage of her because we were, like, friends or whatever.

“Sorry,” I said, shoving my phone back into my bag. “It was just a message from my mom. She asked me to text her right back.”

Liv shook her head.

“It’s not about your phone.” She looked kind of sick as she sat down on the chair in front of me. For a second, I wanted so bad to tell her everything. “I’m afraid it’s about your
Lighthouse
paper.”

“I know what I wrote about wasn’t exactly what we talked about,” I said. I felt a little better talking about the paper. It made Dylan, the text—all of it—feel like this weird messed-up dream. “But I thought it would be okay as long as I did it, you know, well.”

Liv’s forehead wrinkled. “The subject of your paper isn’t the problem.”

“It wasn’t good?” There was no way she could say that.

“It was fine, Amelia. That’s not the issue either.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “It wasn’t
your
paper. That’s the problem.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I ran your paper through a program designed to catch duplication from published works. All the teachers at Grace Hall do. It’s mandatory, starting this year. In any case, your paper was flagged in numerous spots. The paper you handed in, Amelia, was plagiarized.”

“No, it wasn’t!” My heart was thumping. “I wrote that paper!”

Liv frowned, looked sad. For me.

“This isn’t like you, Amelia. I know it’s not,” she said, looking at me like she was willing me to confess. “If you tell me what happened, I’m sure we can work it out. But you have to start by telling me something.”

For a second, I thought maybe I was going crazy. That maybe I had lifted parts of somebody else’s paper and just didn’t remember doing it. Then it came to me: the Maggies. Of course, it was the Maggies. Bethany was Liv’s assistant. She must have switched my paper somehow.

But how could I tell Liv that? They’d—Zadie—had said they’d torture Sylvia, ruin her life if I did. I knew, firsthand, how bad the Maggie torturing could be. Sylvia would never survive it. And after everything she’d done—especially how much she’d been there for me, despite what a shitty friend I’d been—I couldn’t throw Sylvia under the bus. I’d just have to take it. Let the world think I was a cheater.

“I want to see it,” I said. “The parts where I copied.”

“Okay, Amelia,” Liv said gently, getting up to retrieve the paper.

She came back with a stapled set of pages. My name was on it, but otherwise, it wasn’t my paper. Not even the title. I flipped through the pages, staring down at them. Sections were highlighted, shaded as if by a computer program, their real source typed in the margins.

Texting my private love letters to the whole school hadn’t been enough? Zadie had needed to do this, too? It felt like somebody had carved a hole clean through the center of my body. Like there was nothing in the middle of me now but empty space. And yet, somehow, I was still upright.

“Amelia,
please
tell me what’s going on,” Liv said. “If you can’t give me an explanation, I’ll have to report this to Mr. Woodhouse, as a violation of the code of conduct. I don’t want to do that, believe me. But I’ll lose my job if I don’t. If you explain, maybe I can find a way out of this, for both of us. This isn’t you, Amelia. I know it isn’t. Amelia, look at me.”

I just shook my head and kept staring down. This was it. The Maggies had finally won. Zadie had wanted to ruin my life, and so she had. Now all that was left was to accept defeat. To lie down on the classroom floor and wait for them to carry my lifeless body away.

Amelia

OCTOBER 24, 12:02 PM

AMELIA

please tell me you are on ur way

BEN

not looking good, but still trying.

AMELIA

please, please, I need you.

BEN

I’m trying . . .

AMELIA

that’s it? trying? I say I need you here and that’s it? WTF? now you’re lying, too?

BEN

whoa, lying? I said I would try; that’s all I said. I can’t tell my dad to fuck off

AMELIA

sorry, u r right; bad shit going down

BEN

what?

AMELIA

maggies messed with my English paper; they’re saying I cheated

BEN

how did they mess with it?

AMELIA

IDK

BEN

screw those bitches; I wish I could be there to help

AMELIA

I don’t want you to get in trouble with ur dad.

BEN

you’re more important than my dad getting a little pissed; you’re more important than most things

AMELIA

Thanks :). I needed that.

facebook

OCTOBER 24

Amelia Baron

“Alone, condemned, deserted, as those who are about to die are alone, there was a luxury in it, an isolation full of sublimity; a freedom which the attached can never know.” Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Kate

OCTOBER 19, 1997, 3:56 AM

To:
Kate Baron

From:
[email protected]

Subject:
One Last Try . . .

Hi Katie,

Thought I’d throw one last shout out before I head to the hinterlands . . . Hope you’re okay. And don’t worry, I’m not going to go all stalkerish and weird if you don’t write back. I get it, totally. Just hang easy and be safe. And if you ever find yourself over on this side of the world, look me up.

I’ll be keeping an eye out, and the light on.

peace,

Rowan

OCTOBER 20, 1997, 9:15 AM

To:
[email protected]

From:
Kate Baron

Re:
One Last Try . . .

Rowan,

I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. But thank you for writing. I’ve loved talking to you and meeting you. But something’s happened in my life. Something unexpected. Anyway, it’s changed things for me. I need to take some time out, and just focus on me for a while.

I wish you the best of everything. You’re a great spirit. And I feel lucky that I had the chance to know you.

Xo,

Katie

Kate

NOVEMBER 29

Kate sat down on a damp park bench across the street from 968 Fifth Avenue. It was dark, past eight p.m. Maybe it wasn’t the safest place to sit alone, there along the edge of the park at night, but it was out of sight and had a good view of the building’s entrance. Kate still wasn’t sure what she planned to do. Though she had known when Lew left with instructions for her to stay home that she would almost certainly be disappointing him again.

A few minutes later, Kate was crossing the street, and a tall, elegant doorman was waving her inside the lobby, making her think for a second that maybe she’d be able to head straight upstairs without having to explain herself to anybody. It was short-lived.

“What apartment?” the doorman asked, effortlessly circling Kate to a stop as he headed toward the phone.

“Oh.” Kate felt herself looking guilty. “Six C?”

The doorman squinted at her as he picked up the phone and punched some numbers. “Name?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your
name.
” The doorman drew the word out. He looked as if he were already considering tossing her back out onto the street.

Maybe that would have been for the best. Because what was Kate’s plan exactly once she got upstairs? To demand to see this Ben kid? What would she do when they said there was no Ben who lived there? Not that it mattered. The second the doorman reached whoever lived in 6C and learned that they had no idea who she was, she wasn’t going to be going anywhere but home.

“Kate Baron.” She smiled hard. “That’s my name, Kate Baron.”

The doorman didn’t seem persuaded by her newfound confidence. His eyes stayed on Kate as he announced her to whoever had picked up on the other end.

“Okay,” he said, looking down. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Kate held her breath waiting to endure the humiliation of being turned away. But it would be a relief, too, in a way. Fate intervening to save her from herself. Instead, the doorman pointed toward the back of the lobby.

“Take the last elevator.”

Kate’s heart was pounding as the gilded elevator doors opened onto a luxurious hallway. When she stepped off, there was a polished sideboard with a huge gold-leaf mirror above it. Kate caught sight of her reflection. Her face was gray and drawn, the color washed out from her hair. How long had she been in such an obvious state of decay? Since Amelia’s death? Longer?

Maybe her grief had eaten through her brain, too, because this was wrong—what she was doing—showing up at this Ben’s address. She had once been a rational person. Deep down, she still was. She knew that the apartment being exceptionally nice did not preclude the possibility that it housed a psychopath. Kate needed Lew. She had no business there. None. It was disruptive and pointless.

Kate turned around and pressed the Down button. Luckily, the elevator doors sprang right back open. She was about to step on when she heard the apartment door.

“Kate?” a woman’s voice called down the hall. “Where are you going?”

When Kate turned, there was Vera standing at the end of the long hall, looking fit and muscular in a tank top and yoga pants, her long black hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She padded in bare feet down the hallway toward Kate. Her strong, beautiful jaw was tilted to the side, her huge brown eyes narrowed in concern.

Vera. Jeremy. Their new apartment. The one that Kate had never been to.

The texts had come from one of Jeremy’s sons. Amelia could have easily met one of them somewhere. The world of Manhattan and Brooklyn private schools wasn’t that large. They could have even crossed paths at the firm picnic the year before. But why would one of Jeremy’s sons have lied about who he was?

“Are you okay, honey?” Vera asked gently. She was right in front of Kate now, her hand on Kate’s forearm.

Kate nodded too hard and for too long. Kate couldn’t recall Jeremy ever mentioning that any of his sons was gay, but maybe he wouldn’t have. Or, like Kate, he didn’t know.

“I’ve got to be honest, you don’t look so great,” Vera said, ushering Kate toward their apartment. “Come inside and sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Vera pushed open the door, and they stepped into the vast living room. A huge wall of windows overlooked the darkness of the park and, in the distance beyond, the lights of the Upper West Side. There was a fireplace to one end separating off a huge dining room and a grand piano at the other. In between, there was enough space to play basketball and about half the amount of furniture to adequately fill it.

“Come, let’s sit in the kitchen,” Vera said. “It’s cozier in there. Out here is still a work in progress.”

“I’d forgotten that you’d moved,” Kate said, as she sat down on one of the stools alongside the huge granite island in the suburban-size kitchen.

She didn’t know if she could do this, talk to Vera. She didn’t know whether Vera had read
insidethelaw
or, if she had, whether she’d connected it with Kate.

“You know, sometimes I wish I could forget we moved, too,” Vera said. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but sometimes big is just too big. Jeremy!” She lifted her chin to yell, then smiled back down at Kate. “He went to go change. He’ll be right back.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to have disturbed you,” Kate said. Her voice was not much louder than a whisper. It was hard to speak with her throat clenched so tight. “I know it’s getting late.”

“Please,” Vera said, waving a hand. “Considering how late Jeremy makes all of you work, it’s good for him to get disturbed once in a while.”

“Thank you for the water,” Kate said, hoping to move the conversation away from Jeremy. She wanted to leave the apartment immediately, but she couldn’t begin to formulate an excuse for why she was there, much less for why she suddenly had to leave. “I was feeling a little light-headed.”

“I’m not surprised,” Vera said. “When Jeremy told me you were back at work already—” She made a motion of zipping her lips. “Wait, sorry, no, I should mind my own business. The boys are always telling me that I’m the mother hen who pecks people to death. So I’m going to try to keep my mouth shut. Just make sure you don’t overdue it. And that’s coming from a woman who ran a half marathon six-weeks postpartum and then argued a motion in the Second Circuit the next day. Distraction is the best medicine. I get that approach.” She paused, looked sad. “But some things you can’t outrun, no matter how fast you move your legs.”

Jeremy appeared in the doorway then. He was pale.
Stop it
, Kate wanted to shout at him.
You look guilty.

“I’ve got a late Bikram class with my name on it,” Vera said. “You’ll be okay here, just the two of you?”

Kate tensed for a second, but Jeremy moved quickly to fill the awkward gap.

“Yes, go, go,” he said, kissing Vera. “Kate just needs my signature on something.”

Vera seemed to accept this, even though Kate had turned up at their apartment empty-handed. Vera patted Kate on the hand as she headed toward the door.

“You take care of yourself,” she said. “And try to take your time. Work will always be there.”

When Vera was gone, Jeremy headed back out to the living room. He poured himself a short drink at the bar along the wall near the open kitchen. Whiskey or scotch, something amber. He offered a glass to Kate, but she waved it off. He flopped down hard on the couch, resting his head against a hand. He took a few loud breaths.

“She doesn’t know yet?” Kate asked.

“I wasn’t entirely sure until now.” Jeremy shook his head. “She’d been acting a little strange, at least I thought she was. I must have been imagining it. Unless she’s planning on coming back with a gun.”

Kate stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m joking,” Jeremy said.

“That’s hilarious,” Kate said flatly.

He shrugged. “Can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Kate set herself down on the edge of a huge round ottoman-cum-coffee-table that she wasn’t sure was even for sitting.

“I didn’t even know this was your house,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy finished what was left in his glass and set it down on the end table. “You just happened to knock on our apartment door?”

“I came here, to this apartment, on purpose,” Kate said. “I just didn’t know who lived here.”

She was still trying to make sense of it all. If one of Jeremy’s sons had been pretending to be Ben, that meant that he also might—at least theoretically—have had something to do with what had happened to Amelia on that roof. How was Kate going to tell Jeremy about one of his sons being Ben without it sounding as if she was accusing his child of hurting, maybe even killing, hers? That wasn’t really what she thought anyway. She believed that the Maggies were responsible. Still, as Lew had said, Ben—whoever he really was—had lied. Kate needed to know why.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Kate,” Jeremy said. He sounded and looked exhausted. “Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

“There was a boy Amelia was friends with,” she began carefully. “Supposedly, another applicant to that Princeton summer program. Their friendship was mostly texts and e-mails, that kind of thing. It seems as if they were close. We’ve been trying to track him down.” She moved quickly to clarify. “Not because he might have done something wrong, but because he might know something. He told Amelia that he lived in Albany and that his name was Ben, but the police traced the text messages.” Kate paused, took a breath. “He lives here, Jeremy, in this apartment. One of your sons must have sent the messages to Amelia.”

Jeremy closed his eyes and dropped his head again, this time into both hands. He sat there like that for a moment, not moving. Finally, he started shaking his head back and forth. Was he really going to argue? Claim that it couldn’t be one of his sons. Maybe he had misunderstood. Kate’s disclaimers aside, maybe he thought she was accusing one of his sons of doing something terrible.

“Jeremy, I’m not saying that they did anything wrong. Ben was a good friend to Amelia. A really good—”

“It wasn’t one of the boys,” Jeremy said quietly. When he looked up from the floor, his eyes were glassy. “It was me.”

“What?” Kate snapped, jumping to her feet. “What are you talking about?”

“I wrote to Amelia.
I
was Ben, Kate.”

“No.” Kate shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Because there were a lot of explanations for a lot of things, but there was only one reason a grown man corresponded with a young girl online, then lied about who he was. “No.”

Kate thought then about how she and Amelia had run into Jeremy at the office one Saturday not long ago. How he’d seemed so peculiarly interested in Amelia, staring at her so intently, marveling at how grown up she was. Kate had written it off at the time as Jeremy just trying to seem
interested
, in general. Now the thought made her sick.

“I shouldn’t have lied to her.” Jeremy went on, more quietly now. He looked down, shaking his head. “That was wrong. But I just— When I was writing that recommendation for Princeton, I spent all this time thinking about Amelia and this amazing person she had become. I wanted the chance to get to know her, at least a little bit, and I thought maybe I could do it without costing anyone anything. I already had her e-mail address from writing the recommendation. All I had to do was set up an e-mail account in a kid’s name, get a voice account with an Albany area code, and invent a little backstory, and that was that. Maybe it was selfish, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Couldn’t help yourself?!” Kate’s voice shook. Her face was on fire. She was trying to keep herself from jumping to that most awful, inevitable conclusion. But it was no use. Her mind had already raced there. “She was my
daughter
, Jeremy. She was a
child
.”

“Wait a second, Kate.” Jeremy was ashen, his eyes panicky. “You don’t think that—there’s an explana—”

“No. You can’t charm your way out of this. I won’t let you. Is this how you stay such a good husband these days?” Kate shouted, pointing a finger at Jeremy. “You text teenage girls instead of sleeping with grown women? Or are the texts just the beginning? Were you really planning on meeting Amelia?”

“Kate, come on, that’s ridicu—”

“What did you do to her, you bastard?!” Kate screamed, charging at Jeremy.

“
Do to her?
Are you crazy?! I was trying to help her!” Jeremy raised his hands to protect his face. “Anyway, I never even saw her. I mean— I, I thought about seeing her, telling her the truth. But I knew it wasn’t my place to make that decision, so I became her friend instead. Why do you think I told her I was
gay
? I wanted to make sure there couldn’t be anything weird. Not that it ended up mattering anyway, after Dylan and everything. I was just glad I could be there for her with all that Magpie nonsense going on.”

“Oh my God. You
knew
.” Kate felt like she was going to be sick. “You fucking— She told you what those girls were doing to her, and you didn’t stop it? You could have told
someone
. You could have done
something
.”

“You’re acting like that would have been so simple. Everything would have come out, Kate. You obviously didn’t want that either. You wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to hide the truth.” Jeremy seemed angry now, too.
The truth
, it was the second time he’d said that. What it meant, Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “Anyway, I did think about telling you when things with those girls started getting out of hand. But before I did, it seemed like Amelia had worked everything out on her own. She told me she was fine. And then, all of a sudden on that last day—” He looked down. “Now, with what happened—Kate, you don’t know how much I wish I’d done something.”

“Did you go see Amelia that day?” Kate asked, bracing herself. Jeremy had lied about so much. There could be more. There could be something more awful than she could possibly imagine. “You said you were going to in your texts.”

“No, Kate, for
the second time
,” Jeremy said. There was no anger in his voice anymore, only resignation. He knew exactly what she was accusing him of, and he seemed utterly defeated. “I was with three associates in the office all day. You can check if you want. Anyway, I thought you read her texts. In the end, I said I wasn’t coming.”