The Graduation (15 page)

Her eyes never left his. They were a little red, but they were still pretty eyes. He had always thought so.

“I love you,” she said.

He looked down at the note, shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He really didn’t. Jessica couldn’t love him. Only Alice had loved him.

“I’ve loved you for a long time.” A tear formed in the corner of her left eye. It was a quiet tear, not like the ones of a minute ago. “I just wanted you to know.”

He closed the yearbook and stood. “I have to go.”

“OK. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.” He made it to the door, had his hand on the knob again. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked, his back to her.

“I was afraid.”

He understood that fear. He asked anyway “Why?”

“Alice didn’t want me to meet you. She didn’t think I was good enough for you.”

Michael turned to face her. She had lowered her head, hiding her face behind her long curtain of hair. “That’s not true.”

She nodded sadly. “It is.”

He returned to the bed, to her side. She was crying softly. Setting down his yearbook, he put his arms around her. “The first day I met you,” he said, “Alice came to visit me in the computer room during fourth period. She had to leave the campus at lunch to see her doctor, but she told me about this wonderful girl she wanted to introduce me to at the football game. She didn’t tell me her name, but that night, when I went to the game and spoke to you, I realized you were the girl.”

Jessica raised her head, sniffled. “It was you?”

He smiled. “It was me.”

A look of amazement filled her face. “I’m glad.”

He brushed aside her hair and kissed her forehead. “I have something else to tell you about that day.”

He had imagined the speech for almost too long. He couldn’t live the moment without the memory of it already before him. On the other hand, nothing he remembered was exactly like this. Nothing was this sweet.

“When I met you at our locker that first day, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I thought about you all that day, and the next day, and the day after that. Finally, Monday morning, I got up the courage to ask you out. You remember that time we spoke under the tree, when we talked about chemistry? I was going to ask you then.”

“How come you didn’t?”

“You asked me first.”

Jessica sat back and put her hand to her mouth. “No. This can’t be. All this time—But you didn’t ask me out later! Not once did you ask me out. I was the one who kept trying to set up a date.’

“Yeah, but only because you wanted to thank me.”

“Thank you for what?” She began to laugh. “OK, I wanted to thank you. But I wanted to go out with you, too! Couldn’t you tell?”

“No. Couldn’t you tell I wanted to see you?

“No. Every time we talked, you ran away.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

She stopped smiling. “Was there another reason?”

He hesitated. “There was Bill.”

“Did you know that time I canceled our date, I went out with him?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Bubba told me.”

“I thought you might have known.” She sighed. “I’m a bitch.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she insisted. “I’m not who you think I am. Did you know Bill was just here?”

He honestly didn’t want her to talk about it now, not right after saying she loved him. “It’s none of my business.”

She spoke seriously. “But you should know about me. Bubba’s going to tell you about it later anyway. I set up this whole scam to lure Bill here. I was in the shower. I was going to seduce him. I even stopped at a drugstore on the way to the harbor and bought contraceptives. Does this sound like the sweet innocent Jessie you think is cute?”

“Well.” He was beginning to feel a tiny bit sick again. She saw it, and hugged him quickly.

“I did it because I couldn’t have you. I don’t love Bill.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s not so nice.” Her face darkened and she looked toward the brush sitting by the sink. “He told me I was just like all the other girls, loose. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

“Really?” That was excellent news, and he was glad to be hearing it firsthand from Jessica rather than secondhand from Bubba.

She chuckled. “It happened just before you got here. He started screaming at me! It was so weird. I’m not that repulsive, am I?”

“Oh, no.” A faint idea touched the edge of Michael’s mind, an idea so ridiculous and mean-spirited that he would have immediately dismissed it had it not been followed by the memory of a remark Bubba had made in the galley. “‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing,’” he whispered.

“What?”

“Something Bubba said about Bill.”

“Something Bubba said?” It was Jessica’s turn to pause. “‘But if I were you, I’d keep Sara’s receipt.’”

“Did Bubba say that, too?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

She blushed. “In the drugstore.”

They began to smile together. Then they started to laugh. They laughed so loud it hurt. It was the best laugh Michael could remember. But perhaps Jessica would not have said the same. She was beet red.

“Oh, God,” she cried. “I’ve been trying to seduce a gay!”

“We don’t know for sure he’s gay,” Michael pro-tested, trying unsuccessfully to stop giggling.

“Yes, we do! It all makes sense now, the whole year.” Jessica doubled up in embarrassment. “I am sooo dumb!”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

“I know that. It’s just that I can’t believe it,” Jessica said, still howling.

“We shouldn’t be laughing.”

Jessica stopped suddenly, sat up. “You’re right. To each his own.”

“We shouldn’t judge.”

Jessica nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“He really is friendly.”

“He is, yeah.” Jessica kept her straight face approximately three seconds. Then she went into another fit. “He’s always liked you!”

Michael couldn’t stop her. So he joined her. He could feel guilty about it later. If the truth be known, he was absolutely delighted with Bill’s choice of lifestyle. Jessica’s shower scheme might have ended a lot differently if Bill hadn’t been gay.

But Michael preferred not to think about that.

Somewhere in the midst of their laughter, they began to kiss. Jessica started it; Michael had
never
kissed a girl before and would not have known how to begin. He was pleasantly surprised to discover it was easy to do. He had to assume he was doing it well; he was getting no complaints from Jessica.

They lay back on the bed, their arms wrapped around each other. He couldn’t get over the fact that she cared for him! Or how warm and soft her body was. He seriously doubted any other girl would have felt like this. He ran his hand through her wet hair and she leaned into him, tilting her head back. Her mouth was a wonder, so soft and warm, tasting like—well, she tasted like toothpaste, which was fine with him. From now on, he knew, whenever he brushed his teeth, he would remember this moment. It was almost too much for him. He could see a
lot
of her legs. The knot in her robe was about to fall apart. He pulled back slightly.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

She smiled. “I’m not too aggressive for you, am I?”

“No, it’s not that.” He twisted his head around. “I think maybe I’m bleeding on your sheets.”

She sat up with a start; leave it to him to put a halt to the happiest moment of his life. She touched the side of his head gently and grimaced. “What really happened to you?”

He sat up. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Michael?” she protested.

He raised his hand. “Not now, Jessie. But later, I promise, I’ll explain everything.”

She continued to worry. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Liar. We should clean it at least.”

“I can’t run water on the cut. It will only bleed worse.”

She touched a part of his head where the blood had already dried. “We could wash here, if we were careful. I think it would help.” She slapped him on the back. “Take off your clothes.”

He laughed. “What?”

“I can’t wash your hair in the sink. You’re taking a shower.”

She was serious. “I don’t know,” he said.

She leaned over and kissed him briefly on the lips.

“Don’t be shy. I’ll join you.” She added hastily, “We don’t have to do anything. I know you’re not feeling well.”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, feeling a different sort of dizziness. She shoved him in the chest and giggled mischievously.

“Come on, Michael Olson, make my night.”

He had a sudden horrible thought of being eighty years old and looking back on this night with a feeling of profound regret. He took her hand. “I’m not feeling that bad,” he said.

It turned out to the best damn shower he’d ever had.

Later, when they were dry and dressed, he asked if she knew Polly’s whereabouts.

“She’s probably in her own room,” Jessica said, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair, a slight smile on her lips.

“She has a room, too? What number is it?”

“Twenty-eight, I believe. Why?”

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

When he knocked on cabin 28, no one answered. He tried the door without calling out Polly’s name. It was unlocked.

The room was larger than Jessica’s, far more plush. Polly had left all the lights on. An unopened gray overnight bag sat at the end of the undisturbed bed. No one had been sleeping in this room.

He checked in the bathroom. The tub was full. A double-edged razor blade lay in the corner soap tray beside several drops of bright red blood. Michael took a step forward, the joy of his time with Jessica fading rapidly. Sitting at the bottom of the warm tub—the hot water had been left trickling—was a hair dryer. Its plug rested less than two inches from a nearby socket.

“
The man with the electricity.
”

Had she accidentally dropped the dryer into the water while blow-drying her hair during a bath, she would have received a terrible shock. Yet what did any of that mean next to a bloody razor? That nothing had been an accident?

“
I have to warm my blood.
”

She had given Clark the form.

Michael reached down and touched the red drops beside the blade, rubbing them between the tips of his fingers. A strange sensation swept over him, similar to déjà vu but far more disturbing. It was a feeling of stumbling across the obvious and finding it utterly alien, a nightmare of staring into a mirror and seeing someone else. The realization that had hit him on the deck at the end of his conversation with Polly returned. And this time it remained. He finally understood what Polly had been trying to tell him.

Russ had followed Sara’s advice and was jogging laps around the deck in order to stay awake. Not being much of an athlete, Sara had decided to wait in the hall near Jessica’s room. When Michael exited in a rush, Sara immediately ran to Jessica’s door. She didn’t knock; she just barged in.

“I knew you’d show up soon,” Jessica said, brushing her hair in the mirror on top of the cabin’s built-in chest of drawers. Sara couldn’t help but note Jessica’s
glow
. She immediately felt insanely jealous.

“So how did it go?” Sara asked.

“Wonderful.” Jessica beamed. “How about you?”

“It was great.”

“Did you and Russ
do
it?”

“Of course. How about you and Bill?”

“Three times,” Jessica said.

Sara leaned against the wall. “How come I just saw Mike leaving?”

“He wanted to talk to Polly.”

“Yeah, but why was he here? I mean, what happened to Bill?”

“Nothing. Bill left, and then Michael stopped by.”

Sara thought a moment. “He just stopped by to talk?”

Jessica grinned slyly. “We didn’t talk that much.”

Sara was shocked. “You didn’t screw both of them?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“That’s disgusting!”

“No, it was fun. I had a great time. Especially with Michael. Bill just got me kind of warmed up.”

Sara almost choked with envy. Then she noticed the blood on the sheets. “Was it painful?”

Jessica shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s sort of like having an itch. It bothers you at first, but then, when you scratch it, it feels great.” She set down her brush. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure, yeah.”

Jessica laughed. “I’m only kidding! I didn’t have sex with Bill.”

“What happened to him?’

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Sara smelt a small measure of relief. She hated to think she was missing out entirely. “How about Mike?”

“Awesome.”

“If you’re lying to me—How many times?”

“Simply awesome.”

“How many times?”

Jessica began to count on her fingers, then threw up her hands. “I ran out of all the stuff we bought.”

Sara let her head drop against the wall. “And I thought I was amazing.”

Michael reappeared a minute later. He looked a little pale. Sara didn’t have a shred of sympathy for him. “Hi, Sara,” he said.

“Hello,” she snapped. He paid her no heed.

“Could you two do me a favor?” he asked. “Could you help me find Polly?”

Jessica sat up. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, his voice odd. “But I want to find her. She’s on board.”

“Of course she’s on board,” Jessica said, concerned, watching him closely.

“Yeah,” he muttered, thoughtful.

“What do you want with Polly?” Sara asked.

He shook himself. His eyes cleared. “I want to have a meeting of everyone who was at the party when Alice died.”

“Michael,” Jessica said, anguish in her voice. “Don’t.”

“Maria wants to have the same meeting.” Sara said, confused. “I just ran into Nick a few minutes ago. She’s sent him around to gather everybody together. She wants to have it down in the hull in half an hour.”

“Maria.” Michael chewed on that a moment. “Interesting.”

“Why are you doing this?” Jessica asked, upset, striding toward Michael. A look of sympathy touched his features, and he took her hand.

“It’s all right. I understand everything a lot better now. It all makes sense to me. Almost.” He hugged her. “She didn’t kill herself. Jessie.”

Jessica stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t know that.”

He touched the side of his head. “You asked what happened—Clark did this to me.”

“Clark?” Sara muttered, more confused. “Alice’s boyfriend?” Jessica frowned. “Is he on board?”

But Michael would not say.