Free Liar by Justine Larbalestier Page B

Zach’s body was found.
    Maybe she’s still in the basement. So are Zach’s ears. The killer kept souvenirs.
    The worst rumors are the ones about me. Some are saying that I killed him. That I killed them both. Everyone talks about me. Even the teachers. They stare. Some are not talking to me. Cutting past me on line. Averting their eyes, whispering: We know she’s a liar. A slut. Killing’s what comes next.
    Liar. Slut . Bitch . Murderer .
    Always whispering.
    It doesn’t matter that there are also whispers about Brandon. (Though not nearly so many.) And Sarah and Tayshawn. Were they sleeping together? Did Zach find out and Tayshawn accidentally kill him? But that doesn’t explain Erin. Maybe Brandon killed her? A copycat killing and now he’s waiting till he gets someone alone to do it again.
    Doesn’t matter that none of this stuff is true. The less we know, the more ferocious the talk gets.
    All we have is a dead boy, a missing girl, and rumors.
    How can they say those things about Sarah and Tayshawn? They’re the most popular kids in school. Yet now, while they grieve, they have to deal with these stupid rumors?
    The school is nastily off-kilter. Everyone’s gone nuts.
    Teachers stutter-step their way through their lesson plans. Students keep drifting back to talk of Zach, of Erin. (Of me. Of Tayshawn. Of Sarah. Of Brandon.) They try to talk about school, games, TV, their boyfriend/girlfriend, regular gossip. But they can’t stay there. Zach. Erin. They have to talk about it, speculate, imagine, scare themselves so bad that no one’s walking or riding the subway home alone anymore. Despite the crazy traffic some parents are sending their children to and from school in cars.
    All of them worry about who’ll be next. I’m hoping Brandon. But right now they can all go to hell as far as I’m concerned. Especially the ones calling me Liar. Slut. Bitch . Killer .
    I can’t imagine this ever ending.
    I will always be at school. Skin tight, head high, acting like I don’t care. Avoiding everyone. Avoiding everything. Only when I’m running in the park does my head stop throbbing.
    It will be like this for the rest of the year. I bet they’ll still be talking next year, too, when there’ll be a new set of seniors and we’ll all be off to wherever it is we go next.
    I’m hoping hell for most of them.
    I’m not sure where I’m going. I’ve filled out applications, sent them off, but I’m not optimistic. CUNY is my best chance. Though I’m not sure we can afford even that. Part of me would be happy to wind up somewhere no one’s heard of Zach or what happened to him. Somewhere far from the city.
    Wherever I go, I doubt I’ll be with anyone from here. Sarah will be at some Ivy League school: Harvard or Yale or Princeton. Or at the very least, Vassar. Tayshawn will be at MIT. Brandon will be in jail. I’ll never see any of them again.
    I’m glad.
    I think.
    I don’t want to talk about Zach. But how will it feel not to be able to?
    I try to imagine myself at college. I fail. I want to keep studying biology but I’m not sure why. If all else fails then I guess I can work up on the farm.
    A fine way to spend the rest of my life.

    AFTER
    At the second group counseling session Jill Wang asks us to tell her what we think about Zach.
    â€œAre we going to talk about Erin, too?” Kayla asks.
    Everyone starts talking at once. I close my eyes and wish I could shut my ears.
    â€œWhy would we talk about Erin?” Brandon shouts over the top of everyone else. “She’s a freshman. Do you even know who she is?” I dislike agreeing with Brandon, but he’s right. Looking around the room, I can see others agree.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, yes, I do,” Kayla yells back. “Her sister and me have been friends for years. I’ve known Erin since she was a baby.”
    â€œWell, I