Truly Devious Page 50

“Right before eleven,” Maris said. “He went home. I went home.”

Dash seemed genuinely thunderstruck.

“I’m sorry,” Stevie said. “Did you guys do stuff together last year? Did you work on The End of It All?”

“No,” Dash said. “That was totally something he did on his own. He just produced that out of thin air over the summer. He was going to be a star, you know? I really think that. I think he was going to go to Hollywood and be in movies and be a big deal. He was just that kind of actor.”

“That’s what I said when I first saw him,” Maris said. “Star. Star star star.”

Stevie opted not to point out that Hayes already kind of was a star when Maris met him.

“He was honest,” Maris said. “He was the most honest person I ever met. That’s why his performances were so good.”

“Honest?” Stevie said.

“Well, not honest,” Maris said. “Pure. Well . . . unencumbered. I knew as soon as I met him that I had to be with him.”

She paused for a moment and stared at her nails. Then she looked up suddenly. Stevie turned to see what she was staring at. Gretchen had come into the yurt.

“She,” Maris said, “is a bitch.”

“She was Hayes’s ex, right?” Stevie said.

“She hurt him. Look at her.”

Gretchen looked wrecked, actually. She was crying.

“The Beth thing was just something Hayes was doing for the show,” Maris went on. “I know what people are going to say, but it was all for show.”

All for show. That phrase struck something that Stevie had been thinking but hadn’t been able to put into words. Something about this whole thing seemed—not staged, but . . . there was some kind of element of show about it. They had been making a show. And the way Hayes turned and didn’t want Maris to come with him. The big, dramatic looks.

From across the room, Janelle waved Stevie over. She, Nate, and Vi were all hunkered over Nate’s computer. David was there as well, having come to the yurt at some point.

“Germaine Batt again,” Nate said, turning the computer around so Stevie could see.

Once again, the silent, all-seeing Germaine Batt had a report, and this one included the missing dry ice. The news spread around the room as people turned to their phones to watch.

“Dry ice?” Janelle said, her voice low. “Is that what happened? Is that what my pass was about? Is that how Hayes died?”

“How can you die from dry ice?” Nate said.

“You can die from carbon dioxide poisoning,” Janelle said. “If you were trapped in a small space with enough dry ice it would displace the oxygen. Did Hayes take a bunch of dry ice?”

“It seems like that might be what happened,” Stevie said. “I heard something about it when they took me up to the Great House.”

Janelle’s brow furrowed. “He must have taken a lot,” she said. “And that stuff is heavy. Really heavy.”

The group descended into thoughtful silence for a bit. Vi rubbed Janelle’s hand.

“So what happens now?” Nate said.

“I don’t think I’m going to be here much longer,” Stevie replied.

“You think they’ll kick you out?” Vi said.

“They won’t,” David said. He had come up behind them and crouched on the back of the sofa. “They don’t kick anyone out. I’ve tried.”

“My parents could take me out of here,” she replied.

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they never wanted me to come.”

“Why wouldn’t your parents want you to come?” Vi said.

“Because,” Stevie replied, “they like things that are normal. Ellingham is not normal. It’s full of everything they worry about. Other people. They let me come because it’s fancy and it’s free, but they’d take any excuse to pull me back out. And I think someone dying counts as a pretty big excuse. So I am not long for this fancy, special world. It’s back to the local Edward King headquarters for me so I can sit around and listen to people who believe in aliens but not climate change.”

“Oh my God,” Vi said. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“I have no idea. Maybe if I suddenly became a prom-queen type. They like that.”

“Maybe we’ll all have to go,” Nate said. “Maybe the school will close.”

“You guys,” Janelle said. “Come on. Hayes is dead.”

“It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about the school closing,” Nate said.

Stevie heard someone repeat “the school is closing?” in the group next to them in a whisper. Life comes at you fast, and games of telephone, even faster.

The door to the yurt swung open, and Ellie strode inside. She wavered, obviously drunk, and held Roota over her head.

“Hayes is dead!” she said. “Long live Hayes!”

She started squawking away.

This announcement did not go over well in the room. Unlike that first night in the yurt, no one was very receptive to Ellie’s arting. David slipped off the back of the sofa and went over to her and whispered in her ear. She jerked away and played more aggressively. He hooked his arm through hers and tried to lead her out, but she pulled away again.

A few more art people got up from various corners and gathered around her. At first it appeared that they were trying to stop her, but then one of them started jumping up and down in a strange dance. Ellie did it too. Then another joined in. David shrugged and left the group, returning to his perch. Maris, who at first was staring at this in horror, got up and started dancing with all her might, her arms swinging furiously.

“Oh my God,” Janelle said over the noise. “What’s even happening right now?”

“The Bacchae,” Nate said.

This little dancing group in the middle sucked all the rest of the air and energy from the room and continued until another group entered. This was a less festive group, consisting of Larry, Charles, Dr. Quinn, and two uniformed police officers. The room ground into quiet.

“Everyone,” Larry said, holding up his hands.

Ellie bleated once on Roota.

“Element,” Larry said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

The saxophone was lowered.

“The police are going to need to speak to everyone for just a few minutes,” Larry said. “It’s nothing to worry about. We just have to get a baseline of information about what happened here. So I’m going to have everyone move back to your houses.”

“Dinner will be brought around to your houses,” Charles said. “And again, we have counselors on hand who can come to you. Anyone who needs help, just reply to the text I sent or speak to any faculty member.”

Ellingham shuffled back to their houses, now more nervous.

“Everyone gets to talk to a cop,” David said as the Minerva group walked home. “You get to talk to a cop, and you get to talk to a cop, and you . . .”

“I’m not going to,” Ellie said.

“Good luck with that,” David replied.

“I don’t have to, and I don’t want to,” she replied. “This isn’t a fascist state.”

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