Page 57 of Poison Wood
“That place was always cursed,” Summer says softly, not looking up.
“There were lots of unfortunate incidents there,” Kat says.
“Unfortunate incidents?” I say. “Seriously? Was Halloween an unfortunate incident?”
“I don’t like conflict,” Summer says.
“This isn’t conflict, Summer,” Kat says. “This is grown-ass women talking. And Halloween was an accident. Lisbeth Warrington was the most accident-prone student at Poison Wood.”
“She wasn’t the only one up in that tree,” Summer says. “Heather was up there with her. When it happened.”
“Summer,” I say.
“What? It’s true.”
“Because Kat dared Heather to go up,” I say. “A junior prank to scare the seniors trying to scare the freshman. It was so messed up.”
“No, I didn’t,” Kat says to me. “You’re the one who dared her.”
“Absolutely not,” I say.
“Whatever. She surprised us,” Kat says. “And Lisbeth slipped.” She pauses, then lowers her chin and winks. “Maybe.”
Summer shrugs. “Or she jumped. Or ... Heather pushed her.”
“Stop,” I say. I may not remember other nights at Poison Wood, but that one is still crystal clear. “Heather had nothing to do with it. She was trying to help Lisbeth. We even went to the hospital to see her.”
Kat’s mouth falls open. “What? Why did you go see Lisbeth?”
Heather, Lisbeth, and I had formed a study group, and even though I wasn’t as close with Lisbeth, Heather had begged me to go to the hospital with her. I’d agreed to go, but it wasn’t until I saw Lisbeth in her hospital room that I realized what I’d agreed to. She was hooked up to so many machines, I knew she would die. Heather went in and held her hand, but I stayed out in the hall, watching through a crack in the door. Sometimes I think back to that moment and wonder if that’s what first put me on the path to wanting to be a reporter, where I could uncover the truth and prove it.
The rumors at Poison Wood had already started by then. Younger girls whispering that Lisbeth had been pushed and that I’d egged it on by daring Heather. Crowley was trying to control the rumors, but as usual, he was no match for the girls. Some even blamed him, saying he should have put a stop to the Halloween tradition when he became headmaster.
“They say only guilty people return to the scene of a crime,” Summer says, sitting back in her chair.
“The hospital wasn’t a crime scene,” I say in a short tone.
“Y’all weren’t even friends,” Kat says. “And Heather hated Lisbeth.”
“No, she didn’t,” I say.
Kat and Summer exchange a look, and Summer says, “Shekind ofhated her. Because of that boy they both dated.”
“Jeremy something,” Kat says. “The one with the glass eye. Wasn’t his dad a billionaire or something?”
“Robicheaux,” Summer says, batting her eyelashes.
“Oh right,” Kat says to her. “He’s on your trail of tears too. Him and his eyeball.”
“Hey,” Summer says. “He gave that to me. With a note that said I only have eye for you.”
Kat and Summer start laughing so hard other people around us turn to stare. As I watch them, an uncomfortable feeling tries to worm its way back in. A need to do anything to be included, anything to get Kat’s attention back on me. I choke it down with a sip of my water.
“Whatever happened to him?” Summer directs the question at Kat.
“He and that one boyfriend you called The Idiot are probably somewhere together still crying,” she says.
I’d forgotten about The Idiot. We never got to meet him. Every time we snuck out to see the other boys at St. Matthews, The Idiot was never with them. Summer kept him a secret.
