Just One More

“Was there anything extraordinary about their son’s death?” I’d asked gently. “Were you close to the Adams? How were they after their son died?”

She looked down at her hands, not answering at first. “The Adams were devastated,” she confided in a quiet voice. “Nicer people I never knew, and Brian was a good son. No one could understand how it happened. An asthma attack during practice that got out of control, and suddenly poof! He was gone.”

Oh, so that’s how people were playing it. Brian had had an unexpected medical emergency which took his life.

“But didn’t someone try to revive him? Weren’t their coaches and trainers who were skilled in CPR, knew how to help a kid who’s struggling to breathe?”

Callie shrugged her shoulders sadly.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I just heard that he went into spasms, was frothing at the mouth, and there was nothing anyone could do. He was gone within minutes.”

Okay, that part sounded right. When people overdose on drugs, it’s often a nasty sight with flailing limbs, uncontrolled spasms, crossed eyes, you get the picture. Not like dying peacefully in your sleep at all.

“So was there an investigation?” I asked. “Was anyone held responsible? Did the coroner do an inquiry?”

But I’d gone too far.

Callie eyed me suspiciously. “Why? What is this to you? You didn’t even know Brian and now all these questions?” She turned her face away, looking out the window pensively. I gave her credit for that. She’d been friends with these kids since grade school and now a stranger was here, asking all sorts of intrusive questions.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said, backing off immediately. “It’s just that Canterdale is such an awesome place, people have been really nice to my brother and I since we arrived. We’re used to people not giving a shit, you know what I mean? So we want to get to know this school better, the history of the place, what matters to the folks here, that kind of thing.”

I could tell that she wasn’t completely buying my explanation but it appeased her somewhat.

“Well, Brian and Tyler were great guys,” she said softly. “They were in this class and as a matter of fact, you’re sitting in Tyler’s seat now.”

Well, well, well, what a coincidence.

“I think I’m using his books in fact,” I confided, holding up a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. “Look,” I said, opening up the inside cover. And sure enough, printed on an old-fashioned check-out card was the name “Tyler Needham, Period 3.”

“Crazy huh?” I said, as Callie’s face turned white.

“They shouldn’t have given you his book,” she said stiffly, not meeting my eyes. “Those were his things, I don’t know, they should have burned them or something.”

“Callie honey,” I said gently. “These things didn’t belong to Tyler, they belong to the school district and there’s no sense in wasting perfectly readable books. Besides, I don’t mind. I didn’t know the kid and there’s no harm in re-reading Catcher in the Rye, it’s an amazing piece of work.”

“You’ve read it before?” she said swiftly, her eyes turned to me inquisitively, sharp and assessing. “Where did you say you went to school again? I thought you said you’d transferred from a low-performing school in Queens.”

Oh shit! I’d almost blown my cover. Hastily, I tried to make things right.

“That’s right,” I rumbled, “Blake and I are from New York, and not the nice part. But you know us,” I shrugged. “No one cared what we did, so we had a lot of free time and did some reading on our own.”

And Callie smiled then. “I had a feeling you guys know a lot more than you let on,” she said warmly. “You’re so … educated and perceptive, you know what I mean? You noticed that I was feeling faint before anyone else did.”

And I was relieved to be going back to the dead cat because it was safe territory after nearly giving myself away.

“That cat,” I snorted. “Listen, you wanna catch up on the dissection this weekend? Grimes says the new animal is ready, we can come in anytime Sunday.”

Callie flushed. “Sure,” she said, “I need to do the make-up. But you’re coming to Chrissy’s party on Friday right? She made me promise to get you guys to come,” she confessed. “It’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

I just laughed. “Yeah, Chrissy’s only mentioned it to us a hundred times already. But no worries, you’ll look great in a swimsuit,” I’d chuckled, looking over her figure appreciatively.

And the girl had flushed, ducking her head shyly even as her breasts quivered with pleasure. But I was gazing at her nude form now, that swimsuit on the floor of the bedroom, discarded in pieces as my brother kissed her cunt, the creaminess rising to the fore as she spasmed … with her eyes locked on mine.