Tell Me Pretty Lies

“You killed my brother!” He fists Christian’s jacket, throwing him up against the wall. Christian doesn’t put up a fight, and Thayer pulls back his fist, sending it into his face. His head bounces off the wall, his nose spurting blood. “You could’ve killed my girl.” Another punch. This time to the stomach, and Christian doubles over. “You lied to us for a fucking year!” He lands one final punch to his gut, and then Christian’s sliding down the wall into a puddle on the floor.

“Thayer, stop!”

I know what he did is wrong and fucked up in so many ways, but all I can think of when I see Christian like this is the scene in the parking lot where his dad doled out the same abuse. I look over to Holden and Baker, but neither one of them moves to help, so I insert myself between them right before Thayer’s about to send a foot into Christian’s stomach. He stops himself, looking at me like I’ve grown three heads.

I stand on my tiptoes, bringing my hands to his face, forcing him to focus on me. His nostrils are flared, his jaw set hard. “This isn’t going to help anything. Hurti

ng him isn’t going to bring Danny back.” His eyes squeeze shut as if he’s in pain. “We’ll make it right,” I promise him. “But not like this.”

“We were fucking around, daring each other to jump like we always do,” Christian says, pulling himself up to sit against the wall, clutching his stomach. “He was being a pussy, talking about how it was too cold. We started wrestling, trying to push each other off, but I got the upper hand.”

He stops, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling as tears roll out of the corners of his eyes. “I fucking laughed. I laughed as he fell. And then I looked over the edge, waiting for him to jump out of the water and flip me off, but…he never came up.”

“Finish your story so I can fucking kill you,” Holden says, his eyes glassy, arms folded over his chest.

Christian nods, resigned to his fate. “I panicked. I couldn’t think, so I called my dad as I ran for the shore. He told me not to call the cops and said he was on his way. I jumped in, looking for him. Then he showed up,” he says, flicking his chin at Baker, who’s sitting there with his hood on, staring blankly ahead. “He was there doing some shit for his photography class. He saw the whole thing, then jumped in to help me. Eventually, we found Danny. I don’t know how long, but it felt like hours.”

He inhales deeply, pressing his eyes with the heels of his palms. Shock has all of us paralyzed. I don’t even think we breathe, waiting for him to finish.

“We pulled him out, but I could tell…” he trails off, his hands balling into fists. “I could tell he was dead. I didn’t know Grey had texted Danny, or that he told him to meet us there. I heard him calling Danny’s name, and I looked up, seeing him on the cliff. I panicked. Again. So we ran. The next thing I know, Grey’s yelling. He must have seen Danny on the shore. My dad came and got rid of Grey. Made it seem like he’d take the fall if he didn’t get out of there.”

Hot tears roll down my face, hearing him describe Danny’s last moments and what followed.

“He threatened me,” Baker chimes in, pushing his foot against the table leg until his chair teeters on the two back legs. “He saw the camera around my neck and smashed it into pieces. Told me he’d kill me if I ever spoke a word of it. My dad had some legal troubles, and he offered to make them go away in exchange for my silence.”

“I wanted to go to the police. I wanted to turn myself in, but he wouldn’t let me. He said I wasn’t throwing college and basketball away over an accident, but we all know it’s because he didn’t want that kind of scandal to reflect on him. He covered it up and had the records sealed, and that was that.” His eyes slide to mine. “Until you came back.”

I shake my head, batting the tears off my cheek. “What do I have to do with any of this?”

“Come on, Shayne. You’re smarter than that.” His head lolls to the side. “They suspected Grey. Grey was gone and your parents split. He was the perfect fall guy. But the second I saw the way they acted with you, I knew it was only a matter of time before they let you back in.”

“You knew they’d eventually find out Grey didn’t do it.”

He nods. “I tried minor shit at first, trying to scare you away, or at the very least, make you switch schools. But that night in the parking lot, you saw something you shouldn’t have. And that put you on my dad’s radar. I told him I had it under control. That I’d handle it. Because believe me, Shayne. He’d do much worse.”

A chill licks its way up my spine. I believe that. Without a doubt.

“He controls everything and everyone around him. If someone steps out of line, he doesn’t handle it well. But I’m not playing his game anymore.” He stands, wobbling on his feet. “So here’s my proposition.”

“You really think you’re in a position to negotiate?” Thayer asks, his voice low and menacing. “What did we say we’d do if we found out who killed Danny? You were there when we said it, remember?” he taunts.

“We said we’d get revenge—” Holden supplies.

“No matter who it is,” Thayer finishes, moving around me, but Christian nods at Baker, signaling something.

“Check your phones.”

Thayer pulls out his phone and I lean in to see what it is. It’s a video from an unknown number, presumably Baker’s. He clicks on the triangle to play the video. It starts out with Christian and Danny roughhousing on the cliff, laughing and trying to push each other. The camera zooms in, and I can see the wide smiles on their faces.

“I win, motherfucker!” Christian’s distant voice calls out, leaning over the cliff with his hands in the air, laughing victoriously. The video is taken from behind, but you can see the moment he realizes something isn’t right. His hands lock behind his head as he calls Danny’s name, over and over, then he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket, running down the path to the bottom. You can hear Baker whisper “shit”, and then the only thing we can see is the ground as he runs to help.

Thayer stops the video, most likely not wanting to see what comes next. I don’t blame him. Holden does the same, throwing his phone onto the table in front of him.

“He smashed my camera, but he didn’t think about my phone,” Baker says.

“The whole thing is recorded. This is how you take him down.” Christian looks between us, gauging our reactions.

“But it implicates you, too,” I say, stating the obvious.