This is What I Did Read online

The sound of a body.

  Girl sort of scream.

  Zyler was gasping then when he said: Dad, please.

  Zyler’s dad: I swear I’m going to rip your guts out, you little . . .

  And then Cami’s voice but it was really soft because I almost couldn’t hear it and this: pleasenopleasenopleasenoplease

  Heavy Breathing

  A slap.

  Zyler: Dad! Please.

  Zyler’s dad: Shut up, Zyler.

  Zyler’s voice but not his voice either: Dad. Dad. I’m sorry, okay? I’m really sorry. She’s leaving. You’re leaving, right, Cami?

  Cami: Yes. Yes, I’m leaving.

  And I think she might have been crying.

  Zyler’s dad: I said SHUT UP!

  Another loud sound but more and Cami’s high pitch and maybe I should’ve run then and called the cops or got someone or done something ’cause then Cami was definitely crying.

  Zyler’s dad: Oh, I’m sorry, honey, did I make you upset?

  Another slapping sound.

  Cami: No. No. No, please. Stop.

  I couldn’t see her but I could hear her crying hard and saying no no no a lot and please please please.

  Zyler’s dad: Hey, Zy, she’s my friend too.

  Zyler: Stop it, Dad. Leave her alone, Dad.

  Zyler’s dad (and now his voice was all soft-like): I think I can make you feel better.

  Cami: Please no. Don’t.

  And then there was a ripping sound and she screamed.

  Zyler: Dad! What are you doing? Dad!! Get off her!

  And then another crash and swearing and crashing and screaming and

  Cami: STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!

  It kept going: her screaming, Zyler yelling, smashing, bodies, lamps.

  Things were flying.

  I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this.

  In the hallway trapped I CAN’T DO THIS.

  I CAN’T DO THIS.

  But then it got worse because I couldn’t see anything except maybe his dad slamming but then . . .

  I saw Cami.

  She came in my view and she was crawling and her shirt was torn so that I could see her bra and everything and her face all red and the slamming by the TV and Zyler’s groans.

  She was moving so fast toward me, so fast, and I tried to get into Zyler’s room before she saw me. I didn’t want her to know I was there and that I was there the whole time. But then, just when I was almost all the way in his room, and I think maybe even she saw me and right then something happened.

  A crack.

  A crash.

  A loud grunt.

  Another crack.

  A slump.

  Then panting.

  Cami: Oh my gosh. What’d you do?

  Zyler:

  Cami was whimpering and her voice was little.

  I looked out and there was blood, so much blood, and one of Zyler’s dad’s trophies.

  Zyler whispered: I think I killed my dad. I think I killed my dad.

  And then louder: I think I just killed my dad.

  That’s when I ran.

  I ran hard and loud and I didn’t care and through his room and out the window and to my bike.

  I just ran.

  On my bike I thought this:

  I just had to get away, get away.

  But then I couldn’t think anyway because what just happened? Zyler maybe killed his dad. And Cami’s shirt was all ripped open and I didn’t do anything. He maybe killed his dad. He’s a murderer and he’s not who I thought. I hate him I hate her I hate all of them. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

  But then: Zyler is my best friend.

  But then: He killed his own dad.

  But then: Zyler is my best friend.

  When I got home

  My mom: Logan? Is that you?

  Me: Yeah.

  Her: Did you get your homework done?

  Me:

  Because I had slammed my door.

  But then, not thirteen minutes later and tapping on the window.

  It was Zyler.

  Zyler, with blood all over, standing in the window well.

  I always run.

  I always run, and maybe I am what they say.

  I wrote this down and it’s supposed to make me feel better.

  It doesn’t.

  Zyler said through the window to meet him at the spot in five minutes.

  He just said: Meet me at the spot in five minutes and don’t tell anyone.

  Me: Okay.

  His face was all messed up and I could tell he was hurt pretty bad, but I didn’t say anything.

  After he left I didn’t know what to do. He maybe killed his dad and what about Cami and they were kissing and then her shirt all open and torn and he might have killed his dad.

  I thought.

  I thought maybe I wouldn’t go out there.

  One minute.

  Two minutes.

  Three minutes.

  Four minutes.

  Five minutes.

  At six minutes I started to walk around and around my room.

  Seven minutes.

  Eight minutes.

  At nine minutes I sat on the floor and sort of just sat there.

  Ten minutes.

  And at eleven minutes was when I started to cry.

  Twelve minutes.

  Thirteen minutes.

  At fourteen minutes Zyler was back at my window, and I wiped off my face to try to look normal even though I couldn’t.

  He looked at me and said: Open the window.

  I didn’t.

  Zyler: Please, Logan. Open the window.

  I still didn’t.

  Zyler: I’m out here with Cami and she’s hurt and I don’t know what to do. Please, Logan. I know you were there. I need you. Please help me.

  I didn’t.

  And that’s when Zyler, who was my best friend and so brave and so strong, that’s when he started to cry too. Shaking. Crying.

  And me shaking, crying.

  Zyler: Please?

  But I couldn’t do anything.

  I’m so sorry.

  I’m so sorry.

  I’m so sorry.

  I want to die.

  I want to die.

  I’m so sorry.

  I never saw Zyler again.

  That night I heard the sirens and I didn’t do anything.

  I found out later that Zyler had taken Cami home and then I don’t know where he went. But I do know that the cops found him and took him away because the next day I got up early and rode over there.

  Police tape all around the house and then on the morning news: Sexual assault on a young girl. Possibly both a father and son involved in the attack. Details still being sorted out. Father in hospital in critical condition. Son in custody of the state. The 911 call put in by the father of the victim around midnight.

  When they found out about it, Mom and Dad wanted to talk about it.

  I said: I don’t want to.

  They said: Okay.

  And okay.

  After a few days, one of our teachers said that Zyler had moved and Cami transferred schools.

  That was because everyone kept talking and wanting to know.

  Macy said she was going to transfer schools too — next year.

  I wanted to see what she knew so I asked her: What happened?

  Her:

  Me: I won’t tell anyone. Is she okay?

  Macy: No.

  Me: What happened?

  Macy: Don’t act like you don’t know, Logan. Everyone knows you were involved. You and Zyler. Everyone knows.

  And then she stalked off and wouldn’t ever talk to me except for when she had to, like, in school stuff.

  I left my bike in our spot — just in case Zyler had run away from the cops or something and he came back or something and his bike wasn’t there and he needed to get away.

  Mom and Dad wanted to try to find him so I could call or contact him, but I didn’t know how
mad he’d be. I didn’t know what I’d say.

  Me: I don’t feel like talking to him.

  Them: Why?

  Me: I just don’t.

  And then I’d go to my room.

  Later, not long later, I didn’t have to go to school.

  Like Macy said, everyone knew and since I was Zyler’s best friend it meant I was involved or I knew something or both.

  I didn’t want to go to school.

  Mom and Dad said I didn’t have to go.

  It was okay.

  So I stayed in my room and I didn’t come out.

  And then we moved.

  I got an e-mail from Zyler sixteen days after he disappeared.

  subject: Gone

  Date: Today

  1 message

  From: Zyler

  To: Logan

  I don’t know what to say to you. I still don’t get it, Logan. You know I had to do it. guess you made the decision you thought you had to make, but I never would have done that to you. I really don’t think I would’ve.

  Zy

  I could never e-mail him back or anything.

  I mean, I could because I did right then.

  I pressed reply and put this:

  subject: Re: Gone

  Date: Today

  1 message

  From: Logan

  To: Zyler

  What happened? Where are you?

  Log

  He didn’t write back.

  I didn’t try again.

  Not really.

  Dr. Benson: Haven’t seen you in a while.

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Nothing to say?

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Come on, Logan. We’re way past this.

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: What about Scouts? Anything to tell me there?

  Me:

  I had already told him about getting kicked in the balls and everything even though I didn’t tell my dad for a while.

  Dr. Benson: Are you going to the next activity?

  Me: I don’t know.

  Dr. Benson: I know you can do it, Logan. You’re tougher than those boys. I know you can do it.

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Okay, how’s the play?

  Me: Okay.

  Dr. Benson: Starts in a couple of weeks, right?

  Me: Yeah.

  Dr. Benson: Did you get the fight scene you were hoping for?

  Me: Yeah.

  Dr. Benson: Well, what about that assignment I gave you last time. How did that go?

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Did you do it?

  Me: Yeah.

  Dr. Benson: You wrote everything down.

  Me: Yes.

  Dr. Benson: How did it go?

  Me:

  Dr. Benson:

  Me:

  Dr. Benson:

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: I see.

  I sort of laughed.

  Dr. Benson: Well, I have some good news for you.

  I kept looking at my feet. He’d done this before and the good news was always something like: I’m proud of you and your parents are too.

  But this time he said: I have Zyler’s new e-mail address. It’s changed now that he is with a permanent family.

  I put Zyler’s e-mail address on my mirror.

  Dr. Benson said I could do anything I wanted with it.

  He meant that it was okay if I didn’t e-mail or anything.

  I didn’t know what I wanted.

  One week until the play and I haven’t been able to “rendezvous” with Laurel because she was sick and I wasn’t.

  But then when she wasn’t sick anymore, I had to leave early for Mack and Ryan’s club basketball games.

  But then today

  Ms. March: People! People!

  But nobody cared because

  Pirate costumes and too much makeup and who stole my sword and where’s the flashlight for Tinkerbell and even more than that.

  I was watching Ms. March and her tomato face get even more tomatoey.

  Ms. March: PEOPLE!!!!!

  And it was so loud that even the crew people stopped doing stuff.

  Her hair was so big.

  Ms. March in a very soft lots-of-heavy-breathing voice said: We don’t have time. We don’t have time for this.

  It got louder and louder.

  Ms. March: We don’t have time for this!

  Everyone stopped talking and we were sort of looking at each other because she was maybe going to blow.

  Ms. March: We don’t have time for this! We don’t have time for this!

  And right about there is when she fell.

  Bam.

  Fell.

  Flat.

  Still breathing but on the floor.

  Nobody moved.

  Not even anyone.

  And then, after a really long time

  Peter Pan: Uh, Ms. March?

  Ms. March:

  Peter Pan again: Ms. March?

  Ms. March:

  Peter Pan: Somebody call an ambulance!

  And chaos again.

  People screaming, girls surrounding Ms. March’s up-and-down mass, boys running, set falling, and me just standing there.

  Wondering.

  What I should do.

  I never know what to do.

  So we all helped roll Ms. March over.

  Including me.

  She was alive still and someone thought maybe she was squishing herself and couldn’t breathe as well on her stomach.

  No one was in charge because the Peter Pan kid had taken off along with a bunch of other people yelling for help and ambulances.

  The ones of us left all just stood there looking at her.

  I knew she should probably have her head propped up.

  And we should probably talk to her.

  Or see if she could talk.

  I mean, you could tell she was breathing — the big mask necklace she wore was slowly moving up and down.

  But everyone just stood there.

  So

  I

  Knelt

  Down

  And

  Put

  Her

  Head

  In

  My

  Lap.

  Everyone stepped closer.

  Me: Ms. March, can you hear me?

  Her:

  Me, and I said it a little louder this time: Ms. March, can you hear me?

  She moaned a bit and there was so much sweat dripping off her face. I tried to wipe it off with my sleeve.

  Me: Ms. March?

  Her: a louder moan.

  Everyone stepped back and she sort of rolled a bit. But not over, just around or something.

  I wiped more sweat off and I didn’t know what to do next.

  What do I do next?

  And I thought I should probably keep talking or get her to talk or respond or probably, probably sing.

  That’s what Mom did for me when I was sick.

  But Ms. March wasn’t sick.

  She was almost dead or something.

  But

  Then what?

  So I almost did it. I started to almost sing the song that got me the part: “Where Can I Turn for Peace?” I even said “Where . . .”

  But then three ambulance guys were there and loud and move back and hang on, kid, let us take over and she’s all right. She’s going to be fine. Why don’t you kids go home for now. It looks like she’s just in shock a bit. A faint. Go home.

  I sat there and watched from far away sort of.

  And she was fine.

  She sat up.

  She said: Oh my!

  They said: You’re going to be fine.

  She said: No, I’m not. I’ve got a play to put on.

  And that’s when I really did go home.

  Since I’ve been seeing Dr. Benson things are sort of better.

  Like yesterday I almost helped Mack with his math.

  Mom was out shopping, Dad was at work, Ryan and I were on the couch
watching TV, and Mack was behind us at the kitchen table.

  Mack: I hate math.

  Ryan: Shut up, Mack. I can’t hear.

  Me:

  And then we kept watching.

  Mack: I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

  Mack was so uptight about everything.

  He kept erasing and erasing and moaning and making noises.

  Then he yelled: I HATE IT!

  Ryan said: Holy crap, man. If you don’t shut your mouth I’m going to shut it for you. We’re trying to watch TV.

  I looked back at him and I knew he was going to freak out.

  Mack: Why don’t you shut it? You shut it.

  A pencil whizzed past our heads.

  Ryan started to laugh.

  Mack: Oh, you think that’s funny?

  He threw his math book hard at Ryan. Ryan ducked and laughed again.

  Mack was furious but instead of attacking Ryan like he normally would he just took off upstairs.

  Ryan: Wuss.

  Me:

  But I did sort of laugh.

  Normally, I mean, since Zyler, I wouldn’t have done anything after that.

  I would have just sat there.

  Or more likely I would have been in my room instead of up with the twins.

  But instead I went upstairs.

  And instead I got all Mack’s stuff together and went and knocked on his door.

  I did it even though Ryan said: Don’t do anything. He’s an idiot.

  I knocked and then I said: Do you want me to help you?

  His door:

  Me:

  His door:

  Me: Come on.

  His door: Go away.

  Me: Are you sure?

  His door:

  Me: Okay.

  I left all his stuff by his door for when he needed it.

  I decided I wasn’t going to meet Laurel anymore because I didn’t want to tell her everything but then

  she said this: I’m not scared of you because I know it’s not true.

  Me:

  Laurel: Aren’t you going to say something?

  Me: Ummm.

  Laurel: Come on, Logan.

  But I didn’t know what to say.

  Laurel: Don’t you want to know why?

  Her upper lip twitched and she pulled off a scab from her elbow.

  Me: Okay. Why?

  Laurel: Bruce has been telling everyone that you and another guy assaulted this girl at your last school and that you are a sicko that will wind up a stalker or even worse.

  She took a breath.

  I didn’t.

  Laurel: Bruce said he knew because his mom talked to your mom and then she did some calling around to find out what really happened. Bruce’s mom thinks she knows everyone and everything. You should have been here last year when they fired the bus driver for absolutely no reason, but mainly because of stuff Bruce’s mom claimed to know.