All These Things I've Done

Leo pulled his mouth into an obstinate line and shook his head.

  I wanted to yell Why do they need you? A million guys can get the sandwiches but only one guy can be Natty’s and my guardian. It isn’t safe there, Leo! Look at your eye! And if I’m to even consider the possibility of going to Teen Crime Scene Summer, I’d like to know you’re not going to get yourself shot! But I didn’t. Yelling was never an effective tactic with my brother. Besides, Leo’s cheeks were already starting to flush and his lips had moved from a line to being pursed up like a pink carnation. I could tell he was on the verge of tears, so I decided to take another approach.

  “Leo,” I said. “I need your help.”

  “Help?” Leo said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Annie.”

  “I’ve been thinking about maybe going away for the summer. It’s this silly little teen program for kids who are contemplating careers in forensic science. Do you think you’d be able to manage without me? Imogen could make your meals and Mr. Kipling would take care of the financial arrangements. And I’d make sure that you were able to call me whenever you wanted if you needed anything at—”

  “I’m not a child, Annie. I’m a grown man.”

  “I know that, Leo. Of course, I know that. I just wanted to make sure you knew that everything was taken care of. For the next two years, you’re Natty’s and my guardian. You’re very important now.”

  “Yes, I’m very important,” he said in a tone that could almost be described as sarcastic. “I’m Anya Balanchine’s very important older brother. I’m very, very important, and I need to sleep. Would you mind turning off the lights when you leave, Annie?” Something about this little speech did not sit well with me, and yet, I did not press. I decided it was as he said: he was tired, nothing more.

  Leo rolled away from me. I kissed him on the side of the head, on the raised scar from where they’d had to slice into his head. He was not that much younger than Yuji Ono, and if not for that scar, he could even be Yuji Ono. Someone like him, I mean.

  I kissed Leo a second time. “Good night, sweet prince,” I said.

  “Mommy used to say that,” Leo said.

  “Really?”

  Leo nodded sleepily.

  I didn’t know what made me think of it or use it that night. Later, I’d learn it came from Hamlet, that some character had said it after Hamlet had died, and I’d wonder what Mom had been thinking, bidding her only son good night with such ominous words. About many things, though, I wondered what my mother had been thinking.

  She died when I was six years old, so, in a way, she was like a fictional character to me, and a poorly drawn one at that. I knew she was a crime scene investigator, that she fell in love with my father, that she gave up her career for him, and that she died. I remembered that she was pretty (though what mother isn’t to a little girl?), and that she smelled of a particular lavender hand lotion. I wouldn’t recognize the sound of her voice if you played me a recording nor could I recall a single conversation I ever had with her. Though I missed the idea of her, the idea of having a mother, I barely missed her at all. How could you miss someone you didn’t know? Whereas Daddy … My brain was filled with Daddy, but you already know that about me.

  So, it was strange for me to have any memory of my mother, even something as small as remembering what words she had used to bid Leo good night.

  “Do you miss her?” I asked, sitting back down on his bed.

  “Sometimes,” Leo said. “My brain … I forgot a lot.” Then he smiled at me. “But you look like her. This, I know. You’re beautiful just like her.” He touched my cheek with the back of his hand. Then he smoothed out the furrow between my brows. Then he wiped away the tear that must have fallen from my eye. “Go to camp, Annie. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, I swear.”

  That night, I dreamed of Teen Crime Scene Summer. I dreamed of Scarlet in my bedroom, helping me decide what to pack. I dreamed of Natty and Leo and Win waving goodbye to me at the train station. I dreamed of my roommate, a skinny red-haired girl, offering me my pick of bunks. I dreamed of white chalk lines on the pavement and evidence in neat plastic bags. I dreamed of ice cream socials and excursions to museums, real ones with paintings inside. How old-fashioned these trips were, but still kind of fun. Best of all, I dreamed of all the people I would meet, how none of them would know anything about me. In New York, I was Anya Balanchine, daughter of a slain crime boss, but outside the state my family was far less famous. Hadn’t Nana once mentioned some other Balanchine from a century back? A choreographer, maybe? A dancer? Yes, I would say I was related to that one. “I’m Anya Balanchine. I come from a long line of ballerinas.”

  I could see it all so clearly.

  XVIII.

  i am betrayed

  THE NEXT DAY, Scarlet and I were getting changed after Fencing when she asked me about Win’s and my plans for the prom. “Do you think you guys will go?” she asked.

  I told her that we hadn’t discussed it yet, but I didn’t see why not. In general, Win liked that sort of thing. And since Fall Formal had been such a debacle, I was planning on asking him this time. “Why?”

  “Well, it’s only a month off, and I’m on the junior planning committee, so …” Her voice trailed off. “And the thing is, someone asked me,” Scarlet said.

  “Already? That’s great!” I kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t tell me. You got back with Garrett Liu.”

  “No …” she said.

  “Who is it?” I teased. “Is it someone who goes to our school? Or some sexy older man?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Who, Scarlet?” The longer she didn’t speak, the more it began to occur to me what (or rather who) her silence might mean. “You can’t mean—”

  “It’s a friends thing. And we’ve been thrown together so much since he’s come back to school. It isn’t romantic. Obviously. Gable’s just someone to go with.”

  There. She’d said the name.

  “Scarlet, you can’t! He’s awful. He’s completely awful,” I sputtered. I shook my head. There were no words. I couldn’t even look at her.

  “He’s changed, I swear. You’ve seen Gable. He’s different than he once was. How could he not be? After what happened to him, I mean. He lost his foot, Annie. I … I feel sorry for him, I guess.”

  “Is that it?” I asked. “You feel sorry for him?”

  “I … Look, it’s not like I’m Miss Popularity myself. No one ever asks me anywhere. They think I’m the … weird drama girl. Or Anya Balanchine’s odd friend. I might be silly, but I know what people say. And what do you care anyway? You have Win.”

  “Scarlet, you know that’s not the point! The point is”—what was the point?—“the point is, we’re talking about the boy who practically tried to rape me the night before school started.”

  “I asked him about that. He said you misunderstood—”

  “I did not misunderstand!”

  “Listen a second, would you? He said you misunderstood, but only a little. That he wanted to have sex with you, but that he would never have forced himself on you, even if Leo hadn’t shown up. Either way, he knows he was wrong. He was in the wrong. He shouldn’t have gone into your bedroom that night. He shouldn’t have said the things he said after either. He knew you were a good Catholic girl—that’s what he said, Annie, ‘a good Catholic girl’—and that he never should have put you in that position. He knows he took advantage of your situation. He knows, Annie. And he’s sorry. We spent hours talking about what happened between you two. I couldn’t even consider going with him if I didn’t believe he was really and truly contrite.”

  “He’s lying, Scarlet. He’s manipulating you.” I tried to control my breathing. I was dangerously close to saying or doing something awful to Scarlet, and despite her current betrayal, she had been a very good friend to me.

  “There’s one other thing. I promised not to tell you this, but his parents wanted to sue your family over Gable’s poisoning. But Gab
le talked them out of it. He said it was his fault for asking for the chocolate. He took all the blame and told them that the rest was an unfortunate accident—”

  “It was an accident! How noble of him, Scarlet, admitting that what was an accident was an accident!”

  “Yes, but Gable had and has a lot of medical bills, so even though it was his own gluttony that led to his poisoning—”

  I interrupted her. “Listen to me, Scarlet. If you go to prom with Gable Arsley, we can’t be friends anymore.”

  Scarlet shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears. “Gable said you would say that, but I thought he was wrong. Your life has been hard, but you are not the only person in the world who suffers, Annie. Gable has been suffering. All you have to do is open your eyes and look at him to see how much.” She took a deep breath. “People do change.”

  “Gable Arsley has not changed.”

  “I was talking about me. I love you, Annie. I love your whole family. I love Leo and Natty and I would do anything for you, but I want to do something for me for a change.”

  “You consider going to prom with the gimpy boy something for you?” I said cruelly. “Perhaps you’ve set your standards a tad low, Scar.”

  “That remark was below you,” she said. She picked up her schoolbag and left the locker room.

  I used my last quarter to splash my face. I seriously felt like I might kill someone.

  I went into the cafeteria. Scarlet must have already been in the lunch line. I didn’t see Win, but across the chessboard floor of the cafeteria, I did see Gable Arsley.

  At this point, the whole world went into slow motion.

  I was running toward Gable.

  I picked up a tray from one of the other tables.

  “Hey! That’s my food!” called Chai Pinter, but her voice sounded like she was under water.

  Now I was running toward him carrying the tray, red sauce splashing in tiny spikes.

  Suddenly, I was standing an inch in front of him. I was about to pour the lasagna over his head when I noticed his face. The ruined texture of it. The strange pinkish hue where the skin graft was. And farther down, the missing fingertips which, had they been there, might have pointed me toward his missing foot.

  I felt Win’s hand on my arm.

  And then Scarlet was there, too. “Anya, leave him alone! Please, you have no idea how much pain he’s in.”

  “Shh,” Gable said to Scarlet. “It’s fine.”

  I set the tray on the table in front of Gable.

  I leaned down. It was the most intimate I’d been with Gable since that afternoon at the rehab center. My cheek was lightly brushing his cheek when I whispered in his ear, “You may have Scarlet fooled, but you and me have known each other too long, Gable. If anything ever happens to her, don’t expect to live. You know who my family is and what they’re capable of.”

  “I thought you were going to pour that lasagna over my head again,” Gable cracked. “Just like old times.”

  I didn’t reply. I wouldn’t sit with Gable and Scarlet. Or speak to them either. I picked up Chai Pinter’s tray and returned it to her.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Ooh, is something happening between Gable and Scarlet?” Chai asked. “Are you totally mad?”

  I walked away without answering. I sat down at a table that was as far away from Gable as possible. Win sat down across from me. He took an orange out of his bag and began to peel it.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Not for sure. I kind of thought something might be happening, but … I honestly thought they might just be friends.”

  “That’s what Scarlet claimed, but still. It’s the principle of the thing. She wants to go to prom with him. Can you imagine the absurdity of that?”

  Win broke off a section of orange for me. “Prom, by definition, is sort of absurd, Annie. The tuxedos. The ball gowns. The punch bowl. I don’t see how Scarlet going with Gable makes it any more absurd than normal.”

  “Whose side are you on here?”

  “Yours,” Win replied. “But also theirs,” he added with a sigh. “One of the best things about your friend Scarlet is how compassionate she is. No one at our entire school likes Gable Arsley, Annie. Every single one of his old friends abandoned him. If we hadn’t eaten lunch with him, he would have eaten alone. You know this. So, I can’t help but think that if Scarlet can find it in her heart to be kind to Gable Arsley, who are we to stop her?”

  “But she betrayed me, Win. How can I ever forgive that?”

  Win shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Annie. She happens to be the most loyal friend you have.”

  For a guy whose father was a tough political operative, Win sure was naïve. Daddy used to say you could assume a person was loyal until the day she betrayed you. Then you should never trust her again.

  “So I guess we won’t be double-dating to prom?” Win joked.

  “Technically I think it’s too soon for that sort of joke,” I told him. “And furthermore, I don’t think I agreed to go with you yet.” I was annoyed that he’d ruined my plan to ask him.

  “But you will,” he said. “I’m the only friend you have left.”

  I threw an orange slice at him.

  Halfway through Mr. Weir’s class, I was summoned to Headmaster’s office. I assumed it was something to do with my lunchtime behavior. Either someone (Chai Pinter perhaps? Or Scarlet—who knew what she was capable of?) had reported me for running across the cafeteria like a madwoman or, alternatively, Gable himself had tattled about the threats I’d whispered in his ear. In any case, it was annoying. I hadn’t done anything to anyone. Considering the circumstances, I thought I’d shown admirable restraint. “They’re waiting for you,” the school secretary said as I entered the foyer.

  Who’re they? I thought.

  Two police officers were seated in front of Headmaster’s desk. I recognized one of them from last fall when I’d been arrested. This seemed a bit excessive for what had happened at lunch. They couldn’t arrest me for running across a cafeteria carrying a tray that wasn’t mine. Could they?

  “Hello, Anya,” Headmaster said. “Have a seat.”

  I didn’t.

  “Detective Frappe,” I said to the one I recognized. “You cut your hair.”

  “I had it relaxed,” Frappe replied. “Thanks for noticing. So, let’s get to it, shall we? You aren’t in any trouble, Anya, but we do need to talk to you about something that’s happened.”

  I nodded. My heart was beginning to flutter, and my stomach felt like there was an elastic band around it.

  “Your brother, Leo, tried to kill Yuri Balanchine this morning with your father’s gun.”

  I asked her to repeat what she had said. These words made no sense to me.

  “Your brother shot your uncle with your father’s gun.”

  “How did they know it was my father’s gun?” I asked numbly.

  “Your cousin Mickey was there, and he recognized it as such. Red handle. The words Balanchine Special Dark on the side.”

  If Mickey was right, it was the Smith & Wesson that had gone missing so long ago.

  “You said ‘tried to kill’ Yuri. Does that mean Uncle Yuri is still alive?” I asked.

  “Yes, but he’s in serious condition. The bullet punctured his lung and he went into cardiac arrest,” Frappe replied. “He’s in the ICU.”

  I nodded. I didn’t know if it would be better or worse for Leo if Yuri survived. “Is Leo alive?” I asked.

  “Yes, but no one knows where he is. He shot once, then ran before anyone could stop him.”

  “Is he hurt?”

  Frappe didn’t know. “Your cousin Mickey shot defensively, but he wasn’t sure if he hit him or not.”

  Poor Leo. He was probably so scared. Why had I ever allowed him to work at that place?

  “Have any idea why your brother would have wanted to shoot Yuri Balanchine?” the other cop asked.

  I
shook my head.

  “So, you’ll get in touch with us if Leo tries to contact you? I think you’ll agree that it’d be better for him if he ends up in our hands before he ends up in your family’s.”

  I smiled and nodded and thought, Like hell I’ll turn Leo over to the police.

  The police left, but I couldn’t move. Headmaster walked over to me. She placed her hand on mine. “Do you have anyone watching you at home? Leo was your guardian if I’m not mistaken? If there’s no one to supervise you and your sister, I’ll have to call Child Protective Services, Anya.”

  “Yes.” And here, I stretched the truth. “We have a nanny. Her name is Imogen Goodfellow. She used to take care of Galina and now she watches us.” I wrote down Imogen’s phone number for Headmaster. Next, I asked her if Natty and I could take the rest of the day off in case Leo tried to go back to the apartment.

  “Of course, Anya,” Headmaster replied. “Be careful on your way home. There’re already reporters out there.”

  I looked out the window. Sure enough, there was a hornet’s nest of press standing on the sidewalk outside Holy Trinity.

  Headmaster sent someone to get Natty from class and I asked if I could use the phone while I waited. I called Mr. Kipling and Simon Green. At the very least we would need a car to drive us home. I explained what had happened. For a moment, neither man spoke, and I wondered if the line had gone dead. “I’m sorry, Anya,” Mr. Kipling said finally. “This news is truly beyond comprehension.”

  “Do you think Natty and I will need protection coming home?”

  “No,” Mr. Kipling said. “The family likely won’t make any moves until Yuri’s condition has stabilized. And even if they did, it’s Leo they’ll want to kill, not you.”

  When Natty arrived in the office, I told her about Leo. I expected her to cry, but she didn’t. “Let’s go light candles for Leo in the chapel,” she said, wrapping her small hand around mine.

  I agreed that it certainly couldn’t hurt anything. “We’ll need vouchers,” I said.

  But in my heart, I didn’t think it would help much either.