I forced myself to face her. I forced myself to keep my expression cold and hard. But I wanted so badly to tell her the truth. I wanted her encouragement and her advice and her help. I knew all this was visible in my eyes. I knew Beth must’ve seen it there. Still, I kept up the pretense. I had to.
“Look,” I told her, “it just… It isn’t right, that’s all. You and me. It’s a mistake.”
“Don’t say that.” Where my voice was strained and false, her tone was simple and straightforward. “You know that’s not true.”
“You’re just going to get hurt, Beth.” Now I really was pleading with her. All my playacting at being tough and cold was falling apart. “That’s all I’m trying to tell you, all right? I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Beth wouldn’t let me off the hook. “You have to tell me what’s wrong,” she insisted.
“Look…” I tried again. “Look, I can’t. I can’t tell you.
Okay? We have to end it, that’s all. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“No,” Beth said. “We can’t. I mean, haven’t you been paying attention? We don’t have the right to just end this. We didn’t make it and we can’t end it.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I said sourly.
But I did. I knew exactly what she meant. In stories, in movies, people fall in love all the time. They get all passionate and the music rises and they overcome all obstacles to be together and live happily ever after. But I don’t believe that happens to everyone. I don’t even believe it happens to most people. I think, in fact, it’s a rare thing to find your soul mate, to find the real, lasting love of your life-and, young as we were, I knew, down deep, as surely as I knew anything, that Beth and I had found ours.
Beth stepped up to me. She put her hand on my arm. This time I didn’t have the willpower to pull away. “Charlie, look at me,” she said. Once again, I forced myself to meet her eyes. “Charlie, this thing happening with us-it doesn’t happen to everyone. They say it does in the movies, but it doesn’t. It’s special. You know that, right?”
What could I say? She seemed to be taking the thoughts right out of my brain. “Yeah,” I confessed helplessly. “I know it.”
“Then you know we can’t just throw it away because there’s some kind of trouble,” Beth said.
I tried one more time to sound tough, to bluff this out. “I’m not trying to throw it away, I’m just… Aw, Beth.” I was finished. I couldn’t keep it up anymore. I couldn’t resist her, or my love for her, or the truth of what she was saying. I bowed my head and dug the heels of my palms into my eyes, as if I could hold in my misery. “I don’t even know what to do.”
“Just tell me what’s happening,” Beth said quietly.
The struggle inside me was epic at that point. I wanted so badly to tell her everything, but I knew that if I did I would become useless to Waterman and his people, useless in the fight against the Homelanders.
I was answering her before I even figured out what I wanted to say. “It’s the worst thing,” I told her. “The worst thing ever.” Now all pretense was gone. I reached out for her. I took her by the shoulders. I was desperate to hold her. “They’re coming for me, Beth,” I said.
She looked up at me, mystified. “Who? Who is?”
“The police. They’re going to arrest me.” I nearly choked on the words.
“Arrest you? For what?” Then I saw her figure it out: “For Alex? How do you know?”
I wanted to tell her the whole truth, but if I didn’t lie to her now, everything was over. I said: “I know. That detective… Detective Rose. He called my dad. They… they found a knife. A combat knife. It’s the murder weapon and… Well, they say it has my fingerprints on it and my DN A. And they say there are traces of Alex’s blood on my clothes.”
In fact, the call had come after I’d left the house that morning, but I’d known it was coming, Waterman had warned me. And I already knew what the call was going to say.
Beth stared up at me. “There has to be some kind of mistake. I mean, how could that happen?”
“I don’t know. I…” The urge to tell her the whole truth was almost overwhelming. I closed my eyes, fighting it back. And now, it was as if a dam broke inside me and my feelings flooded through. I couldn’t tell Beth the whole truth, but there was a piece of the truth I had to tell her. I wouldn’t be able to go through with this if I didn’t.
“Listen to me, Beth,” I said tensely. “All right? Listen because… well, because I need you to get this. I didn’t kill him. Okay? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, no matter what it looks like, I didn’t kill Alex. “I won’t.” You looked at me before and you knew I was lying. Now I need you to look at me and believe I’m telling the truth.”
Beth didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. “I am,” she said softly. “I do.”
“Never stop,” I told her. My voice broke as the emotion surged through me. “Okay? Never stop believing it. No matter what happens.”
Then I couldn’t stand it anymore. I couldn’t stand the sight of her face lifted to me, the trust in her eyes. I took her into my arms and held her against me as hard as I could. “You were right,” I whispered into her ear. “You were right and I was wrong. The stuff I feel for you-I didn’t make it and it isn’t mine to throw away. And I won’t. I can’t.”
“I can’t either. And I won’t, Charlie. I promise.”
“No matter what happens.”
“No matter what.”
I wanted to hold on to her forever-but without warning, she was gone. Suddenly, I was standing in front of my school, my arms empty, my heart heavy as lead. There were police cars everywhere, their lights turning, the red and blue flashing in the morning air.
I looked around, trying to get my bearings. There was Detective Rose, coming toward me down the school’s front path. There were other uniformed officers-a lot of them, dozens of them, it seemed like-closing in on me from every side.
The time had come. I was going to be arrested.
I kept turning, scanning the scene. I saw Mr. Woodman, the principal, looking down at me from the school steps, his face tight with worry and concern. I saw the faces of the other kids at school-my friends, acquaintances- pressed to the school windows, looking out at me, watching.
And I saw my mother. That was the worst part. I saw my mother crying. My father was there, his arms around her as she pressed her face against him and sobbed. I wished she could know that I had chosen this, that it was my way of fighting for what I knew was right. I knew she would be proud of me if she knew the truth. Now, she was just heartbroken.
My dad called out to me: “It’s all right, Charlie! It’s going to be all right! Just stay cool. Don’t say anything till we get a lawyer for you! It’s going to be all right!”
As Rose continued to come toward me over the school’s front lawn-as the other policemen continued to close in around me-I kept casting my eyes this way and that over the faces of teachers-teachers I’d known for years-and the faces of kids and parents I’d known all my life.
Then, my eyes lit on one face that stood out from the others.
Mr. Sherman. He was standing off to one side of the main building. His face-his expression-was not like the others’. The other teachers-the other students too- they all looked serious: sad, worried, even grief-stricken. But Sherman just looked… interested. As the police surrounded me, he kind of cocked his head to one side and bit his lip as if he was giving the whole situation some very serious thought.
The next thing I knew, they had me. Rose grabbed my arm with one hand and my shoulder with the other. He forced me to turn around and then grabbed my other arm and twisted both my arms behind my back.
“Charlie West,” he said, “I’m arresting you for the murder of Alex Hauser.”
“I didn’t do it,” I said.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Rose responded in a monotone. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
I turned to see my mother, crying in my father’s arms.
“Mom,” I shouted to her. “I didn’t do it. I swear.”