The Headmaster's List Read online

  The team, as always, looked strong and fast, moving for the ball and charging for the net as a unit while the coach yelled instructions. A rotation of goalies waiting for their turn had their hands looped through the net, yelling encouragement, and a player took a rocket of a shot at the goal that the keeper expertly punched clear over the net. The ball bounced all the way to Spencer at the track, and she stopped it with her foot.

  Ripley’s tail wagged as Jackson jogged over, his dark hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat. He’d been the one in goal; the way he’d moved sent chills down Spencer’s spine. He threw himself from one end of the net to the other, like he was flying, the last line of defense. Like Ethan, he was good, as one should be on Armstrong’s varsity team. Armstrong’s program, both men’s and women’s, was legendary. Parents from all over the country enrolled their kids just so they could be on the team, hopefully getting looked at by college recruiters.

  Ethan had already gotten offers from recruiters from the University of Michigan. Though, now with everything going on, Spencer wondered if that mattered anymore. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

  Jackson beamed at Spencer when she kicked the ball toward him.

  “Sorry to interrupt your walk,” he said. “Thanks!” He flicked the ball up with his cleat and caught it, then lobbed it over his head back to his team. He didn’t rejoin them right away, though; another goalie was already rotating it. Seeing him in his soccer outfit, a complete departure from his Armstrong uniform, was a welcome surprise. Heat rushed to her cheeks when she noticed how good his legs looked in shorts. Without his glasses too, he looked different, not better, but different, and it made Spencer feel dopey.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He let out a heavy breath, winded from the exercise.

  “Define okay.” She gestured vaguely to her team practicing without her, then to her face with a flourish.

  “Stupid question, sorry.”

  Spencer tipped her head and the corner of her mouth lifted. “It’s okay, I’m just being dramatic. Olivia rubs off on me in ways. Just trying to keep myself from going crazy.”

  Jackson relaxed too and returned the smile. Spencer’s cheeks felt hot, as a knot loosened in her belly ever so slightly.

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said.

  “I don’t know, sometimes I’ll fool even myself.”

  “How come?”

  Spencer wondered how much she should say. But Jackson had the kind of face that made her feel like she could tell him anything, open and honest and true. “I keep seeing flashbacks of the crash. Not just that, but things I remember don’t really add up. Like, I keep seeing Ethan behind the wheel, specifically wearing his favorite green hoodie, but it’s impossible because the hoodie was still in my closet from when I borrowed it from him. It’s like my head is stuffed full of these images and it’s all jumbled up, like memory puke.”

  He looked at her, his brow knit with concern, but he appeared to take her seriously. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well…” She gestured casually. “I’m dealing with it. Thanks, by the way, for helping me today. You made it easier.”

  It was Jackson’s turn to flush. He smiled and looked at his cleats. “No problem.” When his eyes came up and met hers again, she realized she’d been staring and she cleared her throat, forcing herself to get it together. She blamed the painkillers for making her feel warm.

  “I wish I could have done something,” Jackson said. “I feel bad for not being there. Like, maybe I could have changed what happened.”

  “Right. I don’t remember seeing you there. At the party.”

  Jackson nodded. “I was in Santa Barbara coaching at a kids’ overnight soccer camp when I heard the news. Drove all day to get back to be with Ethan, but … he won’t see me.”

  That struck Spencer as odd. “Ethan won’t talk to you?”

  “No, I went to his house, and he turned me away at the door. He’s not acting like himself. That’s what’s bothering me the most.”

  Spencer’s heart broke for Ethan all over again. Sure, they broke up, but she couldn’t help it. If he didn’t even want to be with his best friend, he was hurting, and she felt bad for him. She wasn’t some heartless witch.

  Jackson continued. “He’s got to be really torn up about Chris’s death. He liked the kid, looked after him. Honestly, I think he’s devastated. Like losing a little brother.”

  That was news to Spencer. “Really?” She hadn’t put too much thought into why Chris had been in the car with them.

  “Yeah,” Jackson said. “Remember? Chris was his frosh buddy?”

  “Oh, right.” Last year, incoming freshmen were paired with upperclassmen, and Ethan had gone out of his way to make Chris feel welcome at Armstrong. Spencer felt a little guilty at that. She’d hardly paid any attention to her frosh buddy … Ella? Ellie? Spencer was too busy studying, she’d figured Ella or Ellie would figure out Armstrong soon enough.

  “Anyway, Chris would come over and they’d work on Ethan’s car together or just hang out, playing video games. I think Ethan wanted to look out for him. So yeah … he’s messed up. He won’t talk to anyone; his parents say he just stays up in his room all day and night. I’m not even sure he’s eating. You haven’t talked to him yet, have you?”

  “We broke up. I figured you’d have heard…”

  Jackson’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Sorry. No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, glad to know some people know how to mind their own business, unlike everyone else in this town.”

  He flushed deeply.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for that to come off so harsh.”

  Jackson waved his hands. “No, not that. I just … I get it. I’ve been there.”

  How could she forget. His father. David Chen was a notorious fraudster, convicted a few years ago in New York City. Spencer didn’t know the whole story, but it had been huge news. David Chen had been some kind of hedge fund manager. Spencer wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded like he was making enough money. Apparently, it wasn’t enough money, though, because he was caught siphoning funds from his clients into his personal bank account. As far as Spencer knew, he was still in prison. Jackson’s mom, independently wealthy, moved across the country after that, and took advantage of her celebrity chef status to open a cookie café in downtown Los Angeles. But everyone knew about the Chens, even before they set foot in town. They were treated like outsiders from the start, everyone wondering just how much they knew or were complicit in the crime. People had opinions, and those opinions were hard to change. Spencer didn’t think it was fair, though, to judge the family on what Jackson’s father did, but the inner circle in Brentwood wasn’t always as gracious.

  She cringed. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d picked at old scabs in Jackson’s life. “Sorry,” she said again. “I—Sorry.” What else was there to say?

  “It’s fine, really.” Jackson’s eyes met hers and she didn’t see any animosity there.

  “I’m just not used to literally everyone knowing everything about me.”

  “Yeah,” he said, managing a small smile. “I’m with you on that.”

  “Thanks. I just wish I had all the answers, you know? I hate not knowing what happened that night, even if it’s nothing. I want the truth.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “What I do best—study. I want to document everything that happened that night, the crash, just so I can fill in the gaps in my memory and prove … Just so I know.”

  Jackson puffed out his cheeks as he let out a breath. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  It would be. If she needed someone to help her with schoolwork, she’d need someone to help her with this. “Will you help me? Think of it like an extracurricular project,” she said.

  Amused, Jackson said, “Only you can sell it that well.”

  Spencer allowed herself to smile.

  “But Ethan told the police what happened?” he asked. “He was the one driving, and he was speeding. He ran the intersection. What more do you need to know?”

  Spencer’s gaze drifted across the field, as if a giant sign might have been erected in the past few minutes that would spell out the answers for her, but all she saw was everyone else getting on with their lives, playing sports, living, and Spencer felt like she was stuck in the past.

  After a moment, Jackson asked, “Why do you think there’s more to the story?”

  Spencer twisted her lips, thinking. “I don’t know, I just do…”

  Why did she get in the car with him if they were fighting? They definitely broke up, she remembered that much. Why was Chris in the car with them? Or Tabby? She hardly knew either of those kids. It just didn’t make sense.

  “Tell me,” he said. His voice was soft, and it gave her a little boost of bravery. If she could tell anyone, she could tell Jackson.

  “I’m just not convinced Ethan’s responsible for Chris’s death.”

  Jackson’s eyes widened, but he took it in stride. “Why, though? Do you think something happened that night that he’s trying to hide?”

  It sounded like there was a conspiracy to Spencer. She wasn’t sure she liked the insinuation that something dark was hidden deep in the secrets of secluded parties in the multimillion-dollar housing developments, but if no one else was going to give her answers, she needed to go look for them herself.

  “I know it’s not a lot to go on, but that green hoodie … You just have to believe me that I feel like something is off. I want to know everything about the party.”

  A dimple appeared in Jackson’s cheek as he thought about it. “If there’s even a chance that we can prove he wasn’t responsible, that he didn’t cause it … That it really was just an accident…” He met her gaze solidly. “If we can clear his name, I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Spencer smiled, relieved. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me feel like I’m not crazy.”

  Jackson smiled, then said, “Ethan always talked about what a badass you are. Here it is in action.”

  Spencer had never been one to quit. Some people called it stubbornness, others called it hardheadedness. It was a benefit on and off the field, in her nature from the start. Once she set her mind to something, she never gave up. This was no exception.

  “Some might say it’s my best trait.” She batted her eyelashes and smiled.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  She blushed too, realizing how flirtatious she was acting, and she bit her lip. Flirting with her ex’s best friend felt like trespassing, even though she and Ethan were so over, but she hadn’t meant to in the first place. She didn’t want to get hurt again.

  “Chen!” Jackson’s coach hollered at him from the field, hands on his hips. “Are you going to invite me to your little social gathering? Get back here!”

  “I gotta go,” Jackson said, walking backward. “But you should talk to Ethan. If he won’t listen to me, maybe he’ll listen to you. You might be able to shake some sense into him. I’ll see you in the library tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, tomorrow.” It was one thing she could look forward to after what she still needed to do tonight at the Moore house.

  “See ya later, Ripley!” Jackson said.

  Ripley’s tail wagged at Jackson’s words as Spencer waved, watching him jog back to his practice. Still holding her hand aloft for a moment, she let what happened sink in. Someone believed her. She didn’t feel so alone after all.

  Get Salty: A True Crime Podcast with Peyton Salt

  [Get Salty Intro Music]

  [Transcription note: truncated for length]

  Peyton Salt:

  Before we get into today’s main story, I wanted to update our listeners about the Ethan Amoroso case from last episode.

  Sasha Firth:

  Oh! Spill! I have been obsessed with this case since you first brought it up. Everyone at my school has been talking about it, too. Has anything new happened since he’s been charged?

  Peyton:

  No, unfortunately Ethan has kept a low profile since he returned home under house arrest, waiting to go in front of a judge.

  Sasha:

  Oh, the horror, house arrest in a giant mansion. Gag.

  Peyton:

  I guess now is as good a time as any to reveal to our listeners that this is the start of a new series we’re calling Lifestyles of the Rich and Reckless. We’ll be releasing an episode every week to shine a spotlight upon the toxic glitz and glamour of the privileged class. We’ve had an incredible outpouring of support about Chris Moore’s tragic death, and we’ve gotten thousands of emails from you asking for more details about the fallout. Some big things are coming as we start to plan our episodes as the case unfolds, so be sure to subscribe, stay tuned, and don’t forget to hit up our merch store. We’ve already sold out of our limited-edition buttons for the Chris Moore Memorial Fund, but we still have some other Get Salty swag that you can buy so you can help support the show.

  Sasha:

  Maybe we can get some Lifestyles of the Rich and Reckless stickers up for sale soon!

  Peyton:

  Oh, Sasha! Great idea. Rich kids like Ethan get it way easier than most people in his situation. I don’t feel sorry for him in the least, especially not after I saw Spencer Sandoval, one of the passengers in the car, her first day back at school since the accident. You can see how violent the crash was on her face. It’s horrible to look at. Everyone at Armstrong was buzzing. You couldn’t walk down the hall without hearing her name on everyone’s lips.

  Spencer Sandoval is sporty and cute, her signature look being long brown braids that make her look like she’s ready to spring into action at any moment. Like many victims, the ghosts of the past haunt her. She carries the burdens of her ex-boyfriend’s actions on her shoulders. But she has some very special help from an adorable service animal and a surprising sidekick, Ethan Amoroso’s best friend.

  Jackson Chen is a strong but soft boy-next-door type. He hovers around Spencer, as protective of her well-being as Spencer’s service dog, Ripley. He doesn’t look like the kind of person who would want to be friends with the bad-boy Ethan Amoroso. With a face as easy on the eyes as his, one can’t help but be reminded of a medieval knight, dedicating his life to chivalry and honor. To think the likes of the two of them could be friends with Ethan Amoroso is beyond me, but with Jackson Chen’s family’s history, I can’t help but wonder … But that’s for another episode.

  Spencer was dodging me all day, declining to be interviewed, so I decided to ask what some of her peers were thinking about the whole ordeal.

  [SFX: student chatter, slamming lockers, school bell ringing]

  Luca Navarro (senior):

  I always liked Spencer. She’s nice, smart. She helped me pass my chem tests last year. I hope she gets better soon. It’s really sad what happened. She’s got a dog with her, though, it’s really cool.

  Grace Winkelman (sophomore):

  Spencer Sandoval walked right by Chris’s locker, didn’t even stop at it. I was crying my eyes out all day, looking at his picture, and she didn’t even look once. I was going to go to homecoming with Chris and … and now? It’s not fair!

  Valerie Lee (freshman):

  It’s so scary looking at her face. You just can’t stop staring. Ethan really [BEEP]ed her up.

  Tommy Fernandez (junior):

  That girl? Spencer? So annoying. She’s always so competitive. She’s gotta be the best at everything and it’s so irritating. And she’s got her dog at school, too? Special treatment. Why can’t I bring my dog to school? Oh yeah, cuz I’m not on the Headmaster’s List.

  Hailey Reed (senior):

  I don’t really want to talk about it. Spencer and Ethan are like … I don’t want to say. I feel so bad. Sorry. I just … It’s really hard to talk about it right now.

  [SFX fade out]

  Peyton:

  I’ll be doing my best to try to get an interview with Spencer and Tabby, the other passenger in the car that fateful night. I think it’s super important that we let victims tell their own story, and I won’t give up on an interview. And now, for our main story …

  [End truncated transcript]

  NINE

  SPENCER LINGERED ON THE SIDEWALK, pacing back and forth, staring up at the Moore family’s front door like she was staring down a minotaur. Damn her and her instinctual need to please figures of authority. Why couldn’t she just tell Dr. Diamond she wasn’t ready for this? He should have understood the mental torture she was going through. But it was too late now. They were relying on her to gather some photos for Chris’s memorial. No one else would.

  Ripley sat at her feet, watching her for a signal, her head tipped curiously to one side. At least Ripley didn’t seem intimidated by this errand. Spencer took a breath and steeled herself, then made her way up the driveway, pushing her bike past a car covered in a tarp, and headed toward the bright red door, a week’s worth of newspapers gathered on the welcome mat.

  She’d never been to Mr. Moore’s house before. He was her teacher, after all. She’d only seen him occasionally at the grocery store, where her parents used it as an opportunity to chat and have a small parent-teacher conference while Spencer tried not to be mortified talking to a teacher out in the wild. The Moores lived in a quieter part of Mid-City, off Santa Monica Boulevard. Their Spanish colonial house with its red roof and white walls stood out in the verdant brush that surrounded the property. It was a medium-sized house, definitely bigger than Spencer’s, but it had a large yard, a novelty in the area, for sure.

  She looked up at the dark windows on the second floor and wondered, morbidly, which one had been Chris’s.