It takes her a second, but she eventually nods.
“Well … part of what happened next is what the fire department determined, and the rest I figured out myself. Victoria Waldorf found it, and she took it in one of the back boiler rooms and lit it on fire.”
I watch her carefully, looking for any sign of recognition. Seeing none, I continue.
“It caused an explosion. The Christmas party was so full of people, and …” I trail off, not really knowing how to tell her the rest.
Dana grimaces in pain, but I can see that it’s more from her heart than from her body. “Was anyone else hurt?” she asks me, and my heart sinks again.
Really, no one’s told her anything?
I try hard to swallow the lump in my throat, and I take a deep breath. “Um … yeah. There were lots of people hurt, and … there were even a few that … that didn’t make it through.”
Her mouth falls open and I understand that she really didn’t know anything about it. Maybe I should have let her parents tell her when the time was right.
No. There’s never a right time for this. If I know Dana at all … I know she wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard to watch how it affects her.
Dana’s eyes well up with tears and she chokes on a sob. “Anyone … anyone I knew?”
I bite my lower lip, and answer her in a soft voice. “Maybe.”
I list out the names of those who died. Two I knew, Alisha Kane and Chris Hardy. The rest, including the unfortunate man Eli, the Columbia rep, brought with him were strangers. But their deaths still weigh heavily on me.
Dana closes her eyes tightly to try to squeeze the tears in, but they push through her dark lashes and stream down her pink cheeks.
She can’t breathe, and for a long moment, neither can I. We feel the pain of the loss of our classmates together.
It’s devastating to think of the people we once knew. I remember Sadie White, and I think how surreal it when she died … and I knew her even less than the others. I stole her identity to go to Hawthorne, but I didn’t really know her, and when she died I wasn’t broken up about it.
This time, I was there. Dana was there. Dana could have been killed, and in fact, she’s damn lucky she wasn’t.
“When are the funerals?” she asks, opening her wet eyes again and looking at me. “Or did I miss that too?”
I shake my head. “There’s a memorial at the school today. Their parents are letting us all say goodbye, before the families take them and bury them somewhere else. They agreed that all the students should get to say goodbye together.”
I wonder if those same parents would be so generous if they knew it was the actions of a vengeful student that got their children killed. If they knew it wasn’t some freak accident, would they behave differently? Would I?
Dana lifts her hand carefully and wipes at her eyes. “That’s good. That’s really good. I know it will mean so much to so many people.” She frowns a little then and looks sharply at me, as realization dawns on her. “Wait. What about Victoria? Has she being arrested or anything?”
I shake my head. “No. No one knows what she did except her and me, and she isn’t coming forward of course. They’re just calling it an accident, and that’s it.”
I see the rosy color bloom upward over Dana’s face as her heartache turns to anger, or something much deeper. She’s been in love with Victoria since they met at school in their first years, so this comes as the biggest surprise of all.
Maybe she damaged the part of her brain that loved Victoria too.
“She’s getting away with it? With murder? Those people are dead because of her!” She’s breathless, her words tumbling out with the same righteous indignation that’s been bubbling over in me. “Their families will never be the same again because of her! And she’s just going to get away with it?” The volume of Dana’s voice shoots up several decibels. I’ve never seen her this furious.
“Dana,” I sigh and my shoulders slump a little. “There’s no proof. There’s no evidence to tie her to it, and no one’s going to take my word for it. Not when I’m a liar and she’s Victoria freaking Waldorf.”
Dana narrows her eyes and looks away from me bitterly. “I don’t know how I ever fell in love with her, or why, but I’ll tell you this. I’m done.”
I arch up an eyebrow, and have to keep the skepticism out of my voice. “Really?”
She nods. “I’ve put up with enough of her crap; watching her hurt the people I love, watching her destroy lives. Literally. There’s nothing left about her to love.”
I think she means it, and though I want to rejoice … now doesn’t seem the time. I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze.