Page 77 of The Debutantes
First, stunned. Then, concerned—Ididjust pepper-spray my own brother right before April camera-whipped him in the head—and then, as soon as it’s clear that he’s not broken or unconscious:pissed.
“What the fuck?” I explode. “What the actual livingfuck,Wyatt!”
He sputters a cough as he sits upright. “Yeah, sure. Help me up. Ask me how I’m doing after you literally maced me in the face.”
“I’ll do it again if you don’t start explaining right now.”
Wyatt groans, yanking off his gloves and wiping them across his eyes. “I didn’t want to do it.”
“What, stalk us?Attackus?”
“I didn’t attack anyone!” Clearly realizing how useless that sounds, he heaves a sigh. “I didn’t want to.”
“Then please enlighten us.”
Wyatt pushes himself up to standing.
“I was initiated a couple weeks after our birthday. Back in October. I didn’t want to—I thought the whole thing wasfucked up—but I had to. Dad didn’t want to do it, either, but it was part of the deal.”
A cold feeling slices through me. “What deal?”
Wyatt rakes a hand through his matted hair. “I…”
“What deal, Wyatt?” I demand, my grip tightening on the pepper spray.
He looks between the three of us before landing back on me.
“You have to swear you won’t tell anyone,” he says. “Or… or I’ll tell everyone what y’all did. The things from the Jester message, the stuff y’all don’t want getting out.”
I stare him down, a hot ball of anger in my throat. Does he really know, or is he bluffing? I glance at April and Vivian, and they both look to me, like they’re waiting for my call. I don’t want to risk it.
“Fine,” I say. “We won’t tell.”
He nods grimly. “It was about a year ago, last winter break. For New Year’s, we all went out to some of the Tulane bars. Me and the guys, and Lily, Savannah, and Vivian.”
Right. Wyatt and his posse spent most of that break getting trashed, while I was holed up in my room, cramming for the February ACT I insisted on taking so I could raise my 34 up to Aiden’s 35. Which I did—even if I’m struggling to remember, now, why that mattered.
“After we left,” Wyatt continues, “Lily and I were walking home, and she was kind of pissed at me. I was pretty wasted, I guess, and she didn’t like when I got like that. So I was already in a mood when this guy comes up to us—this frat-boy asshole—and starts asking Lily if I’m bothering her. If she wants arealman. He’s just fucking taunting me, and Lily—” He stops. “She’s letting him. She’s, like, egging it on, just to piss me off. And so I snapped.”
Vivian’s jaw clenches, her arms folded tight against her chest.
Wyatt clocks it, too, because he adds, “Not at Lily. I would never hurt Lily. But this guy, he got up in my face, and I just lost it. Went at him, started punching. I realized pretty quickly I was a lot stronger than him, but I couldn’t stop, even when Lily was screaming at me. I guess I blacked out a little, and the next thing I remember, he’s on the ground. Just… just fucking pummeled. Bleeding.”
Vivian shakes her head slowly, and April’s face is blank as she grips her camera. I just stare at Wyatt, some irrational part of my brain thinking he must be joking, but the guilt in his eyes is real.
“And then what happened?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level.
“Lily was freaking out, and I was panicking, so we just—we left.” Wyatt shakes his head. “I tried to forget it, like maybe I was so drunk I imagined it. Lily never mentioned it, either, but I could tell from the way she looked at me.” His guilty look shifts to pure devastation. “A week or so later, Detective Marty showed up at our door, and I’m thinking, this is it. They know what I did, and I’m about to get in so much trouble. But then…” Wyatt pauses. “Then he sat me and Dad down, and told us that this frat guy was trying to press charges. Apparently he wound up in the hospital. He was fine in the end, but as soon as he could, he went to the police and gave them my description and Lily’s. Marty said things were looking bad for me, ’cause they caught me on a traffic cam that night, but… there was a way out, if we wanted it.”
Dread settles deep in my stomach.
“He wanted y’all to join the Pierrot,” I guess.
Wyatt nods. “He made it sound so simple. Dad would have to join and start going to the meetings, and then, when I was eighteen, I’d get initiated, too. We had to hide it from you and Mom, but that was it. That’s all we had to do, and the Pierrot would pay off the guy, make him stay quiet. Marty made it sound like this—this brotherhood. This group of guys who had each other’s backs. At the time, I remember thinking it was weird that there wasn’t a catch, nothing else they wanted from us, but it was too good to pass up. So Dad told him yes.”
“But they did want something,” I realize. “They wanted Dad to help cover up Margot’s murder. That was… what? Barely a week after she died?”
He looks down. “I had no idea. I feel like such an idiot now. But yeah, that must have been the deal.”
