Jake and Hal went back and forth, and eventually they agreed that the rest of the partygoers would be charged with trespassing or misdemeanor vandalism. As they finished up, Jake made one more push. “What about the Finch kid?” he asked. “We have multiple sources claiming that he supplied the drugs at the party. Are we really just going to let him off with a vandalism charge?”

Jake had barely finished speaking before Hal started shaking his head. “Did you recover any drugs?” Hal asked. “No? Then there’s no case.”

The charges were filed the next morning, and those named had until Monday to surrender to the police for arraignment. The DA’s office sent out a press release, and there was a small item in the local paper listing the charges, as well as the names of all those who were over eighteen. Jake skimmed it as he sat in his office. There was a bland quote from Hal, saying that the perpetrators must be held accountable for their actions, but Jake couldn’t help but notice that his own name appeared nowhere in the story, despite the fact that he was the one running the case.

30

On the morning that the charges were filed, rumors flew through the school about who was and wasn’t being charged. Will hadn’t heard anything before class, but he was pretty sure that there would be bad news waiting for him when he got home.

After school, he stood in line in the auditorium to pick up his graduation cap and gown and scanned the crowd, thinking about how many of those kids had partied on the booze that he and Trip brought to the party. One of his track teammates was standing in front of him in line. “I heard a lot of people talked to the cops,” the kid said. “Right before graduation too. Sucks.”

“Were you there?” Will asked. He was just making conversation, but his teammate drew back from him as if he was contagious. “Why?” he asked. “Looking for a name to give the cops?”

“No!” Will said. “No, I don’t know why I asked. I haven’t said a word to the cops about anyone.”

“Well, I wasn’t there,” the kid said tersely. “I wasn’t invited.”

“Lucky you,” Will replied.

At home, Will pulled up the driveway and sat in the truck for a minute. When he finally forced himself to go inside, his parents were sitting at the kitchen table under the glow of the fluorescent light, piles of paperwork spread out before them. The dogs were laying at their feet, heads resting on their paws forlornly. Will had expected some sort of explosion, but his parents just looked at him. Will sat down and tossed his bag onto the empty chair, and his graduation cap slipped out of the half-zipped bag. His father glanced at it.

“A lotta good that’s gonna do you now,” he said.