DONALD MCARTHUR. Could we dispense with the “we’re all friends here” act?
DET. STALGIONE. Your attorney’s a cynic.
DONALD MCARTHUR. Detectives.
DET. RAMIREZ. Fine. No problem.
DET. STAGLIONE. How long have you known Matthew Barker, Jamie?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Since second grade.
DET. RAMIREZ. So more than ten years?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. I guess so.
DET. STAGLIONE. Where was that?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Sorry?
DET. STAGLIONE. Where did the two of you attend second grade?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Don’t you know that already?
DET. RAMIREZ. Just answer the question, Jamie.
DONALD MCARTHUR. I’m going to ask you to take a less combative tone with my client, Detective. Mister Reynolds is not under arrest, and is cooperating fully with your investigation.
DET. STAGLIONE. Of course. Sorry about that. So can you tell us where you met Matthew Barker?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. At Sacred Heart.
DET. RAMIREZ. Sacred Heart Preparatory School? On West 75th?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. So you did know. Why ask me?
DET. STAGLIONE. We’re interested in your recollection of events, Jamie. In what you can and can’t remember. We’re not trying to trick you.
JAMIE REYNOLDS. I met Matt at Sacred Heart. Like I said.
DET. RAMIREZ. OK. Do you remember what you thought of him?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. What do you mean?
DET. RAMIREZ. Your initial impression.
JAMIE REYNOLDS. I was seven.
DET. STAGLIONE. So that’s a no?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. We were kids. I don’t remember any more than that.
DET. RAMIREZ. Was he popular?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Matt?
DET. RAMIREZ. Yes.
JAMIE REYNOLDS. I don’t know. I mean … I guess so. Yeah. People liked him.
DET. STAGLIONE. What about later on? At Riley?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. He was quiet. He always has been, I guess. So he wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school. He didn’t play football, and he wasn’t into the kind of activities that Riley kids care about.
DET. RAMIREZ. Which activities are those?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Usual shit. Debate. Band. Model UN.
DET. STAGLIONE. And Matt wasn’t into any of those?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. No.
DET. STAGLIONE. So what was he into?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Usual stuff, I guess. He liked movies, liked TV, liked games. He read a lot. He wrote stuff, too, although he never let me read any of it.
DET. RAMIREZ. What sort of stuff?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Stories. Comics too, I think. I know he used to draw a lot, when we were younger.
DET. STAGLIONE. But he wasn’t unpopular?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. No.
DET. RAMIREZ. Did he seem happy to you?
JAMIE REYNOLDS. What does that look like?
DET. STAGLIONE. I don’t know, Jamie. You were his friend.
JAMIE REYNOLDS. Yeah. He seemed happy enough.
March 14th
Journal entry 2
I went to Whole Foods with Jamie after school let out, because he read somewhere that you burn more calories drinking wheatgrass juice than there are calories in wheatgrass juice. Which is really, obviously bullshit, but he says he wants to lose ten pounds before the summer because apparently he’s turned into the kind of person who thinks you are supposed to weigh a certain amount at a certain time of the year and I just didn’t have the energy to call him out on it. He bought two litres of the stuff and all I could think about was how green his piss is going to be before he goes to bed tonight.
We walked back through the park and he was talking about how Steve Allison has been talking shit about Lauren to anyone who will listen since she dumped him while apparently texting her about a hundred times a day asking her to take him back. I didn’t really say much, even though I knew more about it than he did. He knows that we’re friends – or at least, that we used to be – but he doesn’t know we text all the time, because I’ve never told him. Like I said, it’s nice to have at least one secret.
Like most of the boys at Riley, Jamie is at least a little bit in love with Lauren. I sometimes think I’m the only person who could put their hand on their heart and honestly say that they’re not. It’s not like I blame them – she’s pretty and funny and smart and popular – but that’s just not how I see her. I think I’ve known her too long for that. And it’s hard to crush on someone who sends you videos of people walking across railway crossings and getting splattered by trains.
Anyway.
She’s not the hottest girl at school. Last year there was a senior at Riley called Erin whose older sister is a Victoria’s Secret Angel, and she was just about the best-looking person I’ve ever seen in real life. It sort of hurt to look at her, if that makes any sense. The school email server almost burned down two Septembers ago when she “accidentally” sent a folder of photos of herself in about a dozen different bikinis on the beach at Cabo San Lucas to everyone in the cheerleading squad and the athletics programs. I don’t think there’s ever been a link that was forwarded and downloaded more quickly in the history of the internet.
Lauren isn’t as pretty as Erin was. But Lauren would also never send a folder of photos of herself in swimwear to half the senior class and claim it was an accident, so she’s got that going for her.
Lauren’s mom doesn’t work, because her dad is this insanely sought-after gynecologist. He’s clearly an asshole – he’s tall and handsome and loud and is one of those guys who really pride themselves on being CHARMING – but he’s funny, if nothing else. I was talking to him once at a parent–teacher event at Riley and he told me he’s the only man in the world who has seen more supermodel vaginas than Leonardo DiCaprio. Lauren looked like she was going to die from embarrassment, but I just about fell over laughing.
I actually ran into her on Central Park West this morning and we walked to school through the park together. That happens maybe once or twice a week, and it’s a good start to the day. We talked and we walked and we got coffee at one of the little carts in the park and about ten minutes later we got to Riley and told each to have a good day.
It was nice, like it always is.
In all honesty, I was glad to see her this morning because I was in a shitty mood by the time I left our apartment.