Page 23 of What Boys Learn

“I answered your questions.”

“Yes, you did.”

I went to the kitchen to get my own plate of pizza and when I came back, Benjamin was watching a video on his phone. A male voice droned uninterrupted in a way that told me it wasn’t TikTok. I didn’t assume it was a coincidence he’d pulled up that video and was playing it now, when he knew I could hear it.

I peered toward his phone. “Isn’t that the guy who believes climate change, white privilege, and the oppression of women are all lies?”

Benjamin shrugged. “He’s a psychologist, like you are.” He paused meaningfully. “Oralmostare.”

I made an effort to sound less critical. “He seems bitter, but maybe there’s a reason. I wonder if some woman broke his heart.”

Benjamin started to smile. “Damaged goods. You think?”

He entered the man’s name followed bychildhood photosinto the search box. “Five-dollar bet he was an ugly kid. You up for it?” He held up a pointer finger, ready to search.

“No! That’s not the point. You shouldn’t be looking for reasons to shame him.”

“Who said I wanted to shame him? I wanted to see if he was weird looking. To see if other people shamed him.”

I turned away from the screen. “What an assumption.”

“And your assumption, that he was a failure with girls, is nicer?”

“Just stop watching his videos.”

He laughed. Of course he wasn’t going to stop watching any video just because I said so. He’d probably watch them more. For now, he slid the phone between his thigh and the couch cushion.

“You don’t want me to learn anything.”

“Of course I want you to learn things.”

I sighed, remembering the time I made him look up why a “Blue Lives Matter” T-shirt might be offensive, and explain it back to me, before I let him wear it to school on a casual Friday. He ended up writing an English paper about it, pretending to defend the slogan. When he got an A, he showed me the paper. Then he told me it was all a joke, a put-on, and the teacher had bought it.Teachers are dumb. Cops are dumb, too.

I knew he felt that way about social media and just about everything else. He was too smart to be influenced. On top of that, he deplored trends. If I asked him about something specific—sigmas, “looksmaxxing”—he’d wince.

That’s cringe, Mom.

And I got that. If I saw some specific bit of teen slang decoded inPeoplemagazine, it was already three years out of date. Google searches could only take a parent so far.

When Benjamin left for the bathroom, I checked my voicemail.

“Mrs. Rosso? It’s Detective Hernández. I’d like to talk to you again. Call me?”

He sounded friendly, the way he’d been when I talked with him for fifteen minutes, at school. Young, twenty-five or so, which is young for a detective, I guess. Round cheeks and a dimple that flashed when he smiled. No wonder Robert was jealous of him.

I called back and got his voicemail. “Ms. Rosso here, the counselor from Summit.” I tried to sound helpful. No, Iwantedto be helpful. “Given the terrible news, I imagine you’ll need anything I’ve got on Isabella Scarlatti. I’ll go through my notes and let you know what I find.”

I’d sounded confident enough on the voicemail, but the moment I disconnected, I felt different. Unsettled. Like every next choice was bound to be the wrong one.

9

BEFORE

She’d lost all sense of time by the third beer. At first the drive seemed to take forever and then, a moment later, they were pulled up at a brightly lit gas station that she recognized as being near the forest preserve and she was being told to buy chips and Red Bull. When she took too long to unbuckle, she heard the front passenger door open, but then:No, you’re too drunk and there’s a cop in there. Let her run in.

She steeled herself to walk into the gas station mini-mart. Blinding lights. Air-conditioning up high. Too many people in line and standing in the aisles, guy laughing at her as she tried to pull a refrigerator door open and let her hand slip, stumbling back.

Potato chips. Doritos. Red Bull. Hand trying to fish the folded twenty out of her pocket while she looked around for the cop. Maybe he’d gone into the bathroom.