Twisted Fate by Norah Olson Page A

away with more because he’s a boy. Becky has a little more poise for some reason, I suspect ’cause she gets a little more parenting. But Tate’s got a lot of pressure. Hell, you know it’s still a harder world for girls, and for some reason this kid with everything going for her is making it even harder on herself.”
    “And she’s been making it harder on herself for years,” Fitzgerald said.
    “Anybody ever have a nice long talk with her parents?” Richards asked.
    He shook his head and laughed. “If we could track them down,” he said, and Syd felt butterflies in her stomach and the hair on the back of her neck go up as he talked about her parents. “Funny family,” he said, scratching his head. “Never available. Rarely home. Her father’s a builder. Salt-of-the-earth, back-country Mainer who made good. Buty’know, sometimes even I can barely understand what he’s saying. Accent so thick. The money comes from her mother’s side, and that family owns half the state. Apparently they met when Mrs. Tate was home from college and he was doing some work on one of her parents’ houses in Kennebunk. Or that’s the gossip, anyway. Can’t say I’ve been able to have a decent conversation with either one of them. Even back when Tate started that fire in the chemistry lab freshman year. I told them about it—the mother said, ‘I see,’ and a week later we had an anonymous gift for state-of-the-art lab equipment. But no change in the kid’s behavior at all.”
    Richards shook her head. “That is the last thing in the world a kid like that needs. No consequences.”
    “Tell me about it,” Fitzgerald said. “Between her and Declan we got just about no authority. It’s hard to tell kids their grades will suffer if they screw off when the two of them are like the poster boy and girl for the benefits of having an attitude problem. Sure to be valedictorian and salutatorian—one or the other of them, and they’re both little pains in my ass. Never seen anything like it.”
    “Trick is to keep them busy,” Richards said. “Find a way to direct them, maybe.”
    “Well, that’s true for Declan,” Fitzgerald said. “Soon as the Model UN or chess club starts he’s out of everyone’s hair for a while and his detentions go down. But Tate? She’s a special case. You’ll see, Mandy, you’ll see.”

00:00–13:42—Swing set
    15:04—Cheerleading practice
    18:51—Pine Grove Inn

    Dear Lined Piece of Paper,
    If they would let me stay home from school, I could get so much done! Already in the days since we’ve moved here I feel like I am on to something that’s made me feel better than ever. It might be the drugs, sure, of course it could be the new drugs, especially given the fact that I’ve decided to adjust my own dosage! Not sure how Dr. Adams calculates these things but I was reading online and actually nothing major will happen to my liver if I take even four times as much as they have me on. That means FOUR TIMES as relaxed. And FOUR TIMES as focused and FOUR TIMES better at getting everything done. So it might be the drugs but I think it’s actually a wholenew way of thinking about life!
    I always believed it was best to see life from a distance, record it from a distance. And then watch it. We think we remember the way things are but we don’t. That’s why I don’t even understand why I’m supposed to go to Dr. Adams. If he wants to know what happened he can just look at the footage. How am I supposed to talk about what I remember from years ago? Those things might not be accurate. Anyway, now I think I can get it right. I just need the perfect subject. I need the perfect character. I need someone who is brave and sweet and full of life, like Eric! I need a partner! And I know just the person. I don’t know how I’ll be able to put the camera down to go to school. But I figure I can get myself a smaller camera. Something tiny I can carry on a lanyard. Something people won’t even