Turn the Tables

by LJ Byrne

  And then the twins return, as well as the Maverick siblings, and Lucas’s façade goes back up. His sneer, that cold smile, his haughty attitude slam back in place.

  Katrina laughingly informs me that Mason managed to get a tan, but that she was busy texting Bruce. And yes, they are going to the dance together. That revelation forces me to think about the awkward way I left Charles hanging. I am a coward.

  March blurs into April, and I’m caught in the wave of academics. There are papers, experiments, and discussion groups. I return gifts the Elite boys send to me: additional chocolate, jewelry (seriously, are they daft?), books, bags (that one puzzled me, too), tickets to concerts, etc. It takes until May for them to understand that I won’t accept anything from them.

  Slowly, piece by piece, Charles and I mend our friendship. It isn’t the same. I realize he likes me more than a friend, and I can’t explain to him why I don’t feel the same. I do the dumbest thing. I leave my decision to chance – a perilous chance – and grab Brock’s card.

  When I tell him, Brock grins, saying, “I knew we had magic between us, sweetheart.” I don’t dissuade him.

  But I’m also not blind to the coldness that creeps over Lucas and Mason when they learn. I’m not blind to our reduced interactions or the chill in our working sessions. I’m not ready to explain my reasons – and maybe I’m just not ready to be as open as I want to be.

  It’s only Oliver who bothers to speak openly to me after my decision. “I hope you don’t regret your choice,” he says, and there’s a weird finality in his voice.

  CHAPTER 13

  On impulse, I finally use the credit card Elizabeth Maverick gave me. It’s only later that I recognize that by falling prey to material desires, I’ve cursed myself. I buy a blue sheath dress with spaghetti straps. It’s simple but elegant and decadent.

  In the interim, I work on my composition for the last day of the year show. I don’t want to play anyone else’s music. I title my piece “Revelations” because it mirrors my self-discovery that’s starting to begin. It’s ambitious, and maybe presumptuous. As I work on my piece, I think that maybe I’ll be ready to talk to Lucas after this without my usual distracted air.

  The morning of the dance, classes are over and I’m packing my few items. The uniforms stay here – apparently, Highbury has a uniform donation program. I’ll only need one for tomorrow’s event. Will I return next year as a student? I don’t know. I haven’t decided, but Edgar Maverick says I have until the end of June to decide. I have mixed emotions, especially when it comes to Lucas, Mason, and Brock. Yes, I’m allowing Brock to be my date, but my reasons are complicated.

  Brock texts me to let me know that he has a meeting with his agent and wonders if I can meet him at the party. When I mention it to Katrina, she tells Bruce and Charles that she’ll meet them at the party – Charles is going dateless – instead of riding with them.

  At noon, I head down to the main office where the school has posted overall grades and rankings. I check my ID and smile inwardly. I’m in first. When Lucas steps beside me to check his grades and ranking – I recognize his ID number, naturally, just as he knows mine – his dark eyes flicker before he faces me expressionlessly. My face is equally bland. “Did well?” he asks.

  I shrug.

  “Getting ready for your date tonight?” There’s a harshness to his question. “Brock hasn’t stopped gloating about your decision. He won’t stop talking about it, though why you picked him is beyond me.”

  “Can we talk later tonight?” I ask without any explanation, and he rocks back on his heels. “It’s important. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  There’s hesitation, indecision, but Brock’s arrival destroys the moment. “Hey, sweetheart, missed me?” he asks, looping his arm around my neck. “You got my text, right?”

  Lucas shuts down, his cold mask back in place. “I’ll see you there, then,” he says, barely acknowledging Brock as he leaves.

  “I did, Brock. It isn’t a problem.” I attempt to disengage him.

  Brock gives me a charming smile. “I promise to give you one hell of a ride after the party.” When he leans in to kiss me, I proffer my cheek. I’m not ready for any other form of intimacy, but I don’t mind his attention.

  There are times when your instinct tells you something bad is going to happen. About half the time, you’re wrong. This is not one of those times. When we arrive at the renovated mansion, I see that Brock’s Mercedes is already here. I recognize the other Elite boys’ cars as well. Katrina and I haven’t arrived early, so the number of cars throws me off.

  “Ah, Charles and Bruce are here,” Katrina says, smiling at me. She links her arm through mine, preventing me from dragging my feet.

  When we enter the main room, Charles tries to intercept us, his lips pulled in a taut line. But it’s too late.

  Brock is seated with one Ashley Witt straddling him. The first thing that comes to mind is that Ashley’s dress is so short that it doesn’t seem possible to straddle someone like that without exposing something. The second thing that comes to mind is that they are kissing so obscenely that they need to get a room. The location of Brock’s hand indicates something far more intimate than kissing. Lucas is in the corner with Vanessa draped on his arm and he sees me first. Our eyes meet – I’m not sure what expression is on my face. Shock. Confusion. Curiosity. Horror.

  Katrina gasps beside me as the twins join us. And that’s when Mason starts to laugh. “Brock, she actually showed up,” he says so loudly that everyone turns around. As he starts to laugh, Vanessa, Kiana, and Astrid join in, while Ashley and Brock part with pleased smiles on their faces. His face is smeared with Ashley’s lipstick.

  Brock’s green eyes scan me from head to toe. “I can’t believe she thought I’d want to come to this with her. She’s so frigid, she couldn’t even kiss me.” And that’s when Ashley hands him a dollar.

  A Dollar Club bet.

  Charles grabs my arm. “Let’s go,” he whispers, but I stand planted.

  I absorb the whole scene: Brock laughing with his hand up Ashley’s skirt, Vanessa cruelly smiling next to Lucas, Mason mocking me, Oliver whispering to the sycophants who are watching. It doesn’t hurt, although my skin heats up as I think that I spent money that didn’t belong to me to dress for this. It isn’t quite shame either. It’s anger. I’m angry with myself for being distracted. I’m angry about wanting to belong rather than carving out a place on my own. In many ways, I did this to myself by betraying my values.

  “Is that dress new?” Vanessa calls out, cementing my anger. It’s a lesson I won’t forget.

  The only Elite not laughing is Lucas, but there is a faint smile on his lips. It’s like he’s memorizing my expression to enjoy later.

  What I do next shocks everyone. I giggle. I’m so stupid. I ignore the puzzled Elite girls as I muffle my laughter with a fist. I close my eyes and the sound falls away. Everyone in the room turns to shadows as I see how well they lined this up to get to me. Perhaps the only ones who weren’t in on it are the three standing closest to me.

  I stare at the Elite girls one last time, no longer laughing. When I look at Brock, he shudders. He must see something he doesn’t like. I take in the Elite boys because I need to remember this moment. Lucas. I save him for last. If he wants tears, he’ll be waiting for a long time. My eyes are clear when I turn to Charles, but he shudders faintly under my hand when I tap his arm gently. I suppose even the bullied can have a nightmarish expression. “Would you take me back to school?” I ask so calmly and without emotion that he flinches.

  It’s Katrina who acts for me as if she has enough of an emotional center to echo my hidden turmoil. She walks up to Mason and slaps him. The sound shocks the Elites and their followers while leaving a mark on Mason’s face. Her brown skin is flush with rage as she glares at every Elite. “I can’t believe you’re my brother. I don’t want to be a part of any of this. You disgust me, Mason!” Katrina practically screams
the last bit while her brother reels back. “I’ve never been so ashamed of being your sister!”

  In her Louboutin red heels, she takes me arm. When I get back to my room, I write and write my music as never before. No, I won’t forget again.

  CHAPTER 14

  I MADE A MISTAKE

  I TRIED TO BELONG

  I TRIED TO FIT IN

  IT WAS A LIE

  THEY ALL LAUGHED

  THEY ALL MOCKED ME

  THEY ALL WANTED TO HURT ME

  I’LL NEVER FORGET

  With my mask on, I play “Invisible” by Hunter Hayes. I play it slow, lingering on the notes as I experience what happened the night before in my mind. I close my eyes when I sing, “But in their narrow minds there's no room for anyone who dares to do something different.”

  I upload the video and turn my phone off.

  I wear my second-year uniform for the last time. Katrina tries to talk to me, but I close myself to the world. It isn’t until I come out and see John with my mother that I shatter just a little.

  “Mom? Pops?” My voice shakes as my mother, her dark eyes aware and soft, walks to me. Feeling her arms around me, I shake. I’m overwhelmed. I’m terrified I’m going to cry. “I-I—”

  “They released her briefly, and I knew we both had to come,” John said, smiling.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Elena,” my mother whispers in my ear. “I’m going to be stronger. I just didn’t know how to protect you.”

  I think I whisper words of encouragement or something. I don’t know.

  I get to introduce them to Katrina, who is gracious and beautiful. Bruce and Charles stare at the way my face is energized. “It was worth it, Katrina,” I say to her, my face open with contentment. Yes, I’m happy. I can finish this year and be free.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, slightly distracted by seeing her parents arrive.

  As I introduce my parents to the Mavericks, I notice a tall boy with ash-blond hair. He stands out because he isn’t wearing a uniform, although he looks like he could be a student with that entitled bearing I’ve come to associate with the Elites. Back ramrod straight, his walk is relaxed but his eyes—cyan eyes—scan the students and parents with purpose. He meets my eyes with a droll smile, but I don’t smile back. We hold each other’s eyes until he walks away.

  Katrina alerts me that performers need to head on back, so I hand my parents over to the Mavericks, a little skip in my steps. It’s so unlike me that I stop and laugh at myself.

  In the auditorium, I have a slight smile on my face as I stretch my fingers. Yesterday fades into insignificance. My pride is injured, but my heart is intact. I will perform Moonlight Sonata flawlessly and dedicate it to my mother. I will play my special piece and then I can go home. I will never come back. When Brock passes by me, I ignore him easily, lost in my thoughts. He is simply part of what I had to overcome for Mom. Brock stops briefly, his eyes flickering in uncertainty when he opens his mouth as if he plans to say something, but I close my eyes, hearing my music in my head swell beyond the noise outside my head.

  Brock performs before me, but I keep my eyes closed until I sense that I’m not alone anymore. When I open my eyes, Vanessa is before me, smiling pleasantly before she backhands me.

  I don’t register the pain right away until she hits me again. Then Ben Summers slams his fist into my stomach. I fall to the ground as each of the Elite girls take turns kicking me in the sides and the stomach. It hurts too much to scream. I’m reacting instinctively, trying to protect my head and hands at the same time. They hit one spot over and over. The girls lift me and throw me by the piano before Vanessa lands an incredibly hard kick to the same spot. I gasp in agony. I’m hidden by the curtain that’s supposed to rise when Brock finishes his song. I’m supposed to be on the seat when that happens. But I can’t stand. Tears of pain stream down my face. And that’s when Lucas, Mason, and Oliver show up. Mason and Oliver are holding a bucket each. I can’t move. Lucas uses a hand to jerk me upright before he lets me go. His gray eyes meet mine and I don’t know if he sees the physical pain I’m in. I make no sound when Mason empties his bucket on me. I feel something cold and sticky coat my hair and body. It smells like glue. Then Oliver dumps feathers – black feathers—all over me. Most of the feathers coat me, but a few float in the air. I find myself mesmerized by the feathers. Just then, Brock is done singing, and I hear him clearly announce, “And now, for our final act. I present to you your Freeloader of the Year.”

  As the curtain rises, I hear a mix of laughter and gasps and a shriek or two. The Elite boys and girls step forward and bow, clearly pleased with how I’m coated with glue and feathers.

  I don’t cry. I won’t cry even though the sharpness increases in my side and the world starts to grow dark. I see my mother’s face. It’s like she doesn’t want to register my humiliation. The rage. God, the rage.

  Lucas leans to whisper in my ear. “You should leave and never come back. People like you don’t belong here. I warned you, Elena.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t. I may be struggling to breathe. I pass out.

  EPILOGUE

  I DARED TO HOPE

  THAT WAS MY MISTAKE

  FOOL ME ONCE

  SHAME ON YOU

  SHAME ON ME

  “You’re Not Innocent” by Codi Kaye

  Started out at school

  Always saying she wasn't good enough

  Rumours spread and stories told

  That she somehow heard of

  Then the social network came

  And it got so much badder

  Telling her to just give up

  So she listened to the chatter

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And her family is torn

  How do you feel now

  She's watching you live on

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And what your words have done

  You can try, you can cry, you can plead

  But you're not innocent

  No

  Started out with the razor

  When she was shaving her legs

  Then it got to a knife when

  She wasn't with her parents

  Always wearing jumpers and bangles

  It got to suicide attempts

  And then they pushed her too far

  And she walked over the edge

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And her family is torn

  How do you feel now

  She's watching you live on

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And what your words have done

  You can try you can cry you can scream

  But you're not innocent

  Maybe next time

  You won't let it get that far

  You'll shut your mouth coz

  You know what the consequences are

  There's blood on your hands

  I hope you realise now

  You killed her yourself

  I hope you've figured that out

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And her family is torn

  How do you feel now

  She's watching you live on

  How do you feel now she's gone

  And what your words have done

  You can try, you can cry, you can scream

  But you're not innocent

  It's too late, it's too late

  It's too late, it's too late

  It's too late, it's too late

  It's too late, it's too late

  Elizabeth Maverick takes me to the hospital. I make her promise not to tell Katrina – or anyone – that I need emergency surgery for internal bleeding. She weeps as I’m wheeled into surgery. When I wake, my stepfather is there with his head in his hands and I’m in physical agony. I’m given more pain medication and told me that I need to stay for at least two more nights.

  The rage inside me is only slightly less than the hate I feel for myself. We
ak. Stupid. Blind. I should’ve seen their actions. I should’ve known. I left myself vulnerable. Never again.

  In the middle of the night, I wake and see a stranger in my room. No, not a stranger. It takes me a minute to recognize him. Blue-green eyes. Cyan eyes. The tall boy who wasn’t wearing a uniform on the last day of school.

  “I’m glad you recognize me. I’m Jasper Bourbon.,” he says to me jovially.

  “Who are you?” I whisper.

  The boy smiles at me, but there’s something dangerous about his smile. “I’m your avenging angel, darling. Are you ready to make them pay?”

  I lick my lips. Something cold and dreadful fills me. I don’t know why, but I trust him. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  BOOK 2 - REDEMPTION

  PROLOGUE

  “BSGirl, the international YouTube phenomenon, continues to break records. BSGirl’s compilation of music covering her years of being bullied went viral. Many of her videos have reached over 15 million views. In July, her first official music video had 32 million views in less than a week. It’s been a busy month for BSGirl. The question on everyone’s minds: who is BSGirl?”

  “Through her agent, BSGirl says she will not profit from her music. All money will go to the Anti-Bullying Foundation and other charities that work with bullied and at-risk teens both in the United States and around the world. Although met with skepticism from the music industry, her fans have embraced her message. Her single “Afraid” has been streamed over 4 billion times in just three months.”

  “The First Lady announced today that, after watching BSGirl’s posts on YouTube, she wants BSGirl to reach out to her to help on the White House’s anti-bullying campaign. Since her debut album, BSGirl has gained international fame faster than anyone in music history. Celebrities have used her message in their campaign against bullying and to highlight the plight of teenage girls struggling to belong.”