by J C Wing
“Has there been any weakening of the enemy’s defenses?”
Willow moved toward the stacked pizzas and took a slice of pepperoni and black olive. “Hardly. Mrs. Larsen does not give in easily.”
“You’re almost sixteen. She’s gotta give in eventually.”
Willow shrugged and Edie reached out with both hands and flipped the top of two different boxes. She looked at both, trying to decide which one she wanted. Her contemplation was interrupted when two of her cheer mates tumbled out of the sliding glass door calling her name.
“Edie, Dane has a bunch of new games, but all the guys are hogging the TV,” Diana stated.
“He’s got Zelda in here.”
“Ding, ding, ding,” Willow said. “That was the magic word right there.”
Diana continued to push. “We need numbers, girl. Get your butt in here. Maybe if there’s more of us we can win some time at the controls. We know you’ll have some sway with Jake.”
Edie caught Willow’s gaze. “Ocarina of Time.”
Willow chewed on her pizza. “If you say so.” She shooed her friend off with the can of soda she held in her hand. “What are you waiting for? Your boyfriend is in there, and he’s standing between you and Zelda! Fight! Conquer! Win!” She gave her friend a cheesy grin.
“You’re a real smartass, you know that?”
“It’s a service I’m happy to provide,” Willow replied, popping a piece of crust into her mouth.
She heard a squeal from behind her and turned to see several kids chasing each other on the other side of the pool. The cover was wet in spots and littered with leaves the color of candied cherries. Four or five large maple trees towered above the back yard, their limbs nearly coming together in the center.
Willow was distracted by a nudge from the right. She turned to see Zac standing next to her and she gave him a smile. “You’re not interested in Nintendo?”
“Eh, I’ve got some of the new games myself. It’s an anthill in there. I’d rather not deal.”
“Besides,” Willow rummaged around in the ice for another soda, “the food’s out here.” She found what she was after, but her fingers were cold. She put the drink down, then pulled her jacket over hand.
Zac gave her a grin. The two of them had been classmates for as long as Willow could remember. He was a part of the group she played baseball with, and one of the boys she’d done more than play baseball with.
“There’s some stuff goin’ on in the pool house, too.” He grabbed her soda with one hand and her coat sleeve in the other. “And it’s warm in there. Come on.”
Willow let him lead her into the yard. There weren’t many lights on in the pool house, but there were kids milling about. She hadn’t realized how chilled she’d gotten until Zac opened the door and she stepped inside.
The term “pool house” was a misnomer in Willow’s opinion. At first glance, the place looked almost like a guest house complete with couches, a TV, a small kitchen and a big pool table. She assumed that there was a bedroom, or a dressing room where towels and other swimming type things could be found, but she couldn’t see any of those things from where she was standing.
Willow narrowed her eyes at the movie playing on the TV. Speaking of the pool, she thought, as a scene played out with Matt Dillon, Neve Campbell and Denise Richards. Okay, more so just the women, and they weren’t doing a whole lot of swimming. So much for a parent chaperoned party, she thought with a smile.
Zac helped her off with her coat, hanging it over the back of one of the barstools in the kitchen area. “Do I want to know why this is wet? It hasn’t rained lately. You go through a carwash or something?”
“Yeah. Swung by the one on Ridgeway. Didn’t get a shower this morning so I thought that would take care of it.”
Zac’s smile returned. “You’re taking personal hygiene to a whole other level, Larsen.” He took her soda over to the couch and set it on the coffee table. “There’s a blanket there if you want to warm up. Dane’s got a bunch of movies if you don’t want to watch this one.” He rummaged around until he found something that suited him.
“Just for a while, though,” Willow said, checking the time on her phone. “E is taking me home, and I don’t want to be late.” She felt colder now that she wasn’t wearing her jacket and decided the blanket wasn’t the worst idea in the world.
She watched Zac as he set up the movie. He was tall and long limbed. Definitely good looking with his blond hair and brown eyes. She liked the cologne he wore, and he was a great kisser. He asked her to the Homecoming dance more than a month ago, but Willow had turned him down. She was taken, unavailable, although she couldn’t tell anyone that. Truth was, had she not been dating Jason, she probably would have said yes.
Zac hadn’t taken rejection well. He’d kicked the open door to her locker, the sound of metal on metal resounding through the school hallway and denting it so badly she couldn’t use it for three days until it was repaired. The outburst had surprised her, and everyone else in the hall, but Zac had a temper. Everyone knew that. When he apologized the next day, she’d accepted, hugged him back when he wrapped his arms around her, and things between them went back to normal. Or as normal as they had been since Willow met Jason at Christina’s party.
“Hormones probably,” Edie had said later that day at lunch. “It’s like being with a bunch of Hulks. One second they’re cool like Bruce Banner, the next, they’re stomping around yelling, ‘Hulk smash!’ and being all loud and temperamental.” She’d rolled her eyes.
“Here we go,” Zac said, plopping down next to Willow on the couch and bringing her back to the present. “You still like horror films?”
“Sure,” Willow nodded, watching the screen. She laughed when she realized what he’d picked. “Scream 2,” she said. “The sarcastic slasher movie.”
“It’s awesome.”
“You have a thing for Neve Campbell.”
“Whatever. Quit hogging the blanket.”
She heard noises from outside. It sounded like they’d started up a game of some kind. Willow decided it was probably basketball, or maybe someone had decided to use the volleyball net the Cooper’s had set up.
She sat beneath the blanket with her arms wrapped around herself. Zac sat next to her and the two of them watched as Ghostface terrorized a group of moviegoers in a suspenseful display of hysteria and gore.
Zac shifted on the couch. He moved his face close to Willow’s, and she felt the palm of his hand on her thigh. She pulled away from him, trying to free herself from the blanket.
“I need to go, Zac,” she said, feeling his hand move further up. Zac’s mouth was on her neck now, and Willow screwed her eyes shut tight. She finally managed to get her arms out of the blanket and scrambled to get off the couch, but Zac was too strong. He held her there.
“The movie’s not over with yet,” he told her, his mouth close to her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, and a finger of fear began to tickle the inside of her stomach.
“I can’t be late,” Willow said, struggling against him. “I said just for a while. Stop,” she protested. “Stop!” she said louder.
Zac grabbed her upper arms, his fingers digging hard into her skin. He jerked her body so she was facing him and covered his mouth with hers. His tongue was hot and wet, and Willow gagged. Her protests turned into plaintive wails, and she thought she was going to be sick.
Willow fought against him, grabbed at his shirt, tried to separate herself from him. When that didn’t work, she started flailing her feet, the soles of her well-used Nike’s finding the edge of the coffee table and kicking it over with a loud bang.
“You’re nothing but a tease,” Zac said, his voice low and angry. “A stupid little bitch.”
Willow filled her lungs with air and fought hard against him. He had handfuls of her sweater in his fists and she pulled hard, trying to get away. “Help!” she yelled. The neck of her sweater was tight against her throat as he pulled on the fabric
and Willow resisted. “Help me!” Willow could barely hear her own voice over the screaming coming from the TV.
She pulled harder, her arms outstretched and her body hanging at a slant. Her sweater had stretched as far as it could, and the neckline was drawn taught against her throat. She saw movement outside, a brief flutter of white out of the corner of her eye. “Help!” she yelled again, but it got lost … a sorority house, Ghostface, screaming and blood.
“Zac, stop …” She was leaning even further. “Let me go …”
The white was moving closer, and then it was at the door.
“Fine!” Zac yelled, furious. “You wanna go, then go.” He let go of Willow’s sweater and she stumbled, her arms wind milling in the air as she plunged forward. The pain was sharp when her chin hit the corner of the upturned coffee table, the skin splitting and blood trickling down the front of her neck.
She cried out, and the white she’d seen burst through the pool house door. Edie in her Hawks sweatshirt.
“I never wanted to go to that stupid dance with you anyway,” Zac said from behind her.
Edie dropped to her knees, air crawling into the room through the open door like a clowder of cats. “What in the hell is going on? Willow. Oh, Jesus, you’re bleeding all over the place.” Her fingers were covered in it. “Oh my god, you’re hurt!” She looked up and caught Zac’s eyes. “You did this because she wouldn’t go to Homecoming with you? Because she embarrassed you?” The accusation in her voice was thick. “You’re like a third grader, you know that? A spoiled little brat pissed off because he didn’t get what he wanted.”
“Fuck off.”
Zac ran his fingers through his hair and turned around. He’d let things get out of control. Edie wasn’t sure if he’d meant to go as far as he did.
She helped pull Willow to her feet. “Are you good?” she asked. “I’m gonna go get some paper towel.”
“Yeah,” Willow told her. “Go. I’m okay.”
Edie stomped across the room into the eating area, grabbed the end of one towel and yanked. A ribbon of paper flew off the roll and she gathered it all, tearing it as she moved back to Willow. She went to press the wad to her friend’s chin, but Willow grabbed it from her and began walking toward the door. Edie threw another scathing look in Zac’s direction.
“This isn’t over, Zac Roth. You’re an asshole, and this isn’t nearly over.”
IN STITCHES
Heat streamed from the vents in Edie’s Blazer. Willow held the paper towels to her face and watched the headlights from the oncoming cars.
“I made you late for curfew.”
“Seriously?” Edie asked. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“That and bleeding all over your Blazer.”
Edie wasn’t listening. “What the hell happened back there?”
Willow kept her eyes forward. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be pulling into her driveway. She hoped her mom wasn’t waiting up for her.
“I didn’t think he was still mad,” she began. “I thought all that Homecoming crap had been figured out and forgotten. When he invited me to the pool house, it sounded like part of the party had moved over there. Then he asked if I wanted to watch a movie, and I thought that sounded better than fighting over the controls to a stupid game I didn’t even want to play …” Her voice trailed off and she flicked her eyes toward Edie. “Sorry,” she said on a sigh. “It’s not stupid … I’m just mad.”
“It’s fine,” Edie told her, turning onto Willow’s street. “I won’t tell Zelda you said that. And damn right you should be mad. Who does Zac Roth think he is, anyway? I saw it, Will, I saw you trying to get away. I didn’t know exactly what was going on,” she paused, “still don’t, but you looked terrified. Did he try something? What did he do?”
“Uhhhhhh,” Willow groaned. “I’m mad at Zac, but I’m madder at myself. I should never have stayed in the pool house alone with him, but we’ve been friends since forever. I never thought he’d push like that. He’s never been that way before. I told him no. I told him to stop, but he kept pushing …” It wasn’t until then that Willow realized how scared she’d been, and her voice trembled.
“Damn it!” Edie smacked the steering wheel hard with her palm. “I have half a mind to turn around, go back to that party and hunt that low-life down. I have a bat in the back, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“I think I’m gonna puke …”
Edie pulled her eighteen-year-old red and white Blazer into the Larsens’ driveway and killed the engine. “Open the door, Will. Get some air. We gotta figure out what you want to tell your parents.”
Willow groaned again and kicked the door open with her foot. The two of them listened to the pinging of the Blazer’s cooling engine for several long seconds. “I tripped,” Willow finally said. “I don’t have to lie. I was in the pool house. I tripped. I fell. I cut my chin on the coffee table. No one needs to know the details.”
Edie was seething in the driver’s seat. “You’re protecting him.”
“He’s obviously got anger issues,” Willow answered quickly. “Everyone knows that, but I’m not going to accuse him of something that could ruin his life. God, I’ve known him since grade school. Besides,” she said, still holding the towels to her face. “Nothing happened.”
Edie stared at her. “Not nothing.” Willow couldn’t meet Edie’s eyes. “This is your decision, Will, but we need to be clear. This was not nothing.” Willow sniffed and Edie knew she was about to cry. “I get what you’re doing. I do. And I’ll support you, but you stay away from him, you hear me? As far as I’m concerned, Zac Roth is a piece of shit, and he so much as looks at you funny, I’m taking him down.”
Willow didn’t doubt Edie for a second. She wasn’t sure she’d actually go after Zac with a baseball bat, but then again …
“I’m going in with you.” Edie didn’t give Willow a chance to answer before she slid out of her seat and slammed the door. Willow sighed again. There was nothing else to do but head inside.
Her keys seemed unusually loud as she unlocked the front door. The foyer was lit, and Willow walked into the living room expecting to see Corinne on the couch waiting for her. She was surprised to see her dad instead.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Alex Larsen sat in his recliner with a book. Willow had always favored him, sharing her blonde hair and blue eyes with her paternal side of the family. Age had painted silver in the strands at Alex’s temples, and his profession had given his face a subtle weariness, but at fifty-eight, he still hung on to his boyish good looks. He looked up from the book he was reading and peered at her from over his glasses. One of his eyebrows rose as he studied his daughter’s face.
“Hi, Doctor Larsen,” Edie piped up. “Sorry we’re a little late. Will got hurt.”
Alex tucked his book against the arm of the chair and stood up. “Let me see.”
Willow carefully pulled the paper towels from her chin, but they stuck, pulling the wound open again and making it bleed. Alex nudged her head up with his thumb and took a good look.
“What happened?”
“We were watching a movie in the pool house. I got up to leave and tripped and fell, got my chin on the coffee table.”
“Were you drinking?”
“No, sir,” Willow said, catching her dad’s gaze and holding it. “Just soda.”
Alex watched her for a moment, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That needs stitching,” he told her. “Edie, get one of your parents on the phone, please.” He stepped to the hall closet and pulled out his overcoat. “I’ll need to let them know why you’ve missed your curfew.” He looked over at Edie. “I assume you’ll be coming with us.”
Edie gave him a smile and nodded as she dialed her home number from her cell. “Can I sleep over?”
Alex chuckled and motioned for her to hand over the phone. “I don’t see why not,” he said. “Since Willow isn’t going to the luncheon tomorrow, she�
�ll need someone to keep her company.” He aimed a wink in his daughter’s direction. “Hello, Mrs. Heath,” he said into the phone he took from Edie’s outstretched hand. “I’m sorry to be calling so late …”
Edie shook her head and smiled at Willow. “Kind of a rough way to get out of dressing up, don’t you think?”
Willow shrugged and pressed the towels against her chin again. “I really hate those hospital things,” she said. “I’ll take whatever out I can get.”
Willow was still in bed, but Edie had already showered and was pulling her wet red hair into a ponytail when a knock sounded on the bedroom door the next morning.
“You dressed?” Willow hollered at her friend.
“Yep. I’m good.”
“Come in,” Willow said without moving. She hadn’t cleaned up from the night before, although they’d done some of that at the hospital after closing her chin with four neatly placed stitches.
“You’re still in bed?” Corinne asked as she walked in the room, her arms full of clean laundry.
“I have a headache,” Willow told her. “And it’s Saturday.”
“Good morning, Edith.” Corinne began putting Willow’s socks and underwear away. “Edith’s up and at ‘em. And on a Saturday.”
“Hey, Mrs. Larsen,” Edie greeted as she slipped her jacket on. “I’d be sleeping in, too, if I wasn’t meeting Jake for coffee before cheer practice.” She slipped past Corinne and grinned at Willow as she headed for the door, her keys dangling from her fingers. “Be careful today. Call me later.”
Willow listened to Edie trot down the stairs, and then she heard an exchange of voices before the front door opened and closed.
“Let me take a look at that chin.” Willow barely had time to scoot over before Corinne sat down on the bed. “Now how did this happen?”