“Yeah.” I’m sure my face was bright red. “I’m staying for Justine’s slumber party… Um, how was your game?”
“Pretty good. We won, but not by much. I did hit a home run, though, so that was kind of cool.”
“Wow. I wish I could have been there to see it,” I said.
“You should come to one of my games sometime,” he said. “I can’t guarantee I’ll bat as well as I did tonight, but I’d really like it if you came.”
“I will,” I said. “Definitely.”
He smiled. “Awesome.”
“I, um, I was just coming down here to get something to drink.”
Brody turned around and opened a cabinet behind him. He was tall enough to reach the top shelf with ease. I always had to hop or climb on a chair to do that. But then, I wasn’t even five feet tall. People always thought I was ten or eleven years old, not fourteen.
“What do you want to drink?” Brody asked, taking a glass from the cabinet. “We’ve got milk, juice, soda, water…”
“I was just going to have water. But I can get it—”
He waved me off. “I got it,” he said. He opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of filtered water. “You’re a guest, after all.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
I looked down and silently congratulated myself on picking out cute pajamas—silky blue shorts and a matching tank top. I couldn’t imagine standing in this kitchen, talking to Brody Frasier, in one of the enormous, faded T-shirts I usually slept in.
“Here you go.” He handed me the glass of water and put the pitcher back in the fridge.
“Thanks.”
We stood there for a while, not looking at each other but not ignoring each other, either, really. I was trying to think of something cool and clever to say, but my mind was a complete blank. I decided it was probably better to just keep my mouth shut than to embarrass myself.
“So,” Brody said. “You’re friends with my sister now, huh?”
I took a sip of my water and nodded. “Yeah. Justine’s great. We only started hanging out recently, but we’ve hit it off.”
“Hmm.” He ate the last bite of his brownie and threw away the paper towel he’d been holding it with. “I probably shouldn’t say this because she’s my sister, but just be caref—”
“Bailey.”
I jumped, almost spilling my water, and turned around. Justine was at the top of the stairs, peering over the banister at Brody and me.
“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” she said. A knowing grin spread across her face, and I blushed. “I just wanted to let you know we’re starting a movie, if you want to join us.”
“Yeah. I’m on my way. Just…” I looked back at Brody, wanting him to finish his sentence from before.
But he just shook his head. “Never mind. Have fun.” He turned toward the living room. “Good night, Justine.”
“Night! Come on, Bailey.”
I finished my water and left my glass in the sink before hurrying upstairs. Melanie and Serena were sitting on the floor, munching on potato chips.
“Movie time,” Serena said, picking up a remote and pointing it at the TV in the corner of Justine’s room. “Time to get our rom-com on.”
“Speaking of movies”—Melanie pointed at Justine’s computer—“is it uploaded yet?”
“It will be soon,” Justine said with a sly smile.
“Is what uploaded?” I asked, settling into my spot on the floor.
“Check your school e-mail tomorrow when you get home,” she said. “You’ll see. It’s just a funny video. You’ll get a good laugh out of it.” She stretched out on her bed. “Okay, Serena. Start the movie.”
Chapter Three
I didn’t get a good laugh out of the video Justine sent me. I didn’t think it was funny at all.
She’d sent me a link to a YouTube video, obviously taken on someone’s phone in the girls’ locker room at our school. The camera was at a weird angle, like it was on top of something, looking down, but that didn’t matter. It was in the perfect position to spy on anyone looking in the full-length mirror.
In this case, Elsie James.
At the start of the video, she appeared in nothing but her bra and panties, her hair wet, fresh from a shower. Then she started posing—just like she had the day I walked in on her. These over-the-top, sexy poses. The camera caught them all. And to make it more humiliating, the whole thing had been set to this horrible dirty hip-hop song.
It made Elsie look like an idiot. An almost-naked idiot. And it was on the Internet for anyone to see.
“How could you do that?” I asked Justine on the phone about ten minutes after I watched the video.
“What?” she asked. “It’s funny. It’ll teach her a lesson about being so narcissistic. Thanks for the tip, by the way. You’re the one who gave me the idea to have Wendy hide my phone in the locker room after your practice.”
It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I felt sick.
“You have to take it down,” I told her.
“What?” She was laughing. “Are you kidding?”
“People can see this,” I said. “Anyone can.”
“Yeah, and they already have. I e-mailed it to everyone in my list of contacts, and I’m sure it’s being forwarded all over school as we speak.”
“Justine, this is… This is really mean.”
“I’m just trying to teach her a lesson,” she said.
“Couldn’t you have just talked to her?” I asked. “Told her she was being a snob or something? I really don’t like this, Justine.”
She sighed. “Wow. I thought you were cooler than this, Bailey.”
“W-what?”
“I’ve been hanging out with you this week because you seemed cool,” she said. “But maybe I was wrong.”
“I just—”
“Whatever,” she interrupted. “Look, you can feel sorry for that bitch if you want. But you can’t say anything. No one will want to talk to you, because you’ll be a narc. Not even Elsie James, since you’re the whole reason I knew about her locker room peep show.”
I wanted to cry.
“Besides, no one will ever suspect me.” Her voice was chipper again. “Would you believe I’ve never even had detention? Not once.” She laughed. “Flawless record.”
“Justine…”
“You can’t tell,” she repeated. “Gotta go. My mom’s calling for me. See you at school.”
Click.
***
By Monday morning, everyone had watched the video. And Elsie was nowhere to be found.
“She’s probably too embarrassed to show her face,” I heard one girl saying in the hallway before geometry.
“I bet she moves,” her friend said. “I would die. Seriously. I’d die.”
“Hey.”
I turned and saw Brody walking up behind me. I felt myself blushing as I pushed my hair behind my ears. “Hi, Brody.”
“Heading to geometry?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“Of course—I mean, if you want to.”
He smiled and fell into place beside me as we headed down the hallway.
“So,” he said. “Elsie James, huh?”
“Yeah it’s… It’s crazy. That video.”
“It’s horrible,” he said. “It takes a sick person to do something like that.”
I glanced at him, sort of turned off that he’d be so harsh toward Elsie. “Really? I mean, sure, it’s weird, but people do weird things when they think they’re alone—”
“No, not Elsie.” We turned the corner into the classroom, and he followed me to my desk. “The person who posted the video. It’s just cruel. Who would do something like that?”
“I-I don’t know,” I stammered.
“You don’t?”
“No. Of course not. Why would I?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. My sister seemed to know who did it and since—ne
ver mind. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He sighed. “I just feel bad for Elsie. I don’t know her very well or anything, but she must be really humiliated.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m sure she is.”
“Take your seats. Take your seats,” Mr. Daud said. “We’ve got a lot of work to get done this week before your test on Wednesday, so let’s get started. Please.”
“See you later, Bailey,” Brody said.
“’Bye,” I murmured.
I watched him walk across the room and settle into his desk. And I sort of kept watching after that. Brody was the first person I’d heard condemn whoever posted the video—and that made me like him even more. What would happen if he found out it was his sister? If he found out I’d been part of it? Because I had, whether I meant to or not.
My heart sank even deeper into my stomach.
“Psst.”
I turned around, and the girl behind me handed me a folded piece of paper. I took it quickly and tried to be discreet about unfolding and reading it so that Mr. Daud wouldn’t confiscate it.
I already knew it was from Justine. DON’T TELL. YOU’LL GET THE SAME AS ELSIE. SEE YOU AT LUNCH! YOUR JEANS ARE SUPER CUTE, BY THE WAY. XOXO, JUSTINE.
I folded the note back up and slipped it into my purse. I tried to stay focused on what Mr. Daud was saying about obtuse triangles. I was worried that if I didn’t, if I let myself think about everything else, I’d end up throwing up. Or crying. They would be equally embarrassing.
I hated what Justine had done. I hated what was happening to Elsie. But in the few days I’d been friends with Justine, I’d gotten everything I wanted. Brody Frasier was talking to me. Some of the most popular people in the school knew my name. I ate at the best table in the cafeteria. I was finally making close friends. I didn’t want to give that up for Elsie—someone I barely knew.
And Justine was right. No one would believe me if I told on her. They’d think I was lying, and I’d lose everything for nothing. So it was better to just keep my mouth shut.
But I couldn’t help feeling guilty. Really guilty.
And I only felt worse when I saw Elsie and her parents walking into the school just before art class, last period. I was drinking from the water fountain near the front entrance when they passed me. Elsie had her head down, but I could tell her eyes were red. Like she’d been crying. A lot.
“Rumor has it her parents want to press charges,” Wendy whispered once they were out of earshot. We were in the same class and had decided to walk there together.
“What kind of charges?” I asked.
Wendy took a sip from the fountain and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Child pornography, maybe. That’s what Ryan heard.”
“Really? But she wasn’t naked.”
Wendy shrugged. “I don’t know what the rules on that stuff are. But her parents are pissed. If anyone ever found out it was Justine, she’d be in serious trouble. And me, too, since I’m the one who set her phone to record. But it was her phone and she uploaded it… There’s a chance she’d be expelled.”
“W-what do you think the chances are of her getting caught?”
“Not likely.” We started walking toward our class. “She set up a fake e-mail for the YouTube account and sent the links through it before shutting down the e-mail—she’s really freaking smart. That’s why no one ever found out what she did to Gretchen.”
“Who’s Gretchen?” I asked.
“Oh, right. You didn’t go to middle school with us.” She lowered her voice. “She was this girl in Justine’s class two years ago. This girl was obsessed with Justine and her friends. Total stalker. Justine got sick of it, so she pretended to be friends with the girl and managed to get hold of her diary. Then she totally started a blog—posting all the embarrassing entries. I read the blog. It was awful. So hilarious. The girl totally moved away after that.”
“Wow,” I murmured.
“Yeah, but, like, good riddance. She was a creepy stalker. Anyway, I’m just hoping this gets Elsie to quit the cheerleading squad. I figure moving away is a little too much to hope for,” Wendy said. “I’m sick of her bossing us around and acting like she’s so great. Maybe this will teach her to get over herself.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled.
But on my way out to the bus that afternoon, I saw Principal Roth walking Elsie and her parents out of the building. And Elsie didn’t look like a girl who needed to get over herself. She looked like a girl who needed to be put back together.
Chapter Four
Principal Roth made an announcement the next day, asking for anyone with information to come forward.
“Our school has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to bullying,” he said over the intercom. It was first period, and I could feel Justine looking at me from across the room in geometry class. “This is bullying of the worst kind. The persons who filmed and posted this video will face serious consequences.”
But I kept my mouth shut all week.
I was glad when the weekend came. Because it meant I had a couple days away from all of it. But also because on Saturday, my brother and stepsister started their spring breaks and got to come home from college for a week. The only problem was that if anyone could tell I was keeping a secret, it was my brother.
“What’s up with you?” Nathan asked while we were hanging out in his room, watching The Dark Knight on his laptop.
“Nothing. What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I can tell something’s bothering you. You didn’t even try to make Whitley or me watch Bring It On with you again. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I don’t always want to watch Bring It On.”
“Since when?”
“Since… can we just watch The Dark Knight, please? I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So something is bothering you.”
“No.”
“Well, you’re definitely hiding something,” he said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Is it a boyfriend?” he asked. “Is that what you don’t want to tell me?”
“Nathan,” I groaned.
“Jesus, leave her alone.” Whitley, my stepsister, passed the open bedroom door, carrying a basket of clean laundry. “I know you’re her older brother, but you’re being even more annoying than usual.”
“I haven’t seen her since Christmas,” he said. “I’ve got three months’ worth of annoying saved up just for her.”
“Whatever,” she said, dropping the basket in her room, just across the hall.
“How are you already doing laundry?” I asked her. “You just got here.”
“She’s been putting it off for weeks,” Nathan said. “She’s had this massive pile of dirty clothes in her room. They barely fit in her suitcase.”
“Ew,” I said.
“What? It costs money to do laundry at school,” she argued. “Screw that.” She walked into Nathan’s room and sat on his bed next to me. Nathan swiveled his desk chair around to face us. “And it’s not like I wore the dirty clothes. I’m not a freak.”
“That’s debatable,” Nathan said.
Whitley stuck her tongue out at him.
He laughed. “I love you. And your maturity.”
“Among other things,” she said.
They smiled at each other.
Their flirting was gross, I guess, if you didn’t know the story. Last summer, just before my mom married my stepdad, Whitley and Nathan had started dating. It had been a little dramatic at first—Whitley’s dad, Greg, was so not cool with it—but eventually things had calmed down. Sometimes it was kind of weird, but they were happy with each other. And I guess that’s what mattered.
“Man, I wish I were on spring break, too,” I said. “I hate that I’ll be at school all week while you’re here.”
“We’ll see each other in the afternoons,” Nathan said.
“Yeah, but… I don’t know. That’s not enough. And what about you guys? Mom’s at work
all day. I’m at school. Greg is at the station. You guys are here alone. What do you even do?” I paused, then squeaked. “Ew! Don’t answer that. Ew, ew.”
“Oh my God, shut up, you little perv!” Whitley said, laughing as she shoved me off the bed. Nathan, on the other hand, just looked mildly horrified.
“Nate!” Greg called from downstairs. “Can you come down here a second?”
“Sure!” Nathan yelled. He stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told us. “And when I get here, we are watching this movie. I’m getting tired of waiting.”
“Okay, Nerdthan,” Whitley said.
“You’re so clever.” He rolled his eyes.
Once he was out the door and we could hear his footsteps on the stairs, Whitley turned to face me. “Okay. So now that he’s gone, tell me what’s up.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Enough with the bullshit. We both know that he’s right and you’re acting weird. So what’s the deal? Secret boyfriend? Secret girlfriend? Come on. Spill it.”
“It’s nothing like that,” I said, looking down at my lap. “It’s… it’s worse.”
“Oh… Oh, Christ, are you—you’re not pregnant, right?”
“What?” I almost screamed. “No! Oh my God.”
“Thank God,” Whitley said. “I almost had a heart attack.”
“I don’t—I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I stammered. “I’ve never… I haven’t had… you know.”
“Yes, I know. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, well, if it’s not that, then what is it? Stop beating around the bush here. I don’t have the patience for it.”
I sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. I stood up and walked over to Nathan’s computer, clicking away from The Dark Night’s main menu and logging onto the Internet. “Come here,” I told Whitley.
She stood up and came over behind me. She didn’t say anything, though. She waited while I loaded YouTube and found the channel Justine had set up. There were more than five thousand views, which meant people outside of our school—which only had four hundred students—had seen it, too. I clicked play, but I closed my eyes while she watched. I didn’t want to see it again. Not after seeing Elsie’s face on Monday.
Secrets and Lies Page 7