by Carla Thorne
Up ahead in the hall, Scout waved a plastic bag of portable cheese wheels to get my attention—wait. A plastic bag of portable cheese wheels?
I rushed toward him and snatched the bag out of the air. “What are you doing?”
“They’re for you. Mrs. Silva was going to throw them away because she didn’t realize they expired over the holiday. She also said she couldn’t let me have them—school rules and all—but then she turned her back so I could take them.” He thumped his own head. “She’s a smart one.” His backpack crunched and crumpled as he slipped it on his shoulder.
“What’s that?”
“Granola bars and chips. Also, out of date. Need something? I’m a human vending machine today.”
“No…” I dropped my gaze to the floor and absently pushed cheese into the side pocket of my bag.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Scout thumped his head again. “I’m the one who’s not thinking. Who gives a girl outdated cheese?”
“No, it’s not that. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten a pudding cup or a protein bar at home that hasn’t passed its use by date. My mom shops at that no-frills store out by the freeway and visits the quick sale aisle first.” I managed an appreciative smile. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Then what’s the matter?” He guided us through the crowd toward class.
“Still haven’t seen Corey, have you?”
“No. But like you said, she’s probably sick.”
“That would be bad too, but I’m more concerned about what Paige did to her over the long weekend. And why doesn’t she text me back and tell me?”
Scout stopped and turned on me. “Ivy, we talked about this. You can’t control Corey’s choices.”
“I know but—”
“But nothing. You had a horrible Thanksgiving because you couldn’t stop worrying about something you can’t do anything about.”
“No, I had a horrible Thanksgiving because my mom had to work, and my self-absorbed Aunt Connie used me as a pack mule to follow her around the mall and carry packages.”
“And?”
I sighed. “And I worried about a situation I can do nothing about.”
“Exactly.”
“But Corey is my assignment, remember? We also talked about that to the point of a stomach ache. If any of the weird stuff we’ve been saying is real, I’m supposed to be looking out for Corey.”
“True, but you don’t rule the universe, you’ve done all you can, and if a higher power is pulling the strings here, it will surely give you the means to help if and when the time is right.”
“I guess… Oh!” Mr. Parrington stepped into view amidst the blare of the bell. “Mr. Parrington! I need to ask you something.”
“What’s up?”
“Corey’s not here. Do you know why?”
He touched his forehead and looked around. “Do I have Attendance Clerk tattooed up here?”
“No.”
“And am I allowed to discuss another student’s issues with you?”
“No, but…” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “I’m worried about Corey and she’s not here today. Something might have happened over the break and…”
“I understand your concern, but I assure you, her parents are taking care of her.”
“You said that last time.”
“And it’s still true.”
“Can you at least tell me if she was reported out sick? We’re supposed to sing this weekend at the holiday show.”
“I’m well aware, and no, I cannot.” He pointed at the door. “Go to class.”
I did, but dread sat heavy on my chest the rest of the day.
By eleven that night, I’d all but given up. I told myself Corey was just sick. She was resting, she was medicated… She’d be back in time to practice, and Saturday would be fine…
And then the teary phone call.
A faint whimper carried across the line.
“Cory? Thank the stars! Are you all right?”
“No.”
“Is it strep throat? I knew it!”
“Yeah, my throat hurts, but…”
“Have you been drinking your tea and honey? And it sounds like you’ve been crying. It’ll be all right… Remember, the director said crying is one of the worst things you can do to your voice—”
“This is not about my voice or the holiday show. None of that matters.”
The dread that had subsided came back with exponential force.
Corey was in trouble.
“Corey, where are you?”
“I’m at home.”
“Are your parents there?”
“No. They had some committee meeting and it always runs long and they’re probably cleaning up.”
“What’s going on right now? Why do you think nothing matters?”
Her long pause stopped my heart. I forgot to breathe and came back gasping when I finally heard something on the other end of the line. “Let’s start video.” My fingers trembled as I searched for the button on my ancient phone.
“No video. No one can see me like this.”
“OK, OK, no video.” I begged and screamed in my head for help. What do I do? She’s not well! Help me!
You are part of the calm…
If I wasn’t so scared for Corey, I’d have thrown the phone against the wall. How does that help me help Corey?
You are part of the calm. You are not part of the chaos.
I tried to kick my own panic to the side, and let go of my growing anger toward Paige.
“All right, Corey, tell me what happened this past weekend.”
“You were right about everything. Paige doesn’t care about me. My hair is gone and it was a mistake.”
“But like you said, it will grow back, right? And Claudia is very good. I know it’s hard to get used to, but I bet it’s super cute.”
She sniffed. “I didn’t see Claudia.”
“What do you mean you didn’t see Claudia? I thought the whole point was that Paige was taking you to Claudia and then you’d be good with the Arrows.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then what happened?”
“It was a trick to humiliate me. I ended up at Paige’s house with some of the others. It was all a joke.”
“I’m so sorry, Corey, I know how bad you want—”
“Paige cut my hair. They put me in a chair like we were kids playing beauty salon.”
Rage heated my blood to the boiling point and seared my insides. “Was Trinity there?”
“No. She was out of town for Thanksgiving.” More sobs and slobbery-sounding words hit my ears and then trailed away.
“Corey! Keep the phone to your ear!”
“I tried to get up,” she wailed into the phone. “But Paige pushed me back in the chair. She put on gardening gloves and used a pair of those outdoor clipper tools to lop off big chunks of hair.”
“Corey, stay with me. Do your parents know about this? ‘Cause that’s not a prank or even bullying. That’s assault and it’s against the law.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter. You matter, Corey, and we’ll get through this.”
“I always wanted to donate my hair to one of those places that makes wigs for children. I looked it up and I was going to ask Claudia about it, but Paige took the hair…”
“For what?”
“I don’t know… It was all crooked and hacked up. I ran out of there and called my brother. He was home from college. He came to get me and we went to one of those walk-in places to straighten it out, but it’s still not good.”
“Is your brother there now?”
“No, he went back to school. He was mad at me because I was so stupid, but he said he wouldn’t tell my parents.”
“Did he know what really happened?”
“I didn’t tell him everything.”
The sound of something tumbling to the floor echoed across the line. There was more movement… Maybe
a door opened and closed, or maybe it was something being pulled across the floor. “Corey, what’s going on?”
“I won’t be back at school, Ivy. It’s over.”
The floor dropped out from under me. “Wh… What do you mean?” I put her on speaker and switched screens to send out frantic texts to the only three people I knew would understand.
Corey’s in trouble.
I can’t remember her house number.
Can anyone get there?
Muffled sounds continued before she spoke again. “It’s OK, Ivy. You’ve been a great friend to me, but I can’t do this anymore.”
“Corey? Nothing is over. And we had a deal, remember? You said you’d call me if you felt this bad and you did! I’ll get there as soon as I can. Don’t do anything to hurt yourself. We had a deal.”
Silence.
“Corey! Can you tell me where your parents are?”
I raced down the hall. My mother was home, but if she’d taken a sleeping pill to settle her mind, she couldn’t drive. Her gentle purr in the black room shut down that idea.
“Corey? Don’t move. I’m sending help, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I texted Mary, Deacon and Scout again. Calling 911. Did anyone find a ride? My mom can’t drive.
Scout texted back. Grandma can. We’ll swing by and get you. Deacon’s brother can bring him and Mary.
“Did you hear me, Corey? Help is on the way.”
The call ended.
I hit 911 and stumbled into my flip-flops and pajama bottoms as I grabbed a hoodie to cover my threadbare nightshirt.
Move child…
Chapter 33
Ivy
I screamed.
I screamed and then I ran.
I didn’t mean to make a scene, but those red and blue flashing lights in Corey’s driveway set off an explosion of panic and fear in my heart that could not be contained.
Scout grabbed me from behind as I thundered toward the open garage door.
Deacon quickly stood in my path and helped slow me down. “Over here,” he said.
Mary took my hand. “If we stand in the yard and be quiet, maybe that cop won’t chase us away.”
Scout’s grandma put her arms around us and pushed us toward the group of tall pines in the yard. “She’s right. Stay put and I’ll see what I can find out.”
I collapsed against Scout. “You don’t understand.” Tears started to drop and there was no stopping them. “I knew about this. I saw it. I tried to help. I failed.”
“No, listen,” Deacon said. “She’s alive. They put her in the ambulance. Her parents are right there.” He grabbed me by my upper arms and turned me so I could see the edge of the open back ambulance doors. “That’s her mom… Her dad’s on the other side. It looks like everyone got here at once.”
“Did you see Corey?”
“I did,” Mary said. “I saw a glimpse of her on the stretcher and she moved.”
But I could not be consoled. The scene in the garage told a different story. A bright workbench light illuminated a wooden chair on the center of the concrete floor. Two clumps of long rope lay in twisted and ugly disarray nearby. An old, paint-covered step-ladder stood not far from that. “She was going to kill herself,” I cried.
“But she didn’t,” Scout said. “Everyone got here in time—because of you.”
I thrashed out of their grasp like busting through glass. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I glared at the gathering neighbors who’d spilled onto the residential street from their quiet sleep. Some were genuinely concerned for the family and wanted to help, some were being nosy. “Go home,” I yelled.
Mary yanked me back into the safety of our circle. “Calm. Down. Her parents will hear you and they’re upset enough.”
I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“I knew this might happen. That’s why I tried so hard to intervene. I saw…”
“What did you see?”
Exhausted, I dropped to the cool, damp grass and the others followed. “I looked at Corey one day in the choir room. My vision changed and I saw her, but she wasn’t Corey. She was a flower on a long stem. The blossom was dangling like it was broken…” I pointed at the scene in the garage. “Now I see it so clearly. If she’d gotten that rope around her neck that’s exactly what she would have looked like, her head all—”
“Stop.” Deacon covered his eyes. “Stop. Please. We get it.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked.
“No,” Mary said. “We’re sorry. We knew your abilities were stronger than any of us could imagine, but we had no idea the burden of a vision like that was weighing on you. You should have told us…”
“How was I supposed to tell you that? I don’t understand it.”
Scout held my hand and rubbed his thumb across my skin. “Ivy, don’t ever be afraid to tell us anything. We’ll figure it out. That’s why we all showed up here.”
“Then explain something to me… What about all the other kids who are so bullied they don’t want to live through the night? Who’s helping them? Are there others like us? People will die this same way tonight because nobody came. How are we supposed to save them all?”
“I don’t think we are supposed to save them all. We can’t do it alone.”
“Why not? Why have an ability if you can’t save them all? What’s the point?”
Scout’s grandma made her way toward us. “Corey is physically fine. It appears she made some plans, but didn’t carry them out.”
I scrambled to my feet. “Do you think I can see her?”
“No, honey. She needs to be with her parents at this time. Some other family got here, and they’re about to take her to the hospital. Her mom will ride with her.”
“If she’s physically fine, why are they taking her away in an ambulance?”
Scout’s grandma glanced at the horrid scene in the garage. “Because they can’t be sure what else happened. After she’s been checked out at the hospital, she’ll likely be taken by her parents to a facility where she can get the help she needs.”
We stood in silence as the ambulance rolled into the street and disappeared down the block.
Another car came to a stop farther from the house as the neighbors dispersed. Mr. Parrington got out and made his way straight to where Corey’s dad sagged against his truck as he waited for the garage door to slide closed.
I clenched my teeth until my head hurt. “What’s he doing here?”
“Well, we live near the big city, but dwell in a little suburb,” Scout’s grandma said. “He probably already heard and is here to represent the school, show support, and get the facts. Don’t worry,” she said directly to me. “He’s here to protect Corey.”
Fat chance. Where was everyone a couple of hours ago? Or over the weekend when Corey was being assaulted? Or in the halls of the school where Paige and her Purple Arrows destroyed reputations and crushed the weakest of innocents who had low self-esteem?
I took a step.
Scout’s grandma touched my arm and sent me a knowing glance. “Wait till her father leaves.”
Chapter 34
Ivy
I wanted to punch Mr. Parrington.
I knew it wasn’t really his fault, but everything was broken at that moment and he seemed the logical one to take it out on.
But as he approached us in the yard, my anger faded along with cell phone and car lights as the scene became nothing.
Nothing but sadness.
His leather sandals creaked on the concrete as he came toward us in gym shorts and a mismatched tee. He’d come straight from his bed like everyone else.
I met his gaze. “I thought you said you were going to keep her safe.”
I’d wanted my words to come out like the fiery roar of a jet engine. Instead, they were just a puff of smoke.
He scratched the back of his head and wiped sweat from his forehead. “All ri
ght, before we get into this, do all your parents know where you are?”
“Yeah,” Deacon said. “My brother brought me and Mary and he’s coming back to get us in a few.”
“I’ve got Scout and Ivy,” Scout’s grandma said. She glanced my way. “She knows you’re here, right?”
“She was sound asleep when I left. There was no time… I texted her, and her phone’s by her bed…”
She waved her arms and shrugged. “Sounds like I’m a kidnapper.” She held out her hand. “Let me have your phone for her number. I’ll call her and make sure she knows you’re OK.”
Mr. Parrington looked at us and pointed toward the grass. “Sit.”
Deacon didn’t even try to stay upright. He lay flat on his back and crossed his arms over his forehead. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“First of all,” Mr. Parrington started. “We are only having this conversation because we’re all here at the scene and need to talk about it.” He picked at the grass by his leg. “When we’re all back at school tomorrow—and we will be—we won’t be able to discuss Corey’s situation. I’m counting on you all to remain respectful of her privacy.”
“We will,” Scout said. “But do you think all the others who are already screaming about this on social media are going to be as respectful?”
“Let me and the others take care of that at school.”
Like you took care of her? The words wanted out, but froze on the tip of my tongue.
Scout cleared his throat. “What’s going to happen now?”
“Corey made plans to die by suicide. That means she needs some serious help to make sure she doesn’t ever feel that way again. Her parents will put her in a facility where she’ll get intense therapy and be able to talk about it and find a way to handle her feelings.”
“Will we be able to talk to her?”
“Probably not for a while. She’ll have to do some hard work on her own and that will take time.”
“Why was the cop here?” Deacon asked.
“I think she was on routine patrol and got a hit on the 911 call. When a teenager is involved there are often more than one of you around, so I think she came to help control the scene. And… It’s not a crime to end your own life, but when an attempt ends in death—which it didn’t—there has to be confirmation it was suicide and not homicide.”