Thousand Words

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Thousand Words Page 3

by Jennifer Brown


  There was silence for a few minutes, and then Darrell piped up from his computer. “You ever regret it? Sleeping with that Jonah guy, I mean?” Darrell was always doing that—asking people really awkward questions at really awkward times. Mrs. Mosely’s head popped up and she studied Kenzie. I stopped reading and turned my head slightly, too, watching them out of the corner of my eye.

  “No. You regret beating the shit out of people?” Kenzie’s tone was hostile, but Darrell pressed his lips together, sheepish.

  “Sometimes, yeah. Like when I see my mom cry, I do. I don’t mean to make nobody cry. I got a hot head is all.”

  The room was silent and had an on-edge feel that couldn’t be ignored. I waited for Mrs. Mosely to say something, but she just kept staring over the top of her book.

  Then, finally, Amber cut the silence. “We all’d rather be out there having a good time than doing this, right? I regret stuff, too. Lots of stuff. Especially stuff that got me here every day. Nothing wrong with regret.”

  “Well, I don’t regret anything,” Kenzie said. “Life’s too short for that shit.” She pushed away from her desk and pulled herself to standing, her hand on the small of her back. “Mrs. Mosely, can I use the restroom, please? Baby’s sitting down low.”

  Restroom breaks were supposed to be scheduled, and Mosely didn’t often veer from the schedule. But this time she nodded, and watched Kenzie saunter out of the classroom before finally looking back at her book.

  “Everybody regrets some things,” Darrell muttered after Kenzie had left. “Wouldn’t be human not to.”

  And that was the end of the conversation. But for some reason I couldn’t turn my eyes back to the article I’d been reading. I knew it was full of things I regretted. Things I regretted so much it hurt to even look at them, to remember them. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I had so many regrets, I wasn’t even sure where they began. Was my biggest regret not having the guts to tell Rachel to take a hike? Was it falling in love with Kaleb? Or was it the simple motion of standing up, tossing a drink, and marching into Vonnie’s house that night at the pool party?

  Or was it something else altogether? Something deeper, more ingrained in me?

  I opened my eyes and glanced to my left. Mack had stopped clicking and was staring right at me. Even though his earbuds were in, I was sure he’d heard everything they’d all said. And for some reason, I had a feeling he knew why I was so silent. Our eyes locked for the briefest moment before he turned back to his computer.

  AUGUST

  Message 13

  uh i don’t think u ment to send this to me lol

  Only a few partiers were inside Vonnie’s house, and they were all in the kitchen, easy to slip past as I charged toward my things. If even one of them had stopped me to talk, I probably would have lost the resolve I’d worked up out on the pool deck. My stomach felt full of butterflies, and I actually giggled to myself as I located my bag by the front door and rooted through it for my cell phone.

  I grabbed the phone and bag and ran downstairs, noticing how grainy everything looked. I felt removed from my surroundings, like they were movie props and I was watching them go by in someone else’s life.

  There was a tiny voice in the back of my mind wondering if I was really going to do this. I was an honor student. An athlete. I made dinner with my parents every night and I got awards and I was a virgin. I rarely drank, I was responsible, I was not the kind of person who normally did something like this.

  But what did that mean, something like this? It’s not like this was a huge deal. People did it all the time. It was just for fun. Who would it really hurt?

  Locked inside the bathroom, I turned on the light and shed my bikini, then faced the mirror, immediately feeling really stupid. There was no way I could actually take this picture. What if he didn’t like it? What if he got mad at me for sending it? What if he thought I looked ugly?

  My breasts were way too small—one of those athletic chests boys are always complaining about. My hair was in nasty, half-dried ropes, and my eyes were red from the chlorine. I closed them and took a deep breath, straightening my thoughts.

  I was not ugly. Kaleb would never think I was ugly. How many times had he told me he thought I was beautiful? Every time we talked, almost. I was just nervous. And nervous about what?

  I opened my eyes and studied myself again.

  At least I was tan. I worked out every day, so I was in good shape. And it’s not as if anyone is perfect, right? And, seriously, like Rachel said, Kaleb was a guy. He was not going to be picky.

  And he loved me. He would love this. He would love that we shared this.

  I raked my fingers through my hair to break up some of the tangles, then held the phone in front of me and off to the side so everything was showing in the full-length mirror. I heard the music pounding outside and distant laughter and some squeals. A splash. The sound of something falling over with a clang in the kitchen. A car honk. I thought I could even hear the electricity buzzing in the lightbulbs. Or maybe the buzzing was coming from the adrenaline coursing through me. Vonnie and Rachel would never believe I’d done this.

  “Just do it,” I said aloud, and before I could give it any more thought, I struck a pose with my free arm draped over my head sexily, cocked one hip to the side, pooched my lips, and took the picture.

  I turned the phone around and gazed at the screen. I was surprised to see that I didn’t look as bad as I’d thought I might. My pose was good, and the wet hair gave the shot an even sexier vibe. My heart was pounding as I thumbed a message—WISH YOU WERE HERE XOXO—and hit Send. And then stood, holding my phone up against my stomach and staring at myself unbelievingly in the mirror.

  I got dressed in my street clothes, feeling way too exposed in my bikini all of a sudden, and raced back up the stairs. I grabbed a glass of water on my way out to the patio. My throat felt parched and swollen, and my hands were definitely shaking.

  As soon as Rachel and Vonnie saw me coming, their faces lit up with interest. Vonnie had moved to my lounge but scooted over and patted the plastic next to her. I could tell by the looks on Cheyenne’s and Annie’s faces that they’d been filled in on what I’d been doing inside.

  “Well…?” Rachel said as I made my way over.

  I nodded, biting my lower lip. “I did it.”

  They all gasped. “Shut up, you did?” Vonnie crowed.

  I nodded again. “Full frontal.”

  “Oh my God, full frontal? Even my brother’s slutty girlfriend only shows her boobs,” Rachel said.

  My face felt more on fire than it had during that morning’s run. I snapped my fingers, diva-style, and jokingly gestured down the length of my body. “That’s because your brother’s slutty girlfriend doesn’t have this,” I said.

  We all collapsed into laughter, the girls saying they couldn’t believe it, they never thought I’d actually go through with it, they’d never have had the guts to do it, and holy crap, what was Kaleb going to say.

  “Let me see it,” Vonnie said, holding out her hand.

  I gripped my phone tighter and whipped it behind my back. “No way!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s not like I’ve never seen you naked before. I’m not some kind of perv or anything. I just want to see how it came out.”

  I stuffed the phone in my front pocket, imagining what could happen if I gave it to Vonnie. I could see it now, my picture getting passed around the pool, Vonnie screeching to Stephen that he could see me naked if he was still curious. “Forget it. Nobody but Kaleb is ever going to see this. I’d die first.”

  “Oh, suddenly she gets all shy,” Rachel commented, and I shot her a look. She raised her eyebrows at me. “I’m kidding! If it makes you feel any better, I definitely don’t want to see it.”

  “Fine,” Vonnie said. “But at least tell us about it.”

  I opened my mouth, but before I could speak a word, I was interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I’d gotten a text.
/>   From Kaleb.

  DAY 6

  COMMUNITY SERVICE

  On my sixth community service day, Amber was finished with her pamphlet, so Mrs. Mosely brought in some chips and cheese dip and sodas and mini doughnuts. Apparently, whenever someone finished a project in Teens Talking, it was treated like a small celebration. There was a presentation, and Mrs. Mosely asked questions, and then she broke out the food and everyone congratulated the person who was done with their time. That was the most important part to us—the proof that eventually your service would end and maybe your life would get back to normal. We were all simultaneously jealous of and motivated by Amber.

  She showed up late, wearing a shiny black jumper that was at least two sizes too small for her, and a pair of heels. Her hair was piled up on top of her head like she was going to prom, and it occurred to me that probably Amber and Kenzie, and maybe some of these other guys, didn’t even go to school anymore. Instead of planning for prom, they were here, writing pamphlets, doing their time, then going back to lives full of drugs and vandalism and pregnancy and things that never really entered my world. But no sooner did I have the thought than I realized I was probably making an unfair assessment. After all, I was there, wasn’t I? It was my world now.

  Mrs. Mosely had us all pull our desks into a semicircle so everyone could see. Kenzie sat next to another girl who I assumed was Angel, the girl who’d been missing last week. Their heads were together, tucked low, as they whispered, every so often stifling laughter behind their hands. Kenzie absently rubbed her stomach with one hand the way pregnant women do. It seemed weird that in a few weeks, her hand would be cradling a baby’s head instead; her whole life would be changed forever.

  “Yo, Mose, I’m here, man,” Darrell said, bouncing into the room at the last second. “Don’t count me absent.” Following close behind him was Mack, silent as ever, who slouched into the chair next to mine and stretched his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

  “Better late than never, I suppose,” Mrs. Mosely said, leaning back against her desk, arms folded across her chest. Darrell dropped his paper onto her desk and plopped into a chair on the other side of Angel, and we all settled down.

  “Okay,” Mrs. Mosely said, “as you all know, today is Amber’s last day. She’s completed her requirement and finished her project, which she’s going to share with you momentarily.” She glanced at Amber. Amber’s cheeks flushed red, and she ducked her head down toward her desk, one leg bouncing nervously. “After Amber shares her project with us, we have some treats. You will take a five-minute break to get yourself a plate, and then everyone must get back to work, okay? This is not a social gathering.” She gazed at us each in turn. I wondered if Mosely ever looked soft. I wondered if she went home at night and put on pink fuzzy pajama bottoms and brushed the pomade out of her hair and washed her makeup off and watched chick flicks. Somehow I doubted it.

  “No problem,” Darrell said.

  “Okay. Remember to be polite. Your turn to do this will come soon enough.”

  “Yeah, and karma will bite y’all’s asses if you mess with my girl,” Kenzie said.

  Mrs. Mosely took a breath, ignoring Kenzie, then nodded at Amber and sat down. Amber gathered up some papers and strode to the middle of the semicircle.

  “So my project was about alcoholism because I got busted with Minor in Possession in my cousin’s car. She got a DUI, though.” She looked at Mrs. Mosely nervously, and Mrs. Mosely nodded for her to continue. “So basically I decided to make some posters that talk about alcoholism and how it’s not cool to get wasted.” Amber unrolled a poster of a kid partying, holding a glass of something high and proud, with the caption HE NEVER MADE IT HOME THAT NIGHT. And then unrolled another of a girl in a hospital bed with all these tubes and wires coming out of her: WHEN PARTYING LEADS TO POISONING. And another of a little child crying: ALCOHOLISM DESTROYS FAMILIES. And finally one of a girl in a semiformal, her makeup smeared and her face red with tears, blotches of what looked like vomit staining the front of her dress: SHE WANTED TO LOOK SEXY FOR THE PARTY.

  I thought the posters were all really professional-looking, but from some of the things I’d overheard Amber and Kenzie talk about, I guessed Amber didn’t really believe in what the posters said, because she was still partying.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t help thinking that had I not been partying that night back in August, I wouldn’t even have been sitting in room 104. I wanted to suggest to Amber that she should add another poster, one of a girl taking a photo of herself, captioned ALCOHOL DESTROYS REPUTATIONS.

  I wanted to believe that the events of that night were what got me here. I wanted to think that if I hadn’t been drinking or I hadn’t listened to Rachel and Vonnie or I hadn’t done any number of other things, this wouldn’t have happened. But who knew for sure? Maybe I was just destined to live this misery.

  Amber went on to read from a pamphlet she’d made, where she quoted statistics about teen alcoholism and deaths due to drinking, as well as some myths.

  After she was done, she put the posters and pamphlet on Mrs. Mosely’s desk and stood awkwardly in front of us. “Um, I wanted to say that I’m glad I had to do this project because I have a lot of uncles and cousins who are alcoholics and it has messed up our whole family. And I don’t want to end up like them and I’m sort of afraid that I will.”

  Mrs. Mosely, who’d simply been watching with that stern look on her face throughout the whole presentation, let Amber’s words sink in and then said, “Now that you know better, you can do better, right? You don’t have to be like them. And hopefully you’ll reach someone else with your posters and they can do better, too.”

  Amber wiped the corners of her eyes with her long manicured fingers and nodded.

  Mrs. Mosely turned to face us. “Does anyone have any questions for Amber?”

  Darrell raised his hand.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t have a question,” he said. “I liked the posters. They were really good. That chick in the pink dress was messed up. Still hot, though.”

  “All right, Darrell, thank you for that,” Mrs. Mosely said in a tired voice. “Anyone else?”

  Nobody spoke, so Mrs. Mosely stood, walked over, and wrapped her arm around Amber. “Let’s congratulate Amber for finishing her community service.” We all clapped. “We’ll miss you, but we don’t want to see you back here,” she said. I guessed that was Mrs. Mosely’s way of being sentimental. “Okay, five minutes starts now.”

  Everyone got up and moved toward the food table, except for Mrs. Mosely and Amber, who were rolling up the posters and snapping rubber bands around them, and Mack, who stayed in his chair, continuing to look straight ahead as if Amber were still showing her presentation.

  I grabbed a plate and some chips and drizzled cheese dip over the top of them. My stomach growled.

  I piled a few doughnuts on my plate and started to head toward my computer but almost ran into Kenzie and Angel, who stood behind me, their shoulders touching. Kenzie had a weird grin on her face.

  “We know why you’re here,” she said. She licked some cheese dip off her finger. A little splat of it dripped and landed on her stomach, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Okay,” I said, because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to something like that. But they didn’t look away or move. I glared. “And your point is?”

  “It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad,” she said. “Like you didn’t get enough attention being all miss-perfect-got-money-athlete, you gotta go get more attention by sending crotch shots to everyone?”

  My face burned at the word “crotch.” “It wasn’t a crotch shot. Don’t be disgusting. And I didn’t send it to anyone but my boyfriend,” I said, then amended, “Ex-boyfriend.”

  Kenzie and Angel exchanged a glance. Kenzie looked amused, but Angel looked pissed.

  “You’re the disgusting one. Sending naked pictures to your ex-boyfriend?” Kenzie said. She laug
hed derisively. “God, how desperate! Even I’m not that desperate, and I got a baby coming.”

  “He was my boyfriend at the time,” I said, as if it mattered. I could feel my fingers shaking and hear the little rattle my chips made as the plate shook, but I refused to back down. I didn’t know what these girls were in community service for, but it definitely wasn’t for being honor roll students. They had no room to talk. “Not that I need to explain it to you.”

  “I don’t care about your boyfriend. What I care about is now my boyfriend has that picture on his computer,” Angel said. “And I think that’s what you wanted. Ho.”

  Of course, I knew that when a photo is uploaded onto a computer, anything can happen to it. It can float around forever, even if it’s deleted off the original website it was put up on. I just didn’t like to think about that. The thought made me nauseous. God only knew how many more people had it.

  “You’re nasty,” Kenzie said, smirking at me over her plate of food.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was all apologized out, and even if I hadn’t been, I sure as hell wasn’t going to apologize to these two for something that had nothing to do with them. “That’s your boyfriend and your problem,” I finally said, and tried to move around them, but they shuffled a step sideways to block me. My hand holding the plate continued to shake, and I hoped they didn’t notice.

  I searched for something to say to get them to go away, but I didn’t need to say anything, because before I could open my mouth, someone else did.

  “Leave her alone.”

  The voice was loud and made everyone jump. Even Mrs. Mosely and Amber looked up. The room got silent and all eyes turned to Mack, who still sat in his place in the semicircle. He didn’t even acknowledge that anyone was looking at him.

  Kenzie and Angel glared at him and then eventually turned back to me and glared at me, as if I’d had something to do with Mack speaking, but to my surprise they didn’t say anything to either of us. After a few seconds, they sauntered off, back to their desks, moving their chairs out of the semicircle and sitting close to each other.

 

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