The Wicked Truth

by Pru Schuyler

  “Come on, baby. Don’t be like this,” he taunts, his voice pure rage.

  My skin is crawling.

  She struggles under his grasp. “Get off me!” she cries through his fingers.

  I waste no more time. I run up behind him and place my hands on the sides of his shoulders. I rear back and knee up as hard as I can. He lets out a scream of pain as his knees buckle, and he hits the floor. He rolls over and over, crying out in pain. I decide against the pepper spray. Apparently, one good knee in the groin did the trick.

  I reach out for Becca’s hand, and she takes it. I pull her forward and take off for the principal’s office.

  “Thank you,” she responds, her voice shaking.

  “Anytime,” I promise her.

  After helping her into the office, I meet up with Brooke and fill her in. She says she isn’t surprised. That, apparently, he gets busted for bullying all the time, but no one ever does anything.

  Brooke thinks it’s because he’s the star of the football team, untouchable.

  Jones has another thing coming if he tries that again.

  Today put a target on his back for me. If I had any doubts before that Callum was the one who had raped Brooke, I sure as hell don’t anymore. He was enjoying it in the hallway. Like a lion to a gazelle, preying upon his victim.

  I should’ve pepper-sprayed him.

  The rest of the day is uneventful, and I don’t run into either Callum or Becca.

  After school, Brooke drives us to the first dress store on our list. But after having no luck on finding the perfect dresses, we move on, only to run into the same problem at the next three stores. The dresses all look outdated, or they don’t have that extra-special trait. We head to the fourth store, praying they have what we’re looking for. Even though we aren’t entirely sure what that is.

  Love Is Love Boutique is small but elegant. We swipe through the racks, and I grab a few choices that might work.

  But I haven’t had the reaction I’m looking for. You know, the jaw-dropping moment where you go, That’s it.

  Brooke takes her first load into the fitting room while I’m still stuck, settling with my choices. I slide a blue sequined dress over on the rack, frustrated, and a glimmer of deep green shines down below.

  Huh, what’s this?

  I bend down and pick up the fallen dress. A lump builds in my throat, sending a sting behind my eyes. I fluff the dress up and suck in a sharp breath.

  “It’s perfect,” I whisper to myself.

  My hidden gem is a short, fit, and flared emerald-green lace dress. It has hand-beading all along the bodice, the neckline dipping into a soft V. The thin straps crisscross all the way down the back, tying at the bottom into a small bow. All over the hand-beading are tiny little sparkles, making the dress come alive.

  I head straight for the fitting room and call out to Brooke as I enter the curtain drawn entrance, “I think I found the one!”

  I hear her shuffle in or out of a dress in the room next to me.

  After a moment, she responds, “I did too! Come out when you get yours on!” She claps from outside my room.

  I strip at record speed, just itching to get into this dress. I step into the flowy emerald layers and pull the straps tight until it fits like a glove. There are no mirrors in the fitting room, just a large one outside. But I don’t need one. I feel like a princess. It was fate for me to find the dress.

  What are the odds that I noticed the small glimmer on the floor?

  “Okay, I’m coming out!” I announce to Brooke, my voice giddy.

  I slide open the curtain and am met with a speechless Brooke. I didn’t think she had that mode. She stares at me for what feels like minutes.

  “Oh, Stella, it’s definitely the one,” she says, her voice full of emotion.

  My heart swells.

  I take her dress in, and it looks like it was tailored for her. A deep V cuts down the front of the gorgeous gold gown. The floor-length hits right where it should. Which means zero alterations for the both of us. A long slit cuts all the way up her right leg, exposing her tanned skin.

  She looks confident as hell, and I’m so honored to have this girl as my best friend. She has the biggest heart and soul, and I wouldn’t change a thing about her. A sharp pinch stings my heart as the journal flashes in my mind, burning my chest.

  “You look amazing, by the way.” I grab her hand and twirl her under my arm.

  After procrastinating to change back, we finally check out and head back home, dresses in hand.

  We ride most of the way home in silence but for no other reason than the fact that we are each lost in our own plans of paradise for Friday. As far as I know, this is both of our first real dates since what happened. I’m so thankful she has Brady to go with. He has been nothing but absolutely sweet to her.

  A weird feeling of nostalgia hits me. But it isn’t for me; it is for Brooke. One of her entries told of the last dress-shopping experience she shared with Tiffany.

  Tiffany chose a gold dress for prom and told Brooke she was banned from wearing any shade of gold so that they wouldn’t clash in pictures. The problem was, Brooke had already bought a gown, and it was made of rose-gold sequins. She had to completely start over because of Tiffany.

  People talk about toxic relationships, but no one ever talks about toxic friendships, and I’m so thankful to have the most incredible best friend in the whole world.

  She will have to understand why I had to read her journal. She has to. Guilt presses into me, deepening the pit in my stomach.

  She has to. There’s just no other option.

  THIRTEEN

  I really want to talk to Becca this morning and make sure she’s okay. Raging bitch or not, she didn’t deserve what Callum did. No one deserves to be handled like that. My blood begins to boil, just thinking about him.

  I swear, I’m going to kill that boy.

  “Hey, Becca. Wait up,” I call down the hallway to her.

  I’d never expect a blossoming friendship after I got him off of her, but I expect civility at least.

  I get neither.

  She turns, throwing her hands on her hips, and her two minions follow suit.

  She slowly scans me from head to toe with disgust. “I’m sorry, Sarah. Why do you think it’s okay to talk to me?” she snaps.

  I’m more than confused. What’s her deal?

  I get it; we still hate each other—for dumb reasons. But I just wanted to check in and make sure she was okay.

  I slowly exhale, trying to be the bigger person. She gets one more shot.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened with—”

  She cuts me off, eyes wide, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you so obsessed with me? I don’t care, but leave me alone, you little freak.” She pivots, whipping her hair at me, and stalks off with her evil sidekicks.

  What the hell?

  Dumbfounded, I meander to my locker, meeting up with Cade.

  “Good morning, Stels.” Only Cade can make me not cringe at the use of that nickname. He leans against his locker, rocking torn jeans and a black T-shirt.

  His dark hair is tousled, and a few pieces fall against his forehead. I fight the urge to push them back up.

  “Good morning, Cade.” I smile back at him, still lost in my stupor of what just happened.

  “What went down with Becca over there?” He nods his head toward where we were talking.

  I shake my head, and a small laugh escapes.

  I filled him in on what I had seen happen between Becca and Callum. He wasn’t surprised by Callum’s actions. And he was proud of mine.

  I tell him that I just went to check on Becca and that she freaked out on me.

  “I don’t really know. I don’t get it. I just wanted to make sure she was okay, but every time I started to say anything about it, she cut me off,” I explain to him.

  “My guess is, she didn’t report it,” he says, irritation clip
ping his words. “They have a past.”

  She didn’t report it? But I took her to the office. Why wouldn’t she report it? My own words slap me in the face. I didn’t even report my own assault. I can’t possibly judge her for not reporting hers. It’s frustrating because I saw it. I saw the animal of Callum Jones in action, and I can’t do anything about it.

  I need to find a way to get him to admit what he did to Brooke.

  I try to shake off the frustration and anxiety of my early morning convo, but the heaviness in my chest doesn’t lift off in the slightest.

  “Our ride will be at my place at eight. Does that work for you?” He picks up a loose strand of my deep auburn hair and gently tucks it behind my ear.

  Warm shivers run down the side of my neck.

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll be ready.” My heart races. I can’t believe tonight will be our first date.

  He runs his fingers across my cheek. “Can’t wait.”

  His full smile flashes, reviving the flutter in my stomach. Even the smallest things this boy does affect me in the biggest of ways.

  After we get home, we decide to watch some throwback Hannah Montana before the hair and makeup crew get here in fifteen minutes. Brooke went all out. She hired hair and makeup artists to come pamper us.

  We need to be ready by seven thirty tonight, so we can get some quick pictures before the car gets here at eight. Mrs. Carver wants to get a bunch of group pics for her babies’ last fall formal.

  I’m so happy Brooke got asked by Brady. I haven’t seen her so genuinely happy about a guy since I met her. This is such a big night for both of us.

  This is my first date with Cade. A real date. With a guy I am really falling for.

  I’m still cautious, and I can feel myself holding back. But I want to give this thing with Cade a chance. I deserve to be happy. And to be with someone who truly makes me happy and who won’t hurt me.

  I want that guy to be Cade. I want to let myself fully open to him, but some walls have to be broken down over time with trust.

  I never expected to meet Cade or meet someone who could sneak past all my guards and latch on before my mind could stop them. A part of me always knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. Since the beginning, I have been hooked. From the moment his deep emerald eyes seared into mine, I was his.

  Knock, knock.

  Brooke beams at the arrival of our entourage. “Come in!” she cheers.

  The team comes in and gets their tools and chairs set up. Brooke and I try to finalize our choices as they call us over to our seats.

  The gorgeous blonde hairdresser introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Marissa.” Her sweet voice asks me, “What are we looking to do today?” Her bubbly hair loosely flows down her shoulders, creating an angelic glow around her head from the sun cascading through Brooke’s window.

  Feeling the pressure of needing an immediate decision, I say, “I have a few ideas. I kind of wanted to pick your brain.” I pull out my phone to show her my two options. Might as well let her decide.

  “Of course.” She smiles, her eyes dropping to my phone.

  I slide open the Hair album in my camera roll. “Okay, so here’s the first one.”

  I hold my phone to her. The first pic is of a girl with a loose updo bun. There are little curled pieces falling out around her face and small braids woven through it.

  I swipe to the second one. “Or this one.”

  The second choice is a half-up, half-down, loosely curled style. The top half is pulled up by two large, stretched-out braids pinned at the back. When I see them back to back, I’m leaning toward the half-up style.

  “I’m kind of feeling the half-up one,” I tell her.

  She studies the pictures for a second, flipping back and forth. “I think the half-updo will look so gorgeous with your dress. The bun is beautiful, too, but it will fall faster. I think we should go with the second one,” she replies as she runs her fingers through my hair.

  My chest warms with excitement. “Let’s do it.”

  Brooke is with the makeup artist, Cheryl, going into full detail on what she wants done.

  Poor lady. I laugh to myself.

  Brooke is such a little control freak.

  My hair getting played with is by far one of the best feelings in the entire world. As she gets started, I let my mind drift, fully living in the moment.

  She finishes curling my hair and pins up two beautiful braids. She sprays what I imagine is a full can of hair spray into my hair, and ta-da, it’s done.

  I look over to Brooke to see if she’s ready to switch, and I’m stunned. Don’t get me wrong; Brooke is absolutely stunning without her makeup, but holy moly.

  “Whoa, you look hot, B!” I whistle at her as we switch chairs.

  She twirls. “Just wait till my hair is done.” She winks at me.

  I shake my head at her, laughing. She’s not wrong though. She has the most luscious, long black locks.

  “Hey, do you have that pic of that loose bun? I think I’m going to do that,” she asks me.

  I lift my phone to show Marissa the style, but she waves my hand away.

  “Oh, I already saw it, honey. It’s going to look so good!” she tells Brooke.

  Brooke’s big smile breaks loose, showing off her perfect teeth. “I’m so excited for tonight, Stella. But I’m really nervous.” She twiddles her thumbs.

  “Nervous for what? Brady is going to lose his mind when he sees you. You’re so beautiful, B, inside and out.” A sting pulls behind my eyes as I revel in my love for my best friend.

  I honestly don’t know what I would do without her. I certainly wouldn’t be going on a date. I wouldn’t be going to a dance either. She pushes me out of my comfort zone. I’m never alone with Brooke by my side. Whether or not I’m in her presence, her strength and confidence are always with me.

  I check my phone for the time, and it’s already seven fifteen. Only fifteen minutes until Cade will see me, and my heart flutters at the thought.

  He’s going to be in a tux, which is probably going to destroy any resolve I have left. He still won’t tell me why he called a car instead of us just taking his, which I wouldn’t have minded in the slightest.

  Marissa claps her hands together, pride etched on her gentle face. All done, ladies. You look stunning.” She marvels at her and Cheryl’s work. “Have fun tonight!”

  We give them our thanks, walk them out, and head to B’s closet to get dressed. My chest tightens slightly. I’m nervous, but for the first time in a long time, it’s for the right reasons.

  We unzip our bags and slide our dresses off the hangers. I step into my emerald-green dress, an almost-perfect shade match to Cade’s eyes.

  “Help lace me up?” I ask Brooke and turn my back to her.

  Her fingers start working the crisscross pattern until it’s snug against my bare back. Her vanilla scent calms my nerves.

  “Okay, I feel obligated as Cade’s sister to tell you this.”

  My heart drops a little on the assumption that it’ll be negative.

  “I can tell he really likes you, Stella. He’s never been like this with any girl. I’ve never seen him look at a girl in the way I see him stare at you. It’s like you’re the only person in the room, and his eyes are glued to you always.”

  My chest aches but not in pain; it’s in a loving pressure so strong that my eyes begin to tear. I’ve never caught him staring at me. A lump in my throat rises, threatening to let the dam break.

  She’s never seen him look at a girl like he does with me? Cade really likes me.

  I mean, I knew to a certain degree, but to hear it from the one person he has spent literally every minute of his life with is a whole new thing entirely. I don’t know what to say. The ache in my chest settles, spreading warmth through me—Cade’s warmth.

  She ties the bottom of my straps together and spins me around to face her. She continues, a watery sheen coating her eyes, “I love you so much, Stella, and you’re m
y best friend. Cade is head over heels for you, and sometimes, he’s just not the best with his words. So, I just wanted you to see what I see.” She wipes a small tear that escaped from my eye.

  Dammit. I didn’t want to cry.

  “I really like him too, B.” My voice shakes.

  “I know. I can tell.” She smirks, and her sweet voice pours over me as she pulls me into her embrace.

  Mrs. Carver’s voice echoes into our room. “Ladies, the boys are here!” She must be downstairs.

  The lump in my throat reappears. I’m more nervous than ever after Brooke’s confession of Cade’s feelings for me.

  You got this. You got this.

  Brooke takes my hand and leads me out of the room, my guiding light in this tunnel of dark nerves.

  Butterflies in my stomach are sporadic, flying into each other. We hit the first step on the stairs, and my palms are sweating.

  I can’t believe I’m really going on a date, especially with Cade. Our first date.

  This can go one of two ways. This will either be the start of something so much more or it’ll be a horrible, horrible ending to what we already have. I don’t know what scares me more.

  We descend a few more steps, coming up on the final curve before we’ll be in view. I stop walking, pulling Brooke to a halt with me. I take a long, deep breath. I’m so anxious, and I don’t know if I’m ready for this. To let myself explore what this could be with Cade. I’m certainly not ready to say good-bye to him either.

  Brooke turns to me. Her smile is full, but I can tell she’s nervous too. She keeps shifting her weight.

  She tugs on my hand, grabbing my full attention. “I know you’re scared, Stella, but you look absolutely beautiful, and Cade is going to think the exact same thing,” she reassures me. “Let’s do this.”

  I slowly raise my head and let it fall into a small nod.

  Admitting you’re taking power back and doing it are two very different things. If I really want my power back from Austin, then I have to do this. I have to take a chance regardless of my fears. I have to take a leap of faith.

  We take the final step around the corner. I keep my eyes on the floor, too afraid to look up. We descend the last few steps. No turning back now.