The Wicked Truth

by Pru Schuyler

  “Thanks, Mom.” I shove my notebooks into my bag and rush out the door.

  I jump in my car, which my mom got fixed yesterday, and head straight to school. I need to fill Cal in.

  As soon as I get there, I shoot straight for his locker. I’ve been avoiding mine since … well, since Cade and I fell out. Cal has been my only friend at school. I know Cade is hurt and confused, but I can’t focus on that right now. We are so close to finally nailing this son of a bitch.

  “Hey, I got news.” I lightly slap his locker when I approach.

  Cal turns, towering over my small frame. “What is it?” His focus is intently on our case.

  “So, I was talking to my mom this morning—don’t worry; she thinks it’s for a class.”

  His wide eyes settle. He was obviously surprised, thinking I’d shared all that private info.

  I continue, “She said that since he was covered in an overpowering smell and that she never saw or heard him, he more than likely was scared that she would recognize him.”

  “Whoa. So, maybe Marty isn’t a far-off guess then.” He closes his locker and walks with me to class.

  I whisper to him before I duck into my classroom, “It has to be him.”

  “All right, let’s meet up later, and we’ll get the fucker.” He smiles.

  I smile back, a sense of pride beaming in me. “Let’s do it.”

  I spend the rest of my classes avoiding Cade and Brooke as much as possible as well as ignoring the newfound rumors of Cal and me. Which I’m sure is only pissing Becca off. I also decide to eat in the library again today because Cal sits with the rest of the football team. And that’s a lot of testosterone that I don’t want to deal with.

  After dumping my backpack into my locker, I set off to meet up with Cal at his house to start our Marty takedown. I ring Cal’s doorbell, waiting for him to answer. His family is still gone on vacay, but his grandma is here. I’m wearing jeans and a pink shirt, so I’m glad I get to see her again—fully clothed this time.

  The door opens, and Cal stands there in blue jeans and a black shirt. “Hey, come in.” He smiles at me.

  “Hey, I brought everything with me.” I lift up the bag that’s holding my clothes and camcorder.

  “Perfect.” He shuts the door behind me.

  I nod toward Gran’s room. “Is she awake?”

  “Yeah. When I told her you were stopping by, she made sure to take a nap early, so she’d be up to see you.” His eyes are full of gratitude.

  I smile up at him and lead the way to her room. “Knock, knock,” I announce as I slowly push her door open.

  “Hello, dear.” Her voice is more strained than I remember.

  “Hello. How are you feeling?” I take a seat in the chair near her bed and place her hand in mine.

  “Better than I look.” She laughs, and a sharp cough rasps out.

  “You look great.” I smile at her.

  “You’re too kind, dear. What are you two kiddos up to today?”

  She attempts to sit up but falls short. Cal helps her get into an upright position.

  Cal and I lock eyes.

  Homework, I try to send telepathically.

  “Stella is helping me with something for school. We won’t bore you with details,” he tells her.

  Close enough.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks his sweet gran.

  “I’m okay for now. Thank you.” She pats his hand.

  The gestures they share are small but speak a thousand words. Cal stands up and waits for me to join him. After a couple good-byes with Gran, we head out to his living room and finalize the last few details of tonight’s plan. Once we’re both confident in it, we grab our things and head out.

  When Cal and I pull onto Marty’s street, my heart is pounding out of my chest. This is it. We are finally going to catch him. Cal cuts the engine, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

  You got this. I flip down the mirror and check my makeup once more. Smudged mascara and lipstick—check.

  I look over to Cal, who seems just as nervous as me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice shakes a little.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I try to convince myself. I grab the bottle of vodka from the floorboard and take one swig to make my breath smell like it.

  “I’m right here,” Cal assures me as I step out of the car.

  Marty should be home alone right now. After a quick Facebook check, we saw his parents and sister are at the new Godzilla movie. Thank God for oversharing mothers.

  This should go as planned. I want to approach Marty the same way I did with Cal. I’ll appear wasted, easy to take advantage of, and I’ll see if he takes the bait.

  “All right, Cal, I’m putting you down,” I tell him before dropping the phone in my bag with him still on the line. And I press record on the camera.

  I stagger up the steps and ring Marty’s doorbell four times.

  “I’m coming!” Marty’s familiar voice calls from inside.

  Let’s do this.

  Marty opens the door, and his eyes scan me head to toe, taking in every inch. My skin crawls in response. I changed into the same black slip I wore to Cal’s. It definitely catches Marty’s attention.

  He forces his eyes to meet mine. “Um, Stella, what’s up?”

  I slur my words. “Just-came-to-see-you.” I lay a hand on his chest, pushing him back so I can step inside.

  Just like Cal, he quickly scans the streets. For what, I don’t know.

  I stumble past him, letting my hand trail across his torso. I find a seat on the large white leather couch in his sitting room. He joins me, just to my right. I set my bag down—with Cal on the line—on the floor between us.

  “Stella, are you okay? What’s going on?” Marty searches my face for the answer.

  “I had a few drinks and decided to come see you.” I poke my finger into his firm chest, playing my part perfectly.

  Any second now, he’ll pounce.

  “How about a glass of water?” he offers.

  Ugh, why is he making this so hard?

  “Sure.” I place my hand on his leg.

  His eyes fall to my hand, and he freezes. I feel his body tense under my palm.

  “Look, Stella, you’re a pretty girl, but it’s too complicated with Cade. He’s my best friend, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that, especially now.” His eyes flash apologetically my way. “I’m already on thin ice after today. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t know it was you. I’m really sorry. I know that isn’t any excuse.” He trails off and then slowly lifts my hand off his leg and places it in my lap.

  Dammit.

  Okay, we have two options here. The first one: tell him I know what he did and see how he responds. The second one … well, actually, the first option is all I’ve got.

  “I know what you did,” I tell Marty, keeping my drunk facade.

  His brow furrows. “What I did?”

  I still want to keep her name out of it. It’s her truth to tell, not mine.

  I look him dead in the eyes. “You raped her at the party, and your secret is out.”

  His face pales, and fear fills his eyes. “Wait, what?! What is your problem, Stella? I would never rape anyone!” His voice drops at the word rape, like it hurts him to say it. “Who told you that?”

  “We both know what you really are, Marty. A rapist.” I hold his gaze.

  “Look, Stella, I don’t know what you think I did, but I swear on my life, I would never rape anyone. What party?” His words tumble out of him like he’s really caught off guard.

  But is that from being confronted about it and being guilty or from being innocent?

  “The after-prom party at Cade’s last year. A girl was raped, and I think it was by you.” I jab my finger in his chest, feeling a sense of power heat through my veins.

  “The after-prom party,” he mumbles to himself, straight-faced. His body then relaxes. He whips out his phone and starts
typing frantically. He finds what he’s looking for and twists the phone around in my face.

  On the screen is a picture of him and I’m guessing his family and his prom date at Russo’s Diner. It’s time-stamped—11:59 p.m., day of prom. That doesn’t completely exclude him.

  “I was at Russo’s with Hannah and my family till two a.m. Then, Hannah and I decided to go to Cade’s party. She was with me the entire time—you can check with her. I didn’t rape anyone. What made you even think I did?” Rage rises in him.

  Shit.

  He has to be lying. He was my last option. I don’t even know where to go from here. I can’t start over again. I drop my shoulders and the drunk act and stand, ready to flee from this embarrassing scene. I try to step past him, but he cuts me off.

  “Uh-uh. What’s going on here?” He steps in front of me.

  “It’s a lot to explain, and I’m sorry I came here. You were my last option. I have to go.” Defeat takes over, twisting my stomach in tight knots.

  “Stella, what is going on?” he pleads, his posture softening.

  His doorbell chimes through the house. He steps out of the way, heading to the door, and I follow, ready to make a quick escape. When he opens the door, Cal steps in, his eyes bouncing around until they land on me.

  “Come on, Stella. Let’s go.” Cal steps to me, but Marty blocks his path.

  “No one is leaving this goddamn house until someone tells me what the fuck is going on!” Marty slams the front door behind Cal.

  “We’re leaving when I say we leave.” Cal tells Marty, his voice deep and threatening.

  I jump, stepping back into the entry table.

  “Marty, it’s hard to explain, and it’s not my information to share with the world, okay?” I plead with him.

  “No, not okay. How many other people have you done this to? Does Cade know? Does Cade know you’re hanging out with Callum fucking Jones? How about I call him, and you can fill all of us in?” His voice is sharp, calculated.

  Cade can’t know anything about this. He can’t get any whiff of the trail about Brooke. He will just get angry and not be able to stay out of it.

  “Okay, fine, fine. I’ll tell you. But Cade stays out of it. He can’t know about this. Okay?” My voice is clear as day.

  “Okay, deal.” Marty steps away from the door and heads to the living room.

  We follow him in and sit down, getting ready to spill all of Brooke’s secrets.

  “Someone I know was raped at Cade’s after-prom party, and I made it my mission to find out who did it. My first guess was Callum. Sorry, Cal.” I smile at my new friend. “My other suspect was you. No offense, but you’re a little pushy and forward at school, and you were the only other one who stood out. You only solidified your spot on my list when you touched me.” I sigh, still a little uncomfortable from our hallway scene.

  Cal stiffens beside me.

  “I’m sorry, Stella. Really, I am. But how do you know that it happened at the party? You weren’t there,” Marty points out.

  I fill him in, “I know because she’s my friend, and she doesn’t know who raped her.”

  His gaze glazes over while he’s lost in thought. Seconds, maybe minutes, pass as I watch the wheels click behind his eyes. Then, immediately, his eyes light up, and I worry that I shared too much information.

  “Hold up. She’s your friend, Cade can’t know, and it happened at his party.” He counts off on his fingers. Then, all color drains from his face, his voice barely audible. “Oh my God, it was Brooke, wasn’t it?” he whispers.

  Cal turns to me, jaw open.

  “It’s not important,” I shoot back.

  “Oh my God,” Cal mumbles in shock.

  “Wait, you didn’t know?” Marty turns to him.

  “No, I never asked,” Cal responds, monotone, still in shock.

  Marty sits up tall, shaking his head. “What do we know?”

  Another member just joined Team Stella. I look to Cal and then to Marty in the eyes, thankful for not having to do this alone. I have no idea who it could possibly be, but I have no doubt that we will be able to find him.

  “It happened in her room. She was listening to music to drown out the party. He snuck in and grabbed her from behind. She never saw his face or heard him.” I keep my eyes locked to the floor, telling her story. My heart twists. I try to keep the facts straight, keeping my mind separate from the words leaving my lips.

  I can feel the room heat up, spreading from Marty.

  “When we find him, I’m going to kill him.” Marty’s voice rumbles low. “Brooke is like my little sister.”

  “Do you remember seeing anyone go into her room?” I ask him.

  His eyes close, as he’s lost in the past. “No, I was never near her room. Hannah and I stayed in the kitchen the whole time. If I had just gone to check on her …” His voice breaks.

  I put my hand on his back. “You couldn’t have known, Marty.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes opening. “What else do we know?”

  “Not much. Nothing happened after that.” The words of her journal fill my vision. “Oh, wait. He stole her necklace.”

  Marty scoffs, disgusted. “He ripped her necklace off of her after that? Fucking bastard.” His voice rises with the heat coming off of him in waves.

  My heart burns as I remember her pain. “One more thing: she said he smelled like he’d bathed in Lemon Pledge. It was so strong that it made her eyes water.” My whole body aches.

  I miss her so much. I miss our movie nights. I miss her too-tight hugs. I miss my best friend. I miss the intense connection. I didn’t realize how deep she was rooted into me until she was gone.

  Cade.

  My heart splits at the thought of his name. I have to force him out of my mind most of the time. I miss his lips on mine, how safe and loved and cherished he made me feel. I miss him. I’ll get him back. I have to. I love him, and nothing will ever change that. It’s only him. It will only ever be him.

  “Wait.” Marty’s voice pulls me from my somber thoughts. “Did you say, he smelled like Lemon Pledge?” His voice goes cold.

  I sit up. “Yeah, why? Do you remember someone smelling like that?”

  He nods, pain trembling on his lips, face white as snow. “There was someone that night who said he was using Lemon Pledge, and the can got clogged. When he tried fixing it, it went off like crazy, dousing him in it. He said he was just trying to help clean up. God, I feel so stupid.” He pauses and wipes down his face with his hands. “I think I’m going to puke.”

  Oh God.

  My voice is disconnected from my body, sounding distant to my own ears. “Marty, who was it?”

  He slowly looks up, fear striking his broken face. Whatever he just remembered will forever change him. It will forever change all of us. His face is distorted, wretched from the seemingly harmless memory.

  His pale face shifts to green and then red, hatred burning under his skin. Nothing will ever be the same after this. My stomach drops.

  He cries out, “It’s Brady. It’s fucking Brady.”

  The world spins.

  This truth will destroy her.

  TWENTY

  When I wake up this morning, I am haunted by more than my own demons. Brooke’s monsters have nestled their way into my nightmares as well, Brady leading the darkness.

  A sick, nauseous feeling has been dwelling in my stomach since we found out who Brooke’s rapist really was.

  I haven’t been sleeping a lot or eating for that matter. Between my own haunting past and Brooke’s current nightmare, my brain never really rests.

  A knock on the door startles me. My mom opens before I can answer.

  “Good morning. Big day!” she cheers and walks in with a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice.

  Big day?

  Oh crap.

  I told her I would fill out applications with her today. She’s always had this plan where we would sit down and decide which school I preferred
and what I wanted to pursue, blah, blah. I committed to this before school started, before my life became a plot straight out of Nancy Drew. But my mind is a thousand miles away right now.

  She sets the tray on my nightstand and checks my forehead. “Feeling okay, honey? You’ve seemed kind of out of it these last few days,” she expresses her concern.

  You have no idea.

  “Just been tired. I woke up with a headache this morning.” I hate how easy it’s gotten for me to lie.

  “Okay, sweetie. Make sure you’re drinking water. Eat your breakfast, get dressed, and I’ll meet you at the table.” She smiles at me, leans down, and gently kisses my forehead, and then she walks out of my room.

  I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but these pancakes smell like they were baked in heaven. I cut a little piece of the edge and plop it in my mouth.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper to myself. These are so, so good.

  I don’t stop with one bite. I finish the entire plate and orange juice before lying back on my bed with my food baby.

  After letting my tummy rest for a few minutes, I finally drag myself up to get dressed. A white sweater and leggings make up my outfit. I grab fuzzy white socks to match. I toss my hair into a loose, flowy side ponytail and call it good.

  Hopping the steps downstairs, I meet my mom at our dining table that sits over eight people, which is ridiculous. Strewn all over it are pamphlets for tons of schools in Colorado, out of state, even abroad. She went above and beyond.

  I want to be able to make some decisions about my life right now. But the truth is, I have no clue where I will be a year from now—or even a day. My heart drops. I want to be with Cade. I want to be planning my future with him. Instead, I’m stuck, stranded in my own world.

  Lost and confused, my mind is clouded with the past and present; I can’t even begin thinking about my future.

  But I know better than to try to get out of this. She obviously put a lot of work into it, and I think this has always been more for her than me anyway.

  I let her walk me through every pamphlet, telling me what her likes and dislikes are for each one. I go as far as filling out a few of the applications. Surprisingly, I actually end up enjoying it more than I expected. It is a nice little distraction.