by Kelly Oram
All the air left my lungs, and my eyes burned. They told people I was a charity case?
“What?” Juliette gasped.
She stared at the TV with wide eyes. Vivian was gaping at the screen too, shaking her head in disbelief. “There has to be an explanation.”
“There is,” I muttered. “Damage control.”
“But we saw you guys together. Ella, the way he looked at you… I don’t think he would have—”
I cut her off before she could defend him. “I’m sure he didn’t want to, but he does whatever he’s told. He was only dating Kaylee in the first place because his management team made him. His people obviously thought leaving Kaylee for an ugly nobody was bad for his career.”
“Ella.” Rob frowned.
I shook my head, not wanting to let Rob contradict me. “Just turn it off.”
Juliette reached for the remote, but paused when the anchorwoman said, “Brian may have been a little camera shy, but we managed to catch up with Kaylee and she had plenty to say on the subject.”
“I’m sure she did,” the older man next to her joked with a chuckle that set my blood boiling.
“This can’t be good,” Vivian muttered.
The screen changed to a picture of a woman holding a microphone out to Kaylee. Kaylee stood poised and perfect for the cameras. “Oh, please,” she said when asked about Brian kissing me. “Do you really think Brian would cheat on me for some little girl like that?” She waved a dismissive hand. “He met her for one of those make-a-wish-come-true charity things. The girl’s a really big fan of his. He agreed to it because she has some blog he likes. He spent the whole day Friday tweeting about it.”
“So you were okay with him kissing her?” the reporter asked.
Kaylee’s responding glare made the reporter take a step back. As soon as she could bury her annoyance, she plastered a smile on her face. “Obviously I wasn’t very happy about that,” she said, “but I forgive him. I’m sure he just felt sorry for her. I mean, you saw what she looked like, with all those scars. And she can’t even walk. That’s why he had to carry her out of there. Trust me, I’m not worried.”
“She did not!” Vivian shouted, outraged.
“She’s evil!” Juliette agreed.
Rob’s fingers slipped into mine as Kaylee Summers’ face flashed on the screen with a smug smile. I squeezed the offered hand for all it was worth.
On screen, Kaylee continued her phony gush-fest. “Brian’s just such a nice guy. He has a hard time saying no, especially to his fans. He’s always trying to please everyone.” She sighed as if she thought Brian were a silly boy. “He’s always trying to be the hero.”
“It sounds as if he was the perfect choice to play the heroic Price Cinder, then,” the reporter said.
“It’s true,” Kaylee agreed. Then, suddenly, the easy smile slipped from her face and she stared hard at the reporter. “And if that stalker ever tries to come anywhere near my fiancé again, she’ll learn why I was the perfect woman to play the fierce warrior princess Ratana. Brian is mine.”
Juliette finally turned the TV off.
Rob, Vivian, and Juliette immersed me in a group hug. I was grateful to them, but when they tried to console me with words I asked them to leave. I’d had a long day, and I just wanted it to be over.
. . . . .
Brian’s lie may have saved his reputation, but it destroyed my life. I woke up the next morning to an e-mail inbox full of hate mail. Brian and Kaylee fans alike didn’t take kindly to the psycho stalker who almost broke up the “perfect” couple. My blog, Twitter, and Facebook were littered with profane, hurtful comments.
At school it was worse because I wasn’t just a stalker. To my classmates, I was a pathetic liar. Everyone accused me of lying about being friends with him. Never mind the fact that I never claimed to know him at all.
Rob and Vivian were both waiting for Juliette and me in the parking lot when we got to school. Their grim faces told me everything I needed to know about how this day was going to go—not that I hadn’t guessed. All three of them walked with me through the breezeway, glaring and yelling at anyone who approached me. Their presence didn’t stop the bravest people from laughing and shouting horrible things, but at least they kept their distance.
Juliette was the first to reach my locker and, with a startled gasp, she whirled around and threw her back against it, covering the front from my view. “Why don’t we just go to class? Who needs books?”
“I appreciate the gesture, Juliette, but I have to get in there, so I’m going to see whatever it is, anyway.”
Juliette shook her head.
“Jules, whatever it is I’m going to hear about it sometime today.”
When Juliette finally stepped aside, Vivian echoed her gasp and Rob made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. My lovely classmates had been so kind as to decorate my locker permanent marker-style with words like psycho, stalker, whore, loser, ugly, freak, and cripple.
I told myself they were just words and that they weren’t true. I told myself my classmates were jealous and that they didn’t know the truth. I told myself that I had three friends standing with me who supported me, and that was all that really mattered. Still, no matter what I told myself, seeing my locker like that hurt.
When I closed my eyes against the sting of tears and sucked in a deep breath through my nose, a hand came down on my shoulder. “Let’s call Mom and Dad,” Juliette said. “They’ll let you go home today.”
“What would be the point?” I asked. My voice shook as I fought to keep control of my emotions. I opened my locker and swapped out the books I needed for my first class. “If I’m not here today, they’ll just wait until tomorrow to harass me, or the next day, or the day after that.”
As I slammed the locker closed, Rob’s arm came around me. I leaned into him, letting his presence comfort me. He kissed my forehead and then began escorting me to my first class. “We’re here with you, Ella.”
I squeezed him back and took another breath. “Thanks.”
If only the three of them could have been with me the entire day. Juliette was in my second class, but none of them were in my first class. I was on my own for the walk from first to second period.
I kept my head down to avoid the nasty looks as I walked down the hall. I didn’t see the group of guys trailing me with trouble in their intent until it was too late. “Hey, freak,” one of them greeted me. That was the only warning I got before he kicked my cane out from under me.
I crashed to the ground amidst a roar of laughter. Luckily, I broke my fall with my good arm, managing at least not to do any more damage to my skin grafts. My reconstructed hip that caused most of my limp slammed against the floor, sending a shooting pain through me so intense that my eyes welled up with tears.
A girl from my first hour class who’d been particularly mean all year draped herself against the guy who’d just kicked my cane and laughed. “Where’s Brian Oliver to carry you to safety now, Ella? Oh, that’s right—he’s with his real girlfriend, because he doesn’t really care about you. You’re just a pathetic stalker.”
I reached for my cane so I could pull myself up and some other jerk kicked it across the walkway out of my reach. “Oops, sorry!”
I couldn’t get to my feet from the ground without something to pull myself up on, so I was literally stuck there until someone decided to take pity on me. It was completely degrading, and the meanest thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life.
With the exception of when Jason tore my skin graft, I never cried in school and I didn’t want to start now. That’s what these people wanted—to reduce me to tears. I didn’t want to give them the pleasure, but I was so humiliated that I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up.
“Oh, no,” Mean Girl taunted. “Is poor little Ella going to cry again like she did on TV last night?”
Unable to take it any longer, I finally gave them what they were waiting for. I buried my face in
my hands and began to sob.
A girl standing by who’d witnessed the scene picked up my cane and tried to hand it to me, but some other random jerk plucked it out of her hands and began to play keep-away. “You guys, cut it out!” The girl bent down, and after asking if I was okay, informed me that her friend went to get the principal. It was nice of her to stand up for me, but I still couldn’t stop crying.
“What the hell is going on?”
Relief washed over me at the sound of Rob’s voice. He dropped to the ground and wrapped his arms around me. “Ella, what happened?”
“I don’t know why you’re bothering with her, Rob.” I didn’t look to see which guy was talking. I figured it was better if I didn’t know. “Did you see her scars, dude? Nasty. I heard they cover her whole body. Do you seriously want to hit that?”
The arms around me disappeared and seconds later there was a loud crack and a ton of shouting. The commotion only lasted thirty seconds at best before several teachers broke up the fight, but it was long enough for Rob to bloody the nose and lip of the guy who’d kicked my cane out from under me.
Instead of trying to figure out what happened right there, the teachers sent everyone present—eleven of us in all—to the principal’s office.
The girl who stood up for me and two other people tried to help me up, but Rob shooed them away and wouldn’t let anyone near me. He helped me to my feet and handed me my cane, but my hip hurt so badly I couldn’t put any weight on my leg. For the second time in as many days, I had to be carried away.
. . . . .
The four guys involved in playing keep-away with my cane and the three girls who egged them on, laughed, and said rude things were all suspended for three days. Rob and the guy who’d kicked my cane out from under me both got a week’s suspension for fighting, and they were discussing the possibility of expulsion for my “assailant,” since his intentions had been malicious and resulted in me getting hurt. My fate had yet to be determined.
When my father showed up in the office—Jennifer, Daniel, Cody, and Dr. Parish in tow—I threw myself into his arms and soaked his shirt with tears. “Dad, take me out of this school. I don’t even care if I ever graduate. I’m done.”
My dad hugged me tightly and ran a hand over my head. “Okay, kiddo. We’ll find another way for you to finish.”
He barked at someone over my head, probably Principal Johnson. “I’m removing my daughter from this school. I expect a full refund for her tuition, and I’m having this place put under review.”
“Mr. Coleman, what happened today was inexcusable,” Principal Johnson said, “but don’t you think that is a little extreme?”
My dad let go of me and whirled on the man. “Extreme? This is the second time my daughter has been assaulted on this campus during school hours! Where the hell was your staff, and why can’t you keep your students under control?”
Principal Johnson sputtered and stepped toward Dad with red cheeks. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Coleman, but this is an excellent school and my staff is extremely capable. Until your daughter came here, our track record for student altercations was almost spotless.”
“Are you saying this was Ella’s fault?”
“I’m saying trouble seems to find your daughter. You can’t blame that on this institution.”
“The hell I can’t! You are responsible for what happens here, and I’m going to make sure you’re held accountable for this.”
While the two of them continued to argue about this, Cody and Daniel bombarded me with questions and made me do all kinds of movements and stretches. After their brief examination, they decided I had a bruised hipbone and would have some extra stiffness that I’d have to work out with Daniel in physical therapy. Otherwise, I was okay.
Physically, anyway. Mentally, I was broken, and it didn’t take Dr. Parish much effort to get that bit of truth from me. “Ella, talk to me. How are you feeling right now?”
That one simple question made me explode into another round of sobs. “How am I supposed to feel right now? How can people be so cruel? And why? Why would anyone treat me this way? What have I done to any of these people to deserve this?”
“Nothing, Ella. You didn’t deserve this. No one would deserve this.”
Dr. Reassurance didn’t help. I felt as if my chest had burst open and spilled all the pieces of my broken heart on the floor. “Things were getting better here but the second they had some new material to tease me with, the torture started all over again—only worse! Is this going to be my life from now on? Am I always going to be tortured because I’m different?”
My question quieted the entire room. Everyone watched in silence as I broke down. And I didn’t just fall apart a little: I broke completely. Whatever was left of me—of my heart, my mind, my soul—shattered. I was swallowed by an ocean of hopelessness.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I sobbed. “Why even keep trying when there’s no point? I’m so tired of hurting. I’m tired of fighting. Tired of trying. None of it ever does any good. I wish I died in that accident with Mama.”
My father was at my side again, and pulled me back into his arms. “Ella, don’t say that.”
“But it’s the truth.”
The room fell quiet again, with nothing but the sound of my sobs to break the silence. When Dr. Parish recommended I be hospitalized a few minutes later, I was so heartbroken I didn’t put up a fight. Anything had to be better than this.
Brian
There was a loud pounding that just would not stop. I rolled onto my back with a groan. After wiping at the drool on my face, I risked opening my eyes. It was dark. Dark was good. Now if I could only get rid of the noise.
“Brian!”
I frowned. Since when did my inner monologue sound like my assistant?
“Brian! Don’t make me get the hotel staff to open this door!”
I blinked again and looked around. I was alone in a dark hotel room in…Las Vegas? My brain started to wake up and connect the dots. After Ella rejected me, I’d driven to Vegas and gotten hammered. How long ago was that? A few hours? A day?
“Brian!”
Well. However long I’d been here, it was long enough for Scotty to come looking for me. Damn my overzealous assistant. “I thought I told you to take a few days off!”
With another groan, I rolled out of bed and stumbled my way to the door. I immediately shut my eyes against the violent stream of light that poured in the room from the hallway. “Why don’t you just come in and beat me to death with a sledgehammer? Enough with the damn pounding.”
Throwing the door open for Scott to enter, I grumbled my way back to bed.
“Here.” Scott chucked a bottle of aspirin at me as I crashed back onto the bed. “That ought to help.”
“It will if I chase it with a bottle of Scotch. You don’t have any of that in that magical man purse of yours, do you?”
“Someone’s a grumpy drunk.” Scott pulled a bottle from his messenger bag and tossed it to me. Water. Damn.
I chugged the water, along with a handful of painkillers, and then frowned at Scott. “I am a very lovable drunk, thank you very much. I’m just a lousy morning-after.”
“Try two mornings after.”
Two days? I tried to think and it made my head hurt. “Has it been that long?” I rolled over and snuggled up with my blessed pillow. “What have I been doing for two whole days?”
“Not answering your phone.”
“I don’t even think I’ve left this suite since I got here.”
“I’m sure,” Scott replied. “If you had, you’d have seen the news, and I doubt if you knew what was going on you’d be living your own personal The Hangover sequel.”
“That sounds ominous.” I pulled the covers all the way up over my head. Maybe if I couldn’t see Scott anymore, Wonder Assistant would disappear and let me go back to sleep. “So Kaylee’s on the rampage, then? Is my life ruined yet? Am I the most-hated person in America now?”
Scott y
anked my covers all the way to the floor. “Not you.” There was enough irritation in his voice that I finally noticed the sense of urgency. “Ella.”
I sat up so fast my head spun. “What do you mean? What happened?”
Not waiting for Scott’s answer, I swiped my phone off the night table and dialed Ella’s number. “That’s not going to work,” Scott said, just as the operator informed me that Ella’s number was no longer in service.
Fear caused adrenaline to pump through my body, instantly pushing the last of the fog from my brain. “What’s going on? Why isn’t Ella’s phone working? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get ahold of her. I tried the phone number, e-mail, and instant messenger you have listed in your contacts, and they’re all out of service.”
I was ready to wring the answers from Scott if he didn’t explain everything right this damn second. I was so upset over Ella refusing to be a part of my life that I forgot I’d made her an overnight celebrity. Had her identity been discovered? Was she being harassed? Had Kaylee done something?
“Talk to me, Scotty. I know it’s bad if you followed me all the way to Las Vegas in your POS Toyota.”
“Actually, I flew here. I thought you’d want to go straight home and wasn’t sure you’d be in any condition to drive.”
Judging from the look Scott gave me as he assessed my rumpled state, he was probably right. “Good thinking.”
Scott smirked. “I thought so. I also used your credit card to book the flight and upgraded myself to first class.”
Even in the midst of my panic I had to smile at that. “You’re really starting to get the hang of this job.”