Game of Fear

by Kabongo, Glede Browne

“What? I’m all right, Trevor,” I say in my brightest voice. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that you seemed out of it a moment ago, and you were out yesterday. You never skip school.”

  “I was sick yesterday, but I’m fine now.”

  “Good. Because you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  “What is it?”

  I can’t handle any more bad news. Trevor is right. I am stressed out. My future is at stake, and Sidney holds the key. Competition (both national and international) to get into the Ivies is intense, as in over 27,000 applications to Princeton alone last year. Based on results of my online research, Princeton only admits a paltry seven percent of applicants. Yale is even lower at a measly six percent, and Harvard admits five percent. All Sidney has to do is send my name along with that photo. They won’t even bother to consider my application. Even worse? It could have a viral effect. She could decide to send that picture to every school on my list. It’s no secret where I’m applying. My guidance counselor and teachers won’t shut up about it.

  “Sidney is acting out again,” Trevor says with a sigh.

  “What has she done now?” I ask.

  “She’s been telling people that you and Lance are hooking up. She saw the two of you coming out of the chapel and that you looked cozy. I’m telling you because Christian is going to hear about it too.”

  “I can’t deal with this right now,” I wail. “Sometimes I wish she would just die.”

  The words are already out, and I can’t take them back. The horror on Trevor’s face is all the proof I need that I’m close to a breakdown.

  “I didn’t mean that, Trevor. I just want her to stop aggravating me. It’s her new favorite sport, and it’s getting to me.”

  “Sidney has always been a troublemaker. Her jealousy is off the charts. She can’t stand it that Christian likes you and ignores her like an ugly baby.”

  I laugh at his joke. “I didn’t know you and Lance were friends,” he says.

  “Looking out for your bro, Christian? Want to make sure he doesn’t get played?”

  His eyes blink rapidly. “No. You’re not that kind of girl.”

  “Lance and I say hello when we see each other. We were at the chapel at the same time and left at the same time. I’m not the only student who goes there to pray or just to have some quiet time for reflection. Sidney is behaving like her usual hateful self. Besides, Lance has a girlfriend.”

  We arrive at my locker and Christian is waiting for me, looking like he just came from a GQ photo shoot. Seeing him makes me feel better. But I must get rid of both he and Trevor in case there’s a message from Sidney/The Avenger, as she promised. Trevor and Christian greet each other. Christian gives him a look. Trevor takes the hint and says he’ll see me in a few minutes for English lit.

  Christian leans in and plants a wet, lingering kiss on my cheek. I giggle like the teenage girl that I am. He does things to me.

  “How are you feeling this morning? I’m still mad at you. You wouldn’t let me come over and make you feel all better.”

  “Is this our first fight?”

  “Yes. But we’re still on for tonight, right?”

  I turn the combination for my locker, my back to him. “Oh, that dinner thing is tonight?”

  “Stop playing around. I know you didn’t forget.”

  I turn around to look at him after the lock pops. “I like seeing your face when I give you a hard time. Your expression is priceless.”

  “So, I amuse you, huh?” he asks and snakes his hand around my waist, pulling me close.

  “You do more than that.”

  That’s it. After school, I’m heading to the mall to purchase some kind of gag or mouth restraint thingy.

  “Sweet,” he murmurs and then kisses me. A slow, unhurried kiss, like we are the only two people on the planet. As if the very essence of time belongs to us. Once it’s over, I realize I have three minutes to make it to class on time.

  “I’m going to be late for class. See you tonight?”

  “I can walk you to class.”

  “That’s okay. I’m going to end up sprinting all the way there.”

  After he leaves, I open the locker and push a couple of books aside. It may be in the textbook that’s furthest to the right, on the top shelf of the locker. I’m spot on. My hands are sweaty as I reach for the book. Another piece of folded white paper sticks out from it, just like the first note. Butterflies roil in my stomach. I place the textbook back in its spot but don’t bother to close the locker. I open the message and begin to read.

  The Users.

  My name is first on the list, separate from the others, in bigger letters with a circle around it. The list is long, requiring three columns. Three names pop out at me besides mine. Kyle Davidson, Kerri Wheeler’s ex before she set her sights on Ty; Pete Cora and Aaron Bailey (no relation to Sidney) who were friends with Ty, and his teammates on the school’s championship crew team.

  I go down the rest of the list, column by column. I recognize several other names, people I’ve sat next to in class over the past four years, others who were a year or two ahead of me. Some of them are kids of rock stars, high profile politicians, CEOs, pastors of mega churches, and foreign diplomats.

  I sit on the floor with my back against the locker, alone with my thoughts. Getting to class on time doesn’t seem that important anymore. Then my phone rings, breaking through my melancholy. I reach for it in my pocket. Same as always, blocked number.

  “Hello.”

  “Did you get the list?”

  “What list? Who is this?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Abbie.”

  “What do you want? A gold star?”

  “You’re crabby right now. That annoys me.”

  “As far as I can tell, everything annoys you. I wish breathing annoyed you, too, so you would stop.”

  “Funny. The list is no joke. I think you know that, don’t you?”

  “Now what?”

  “Let the games begin. Don’t disappoint me. I know you’re up for the challenge. Looking forward to it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She hangs up. I stare at my phone, thinking she’ll call back. She doesn’t.

  I make it to English lit, and the only thing that saves me is the fact that Dr. Campbell is running late. She’s never late, but whatever. Trevor mouths the words, are you okay as I trudge to my seat. I nod. After I sit and place my backpack on the floor, I notice a piece of notebook paper folded in half on my desk. I open it and read it.

  Whore!

  My heart rate accelerates and nausea rises up in my throat. I place my hand over my mouth, afraid I’ll puke all over my desk. I look up to see Sidney standing next to me.

  “What have you got there, Abbie? A love note from your new boyfriend, Lance?”

  She’s like the one cockroach that would survive a nuclear blast. There’s just no getting rid of her. I remove my hand from my mouth and hold up the note so she can see it. I speak loud enough to be heard by the class of twelve.

  “Someone called me a whore. It takes one to know one, doesn’t it, Sid? You’re miles ahead of me, but who’s counting?”

  All our classmates look in our direction, stunned and curious. That includes Trevor, who just shakes his head.

  “You make me sick,” she says. “Don’t get too cocky. You’re due for a takedown.”

  I ignore her, and she walks back to her seat, confident she won this round.

  CHAPTER 15

  Callie stares at her lunch tray. Frances has been twirling the same lock of hair since we sat down and hasn’t touched her food, either.

  “So,” I say, stabbing my grilled chicken with the fork, “I’ve been doing some snooping about the note in my locker and the phone calls.”

  Callie leans in, and Frances stops twirling her hair. “Without telling us?” she asks. “Abbie, we’re best friends. You can�
�t go all vigilante on us.”

  “Yeah,” Callie says. “We used to tell each other everything.”

  “Don’t keep us in suspense,” Frances says. “I’m dying over here.”

  I blow out a puff of air from my cheeks. “I asked Lance to get me surveillance tapes so I could see who put the note in my locker. We got nothing. It makes it look as if I made up the whole thing.”

  “I don’t get it,” Frances says. “How is it possible to get into your locker without being caught on camera?”

  “That’s the confusing part.”

  “What did Lance say?” Callie asks.

  I explain to the girls the only scenario under which someone could avoid the cameras, just the way Lance explained it to me. They would have to turn off the cameras and turn them back on again after leaving the note.

  “That’s even worse,” Frances blurts out.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “If someone can do that to you, we’re all in trouble.”

  “It must be an inside job then,” Callie says.

  “Which brings us back to Sidney,” Frances says. “She’s the kind of girl who could convince,” she says, using air quotes, “some poor guy in the security office to do something like that.”

  While I agree with the girls, something jabs at me. The more I think about it, the scarier it feels. It’s what Sidney said at the party: If I wanted to say something to you, I wouldn’t text you. I would tell you right to your stupid face.

  Sidney’s right. She has always been vocal in her contempt for me and makes certain I know how she feels every opportunity she gets. As if I could ever forget. The Avenger is mean-spirited and relentless but thrives on secrecy. She gets off on the power the mystery affords her. That doesn’t sound like Sidney. The realization I could be wrong hits home. I reach for the bottled water on my lunch tray and chug it down.

  “What just happened?” Frances asks.

  I explain my theory.

  “Sidney likes playing games,” Callie says. “Remember last year when she tapped Madison Wilder to be part of her clique and made her do all that crazy, embarrassing stuff to prove her loyalty? Stuff that could have gotten Madison expelled if she was ever caught?”

  Madison was so desperate to fit in with Sidney’s group that she would have shot her own mother if Sidney asked her to. Sidney went so far as to pretend to be a hot senior guy (stock photo) from Blake Hall School, who was interested in Madison, and convinced her to send him naked pictures of herself. What did Sidney do? She sent the pictures to all her friends, and soon, those photos of Madison popped up on the smartphone screens of half the school. Madison couldn’t live down the shame and transferred out of Saint Matthews soon after.

  “You may be right Callie,” I say. “Sidney has never met an evil scheme she didn’t like.”

  “What if The Avenger is two people instead of one,” Frances says, twirling her hair again.

  Callie and I look at each other, then say in unison, “what?”

  Frances leans in. “Think about it. Sidney could have an accomplice, and I’m not talking about Brooke or Jessica. It could be somebody we don’t know. Somebody, she could feed information about you, Abbie.”

  I feel a headache coming on, fast and frantic. It would explain how The Avenger knows where my locker is located, my home address, and my cell phone number. If Sidney manipulated someone at the security office so the note could be planted in my locker, it would be easy enough to go through the school’s computer and pull up my information. Would the school tell us if there was a breach, or is Sidney’s blackmail accomplice a computer genius? And what about her latest text? Does Christian know you’re a drug addict? Someone should warn him. It was similar to what she said to me at Evan’s party, if Christian knew I was a full-on psycho, and someone should warn him. If it looks like Sidney and sounds like Sidney…

  “The stalking won’t stop anytime soon,” I say. “It will get worse before it gets better.”

  “Stop scaring us, Abbie,” Callie whispers.

  I shore up the courage to tell them why this is happening to me, and how it could have consequences for them.

  “I cheated. A long time ago, and this girl, whoever she is, found out.”

  Callie stares off in the direction of the cafeteria exit. Frances resumes twirling the same lock of hair, that’s now a knotted mess. My breath hitches. I tell them how I was almost thrown out of Saint Matthews. How I took Adderall so I could study for long hours without getting tired to get back on track.

  “That’s what the note in the locker was about. She has a photograph of me. Using. And a list of all the students at this school who bought and used over the past two years.”

  Frances stops her hair twirling. Callie grabs on to my arm. My skin tingles with embarrassment. I want to run away from the table, anything not to have to endure the humiliation of my friends finding out that I’m a cheater.

  Frances backs her chair away from the table, and so does Callie. They both stand up.

  “Where-Where are you going?” I stammer.

  They each step away from the chairs. Are they leaving? My thoughts are fuzzy, and I can’t think straight. Maybe I deserve this after I kept it from them for so long.

  I’m dragged out of my misery when I feel a pair of soothing arms around my neck. Callie. I struggle to remain composed, and it’s a losing battle. Frances sits next to me and strokes my forearm.

  “You’re planning to hack Sidney’s email account, aren’t you?” Callie surmises.

  “Yep. You can bet your trust fund on it,” I say.

  “When?” Callie asks.

  “How soon can you convince Brooke to give up Sidney’s email address?”

  “Would tonight be fast enough?”

  “Can’t do it tonight. Christian is coming over for dinner,” I remind her.

  “Right. Tomorrow after school then.”

  “I have that newspaper internship interview,” Frances interjects.

  “We can give you the details afterward,” Callie says.

  “Why so glum?” Trevor, who just pulled up a seat across from us, startles us. He has a different lunch period than we do.

  I rub my nose a couple of times, and Callie goes back to her seat. So does Frances.

  He tilts his head to the side. “You guys okay? It looked seriously intense when I walked in.”

  “It’s nothing,” Frances says, cozying up to her man. She drops a kiss on his lips and reassures him. “Abbie was just having a moment.”

  “About what?”

  “It’s Abbie. Take a guess.”

  “Ah, I get it. Application deadlines. Don’t sweat it, Abbie; you’ll do fine.”

  “See, even Trevor knows,” Frances says. “Lighten up, Abbie. It’s going to be okay.”

  I catch her hidden meaning. “Thanks for calming me down.” I turn my attention to Trevor. “What are you doing here? I thought you had the lunch period after ours.”

  “Skipped out of French class early today on account of my ‘upset stomach.’ What’s the use? I’ll never be conversational, let alone fluent in French. And there’s no way my dad is going to pay for my Paris trip, so forget it.”

  Frances kisses him on the cheek. “It’s okay, Trev. We don’t have to go.”

  “Hold on a minute,” I say, making the timeout sign with my hands. “What’s this I’m hearing?”

  “Trevor and I were going to Paris for spring break,” Frances says. She has a big old grin on her face as she looks up at him, adoration in her eyes. “I was going to pick out my gown for the Platinum Ball while we were over there. I didn’t want to say anything until the plans were finalized.”

  “But the parents have been stingy lately,” Trevor says with a scowl. “Dad said he would only pay for the trip if I aced French class this term. I’m sick of listening to his lectures about responsibility and how I have to start earning my way. He never cared before. I mean, what’s the big deal all of a sudden?”

 
; I’ve never seen Trevor get this worked up about anything. It’s obvious the Paris trip meant a lot to him, and he hated to disappoint Frances. She won’t care. All three of us will end up shopping together for our gowns anyway. The ball is the social event of the year, and the planning committee, headed by Sidney (eew) goes all out.

  Trevor stands up to leave. “Hey, Abbie, take it easy on my bro this evening, will you?”

  I throw him my most sincere smile. “Are you implying that I’m difficult?”

  Callie and Frances look away. Frances starts to whistle a tune, and Callie drums her fingers on the table. I know they think I’m difficult at times.

  “I’m just saying this is a big deal for him, and he doesn’t want to screw it up,” Trevor says. “He’s been studying up on Mr. Cooper’s business exploits so they can have things to talk about.”

  I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Get out of here.”

  “I will.”

  Before he leaves, he plants another kiss on Frances.

  “Gross,” I say, mocking them.

  “Get a room,” Callie says, joining in the fun.

  “I’m going to have to bleach my eyeballs,” I say, as they continue to ignore us.

  Callie hits Trevor in the back of the head with a piece of bread from her lunch tray. That gets his attention.

  “All right, I’m leaving. Oh, I almost forgot: You may not have to worry about Sidney anymore, Abbie.”

  The girls and I look at each other. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s moved on to a new victim, er, I mean, new boyfriend, so you don’t have to worry she’ll get in your face about Christian anymore. Well, see you later.”

  “Trevor Forrester, get back here right now and explain yourself,” Frances says.

  He backs up and takes a seat again.

  “You never told me about this.”

  “Just found out in French class. Jeff Lazenby’s sister, Courtney, overheard Sidney on the phone. She’s been getting flowers and gifts. She even has a new phone just to talk to the new boyfriend. I don’t think he goes to Saint Matthews. Well, gotta run.”

  After Trevor disappears, all three of us say in unison what we’ve been thinking, as if the circuits in our brains are somehow linked. “Totally suspicious.”