Game of Fear

by Kabongo, Glede Browne

  Dr. Kellogg does the introductions in his now crowded office, which includes my parents, my guidance counselor, and the Dean of Academic Affairs. “Sorry to call you in on such short notice under these circumstances,” he says to my parents. “We didn’t want to waste any time tackling the issue.”

  “Let’s hear it then,” my dad says to him.

  He launches into the same speech he gave me about how serious the accusations are, the repercussions if they’re true, and the school’s zero tolerance policy. The rest of the administrators in the room just nod in agreement.

  “Dr. Kellogg, can you explain to my wife and I how you plan to go about validating these claims?” Dad asks. “Seems to me you’re putting too much stock in baseless allegations from an unidentified source instead of looking at Abbie’s record here at Saint Matthews. She has been a model student in every way.”

  The Headmaster removes his glasses and places them on his desk. “You’re right, Mr. Cooper. Abbie has been an exemplary student, which is why this is so shocking. The girl in the photo bears an uncanny resemblance to her and the kind of behavior the young lady is engaged in….”

  “We’d like to see the picture,” Mom says.

  Dr. Kellogg puts on his glasses, shuffles some papers, picks out the photo, and then hands it to Mom. She’s stone-faced as she passes it to dad. His expression mirrors hers. They’re thinking the same thing. It looks like me.

  Dad swallows several times. Mom maintains her granite-hard stare.

  “You can see why we’re concerned, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper,” Ms. Weeks says.

  “What I see is an image representative of the digital age in which we live,” Mom says. “Anyone with a rudimentary understanding of Photoshop or similar programs can create an illusion that can fool even the experts.”

  “Is it possible that this complaint against Abbie is just a smokescreen?” my dad asks.

  “What are saying Mr. Cooper?” Ms. Morris asks, leaning forward in her chair.

  “Allegations of drug use were made against my daughter. Each of us sitting here knows it’s a ridiculous notion. If they’re accusing her, I wonder what’s going on at this school that they don’t want you to know.”

  Ms. Morris fiddles with the pen in her hand, and I can hear Ms. Weeks grinding her teeth. Dr. Kellogg makes a show of clearing his throat and shuffling papers on his desk.

  “Because of your record here and the circumstances surrounding these allegations, we’ll let you off with a warning this time,” he says looking at me. “But this has to be included as part of your permanent record.”

  “That’s not happening,” my dad says. “It’s unwarranted and unfair. I don’t see any reason for it.”

  “Mr. Cooper,” Dr. Kellogg says, as if my dad is a toddler trying his patience, “we have rules here. Abbie is not above the rules.”

  “No argument from me on that point. However, adding this to her record implies wrongdoing on her part. There’s no concrete proof of that. If we were in the court of law, this case would be tossed out in minutes.”

  I was right. Dad went nuclear on him. No one in the room misses the subtle threat behind his words.

  “We all want what’s best for Abbie,” Dr. Kellogg says.

  “Great.” Dad stands up, shakes Dr. Kellogg’s hand, thanks him for his time and cooperation, and then leaves the office with Mom on his heels.

  Dahlia meets up with me at the end of my Spanish class. I stay seated. She enters as everyone leaves, and then takes the seat next to me.

  “So, can you help me?”

  “Hold up. Before I say anything, we need to come to an agreement.”

  “About what?” My patience is hanging on by a thread. It has to be tonight. The Avenger said I had three days before she calls with her next blackmail scheme, and I need to get ahead of her.

  “So, what’s in it for me?”

  “I don’t know, taking down Sidney. Being my hero.”

  “Yeah, yeah. That’s all good, but I’m sticking my neck out for you, again. I need something valuable in exchange.”

  “Dahlia, you haven’t said anything to me, and as far as I can tell, your neck is still firmly on your body. I don’t see any stretching here.”

  “Alright, Abbie. Listen up. I need a favor too. You help me; I help you.”

  I should know that’s the way the world works, quid pro quo. “Okay, Dahlia, what do you want in exchange for helping me?”

  “You and Callie are tight, right?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “So, Nicholas Furi is the biggest movie director in the world with his own production company. If he wants a movie made, it gets made.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “You don’t think I would walk away from SMA without getting the hookup, did you?”

  “So, you want Callie’s phone and email?”

  “You know for a smart girl, you’re dumb.”

  “I didn’t come here to get insulted, Dahlia. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Look, I’m going pre-law once I get accepted into Georgetown. And at some point during college, I’m going to need a good internship that can help me get into a top law school—like an internship in the legal department at Pacific Pictures.

  “If that doesn’t work, I’m flexible. Callie’s father can use his contacts at the movie studios to get me in. I’m not picky: Paramount, Warner Bros., Twentieth Century Fox, DreamWorks, whichever. Any one of them would be just fine with me. As long as I can add that to my resume and impress law school admissions at Harvard and Columbia.”

  I can’t blame her for her ambition. I just wish I knew in advance that there would be a hurdle to getting her help.

  “All I can do is talk to Callie. I can’t guarantee her dad is going to remember their conversation two or three years from now.”

  “That’s where having Callie’s contact info comes in handy. See, you’re not stupid after all.”

  I glare at her, and she has the nerve to smile back at me. “Can you get me access to Sidney’s diary?”

  “Ask me a hard question.”

  “I’m going to hurt you if you don’t stop it.”

  “Sorry. I’ll give you a break. I know you’re nursing a broken heart since you and Christian ended your relationship. Yes, I know where she keeps it.”

  “Where?”

  “In her sock drawer.”

  “Really? That’s so cliché.”

  “It’s Sidney. She’s vindictive, not imaginative.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask.

  “Why are you asking me? This is your show.”

  “I don’t know the rules of residence life that well. You’re the Resident Assistant. I thought you would have this part of the plan figured out.”

  “Okay, you got me.”

  “Invite me over. I’ll hang out in your room, and while everyone is at dinner, open her room and let me in. You’ll have to be the lookout, though.”

  She rakes her hand through her hair. “It’s not that complicated, Dahlia. You let me in, I grab the diary, and I’m out.”

  “How are you going to put it back?”

  “Haven’t thought that far yet.”

  “You should.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I scratch my head. “I have a better idea. I can take snapshots of the diary entries that interest me.”

  “That could work,” she concurs. “Taking the whole diary will create too much drama, mostly with getting caught trying to return it.”

  “Exactly. Are there cameras in the hallway?”

  “No, just the main lobby area.”

  “Good. So, we have a plan?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she asks, shrugging.

  “Nope. It has to be tonight, though.”

  “What? You never said that before, Abbie. Tonight is too soon.”

  “Why not tonight?” I ask.

  “Why tonight?” she counters.

  “I want to bring this nightmare to an end.
I’m exhausted.”

  “Did something else happen?”

  “It’s Sidney. There’s always something. I promise this is the last time I’ll ask you to get involved in my problems.”

  “You promise? This is it?”

  “Promise.”

  Part Seven

  DIARY OF A MEAN GIRL

  CHAPTER 33

  There was no high-octane drama like in the heist movies when I took photos of Sidney’s diary entries. I visited Dahlia just like we planned, and while everyone was at dinner, she unlocked Sidney’s dorm room, and I walked in. The diary was exactly where Dahlia said it would be.

  It’s after eleven o’clock at night. In two days, I’ll get the call. I sit on my bed, my stomach in knots. What if I don’t like what I read? What if I don’t find anything I could actually use to shut down Sidney and catch The Avenger? These are the questions I didn’t ask myself when I decided this was a good idea. It’s too late now.

  I click the camera icon on the phone and tap the image that begins the series of photos. I scroll through to the beginning, give myself an anti-wimp pep talk, and dive in. Within seconds, my pep talk starts to unravel.

  September 13th

  Jessica told me he was hanging around her locker, staring at her like a lost puppy. So disgusting. No way I’m letting that overachieving ice queen of a nobody get close to Christian. He’s just crazy enough to invite her to Bedford Hills to piss me off. If anyone is getting an invitation, it’s going to be me. Besides, what would people in our social circle think if she showed up? Anyway, she would never go out with him. I see the evil glares she gives him at general assembly and during lunch in the dining hall. Definitely not interested. But just in case she thinks that she actually has a chance with him, I’ll have to shut her down and put her in her place. Looking forward to it!

  No surprises there. This happened at the beginning of the school year. Sidney is never shy about expressing her feelings. Round two.

  October 24th

  She showed up with her crew at Evan Mueller’s Party, and that wasn’t the worst. She and Christian were all over each other. Barf. But the best part was when she went postal and shoved a text message in my face, which I barely read. I didn’t need to. I was laughing my butt off, though. The ice queen was thawing right before my eyes. Good times.

  More ranting about Christian chasing me, her attempts to insult me into submission, and what a miserable failure that strategy was. Based on the number of skipped dates, she’s doesn’t journal regularly.

  November 13th

  I hate her. I wish she would stop calling and emailing me. My shrink says my anger is justified. Duh. Do I need her to tell me stuff I already know? Patty just sucks! She’s not my mother, and doesn’t deserve to be called a mother. She’s faking like she doesn’t know why I don’t want to talk to her. She knows what he did to me, and she’s told me to keep quiet because it would cause a massive scandal and destroy “a lot of lives.” “Think of the greater good, Sidney,” she tells me. Whatever. What about my greater good? She doesn’t care about me. All she cares about is my dad becoming president and the idea that the creep who raped me can make it happen. She wants to be First Lady so bad that she’s willing to throw me under the bus. Barf.

  Every time I see him on TV or at some event with his ugly wife and dumb ass kids, pretending to be the All American Family, I want to scream. I want to tell the world he’s a rapist, a lying pig, a hypocrite, and the worst kind of human being ever. He said if I told, no one would believe me because I was a little slut. I had a plan for how I was going to take him down. Alan Wheeler. He’s the only one I know powerful enough to give that psycho what’s coming to him. Christian was my ticket until Abbie Cooper came on the scene and ruined everything. She’ll pay for her meddling. I’ll make her regret the day she crossed me.

  I can’t breathe. A five thousand pound elephant just sat on my chest. I put the phone down and place my hands on top of my head. Poor Sidney. Tormented by the assault and then betrayed by her own mother. She sees me as an enemy, an enemy to the justice she deserves. I can’t count the many ways this is messed up. I still don’t understand how blackmailing me for money is supposed to help her, unless she’s refusing all financial assistance from her parents or family members.

  I should stop reading, but I can’t. I continue.

  November 27th

  I decided not to go home for Thanksgiving. I won’t be able to stand either one of them acting like they’re so happy I’m home, and we’re the perfect, happy family. Taylor is so lucky she doesn’t have to deal with this crap. Moving to Japan to teach English was the best move. As soon as I graduate, I’m moving overseas for a gap year. I don’t know where yet. I might even decide to attend college abroad. I’m applying to a couple just to keep my options open. It’s quiet here today. Almost everybody is gone. Only the international students and messed up people like me stayed behind. They’ll have a big dinner in the dining hall for us.

  Sometimes I wonder if my parents would miss me if I go overseas or just called it quits altogether. They’ll probably sigh with relief, especially Patty. What would be the best way to do it, though? Jumping from the bell tower at Saint Matthews might work, but I want to look fabulous on the way out, and turning into cottage cheese from the impact is not a hot look. Driving my car into traffic? I think pills would be the best way. I could tell my shrink I can’t sleep and get her to prescribe sleeping pills. That way I can control everything, what I wear, how my hair looks, the position in which I’m found. It would be epic.

  She wouldn’t do it, would she? Her psychiatrist is supposed to be helping her. This doesn’t sound like someone who’s getting the help she needs. Now I’m involved. What did I get myself into? I don’t think she would do it. Life is one big, endless drama to Sidney, so it’s hard to know if she’s serious about this. I’m not sure what I should do. She’s in a lot of pain as far as I can tell. But it’s getting late, and I can’t figure this out just yet. I want to finish reading, though.

  December 11th

  My dad called today. He’s pushing me to the breaking point. Seriously, I wish he would just go away and never come back. He’s all freaked out about me applying to Harvard, which would be a total waste of my time. He keeps talking about his buddy who’s on the Board of Trustees putting in a good word on my behalf. Whatever. I’m not applying. First off, the regular deadline is less than a month away. Secondly, I had to take drastic measures to get the grades I have now. He would go batshit crazy if he ever found out. You know, he has to protect his reputation and all that. Parents are so dumb, and so is the administration here. They never see what’s going on right under their noses. You can get anything you want at this school. Name it, and for a price, it’s yours. That always cracks me up whenever I pass the headmaster’s office. Clueless. We all made a pact never to reveal the identity of our supplier. Kellogg would crap his pants if he knew who it was.

  CHAPTER 34

  The sound of tires screeching startles me. I look up and see a gray sedan has stopped just inches from me. I stare into the face of the horrified driver. It takes me another split second to comprehend that I was so caught up in disturbing thoughts, I was almost killed by oncoming traffic. The adrenaline kicks in. I run all the way from the street to the main building. I collapse at my locker, struggling to catch my breath, trying not to think about the fact that I could have been gone in an instant.

  I didn’t sleep a wink last night. After I read Sidney’s diary entries, I discontinued spying on her computer. She’s talking about ending it all, and I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m now seriously beginning to question my original assumption that she’s The Avenger or, at the very least, an accomplice. Sidney only offers a vague hint that she may be the one behind the blackmail (I’ll make her pay for her meddling), but she stops just shy of a full confession. Why the hesitation? It’s not as if she’s expecting anyone to read her private thoughts. She confessed that she was rap
ed, which is as gut-wrenching and heartbreaking as it gets. So why not admit that she’s been stalking me and making threats too?

  I pick myself off the floor and start exchanging textbooks. Unfortunately, I have to face Sidney this morning, but I can’t allow my feelings to get in the way. I must do two things today: First, leave a note about Sidney in the Safe Box at the front of the classroom without being seen; second, I’ll make one last attempt to determine for good if she knows anything. When Trevor pops up next to me, looking like his pet just died, I figure my day is going to suck.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so sorry, Abbie. He didn’t mean it. He’s been depressed since you guys broke up, and I think Sidney took advantage.”

  I steel myself against what’s coming next. I exchange the books in my locker. “Took advantage how?”

  “She threw herself at him. He was too drunk to care.”

  “Just say it.”

  “Christian slept with Sidney. I’m informing you because you’re my friend, and Sidney is going to make sure she tells you in a way that will hurt you. I figured if you knew ahead of time, it might soften the blow.”

  “Christian is an adult. He can do whatever he wants. How do you know this anyway?”

  “Saw her coming out of his room late last night. Sneaking out, actually. I confronted him, and he admitted it.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “That’s it? You know it didn’t mean anything with Sidney. He’s miserable, Abbie. I’m not just saying that because he’s my friend. He doesn’t care about anything. I’m afraid of what he might do to stop hurting about the breakup.”

  “I’m sorry your friend is hurting. Not my problem.”

  “Abbie, it’s not like you to be so cold-hearted.”

  “Trevor, I got my own problems. I can’t take on anyone else’s. I’ll see you in class. I just need another minute.”