After Me

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After Me Page 12

by Joyce Scarbrough


  I was about to go help her when the guy said something that made her rear back with her free hand and hit him square in the mouth. He barely even flinched, but he let go of her arm before saying something else with a hateful laugh. Caitlin held her hand in obvious pain and said something back to him before running away in tears. Nobody in the group followed her.

  I turned back to Annalee and said, “Here’s my chance to see if she’ll talk to me. Tell the guys I’ll see ‘em at lunch.”

  Caitlin had fled to a green Volkswagen Beetle parked a few rows away from Matt’s truck, and she was sitting in it with her face hidden in her arms against the steering wheel. The passenger door was unlocked, and she looked up at me in surprise when I got in.

  “Who are you, and why are you in my car?”

  “My name’s Gwen. It looked like you could use a friend.”

  Recognition registered on her face. “Aren’t you the girl Matt said used to be a hooker?”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Do you always believe everything Matt and his friends say?”

  She wiped her eyes angrily. “No. I’ll never believe anything that comes out of their lying mouths again.”

  “See, we’re on the same team.” I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Wanna tell me what they did to you?”

  She shrugged off my hand. “Why do you care?”

  I stared out the windshield and forced myself to remember how pathetically helpless I’d felt when I’d been at BOSSMAN’s mercy, then I channeled all that anger into my answer. It was still basically a lie, but this way it had a ring of truth to it.

  “Because I know what it’s like to be taken advantage of and forced to do things against your will. Matt was right about me living on the street, but the things I did weren’t my choice.” I turned to look at her and really meant what I said next. “Nobody deserves to be used like that. And anybody who does it sure the hell shouldn’t get away with it. If you tell me what happened to you, I can help you make the assholes pay.”

  She stared at me a few seconds without saying anything, then her eyes filled with tears again. “Nobody will believe me. Or back me up.”

  “I’ll believe you,” I said. “And since I wasn’t talking about going to the cops, you don’t need anybody to back you up. In fact, nobody needs to know you said anything at all. I can make them pay in private.” I gave her a wicked smile. “Unless you want to be there to watch.”

  “What can you do to them?”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I’ve got some special skills I had to learn in order to survive. A ‘very particular set of skills’ to quote Liam Neeson.”

  She still looked confused. “You mean like karate?”

  A light bulb went on in my devious little head. “Yeah, kinda. It’s something I learned from an Asian kid I met on the streets—a mixture of karate and a few other martial arts. It’s called zomjitsu.”

  She seemed to think about it a moment, then she said, “I didn’t want to go to Scott’s stupid party in the first place…”

  * * *

  I thought I was gonna die all over again waiting for lunchtime when I could tell Annalee what I’d found out. Even though it meant I’d have to wait until sixth period to see Lew, I snagged Annalee in the cafeteria foyer and pulled her behind the library so we could talk in private.

  “I take it from the way your eyes are blazing that you got Caitlin to talk,” she said as she took out the turkey sandwich I’d made her that morning for lunch. “What’d she say?”

  I told her everything. The previous weekend, Caitlin’s best friend Kinslee had talked her into going to a kegger that Scott Murphree—the guy she’d dumped the milk on—threw at his house while his parents were on a cruise. Kinslee said Scott had invited them personally, and since freshmen didn’t usually get invited to his parties, not going would have been social suicide.

  Caitlin said she’d felt uncomfortable as soon as they arrived, mainly because there were about twice as many guys than there were girls, and all the guys were football players. She’d also noticed that all the other girls were either freshman or JV cheerleaders. As soon as they walked in the door, Scott had shoved two big glasses of beer in their hands and announced that anybody caught with a full glass had to take off an article of clothing.

  Kinslee didn’t seem to mind any of it and told Caitlin to stop being such a baby when she said she wanted to leave. Caitlin said she’d never had beer before and didn’t like the taste. She tried to sip it instead of chugging like all the other girls, but she started feeling weird before half the glass was gone. All the guys kept telling her to drink the rest of her beer and get another one or she’d have to take something off.

  Then she noticed that the other girls were disappearing with two or three guys at a time, and she really started to freak out. When Scott came over and ordered her to “drink your fucking beer, bitch,” she threw it in his face and tried to run for the door, but Scott and several other guys caught her and held her down while they poured beer in her mouth and made her swallow it. The next thing she remembered was puking her guts out in her front yard just before dawn.

  Annalee had stopped eating a few sentences into the story. Now she wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and put it back in the bag. “How did she get home?”

  “She vaguely remembers somebody putting her in the back seat of a car, but she can’t remember anything about him except that he said he was taking her home and kept saying he was sorry.”

  “Did they… rape her?”

  “She doesn’t know,” I said, “but she feels pretty sure they made her do some things she wouldn’t normally do.”

  “Did she tell her parents?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, she said she was too ashamed for going in the first place. And when she talked to Kinslee about it the next day, Miss BFF claimed that Caitlin got way drunker than everybody else and made a fool of herself by stripping and begging Scott to sleep with her. She also warned Caitlin that the other girls at the party would say the same thing if she tried to cause trouble for Scott or any of the other guys.”

  Annalee frowned. “Why would they cover for them?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions.” I picked up a rock and threw it against the side of the building, leaving a chink in the brick. “Caitlin told me one of the varsity cheerleaders named Fallon said something this morning about how freshmen have to pay their dues like everybody else.”

  “What did Scott say that made her hit him?”

  “He told her she left the party before she was done paying, so she could get on her knees and finish whenever she was ready.”

  Annalee was starting to look ill. “God, why does she still have anything to do with them?”

  “Oh, you know,” I said, “it’s that whole stupidity thing that makes her care more about being popular than what they did to her.”

  “Makes it kinda hard to feel sorry for her,” she said.

  I sighed. “I’m sure I would’ve agreed with you when my name was Jada, but my opinion of what stupid girls deserve has changed since I became one of them. Caitlin might be dumb and shallow, but she didn’t deserve to be drugged and used by a bunch of jocks who think rules don’t apply to them just because they run up and down a football field.”

  “You think they put a roofie in her beer?”

  “Yeah, they probably drugged all the girls there, which is why none of them know what really happened to anybody, including themselves. And since they’re just as stupid as Caitlin, they’ll say whatever Scott and the other jocks tell them to say because they don’t want to make waves. Actually, from what that Fallon girl said, it sounds like it might even be some kind of initiation all the cheerleaders have to go through.”

  “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Annalee turned and heaved a couple of times, but nothing came up.

  Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be Zombie Girl’s sidekick after all.

  I patted her on the back. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this
anymore if it’s bothering you this much.”

  She shook her head and took a couple of deep breaths. When she looked at me again, her eyes had a determined glint to them. “No, I’m okay. Sorry for being such a wimp. I want to hear what you’re gonna do to Scott and his disgusting friends.”

  I smiled. “Caitlin doesn’t remember much about the night of the party, but she remembered enough to give me directions to Scott’s house.” I picked up another rock and crushed it in my fist. “I’m gonna pay him a visit tonight and see if he wants to party with me.”

  “Awesome,” Annalee said. “But maybe you should check with your advisor first to see if it’s okay. I mean, what’ll happen if you break a rule or something? Will you get sent somewhere else?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll check with Flo when I get home just to be sure. Don’t worry, okay?”

  She nodded. “What are you gonna do to him?”

  I told her the brainstorm I’d had about pretending to know martial arts. “All I have to do is give him a chop here and a kick there like I know what I’m doing. He’ll think it’s the power of the Force or feng shui or whatever it is those karate guys use that’s helping me kick his ass. And you can bet I’ll make sure he knows why I’m doing it too, even though I promised Caitlin I’d keep her name out of it.”

  “Good idea,” she said, “but I wish you could keep yours out of it too. You know, like wear a disguise or something so he can’t identify you and get you in trouble.”

  “Maybe I can,” I said. “Do you know where I can find a thrift store around here?”

  “Are you kidding?” She gave me a wry look. “I’ve got a frequent shopper card from the Goodwill store around the corner from my house.”

  “Great. We can go there after school and find an outfit for Zombie Girl.”

  * * *

  My preoccupation with Caitlin’s problem for most of the day made me almost forget how much I wanted to see Lew, but when he greeted me with that smile of his as I walked into chemistry class sixth period, it all came back to me in a smoking hot rush.

  “We missed you at lunch,” he said as I sat beside him. “You and Annalee hitting the library again?”

  He missed me! Well, he said we, but that meant him too, didn’t it?

  “Nah, we were just talking.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Just girl talk,” I said. “You know, which lip gloss is the best, how to keep your nail polish from chipping, who’s our latest crush.”

  He gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. “So who are the lucky guys?”

  Just you for both of us, Mr. Clueless. Wait, he did say lucky. But did he mean me or Annalee? God, I was so pathetic. If I hadn’t already been dead, I would’ve been tempted to scream Kill me now!

  “Justin Bieber and Morgan Freeman,” I said instead. “I’ll let you guess who likes whom.”

  He laughed. “Give it up. I know you got it bad for the Biebs.”

  “Busted,” I said. “Hey, we’re still on for tomorrow, right? My mouth’s been watering for one of those Cuban sandwiches ever since you told me about them.” Yeah, I couldn’t wait to bite into all that cardboard deliciousness.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll meet you and Annalee at the library. How many of the books did you finish?”

  “All of them,” I said without thinking. When he gave me a doubtful look I said, “Okay, only half.”

  “Which ones?”

  I named off the first five that came to mind and ended with The Great Gatsby. “Thanks for the tips. They were all pretty good, especially Gatsby.”

  Mr. Forrester called the class to attention just then, so Lew leaned over and whispered, “We can talk about it tomorrow night.”

  I nodded then spent the rest of the class hoping that Annalee would get sick and couldn’t go with us. Nothing serious—just a mild stomach virus or something that would keep her home and let me have Lew all to myself for the night.

  Guess I wouldn’t be getting that friendship badge anytime soon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As soon as I got home, I e-mailed Flo to make sure it was okay to put Scott on my list of predators. While I was waiting to hear back from her, I created a new FaceSpace account so I could message Scott and set up our meeting. Within minutes of sending him the request to hook up with Hotgirl Jones—an admirer from Coral Gables High who just loved the way he looked in his football pants—Scott replied and invited me over. And since his parents were still out of town, he said we’d have the house all to ourselves. Woohoo!

  It was after eleven before I got an answer from Flo, but the news was good.

  FROM: [email protected]

  TO: [email protected]

  SUBJECT: RE: Late Night Fun

  Dear Miss Gayle:

  Your request to punish the young man you described has been approved as a codicil to your termination agreement. However, while you may inflict injuries on him or others like him, you must stop short of taking their lives if they have taken none themselves. One more caveat: be careful to protect your anonymity so as not to jeopardize your mission.

  Additionally, our Network Administrator has instructed me to inform you that your new e-mail address is still not acceptable.

  Regards,

  Florence

  I logged off and quickly dressed in the clothes Annalee and I had gotten from the Goodwill that afternoon. No ski masks to be found in Miami, but we did find a red and black Mardi Gras mask with an elastic band. Even better, we’d found a black T-shirt emblazoned with a big red Z. I knew Zorro might sue if he found out that Zombie Girl had stolen his logo, but I decided to risk it. Black leggings completed the ensemble since I decided to go barefoot for comfort and fleetness of foot.

  When I checked my reflection in the mirror after I was suited up, I got another idea. Using my FaceSpace profile picture as a model, I smudged some mascara around my eyes, then I used lipstick to add some “blood” dripping from my mouth. A little more red and black streaked through my hair and nobody should recognize Gwen even if the mask happened to come off. As a finishing touch, I applied some glittery black polish to my nails and toes. I might be dead, but I was still a girl. And totally fabulous.

  I was about to slip out of the room and tiptoe through the house when I realized I didn’t need to use the front door. Since I didn’t have to worry about broken bones or sprains, I could jump from the window even though I was on the second floor. I dropped the fifteen or so feet to the ground without so much as a twinge of pain. I’d need a way to get back in when I came home, so I looked around and decided the banyan tree on the side of the house looked like my best bet.

  I cut across the back yard and easily scaled the privacy fence. Super strength apparently improved my agility, a good thing since I’d need it to climb the tree when I came back.

  Scott’s house was three blocks over in a more upscale part of the Grove. I probably could’ve made it there in just a few minutes if I cut through some yards, but I didn’t want to risk setting off any security alarms. Fortunately, the streets were enclosed in a canopy of trees that offered plenty of shadows for cover in case any night owls were out walking Fido.

  Scott’s Spanish villa style house turned out to be quite the showpiece. Not exactly a mansion like the ones that bordered Biscayne Bay, but a lot ritzier than Karen and Brad’s house. I dashed across the brick courtyard that led to the keyhole doorway and saw a note taped to the front door. In handwriting that would’ve earned a smiley face sticker for a first grader, Scott had left me instructions to take the side portico to the pool area in the back.

  When I went through the gate leading to the deck, I saw him lounging on a chaise by the pool wearing only a pair of red gym shorts, a wooden tub on the ground beside him filled with ice and beer, and music blasting from somewhere nearby. Good, that would make it less likely for the neighbors to hear Scott’s cries for help.

  He had his eyes closed, so he didn’t know I’d come through
the gate. I walked over and took one of the beer bottles from the tub, then I twisted off the cap and tilted the bottle slowly until the beer splashed onto Scott’s muscular chest.

  “Shit!” He jumped up, nearly knocking the chair into the pool.

  “Hope you didn’t bother to put anything in the beer this time.” I tossed the empty bottle into the water. “I won’t be drinking any, but it wouldn’t do you any good if I did.”

  “What the—who the hell are you?” Confusion battled with anger for control of his face.

  “I know it sounds incredibly cliché,” I said, “but I’m your worst nightmare, Scott. I’m here to teach you a lesson about taking advantage of stupid girls.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “And I don’t take lessons from nobody, especially some psycho chick who thinks she’s freaking Catwoman.”

  “What’s the matter, Scott? No fun hooking up with a girl who’s not drugged and at your mercy?” I grabbed the chaise and threw it aside so there was nothing between us. “Don’t you wanna party with me?”

  He laughed unpleasantly and looked me up and down. “Guess I could shut my eyes.”

  I beckoned him with my fingers. “Come get some, asshole.”

  He was in front of me in three steps and tried to grab my arms, but I met him with a punch to the throat that sent him reeling backward, coughing and gasping. He managed to stay on his feet, but I didn’t give him a chance to attack again. In an awesome imitation of all the roundhouse kicks I’d seen in action flicks, my foot connected with his hip and knocked him completely off the deck onto the lawn where he lay sprawled on his back.

  Before he could recover, I dropped to the ground on top of him. With his arms pinned under my knees, I gripped his throat with one hand and held the other over his face in a claw like Mr. Miyagi in The Karate Kid.

 

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