“Why not?” I asked, turning in my seat to face him.
“Because they’re dudes, that’s why.”
“Mr. Brown, if you could please raise your hand if you have something to add. Preferably something well thought out and not the first thing that pops into your head.”
Scooter deflated a little at Ms. McManus’ jab.
“Men didn’t have to wear them because that behavior was expected of them. It’s a woman’s responsibility to maintain her virtue,” Eric said, staring at me. The double entendre in his words was so thick I wanted to choke on it. A dolled-up version of “boys will be boys” rationale. How fitting.
“Really?” I countered, not even giving Ms. McManus a chance to respond. “So men aren’t in control of their own actions? They can’t help themselves because their hormones overtake their brains, and therefore they shouldn’t be held responsible?”
He cocked his head at me. “Maybe if Hester Prynne didn’t want to end up wearing that letter, she should have acted differently. If you can’t handle the consequences, don’t do the crime.”
“Wow, that’s enlightened.… So the entire town gets to judge her based on only what they perceive to be true? When they only have partial facts?”
“I think it was pretty obvious she was pregnant, don’t you?”
“And if she’d been raped? If the child had resulted from a crime she had no control over? Should she be punished by the court of public opinion for that?”
Eric leaned back in his chair. “I guess it’s a good thing that wasn’t the case then, huh?”
While my blood boiled inside me, he winked from across the room. It was all I could do to stay in my seat. I wanted to launch myself over those desks and pound his smug, shitty face in. His attempt to get under my skin was wildly successful.
It only fueled my need to prove what happened that night.
“I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” Ms. McManus said, sensing the tension in the room. “Let’s switch gears for a second and discuss Of Mice and Men.…”
I could hear her talking in the background, but I couldn’t make out the words over the pounding of blood in my ears and the blinding rage I felt every time Eric looked over at me and smiled. I had to stare at the window and focus on my breathing, like Tyson had taught me long ago. I couldn’t let my emotions cloud my judgment. That wouldn’t lead to anything but a trip to Principal Thompson’s office and Eric’s enjoyment. He’d had enough at my expense. I didn’t plan to give him any more.
When the bell rang, I hurried out of the room, the grating sound of Scooter’s laughter chasing me. I walked to the nearest bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I needed a chance to breathe, to get over the emotional flashback I was having. Eric Stanton couldn’t have looked less sympathetic if he’d tried to. In fact, he looked calm, cool, and collected. Too collected. Like sociopath collected. For a moment, I wondered if maybe AJ hadn’t been the one to take those pictures of me.
Then I wondered if learning the truth about that night would only make me feel worse.
* * *
As I made my way to my car after school, ready to go visit my dad, I heard Garrett calling me from the far side of the parking lot.
“Ky! Wait up!”
I hovered by my open car door as he ran toward me.
“What’s up?”
“Are you going to be home later?”
“Nope. I have a hot date.” My deadpan response wasn’t lost on him. He grinned like the boy I grew up with. The one that always got me into trouble.
“Can I stop by?”
“Garrett,” I started, feigning a patronizing tone. “Listen. I know you’re totally into me and want me to be your girlfriend, but … I just don’t love you like that. I hope you understand.”
He rolled his eyes as he laughed.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Danners. You know I don’t like blondes.”
“I do know, and I’ve hated myself for years because of that fact.”
He roared with laughter. “Trying to have a serious conversation with you is like herding cats.”
“Highly entertaining and a great workout?”
“I was thinking aggravating and damn near impossible.”
“Huh.”
“Exactly. Anyway, are you going to be there or not?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there. I’m going to go see Dad now, but I’ll be home after that.”
“Cool. Message me when you get back and I’ll head over.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I went to get into my car, then realized that Garrett was still lingering. “Something else you want to talk about?”
“Any problems today?”
“I nearly pummeled Eric Stanton in English, but other than that, nope. No issues.”
“Good.”
Garrett looked tense and his tone held an edge to it. It was clear that something was bothering him. If I hadn’t known him better, I’d have said he was worried. But Garrett Higgins didn’t do worrying.
He did fixing.
He caught my assessing stare and flashed me a smile that said everything was all right. I didn’t buy it for a second, but I played along and mimicked his expression.
“So I’ll see you tonight?” I said.
“Yeah. Tonight. See you then.”
He turned and walked back the way he’d come, headed toward his truck. I watched for a moment, then slipped into my car. I wanted to get to Logan Hill. I needed to talk to my dad so badly it hurt. He’d know how to start picking apart The Six. He’d also understand why I wanted to.
FIFTEEN
The shock of being inside Logan Hill Prison to visit Dad was much less the second time around. I was already getting the hang of things. It didn’t take long before I was in the visiting room, stationed behind the thick pane of glass yet again. When my dad walked in, I pulled the phone off the wall and held it to my ear.
The bruises on his face were turning an awful yellow color as they faded, but there were no new ones, so I saw that as a win. The cast on my father’s arm, however, was not. I stared at it openly, wondering if whoever was after him planned to take him apart piece by piece or if they just kept getting interrupted. I shuddered at both potential scenarios.
Dad’s paperwork clearly hadn’t gone through yet.
He sat down across from me and picked up the phone.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” he offered without me asking. In fairness, I hadn’t taken my eyes off the cast since I saw it. “I fell down the stairs.”
“My ass you did.”
“I thought a trip to the infirmary would keep me out of gen pop for a while.”
“Wait, you did it on purpose?” He shrugged off my incredulous tone. “Well did it work? Tell me you didn’t do it for nothing.”
“I haven’t been back since.”
“That’s a plus,” I mumbled to myself.
“My paperwork should go through before I would be put back into gen pop, so everything is going to be fine, Kylene.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. One bullet dodged for the time being.
Silence fell between us for a moment. I wanted to tell him so much—about Eric Stanton and The Scarlet Letter, about Donovan with his steroids and the mysterious Dr. Carle—but there was something else I needed to talk to him about. Something I knew he wouldn’t take well at all.
“So I got a job working at Meg’s law office,” I said, thinking it might be best to just blurt it out. My dad was a proud man. Knowing he couldn’t provide for me was likely eating him up inside. But I was out of cash from my summer job, and I hated leaning more on Gramps than I already was. He’d understand that.
The resigned look in his eyes told me he did.
“I’m sorry, Ky.”
“It’ll be fine, Dad.” My father stared at me silently, his features slack, his face pale. The stress of everything was getting to him, and it was completely unnerving. All throughout his trial, I’d never seen him falter—never saw his co
nfidence shaken. But seeing him through that thick pane of glass, looking like he was giving up, if only a little, was more than I could handle. “Dad? Dad, listen to me! It’s going to be okay. It’s just a part-time job. No biggie. I promise!”
“You shouldn’t have to work and go to school, Ky. You should be out with your friends, enjoying what’s left of your high school career.” His voice was thin and hollow, and it scared the shit out of me.
“I shouldn’t have to put up with Callahan’s crap or eat that stuff they try to pass off as food at school, either, but I do. We both knew that me going to Jasperville was going to take a huge dump on what was left of my high school years. But sometimes you have to woman up and get it done. You taught me that, Dad. Trust that I can handle this.”
He smiled weakly and shook his head.
“Where did that sweet little towheaded girl I remember disappear to?”
“She was upgraded to a stubborn, sassy pain in the ass who adores you. Can you deal with that?”
His smile widened.
“I guess I have to.”
“Good. Now that that’s settled, let’s move on to something else.”
“Kylene,” my dad said, his eyes serious again. “Tell Meg thank you for me.”
“Of course. I think the job will be great for me. I met one of the other attorneys the other day when I stopped in. He seems pretty cool. I guess he’s the new partner there. Luke Clark.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed.
“He’s a defense attorney?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because he was brought in by a couple of the families back when the boys were questioned.”
My face went slack. “Oh…”
“I guess he didn’t mention that.”
“No, but I don’t think he knew exactly who I am. And really, is he even at liberty to discuss that?”
Dad let out a harsh exhale before leaning back in his seat.
“No. He wouldn’t be.”
“Surely Meg knows this,” I said, trying to work through things in my mind. “Doesn’t the nature of being a defense attorney mean you’re going to have to represent guilty people? Just like prosecutors have to let guilty ones go free sometimes?”
“Yes, but I don’t have to like it.” His angry expression slowly softened. “So what else do you want to talk about? The clock’s ticking.…”
“I don’t know … asshole football players? Sketchy medical doctors? Whatever that meat was at lunch today?”
“Pass on the last option. My detective skills aren’t that good.” He leaned forward to prop his elbows on the counter. “So who is this doctor, and why do you think he’s dirty?” I took a minute to fill Dad in on everything I’d learned, intentionally leaving out the gory details about the locker room and AJ. By the time I finished, I could see his wheels were spinning. “Interesting.”
“I did some research and found that with a controlled substance like that, he shouldn’t have an auto refill with the pharmacy—that he’d need to be seen again to get a new script. But from what I saw, I think he must have an open-ended prescription. His bottle was half empty and it had only been filled a week or so ago.”
“But if he was taking too much, he’d be out way too soon, and the doctor would know this.”
I smiled. “Precisely.”
“That is suspicious.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “When do you think he started taking this steroid?”
“This summer, according to his girlfriend. I can’t remember which pharmacy had filled it, but there’re only two in town. With the right information, I can track down his prescription and find out if he has refills on file. If he does, I’ll have enough to report it—anonymously, of course.”
“Not too shabby, Kylene, but I want you to come to me before you do anything like that. And I want you to lay low. Stay off of Donovan’s radar, okay?”
“Already done. Someone took care of that for me. He shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”
“Who did that? Garrett?”
I swallowed hard. The last person my father wanted to hear about was AJ Miller.
“The who isn’t really important, Dad. Just know it’s been taken care of.”
His gaze hardened, fine lines forming at the corners of his eyes.
“Who, Kylene?”
I exhaled heavily. “AJ. He threatened to throw the season if Donovan didn’t leave me alone.”
My father’s expression was murderous. Thank God he was already in jail. If he hadn’t been, I was pretty certain he’d have done something in that moment that would have landed him there. “Dad, it’s fine. Really. Don’t have an aneurysm about it.”
“That little asshole! How dare he try to act the hero after what he did.”
“Dad. Dad, you’re turning really red. Purple, actually. It’s not good for your heart. You need to calm down.”
“I’m going to strangle that little fu—”
“Dad! Chill out. Please. I think your head is going to explode if you don’t.”
He took a couple of calming breaths before speaking.
“I don’t want you anywhere near that boy, do you understand me?”
“Hey, no objections here. I didn’t ask for his help. He just happened to be around when Donovan was being a dick, and he got him to step down.”
“Well, next time he comes near you, I want you to kick him in the balls, then pull him into a clinch and knee his face until it bleeds. Got it?”
“I don’t think Principal Thompson will be pleased you sanctioned that behavior, but … could you write me a note or something? Maybe that’ll help my case when I wind up in his office.”
“I don’t care if you get suspended. That little bastard has it coming. He deserves that and so much more.”
“Dad,” I said, taking a softer tone. “It was fine. I told him that he could never make up for what he did, and I told him to leave me alone. It’s fine. Really. I’ve got better things to worry about than AJ Miller—like proving how he and his friends got away with doing what they did.”
“Now that I can get on board with.”
I told him about my interactions with all of The Six, and he advised me on where to start. My working for Meg was already going to come in handy.
“She needs to get her hands on the sheriff’s file. She’ll let you look it over, I’m sure of that. Once you go through it, I want you to come see me so we can discuss it, okay?”
“For sure. I’ll call her tonight and let her know.” I looked up at the clock on the wall and realized that I needed to head home. “Dad, I should get going.”
“Of course. See you soon? Once you get a look at that file?”
“Sure. I’ll probably come by Friday night, if I can.”
“No football game for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I think my days cheering for the Fighting Badgers are over, Dad.”
“Understandable. Maybe you, Garrett, and the new girl can find some trouble to get into instead. Trouble that doesn’t involve Donovan or AJ or any of the rest of them, for that matter.”
“Always.”
“Love you, kiddo.”
I smiled tightly at him, unable to reply. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I loved him, because I could feel the tension in my throat growing: I knew my voice would crack. I didn’t want my dad to feel any worse about his situation, so I blew him a kiss and hung up the phone. I looked back at him as I made my way out of the room, and a guard escorted me back through security to the building’s entrance.
I hurried to my car and sat in the parking lot, leaving a message on Meg’s cell about the sheriff’s file on my case. I hoped she’d be up for the off-book investigation. Hopefully bending a few rules to make it happen wasn’t beneath her.
When I hung up, I hesitated for a moment before running a quick search on Donovan. It didn’t take long to find what I needed. Idiots like him put way too much information on social media. Once I had his birth d
ate, I dialed up the first of two town pharmacies and took a deep breath. If my plan didn’t work, I’d be right back to square one again.
“How can I help you today?”
“Yes, I’m calling to see if my son still has a refill on his prescription. The name is Donovan Jason Shipman.”
“Date of birth and medication?” I gave her both without hesitation. “Okay, let me see. It looks like he has three more refills left on this prescription, Mrs. Shipman.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I think he misplaced his meds, and I don’t have time to take him into the pediatrician for a checkup. Thank you so much for your help.”
“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
I hesitated for a second.
“Yes. Could you confirm for me when he last picked up his medication?”
“Looks like that was about two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks. Okay. Great. Thanks again. Have a great day.”
I hung up the phone and immediately did a Google search about controlled substances. Two minutes later, I knew there was a problem. He shouldn’t have had a refill for that medication, and given that pharmacists knew more about drugs and their regulations than any other type of health care practitioner, they would know whether a prescription written by an MD was bogus or dangerous—or illegal. Furthermore, it was their responsibility to report suspicious prescriptions to the state board. And that clearly hadn’t happened.
I filed that detail away for later and started home. With the warm, glowing sun hanging low in the sky, I pulled up to Gramps’ house and found an unfamiliar red pickup truck parked in the street by our mailbox. I drove past it to pull into the single-car driveway. As I got out, a voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Ky. I need to talk to you,” AJ said as he jogged across the front yard toward me.
“Oh, no you don’t.”
I quickened my pace, trying to escape inside before he reached me. I didn’t want to cause a scene for Gramps’ neighbors. He’d already gotten a lot of unwanted attention during the trial. Even more when he took me in. Cussing out my ex in his front yard didn’t seem like a great way to pay him back.
“I just want another chance to explain—”
Dare You to Lie Page 10