Avenged

by E. E. Cooper

  Zach gave a humble shrug. “Not everyone is cut out to be a time lord.”

  “True.” I could picture Brit’s face if Zach showed up in anything less than the approved outfit. “Of course, you’d look brilliant in a black tux. Very Bond.”

  “I’m often confused with James Bond,” Zach said. He smiled at me and started swinging again. “There’s a bunch of people planning to eat at Zefferelli’s. I can see if I can get us reservations.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. No way was Brit going to want to go there. “Can we decide later?” I asked.

  “Sure. My mom will be glad to see you. She misses you. Not as much as Maddy does. I should warn you she might try and stow away for the dance. We’d be the only couple there with our own mini-assistant.”

  “And I should warn you, my parents will take a zillion pictures. And Maddy is always welcome to tag along; you know I love her.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell her that. I can barely get away from her as it is. She’s half kid sister, half parasite.”

  I smiled and let the swinging motion calm me down. I no longer was counting, trying to get it to be a number divisible by six. He was willing to go with me. I pumped my legs, wanting to pick up speed. I suddenly felt lighter. I’d been dreading prom. I’d already shoved my dress to the back of my closet, where I wouldn’t have to stare at it. I’d need to pull it out now and make sure it hadn’t gotten wrinkled. I mentally started making a list of things I’d need to do. I should order some kind of flower for Zach, maybe get some new shoes too. “Thanks,” I said softly. “I know you didn’t have to do this.”

  “You were the one who got the guts up to talk about it. I’d been pretending prom wasn’t going to happen.”

  I watched him go back and forth. “I am sorry, you know,” I said. “About everything.”

  “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pushed some big talk at Tyler’s party.” Zach brushed the hair out of his face. “I don’t know, I guess in some ways I wanted to get it over with.”

  “I know I’d been acting weird,” I admitted.

  “It wasn’t just that. There was other stuff. I was crazy about you, but I was also pretending you were the perfect girlfriend and ignoring anything that didn’t fit with that. Then I got ticked when you didn’t act the way I wanted.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I guess I was too used to having an imaginary love life. Real people are a whole different game.”

  I realized I was holding my breath and made myself inhale deeply. It never occurred to me that Zach wasn’t a hundred percent happy with me. I’d been so consumed with Beth and how she made me feel, and finding that what I felt for Zach fell short, that I’d never considered that maybe I was less than his ideal partner.

  “That’s part of growing up, right? When you stop wanting people to fill some set idea you have in your mind and just like them for who they are.” Zach jumped off the swing. “Man, that’s deep. Who knew I’d be so good-looking and philosophical?”

  I laughed, but I was still stuck on the fact that I hadn’t been Zach’s dream girl. It was stupid to be upset about it. I’d been cheating on him. I knew we weren’t some love-struck perfect couple, but I’d liked the idea that I was exactly what he wanted. That he saw me as perfect. That someone did.

  I stood and hugged Zach. “I’m lucky you’re so wise. Not everyone gets their very own philosopher as a date for prom.”

  “You forgot good-looking,” he pointed out.

  I smacked my forehead. “Of course. Wise and good-looking.”

  Zach crooked his arm so I could take it. “You are indeed a lucky woman.” We started walking back toward school, this time side by side. “Did you want to ask Brit to come with us?” Zach asked.

  Hearing her name was like suddenly biting into something you expected to be sweet and having it being rotten and sour. I must have paused, because Zach stopped.

  “I know you guys are best friends, and since we’re not going as this hot romantic date, it might be fun to have a bit of a group,” Zach said. He smiled, trying to look excited at the idea of doubling.

  I blinked, trying to shove aside the image of Britney standing between Zach and me, smirking at the camera in all our photos.

  “Brit was hoping we could double,” I admitted.

  I could see Zach’s shoulders tighten. “Great. There’s plenty of room in my dad’s Prius.” He started walking again. “Wise, good-looking, and driving an eco-friendly chariot. Damn, you really are lucky.”

  Lucky enough to have dodged spending prom with Brit’s chosen match for me, but not so lucky as to get out of it altogether. I wanted to tell him that I knew spending prom with Brit was a nightmare, but that I needed to. I had to stay close to her. Sooner or later she would crack—she had to. How could anyone keep that kind of secret inside? When she broke, when she even wavered, I needed to be there. The very best of friends. Make her believe she could tell me. Tell me all of it. If I was going to stab her in the back, I needed her to trust me enough to be vulnerable. I just had to hang on.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Entering the cafeteria with Britney on Tuesday was a bit like walking into a restaurant with a member of the royal family or a pop star. Everyone turned and watched her, noting what she was wearing, how she’d styled her hair, and what she’d picked to eat. They would store up the details so they could dissect them later, trying to figure out how they could copy everything. Brit would spend the entire time acting like she didn’t notice every single eye was on her, all while making sure she looked perfect. She’d always been popular, but her recent celebrity and a hint of tragedy had only amplified her cachet. Plus, she no longer had to share the spotlight with Beth. She’d seen to that.

  She plopped her tray down at our table. Britney pushed her salad around with her fork and then glanced over at my tray. “I crave fries. I just look at them and my thighs expand,” she said.

  Fries were piled high on my plate, the grease giving them a shine. The smell rose up in fragrant clouds. “Are you kidding?” I asked. “You look amazing.” As much as I hated to admit it, she did. Pounds withered under Brit’s scorn. Apparently being evil is an aerobic activity.

  Brit speared a tomato. “I wish. Cameras add something like ten pounds. I saw myself the other day—my mom was replaying the CNN interview—and it looked like I was some kind of bloated hamster with a stash of nuts in my face.” Brit puffed out her cheeks.

  “I think you look awesome. Then and now,” I said. I felt my back teeth grind together. I stabbed a fry and jammed it my mouth to keep from saying what I really thought about the interview.

  “With prom right around the corner I want to make sure I look killer in photos.” Brit took a drink of water and then shot my tray another look. “I need to be in great shape, and that means losing a few pounds.”

  I dragged a fry through the puddle of ketchup on my plate. Was she really trying to imply that the mere sight of my fries was causing her weight gain? Either she was playing the pity card because she needed everyone around her to assure her yet again that she was the hottest girl on the planet, or she thought worrying about her weight made her seem like a normal person.

  “It’s just so hard to do. Looking good is practically a full-time job with the million temptations out there,” Brit said.

  Then I got it. I stood up with my plate, pushing away a wave of irritation. This was a loyalty test. “I’m going to dump these out. If you’re eating salad, then I’m eating salad. Solidarity,” I said.

  Brit flushed. “You don’t have to do that,” she said. Her eyes pinned me in place, letting me know that I did have to do it if I wanted to keep my place as her second in command.

  “Are you kidding? I want to do it,” I lied. “If you can’t count on your best friend to help you reach your goal, who can you count on?” I marched over to the garbage and slid the whole steaming mess into the can. I could feel her watching me, making sure I did exactly what she wanted. She needed to feel that she was still pulling
the strings, and I needed her to believe that I was still in thrall of her every action and word. I spun around and gave her a cheery wave before getting in line for the salad bar. At least Northside had some decent options; I wasn’t interested in existing on iceberg lettuce and beets.

  When I sat back down Brit reached over and flicked the croutons off my salad with her fork. “Carbs are the worst.” She watched approvingly as I ate the first few bites. “So I got your text last night. Things went well with Zach?”

  I nodded. “I know my going with him isn’t exactly what you pictured for a prom double date. I really appreciate you being so great about it.” I made myself laugh. “Of course, you’re basically the best friend ever, so I don’t know what else I would expect.”

  Brit rolled her eyes as if I was being a bit ridiculous, but I could see she was eating up the compliments. At least those were fat-free.

  I touched her wrist. “I’m being serious; you’re the best.” I made myself stare into her eyes, trying to radiate that she could count on me. Tell me anything.

  “If it means that much to you to go with him, of course I understand.” She jerked her head over to the corner of the café where Ryan was sitting with a group of the basketball players. “Although I’m going on the record that you are missing out by not going with him; that guy is tasty.”

  I jumped in my seat when music blared out over the intercom. Everyone started looking around trying to figure out what was going on. It took me a beat, but then I recognized the music—an old song: “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’.”

  Two of the basketball players jumped up from their seats, faced our table, and sang out the opening line, although one of them couldn’t stop laughing.

  Another group one table over fell to their knees and continued the song.

  Then guys who worked the dish line joined in and people cheered.

  Now everyone was smiling and pulling out their phones. It was a flash mob. Heads swiveled around trying to figure out what would happen next, and that was when Jason appeared out of nowhere and leapt onto the table. He was wearing a powder-blue shirt I knew Brit had given him months ago for his birthday.

  Brit stared at him her mouth falling open into a tiny O. She looked around and then put her hand over her heart like she was shocked by this outburst. Her cheeks were flushed. The rest of the basketball team was all on their feet doing what I was pretty sure was supposed to be a dance. For a bunch of athletes they weren’t the most coordinated. Everyone in the cafeteria was laughing and clapping along.

  Wait, not everyone. Sara was standing to the side of the room. I could see her swallowing over and over as if she were about to vomit. She grabbed her bag off the back of her chair and bolted out of the cafeteria. As she ran past me I saw tears in her eyes. Her band friends followed her out, but no one else seemed to notice her at all.

  The song ended and people applauded. I could see Jason shaking as he stood on the table in front of us. “I made a huge mistake. I had the best girl in the entire world and I threw it away.” He jumped down off the table and crouched down next to Brit’s chair. “You’ve got no reason to forgive me, but I’m going to beg you to anyway.”

  I stared at him trying to see if I could figure out his motivation. Did he want Brit back because she’d become so popular and he wanted everyone’s approval, or was he afraid of her? But maybe I only wanted him to be afraid because that meant someone else saw through her act.

  Brit looked at him and then away. Apparently now she was some shy 1800s maiden overcome by the wooing of her ardent lover.

  “What we had was awesome. Give me another chance and it’ll be even better. Let me take you to prom,” Jason pleaded.

  A few girls made an “aww” sound, like this was the most romantic thing ever to happen at Northside. I sighed. He’d done it for approval. He needed to make things right with Northside’s sweetheart. My stomach rolled uneasily. I wanted to reach over and slap him. When I’d heard he cheated on Brit I’d been angry with him for hurting my friend. He was dumping Sara to keep his image intact. Now I wasn’t just angry with him, I was disgusted.

  Britney waved her hand like she wanted Jason to stop, but she’d already turned her chair to face him.

  “C’mon, baby. We belong together.” Jason reached for her hand. “No one could rock prom better than the two of us.” He swallowed hard. Everyone was watching. Brit could crush him right now if she wanted to. He’d had to risk everything to have a chance, but he didn’t know how it would play out. My shoulders tensed, waiting to see what she would do.

  Brit shook her head like she couldn’t believe how absurd Jason was being, but then she said something low and quiet.

  Jason got closer. “What’d you say?” The entire cafeteria leaned forward, like Jason and Brit were a black hole, pulling us in.

  “I said yes, I’ll go to prom with you,” Brit said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Jason pumped his fist in the air and let out a whoop. He bent and swooped Brit out of her chair, spinning her around. People clapped like this was some kind of theatre production, which I guessed in a way it was. Brit pounded lightly on Jason’s back until he put her down, and then she let him kiss her. The basketball players high-fived one another for their part in the drama. Brit sat back down and patted her hair into place. She gestured to the chair, and Jason dropped into the seat next to her. Side by side again. Just the way she’d wanted it.

  A few of our teammates rushed over to our table, squealing their excitement. I saw Kate give Amy a look. They also thought Jason’s sudden return to Brit was less romantic and more pathetic, but Sara was a sophomore nobody and Brit was queen of the school. They knew who they were supposed to cheer for in this play. No white hat or black hat to tell the players apart required. I made sure to plaster a smile on my face. The “it” couple was back together again, and as their public servants it was our job to be happy for them. There was no room for doubt that Sara had lost. She might have momentarily stolen Jason from Brit, but it was nothing more than a temporary blip. An aberration. Things had been set to right once again. Jason had been too guilty to do anything else, and Brit would settle for nothing less.

  There didn’t seem to be any way to stop Brit. She was like some kind of force of nature, a hurricane or tidal wave. Anything that got in her way was mowed down, destroyed. I realized I was clenching my fists, and I focused on letting go. At first my fingers wouldn’t obey, but they slowly uncurled as I counted to six in my head.

  I wanted to put my head on the table and cry. It wasn’t going to be enough to be close to her. She wasn’t going to screw up, admit everything in a puddle of tears, and beg me to help her figure out what to do. She was going to go from one win to another. A gulf of hopelessness opened up in my chest, threatening to make me disappear.

  Brit’s face was flushed red. “I can’t believe he did that.”

  The salad I’d eaten turned over in my stomach. I couldn’t believe it either. “People are going to talk about this for years.”

  She gave a satisfied smile. “Yeah.” She looked around the cafeteria, her smile fading. Everyone else was going back to their lunch, already talking about the next thing. She seemed to slowly deflate. “So . . . double date for prom?” she asked.

  I blinked quickly and smiled. “Hell yeah.”

  Brit threw her arm around me. “We’re going to have the best time ever.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I picked at the oatmeal-colored tweed fabric that covered the chair in Dr. Sherman’s office and wondered for the thousandth time when I could leave. It would be a relief to give in, to tell her everything—how Brit wasn’t breaking down the way I’d expected (if anything, things were going even better for her) and how I didn’t know what to do. Dr. Sherman was trained to listen without judging. Everything in the room, from the muted colors, to her forward posture, to her long silences, was designed to make me feel comfortable enough to talk. To disclose.

  Disclose in an interes
ting word. It almost sounds like dis-clothed, to be stripped bare, naked, and that’s what it would be like. I could tell her the whole ugly thing, how I was certain that Brit had murdered Beth and was getting away with it, and she wouldn’t yell or scream. Dr. Sherman would be calm and promise that we’d “get to the bottom of things.” However, I couldn’t be sure she’d believe me. She might, but it was more likely that she wouldn’t. My story was simply too bizarre. And if she didn’t believe me, she would think I was the delusional one.

  “Help me understand why you are so resistant to being back here for therapy.” Dr. Sherman’s pen hovered over her notepad, ready to write down my many problems. “I get the sense you feel this is some kind of failure.”

  “I know it’s not a failure, but I feel like I can handle this by myself,” I said. Then I figured I’d better throw her a bone, something so she wouldn’t feel like I was disparaging what she did. “You taught me a lot of great coping strategies last time.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched, and I was pretty sure she knew what I was trying to do. “Glad to hear they’re helpful. How has your anxiety been over the past few months, on a scale of one to ten?”

  “Most of the time it’s really low, maybe a two,” I lied. Dr. Sherman made a murmuring sound. The truth was my mood was all over the map. The week had started off great, with things between Zach and me being settled and then crashing down on Tuesday, when I finally realized that Brit wasn’t going to just fall apart. The rest of the week I felt like I was spinning in circles. I had to do something, but I had no idea what it would be. Now I just wanted the week to end so I could stop acting every minute of the day.

  “I wondered if we might talk about something a bit different today,” Dr. Sherman said.

  A lump of dread squatted in my chest like a troll from one of Nadir’s video games. Whatever she had in mind, I was willing to bet I didn’t want to discuss it. “Sure.”

  “I thought it might be useful to go back and reflect on what happened at your last school.”