by Karlik, Mary
Justin handed back her phone. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
The bell rang and he moved to his spot at the table behind her. Class seemed to drag on forever, but mostly because Mr. Hesby kept staring at her. After class, Justin put a protective arm across her shoulder and walked her toward the door. What’s this all about? She wasn’t sure how to handle it. Was he being a protective friend, or—more?
She wasn’t ready for more. She wasn’t sure she wanted a protective friend either. But since friends were in short supply, she chose to go with that.
When they stepped into the hall he pulled her closer. “Where’s your next class?”
“Art.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m good.” And please drop your arm.
“It’s on my way.”
She nodded. Okay, this was the guy who’d rescued her. The one who’d spent the night and next day with her. But the last thing she wanted was to be seen in the hall with his arm around her. Sure, he had dimples that made her stomach flip. And yeah, he’d made a horrible ordeal bearable. And that was the problem. If she’d learned one thing in Chicago, it was that no guy ever did anything nice without expecting something in return.
Her body tensed beneath his touch.
“You okay?”
“Your arm hurts my skin,” she lied.
He dropped it like he’d been burned. “I’m so sorry.” They walked side by side but she was able to put some space between them. He stopped a few feet from the door to the Art room. “This is where I peel off.”
Not that Ryan minded, but it was weird that he’d stop in the middle of the hall ten feet from the room. “Thanks for walking me.” She made it a point to ignore those dimples and the way his hair had flopped across his forehead. She couldn’t help but notice that his face had an uncomfortable, almost panicked look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s the Art room. Long story.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it look even sexier. “So, I’ll see you after class.” He turned and practically ran from the art department.
Mr. Smith stood outside, shaking his head when he saw her. “Ryan Quinn. They did a number on you.”
They? “How’d you know what happened?”
“We got an email. It must hurt.”
“I’ve felt better.”
She relaxed as soon as she entered the room, where the smell of cheap manila paper, crayons, and paint was her aromatherapy. This was her place to just be. Mr. Smith always had some weird assignment that seemed completely pointless, but somehow in the end, she was always touched by it. It was like sitting in church and feeling like the homily was just for her.
Church. How could a group of supposed good girls have turned out to be so whacked?
When class started, Mr. Smith walked around the room with his right arm folded across his chest and left elbow propped on the arm. “The theme so far this year has been focused on unlocking your creativity and finding your voice. Open your sketchpads. I had planned to have you draw where you are now—in the moment. But sometimes, I think we need to see the future to get through the day. Your assignment today is to draw your future. Don’t hold back. The only rule is that you must write an artist statement first.”
Ryan raised her hand. “How can we write it first? I mean, our art is an expression of what we’re feeling. So how can we be free to express that, if we are confined by thoughts that aren’t gelled until the piece is set free?”
“I challenge you to look at it the other way around. Writing an artist statement first gives you direction and frees you to focus in that direction. But, I’ll compromise. Write your statement. After you finish your drawing, if you want to edit your statement, you can write a new one. But, I must have both.”
Ryan tried to focus on her future. What did she want? What were her dreams? She knew she wanted to go to college and major in art. That was a given. She didn’t want to focus on life after that. She didn’t want to focus on life next year. Her future was tomorrow, next week, next month. Would her face heal? What would happen when she saw the PC girls again?
On the corner of her sketch paper she wrote:
The future is… now.
She sketched a self-portrait with her hands covering her face, her fingertips just below her eyes. Each pinky nail had a heart in the center. The other nails spelled out survivor. The fountain was in the distance behind her, where five faceless girls stood in a cross formation, their hands poised in prayer position.
Mr. Smith called time on the assignment. They held their sketchpads up for the rest of the class to critique. One of the girls had drawn herself at the Eiffel Tower, while another had drawn a fighter jet. John, the lone guy in the class, drew himself as a superhero. Mr. Smith went around the entire room discussing each drawing before he got to her. “Ryan, tell us about your work, beginning with the artist statement.”
She pointed to the sketchpad. “The future is now. Umm.” Heat crawled up her neck and face. “I—ah—think it’s self-explanatory.” She held her breath. As a class, they critiqued each other’s work. Today, she didn’t want to hear what they had to say.
He nodded. “That it is.”
She let out a breath and the bell rang. She watched her classmates shove their sketchpads in their backpacks and hurry out of the room, but her aching arms kept her moving in slow motion. Kristen, a curly blonde who sat in the back of the class, dropped a note on her desk as she walked by. Ryan slung her backpack over her shoulder and opened the note.
It was a cartoon face covered by two hands. Painted across the fingernails of the right hand was Slut, and across the left, Whore. The air froze in her lungs.
How did she know? How many others know?
She crumpled the paper and shoved it deep into her backpack.
She felt like she was wearing ten-pound shoes as she trudged from the room. How had this all gone so wrong? So the whole school must know who she’d been in Chicago. But how? She’d removed every bit of evidence on her Facebook page. She’d unfriended all of her Chicago friends.
Justin waited in the same spot where he’d left her. Great. All she needed was to be seen with a guy—especially a hot guy with a reputation.
He smiled when he saw her. “Hey. How was class?”
She told her stomach not to flip at those dimples and gave him a half-shrug. “Okay.” He walked close to her as they headed down the hall. She didn’t need this—didn’t want this. Everybody in school thought she was a slut. She had to do what she could to change their minds and that meant not being seen with Justin Hayes. “You don’t have to walk me to class. I’m a big girl, you know. Don’t need protecting.” She tried to sound lighthearted, but speaking through a barely open mouth had made it sound whiny.
He gave her a sympathetic look. “I don’t mind. Where do you go next?”
“Lunch.” She was about to tell him that she could really manage without his help, when one of the PC girls who hadn’t been at the fountain bumped into her going in the opposite direction. It could have been an accident—the hall was packed—except that she’d swerved to collide with Ryan shoulder to shoulder.
Justin turned and yelled at the girl, “Hey, watch it.” He moved closer to her, almost hovering. Ryan gritted her teeth. How could she tell him to leave her alone? He’d saved her and apparently was still in that savior and protector mode.
Her phone signaled a text.
Kelsey: Just heard that the PC got sent to alternative school.
Ryan showed the text to Justin.
“I heard.” He bent his nearly six-foot frame close to her. “Listen, Ryan—it doesn’t make sense, but some people are pissed at you for this.”
“Screw them.” She said it with more grit than she felt. She shoved her phone in her pocket and turned away from him toward the cafeteria.
What kind of crazy place is this?
*
She’d tried to sound tough, but Justin
hadn’t missed the color draining from her face. Word had spread fast that the PC girls had been sent to an alternative school. He’d heard talk in the halls and it wasn’t going to get any easier for Ryan. Pretty much everybody was horrified by what the girls had done to her, but there was a small group that blamed her for the PC girls’ exile. A small but vicious group.
“Ryan, wait up.” He caught up with her. “There are more people who think what happened was horrible.”
She looked up at him and squeaked through her swollen mouth, “Well, give them a freaking gold star.”
Ouch. “Just trying to help here. I’m not the enemy.”
“Why do I have to have an enemy?” She opened her mouth wider when she spoke and flinched, swallowing and looking up at him with those deep blue eyes that made him want to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe from the world. “I’m sorry.”
“Come on, I have to walk by the cafeteria on my way to class anyway.”
They walked the rest of the way without speaking and she maintained a two-foot gap between them. He tried not to let it bug him, but it did. What happened to the girl who’d had a death grip on his hand in the emergency room?
As they neared the cafeteria, he saw Kelsey waiting for her. Standing with his arm around Kelsey was Austin McCoy. They’d had a momentary truce at the hospital, but he still couldn’t stand the guy. If he hadn’t texted his sister…
Two years and the anger just wouldn’t go away.
Kelsey gave Justin a look that said I’ve got this, so go away. To Ryan she said, “Come on. We’ll sit together.”
Justin adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and turned to Ryan. “I’ll see you later. Text if you need anything.”
She nodded, but was already walking away with her sister and Austin. He turned toward his next class and almost ran smack into Ashley Boyd, who wrapped her hands around his arm. “Hey, cutie. Where have you been? We missed you at the afterparty Saturday night.”
“Oh, yeah.” He smiled down at her in full flirt mode. She was one of those girls who always wore boob-revealing shirts and liked to touch him—a lot. It was hard not to flirt, and yeah, he’d hooked up with her last summer after a party at the trestle. But that was all it had been—a summer hook-up. They’d both dated other people since, but flirting between them was like an automatic reflex.
Flirting in general was an uncontrollable response for him—except with Ryan. He sucked at flirting with her.
And then it hit him.
Was she distancing herself from him because of his reputation? He’d never given his player rep much thought. Hell, most of the guys on the football team were players. He thought of the words he’d heard thrown around in connection with Ryan. Slut. Whore. Raunchy Ryan. The last thing she needed was to hang around with someone like him.
“Hey. Are you in there?” Ashley tugged on his arm. “I’m speaking to you.”
“What?” He peeled Ashley off him. “Yeah, just tired.”
He took a deep breath. Okay. So I don’t give up. I work to earn Ryan’s trust.
And if he was really lucky, her respect.
6
Ryan exited the food line and followed Kelsey and Austin to their table. She sat next to Kelsey, but couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting a few tables away. Seeing the empty chairs where she used to sit with the Macey Brown and the other Purity Club girls made her chest tighten.
Kelsey bumped her with her elbow. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just seeing all those empty seats. It’s my fault those girls are gone.”
“Whoa. It is not your fault. You didn’t ask for what they did to you.”
Ryan nodded. “I know. It’s just weird to think that five girls got kicked out of school.”
Kelsey’s friend Shelby Cox shook her red curls. “They should be wearing orange after what they did to you. I never did like that hypocritical bunch. How can you call yourself Christians when you go around judging everybody?”
Hannah Ellis said, “My cousin is in a club kind of like the PC, but it is nothing like this one. I think they take a pledge, but they focus on more than just that. They talk to other schools about dating violence.”
Kelsey wrinkled her forehead. “Is that a problem here?”
Hannah nodded. “According to her, it’s a problem everywhere. They talk about dating respect, date rape, stuff like that.”
Ryan had almost managed to slip a bite of the pasta through her barely open mouth when she heard the words date rape. The words still made her jump. Her fork clattered on her plate loudly enough for everyone to look at her. Even Austin stopped talking football with the guy across from him. “Oops.” She managed a half-smile and tried to will away the heat crawling up her face.
She stabbed another piece of corkscrew pasta, focused on her food, and shut the rest of the conversation out of her brain.
Mrs. Bettis, the counselor, spoke to two girls who sat at the PC table. Whatever she said to them had them talking with their heads close together when she left. She spoke to a few other people whom Ryan had seen at the PC meetings, but weren’t hard-core enough to isolate themselves from the rest of the students.
Mrs. Bettis made her way to their table and bent low next to Ryan. “We’re having a PC meeting after school to discuss the situation. It’s mandatory for all members, but if you’d rather not come, I’ll excuse you.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Bettis straightened and patted her shoulder as she walked away.
Kelsey turned to Ryan. “Is she freaking crazy? Why would she think you’d want to come?”
Ryan sat back. “I guess she figured I had to know, since I am a member.”
When they left the cafeteria, Ryan tried not to look for Justin. She wanted to be relieved that he wasn’t there, but the truth was, she felt a little let down.
Kelsey walked on one side of her and Austin on the other.
“You don’t have to escort me.”
“It’s no big deal.”
Not that she didn’t appreciate the support, it was just that it was… smothering. “No, seriously. You don’t. I don’t need babysitting. I need to deal with this.”
“You don’t have to deal with it alone.”
Ryan stopped and faced her sister. “I appreciate the support. Really. Right now, I need some space.”
Worry wrinkled Kelsey’s forehead. “Okay. You know I’m here if you need me.”
“I know. Thanks.” Ryan peeled away, turned down the hall where her locker was located, and stopped. Her locker seemed to be the topic of discussion as people passed it. They would point and some even giggled.
What now? Two steps in, she figured out why. Can’t this nightmare end?
She took a deep breath, forced an I don’t give a shit look to her face, and marched past the gawkers to the door. Her hand trembled as she dialed the combination. She could smell the red lipstick that had formed the letters across her locker: slut. She pulled her Physics book from the shelf and closed it as if she hadn’t noticed the word.
When she turned around the group was gone. Almost.
Justin stepped up and had smeared part of the T before she caught his arm. “Don’t.” He withdrew his hand and gave her a why the hell not look. “It’s just a word.”
She turned and wasn’t sure if she wanted him to follow her or not. He did.
“That’s some sick shit. At least tell the office and let them clean it up.” He was behind her, so close she could almost feel his shirt.
It would be so easy to let him protect her, but it wasn’t going to happen. She had to be strong. She stopped and faced him. “I can’t care—if I do, it gives them power over me.” Then he flashed that smile with those dimples that made her want to forget about being strong and fall into his arms.
“You’re pretty amazing, Ryan Quinn.”
She wasn’t sure how that made her amazing or even how to respond to the compliment. So she just gave an awkward shoulder shrug. “You’re o
bviously the only one in school with that opinion.”
“I hope my opinion counts.” He looked at her with those dark eyes, as though she mattered to him. That made her more nervous than opening her locker in front of onlookers. “I know you can take care of yourself. I’m here if you need me.”
She couldn’t respond. It was too much, too big.
She pointed down the hall with her head. “Come on.” They walked side by side to her Physics class in comfortable silence.
When they got to her class, he shifted his backpack and snuck a half-hug. “I have football practice after class. I won’t be able to meet you.”
“It’s okay. I’m good.” And I didn’t ask you to.
“I know. I—I’m an idiot. You don’t need me watching over you.” He played with the straps of his pack. “So you still have my number.”
She nodded. “Didn’t delete it.”
He ducked his head. “Good.” He stood there for a couple of breaths. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and headed down the hall.
God. He went from protector to awkward guy in a heartbeat. Something about that shift totally endeared him to her. “Hey, Justin.”
He turned and walked backward. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you were there.”
He smiled as though she’d called him a hero. “Thanks.” He turned and jogged away.
*
“I’m going to the meeting.” Ryan heaved her backpack on her shoulders.
Kelsey shook her head. “Why put yourself through that? I’ll go.”
“We’ll tell you everything they say.” Mackenzie looked at her sister through bangs that almost covered her eyes. Mackenzie, the invisible girl. So quiet she tended to blend into the background. Ryan was touched that her little sister was willing to go to a meeting with a bunch of strangers on her behalf.
“It’s really sweet of you, but I have to show them that they may have knocked me down, but I’m still here.”
“I think coming to school today pretty much did that,” Kelsey said.