by Ashley Beale
"You're going to have to give me more than a name, man."
Of course the first thing that comes to mind is her in my bed last night, biting down on the sheet to avoid yelling out my name. I need to force myself to stop thinking about her that way. "Blonde, skinny, beautiful."
"That sounds just like half the girls there last night. If you didn't notice, I wasn't really part of the party last night anyways, I found a chick that just... dude, she was wild. Fucking intense."
Shaking my head, knowing its best to clear thoughts of Hope, I just tell him, "Yeah, I ended up busy myself. What is happening tonight?"
"Honestly, I was planning on bringing this chick out for a bite, maybe hit up a bar or something after."
"Shit, she must have been amazing if you're bringing her out on a date."
"Not a date," he says in complete deadpan.
Teasing him, I just say, "Whatever you want to call it dude. Catch you later."
I can hear Tristian yelling something out, about me being a douche, but I ignore it while I hang the phone up and slide it into my pocket. I don't have plans tonight and maybe that is a good thing. I don't normally party like I did this week, I usually keep it for the weekends, but it seems a lot was happening this week. I could always dig into my folders and do some work at home, to make up for lost time at work today.
Digging through takeout menus after two hours of persistent work, my phone vibrates and I look down to see Tristian’s dumb ass calling my phone. I pick it up, mocking our earlier conversation. "How was the date lover boy?"
"Fuck off. You eat yet?"
"I won't be your rebound, sorry man. I don't swing-"
"Shut the fucking door. The girl has a roommate and apparently she is tagging along. Be ready, I'm on my way to come pick you up."
I look at the menus in my hand and realize that having a social life at dinner time sounds reasonable. My life can be a little lonely sometimes. Tossing the menus in the drawer before closing it, I let Tristian know that I'll be ready in ten. He hangs up as I head to the bathroom to freshen up. I hope its not some annoying bimbo. Between Paul, Hope, and now this case I'm working on, I'm at the end of my rope. There is no room for any more frustration in my life right now.
Hope
"Ms. Manson."
I look up from the hard, wooden bench to see a curly haired brunette smiling over at me. I stand up and make my way over, offering my hand when in arms reach. "Yes, I'm Ms. Manson."
She smiles warmly at me, no judgment on her face... yet. "I'm Mrs. Greene. Please, come into my office so we can discuss a few things."
I follow her into the warm, inviting office, sitting down when offered. She sits at her desk and quickly reads over the form I filled out only twenty minutes ago. "You're looking to be a public speaker?"
"Well, technically a motivational speaker," I tell her, nodding my head.
She presses her lips together without looking at me, and I know what she just read. "You're an ex-convict?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Her eyes look me dead on, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. "May I ask for what?"
The papers in her hand are placed neatly in front of her as she gives me all her undivided attention. I expected this, so I don't give in and run like I want to, instead I tell her exactly what I've been preparing. "Six years ago I was in high school, I thought I was on top of the world and we were all invincible. I was one of those girls that walked the halls and was noticed by everyone, and I'll admit, I loved it. A girl named Jenny spread a rumor about me, and I tried to prank her, thinking that if I humiliated her enough, she'd either leave town or would stop saying things about me. Unfortunately, the prank went wrong and she ended up falling into the pool at my hands, cracking her head open and..." my voice chokes up and I'm forced to look away as I continue, "and there was blood. And... And... She died."
It doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell people about what happened, I always choke up at the mention of me killing her. Imagines of that night immediately flash in my mind and I have to close my eyes tight, willing my mind to stop, at least for right now. Right now is not the time to have flash backs of that horrible night.
Opening my eyes again, I peek over to Mrs. Greene, the principal of Millbrook High School. She looks indifferent, not judging me but not feeling bad either. I'm glad she doesn't feel bad, not for me, I don't need that. I just want her to understand and accept what I've done, and allow me to help others who may be following in the footsteps of who I used to be.
"Do you believe you've changed or is this part of your parole?"
I clear my throat before speaking, hoping it helps with the texture of my voice, knowing I'm full of emotions right now. "I'm actually not on parole, I did my full sentence of man-slaughter, but I am on probation. It wasn't part of my conditions, I just had to seek job placement, however I asked if this could be considered a job."
"Is it?"
"If I get paid," I tell her honestly.
She just sits there and stares at me for a few minutes then reaches for a pen. "Ms. Manson, if I get this correctly, you're saying you used to be a bully- one that was so... self-centered... that you actually are the reasoning behind someone’s death? Now you want access to my school grounds to speak to my children about bully prevention? Do you see something wrong here, or is it just me?"
"I've had over six years to think long and hard about this, and my answer to you is both yes and no, Mrs. Greene." I sit a little taller, giving her my very best speech, hoping she'll see the light at the end of my very dark tunnel. "There is a lot wrong with this situation, because giving you sight of what I've done and who I was- I wouldn't trust me either. The way I see it though, and the way I hope you see it, is that I've done something horrifying, something life altering to too many people. To Jenny and her family, her friends, my life, my family and friends. I have no one now. I didn't just forget about what happened, I allowed it to form me. I've embedded myself with one goal in mind- to make a difference. A difference for Jenny. For all the Jenny's in the world. I don't want to hear of anymore suicides, accidental murders, bullying, cliques, any of it. It may never end, but we need to try to stop it regardless. I'm someone who can connect to bullies, I can understand why they are the way they are, and I can connect with those who suffer from the other side of the spectrum as well. So although I'm asking you to trust me, when in reality, you shouldn't- I truly believe I'm the best person for this."
With the pen paused above a piece of paper, Mrs. Greene's eyes don't leave mine. She doesn't write anything, she doesn't blink, she just simply stares at me. I'm not sure if I touched a spot deep inside of her, begging for her to allow me this opportunity, or if she is completely disgusted with me to the point of making her speechless.
She clears her throat while placing the pen down softly, covering it with her hands. It still takes her a few seconds to process her own thoughts before she speaks. "I would like to see you back in here on Monday with a prepared speech. You do not have to read it word for word, but I want an idea of what it is going to be said to my students. If I am truly touched by your speech and feel it has value, I will accept you into our school. We can discuss a contract come Monday depending on your speech. Please don't make me regret my decision Ms. Manson, I don't like to be fooled."
I stand up and smile down at her, tears brimming my eyes. "You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you for the opportunity."
She stands up as well, but doesn't move. "I assume you can find yourself out?"
I nod my head to answer, still giving her a sincere smile for allowing me to start in making a difference.
"Monday, nine sharp. Not a second late."
"Yes, ma'am, I'll see you then."
Walking back down the halls to the entrance, I slow my pace and take in my surroundings. I was nervous on the walk in and mostly stared at my feet. Now I can actually absorb the feel of being in a high school again. The smell alone brings memories barreling back into my
mind. This may not have been my school, but the smell remains the same.
Walking past a locker that had the numbers '06' on it makes me smile. I remember decorating DJ's locker the first time. We were sophomores and had just started dating the week before. I put his jersey number on the locker and a decal in the shape of a kiss. I didn't know if he'd like it, but I put it there anyways, as I had just won it in a quarter machine the night before. He walked over before I left his locker and asked about the kiss. I was nervous to answer, because we hadn't yet kissed yet, and everything about DJ made me tingle deep inside.
Before I could answer, he had pushed me up against the locker and laid his lips upon mine. It was the first time I actually kissed a guy before. I had lied to him and told him I kissed other people, and the thought running through my head wasn't if I was a good kisser or not- it was whether or not he noticed I was a virgin kisser. He didn't seem to mind either way, as he pulled away and whispered, "Thanks babe."
It was impossible not to love that guy. It broke my heart so much that he never once visited me nor wrote to me while I was locked away. I can't say I blame him, but he was the one person I thought would still be there for me.
Deciding going down memory lane of my high school days wasn't the best idea, I leave the school quickly and soak in the sunshine once I'm on the tar again. The school is less than four blocks from where I'm living, so I never called a cab on the way in and decide not to on the way back. Anyway to possibly pinch a few pennies is nice for me.
When I left Wes' place last night and arrived back into my home, Karah wasn't there. She wasn't there when I left this morning either. I'm glad to find her getting dressed when I walk into the room this afternoon, although it would have been a better greeting had I not seen her bent over in a thong, grabbing her pants to pull them up.
Clearing my throat to grab her attention, Karah jumps and I laugh at her. She whips around, looking shocked at first then amused. "And where have you been today?"
I place my butt down on her bed instead of climbing to the top to get on mine. "Finding work. Where you headed off to?"
"Oh, I ended up meeting this guy last night," she says with goo-goo eyes, "and he was perfection wrapped up in sexy. He wasn't even the guy I was supposed to meet, but the second our eyes met, it was like... sparks flying." Her faces pinches. "Corny, yeah, yeah, I get it, but it’s true. I can't explain it. We had a fantastic night, and now he is bringing me out to dinner."
I smile for her, glad she found someone that can make her feel so magical. "That is awesome. I hope you guys have a great night."
Once she slides a belt through the loops and looks around in her drawer for something more, she pauses before looking over to me. "How was your night?" She continues digging through the drawer as I answer.
"It was decent. I ended up meeting a guy that was..." how to explain Wes. He started out sweet, then turned into a douche bag that was amazing at sex? That just doesn't sound appropriate, especially after her speech about sparks flying. "He was cool. We hung out."
Ew, I sound twelve.
"He was cool and you hung out?" Yeah, her repeating it makes me sound even dumber.
I smile at her bashfully. "Yeah, I enjoyed talking with him. We hung out for a while, I came home and passed out, then woke up and went job hunting. Now I got to hold out on eating as long as possible and try to spend as little as possible on food when its time to eat."
Now I sound pathetic. It’s obvious I haven't had much of a social life.
Karah grins mischievously at me. "Tristian, the guy from last night, mentioned getting drinks with a buddy after we did dinner. Maybe I can see if his friends wants to double? If we make it sound like a date, I'll bet he buys." She winks at me and finishes the adding touches to her outfits- also known as jewelry. She looks fabulous and I envy her natural beauty and her knack for dressing so perfectly.
"Do you think it'll work?" I ask, almost desperate for someone else to buy me food, even though I don't want to go on a date.
"Once you get to know me, you'll know that I make anything possible. Let me give him a call and you get dressed."
She grabs her curling iron, hair brush, and phone before walking out into the hallway, to where I assume is the bathroom to do her hair. I dig through the limited supply of clothing I have and end up wearing the cutest thing I own. A pair of ripped skinny jeans that are dark blue and a flowy tank top the color of a sunset. I have no accessories to go with my outfit, and I have no supplies for makeup or hair, so I lay back on Karah's bed and wait for her to finish up.
Seconds later she peeks her head in. "What are you doing?"
I look over at her and raise a brow. "Praying."
"Ha, ha, you're so funny. Get your ass up and come down here, I'm going to make you gorgeous tonight."
Rolling my eyes, I climb off her bed and follow her down the hall. She has me get on my knees as she grabs random pieces of my hair, curling them into different sized spirals all over. By the time she is done with my hair, my legs are cramped, but I have to admit I look pretty awesome. My hair is absolutely perfect. "Wow, thanks," I tell her, examining myself in the mirror.
"No thanks needed, you're beautiful. You just got to accentuate your perfections."
"I don't want to," I tell her honestly.
"Oh yeah, and why is that?"
Without answering her, I walk back towards our room. She follows behind me and waits until I sit back on her bed before she grabs my shoulders and gets eye level with me, forcing me to look at her. With a sigh and an exaggerated eye roll, I finally admit it to her. "Because I don't want to be selfish. Being pretty, having guys buy me meals, going to parties, all of that is insanely selfish and I don't deserve any of it. I deserve to work hard for everything I want in life, and I need to give more than I receive."
"Oh, please, I don't even want to hear it. We're all selfish, we all make mistakes. Didn't I tell you this yesterday? I bet if Jenny were alive, she'd forgive you for all you've done wrong, its time for you to forgive yourself."
"That is the thing, she isn't alive. She is dead. I deserve to be dead, not her. I feel like an even worse person living life like nothing happened when she never got a chance to live."
"And you could die tomorrow," Karah's voice gets harsh. "Damn you Hope, just stop it. You want to make it up to that girl that you're alive and she isn't? Then live. That is all you can do to make it up to her- live. Do the one thing she couldn't. You're a better person, that much is obvious, how much more do you really need to do?"
I shake my head at her. "Nothing, don't worry about it. Sorry. Did he say his friend was going? Are you sure I don't have to spend twenty dollars on a meal? If I have to pay, I'm only ordering a water."
Karah's mouth spreads into a smile. "He is going. I'll make sure he pays and if he doesn't, this meal is on me." She winks her eye before turning away from me. I know not to argue with her, she’s made it known more than once she is the type to always win in a verbal war.
Turning back to face me, my eyes widen to seeing eyeliner in her hand. "Close your eyes."
Ugh.
Wes
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
"Karah... Hope... it's nice to uh, see you both again."
Hope looks to Karah the same time Karah looks to her. It’s got to be some sort of joke that they're roommates.
Tristian looks over at me and I know he is trying to evaluate the idea of if I've slept with Karah before or not. I shake my head at him, indicating I have not, before the girls see. Hope looks back to me and I'm not really surprised to see her without a smile. After all, I was a douche bag last night.
"I'm starving, let’s go," Tristian says. He wraps his arm around Karah's shoulders and walks into the restaurant.
Looking to Hope, I offer a smile. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"I'll leave if you want," she says. Her voice and face both tell me she is serious. I'm not sure I like that she thinks so little of herself.
Tristian and Karah already are seated at a four top table, so the two of us join them. When the waitress comes by for our drinks, I'm surprised to hear Hope order a water with lemon after we've already ordered alcoholic drinks. Before the waitress can walk off, I tell her, "No, she'll have a rum and Coke."
The waitress looks to Hope, as if questioning her, but Hope doesn't look back. She stares down at the menu, her face a soft hue of pink. I just embarrassed her but she doesn't argue. The waitress walks off, scribbling down on her notepad. When she is out of site, Hope peeks over at me, hiding her face behind the menu so our friends don't see, and she hisses at me. "Why did you do that?"
"Do what?" I play dumb.
"Order a drink from me. I'm fully capable of ordering my own drink."
"You ordered a water when we all ordered eight dollar drinks. It’s obvious you didn't want to spend the money, but don't worry, I've got this. Order whatever you want."
I don't look at her even though I can feel her eyes boring into the side of my face. "Ass," she whispers.
"So I've been told," I say back. If she wants to play that game, I'll really be an ass and order her whole damn meal.
Placing the menu down, I interrupt Hope who is still looking at the menu. Tristian and Karah are lost in their own world already, so I don't bother even attempting to involve them in any conversation. "Ready for twenty questions yet?"
She mumbles something that I don't quite hear. Instead of trying to decipher what she says, I decide to ask the first question. "What is your last name?"
Her face doesn't move but her look towards me out of the corners of her eyes. "Manson."