“You wanted me to pass out.” I pulled my arm out of his grip, my fingernails scratching him. “You put something in my drink.” I spat the words at him.
Luke paused, and for a second, a brief moment before his face twisted back into its usual slimy mask, I saw panic.
And I knew what Jenna had told me was true.
“You think I drugged you? Come on, Kate. Do you really think I need to resort to something like that to get ass? You’re little friend Ali spread her legs for me the instant I glanced at her.”
“You’re a disgusting pig.”
Luke shrugged. “Hey, say what you want. But I wonder who people would believe if they saw the picture Ali sent me.”
The room felt like it was spinning. I grabbed the edge of Dad’s desk for support. “What are you talking about?” I asked, but I already knew what picture he meant.
He winked at me. “It seems our little Kate gets a thrill out of showing people her tits. But I already found that out. You were all about me seeing them at Jack’s.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “Please, Luke, please delete the picture.”
“What was that?” he asked and moved so close I could feel his breath against the side of my face. “Do I hear you begging me? Just like you begged for it at Jack’s house?”
“Go to hell,” I said.
I bolted. I ran out the door and down the hallway. I ran and ran and didn’t feel like I’d ever be able to get far enough away from Luke.
www.allmytruths.com
Today’s Truth:
You need to know how to act in an emergency.
TIMELINE TO DISASTER:
10:10 a.m.
Realize you can’t hide from Luke in the bathroom all day. Go to your next class when you hear the bell ring. Keep your eyes down. There is no one you want to see and everyone you want to avoid.
10:13 a.m.
Hurry into third period and pass two basketball players, panic because they are staring straight at you. They’re smiling. You feel like a rabbit caught between two lions. Avert your gaze and convince yourself this isn’t about what Luke mentioned. Try to act normal and pretend you’re okay.
10:37 a.m.
Notice the whispers and glances. Watch as they pull out their phones and check them, then lean over to their neighbors who also look at their phones. Hear your own phone vibrating in your bag but leave it there. You’re too busy focusing on your desk, pretending you are invisible as more heads turn toward you.
11:09 a.m.
Rush out of class when it ends. Run down the hall because you know something is wrong. People are looking, people are laughing, people are pointing at you.
11:10 a.m.
Put your hand in your bag and feel the shape of your phone. Tell yourself to check your message. It’s probably a text from Julia that has you scared for nothing. Tell yourself you’ll laugh when you find out it’s not a big deal. Talk yourself into believing that, but still don’t open your phone.
11:11 a.m.
See Jack coming toward you in the hall. He’s with Amanda. They are holding hands, and you hate him for it. Turn and walk the other way.
11:14 a.m.
Take your seat in art, a different seat for the last few weeks, away from the table of friends you used to sit with. Work on a picture of dark browns, reds, and black, blobs that bleed together but make no images.
11:56 a.m.
Create a sudden jagged line across your paper as a note is thrust in front of you. Unfold it and read, “Nice boobs.” Tear the note up until it’s tiny pieces of confetti. Push them off your desk and watch as they flutter to the ground.
11:58 a.m.
Open your cell phone to the picture of yourself that you never wanted Jack to see. Hear the room erupt in catcalls and applause. You’re open and exposed. There is nothing you can do to hide.
Posted By: Your Present Self
[Tuesday, January 14, 10:47 AM]
Chapter 79
Art wasn’t over, but I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. I couldn’t sit in class acting as if everything was okay, because it wasn’t. Everyone had seen the picture of me and watched for my reaction when I pulled out my phone. The same awful picture I never wanted Jack to see was now on every single person’s phone in the school.
I headed to the competition gym, the last place I figured anyone would find me. I knew it would be empty; I’d memorized Jack’s schedule months ago. I took a seat on the bottom bleacher and stared at the court, trying not to remember all the times I’d sat and cheered Jack on. In my head, I heard the ball bouncing across the floor, the squeaking of sneakers and shouts between team members. I shut my eyes and tried to picture Dad’s games that Brett and I used to go to with Mom. I saw it vividly, all of us together, a family still.
I held on to the image of the four of us until a bell rang, signaling the end of class. I jumped up and ran into the hallway before someone found me alone. I slipped between everyone else pushing their way to class and kept my head down.
“Skank,” a voice said, and an elbow jabbed me.
I skidded a little and dropped my blue tote bag. My books and other items spilled out all over. I bent to pick things up, grabbing the copy of The Great Gatsby I was reading for English, scooping up pens and papers, trying not to see who was walking around me, afraid of who I’d make eye contact with. I reached for a notebook that had slid away from me and a foot went flying in front of me, kicking it down the hall. I lost sight of most of the remaining items as they were passed from person to person, a makeshift soccer game, as people laughed and whispered from all around me.
The bell rang, and everyone cleared.
I picked up what I could find, shoving it all in my bag, not caring if I crumpled things.
I stood and locked gazes with Ali, who was striding down the hallway, talking with Jenna,
ignoring the fact that the bell had already rung.
I froze as they continued straight toward me.
“Hi, Kate,” Ali said when they reached me.
I stood quickly. I tried to back away but hit a locker.
Jenna smirked, “Sexy pic. I had no clue you were into that stuff.”
“So,” Ali said. “I hear you’re still pretending you didn’t throw yourself at Luke.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said and clenched my teeth.
Jenna walked around me slowly. “You’re nothing but a nasty slut,” she said, shoving me into the locker.
I winced and looked at her incredulously. How could she shift from the girl she was in the bathroom to who she was now? Had I been so wrong about the people I once called my friends?
“None of this is my fault,” I said.
“Get real,” Ali started. “After that picture you sent out, no one is going to believe you.”
“I didn’t send the picture out.” My voice rose in a frenzy.
“Right,” Ali said, drawing out the word. “Just like you didn’t screw Luke.”
“It’s the truth,” I said, trying to sound firm, even though it was taking every ounce of my strength to not break down.
I ducked to the left, shooting around the girls before they could stop me.
“You’re nothing. You blew it with us. Now you don’t matter to anyone,” Ali shouted after me.
Jenna laughed.
I ran, my bag slapping my side, threatening to spill open again as Ali yelled louder and louder.
I ran as heads poked out of classroom doors and teachers looked to see what all the noise was about.
I ran when they saw who was in the hallway and why and did nothing to stop it.
Chapter 80
I left Beacon, and I didn’t care if I ever went back again. My tennis shoes slipped on ice as I walked down the hill from school. Big fat flakes fell from the sky, and I wished I could lie in the snow. I imagined myself falling asleep, letting the flakes layer on top of me until I was nothing but a pile of white. I’d become a frozen piece of myself
, with a hard ice shell to keep everyone from getting too close.
At my house, I wrapped myself in Mom’s old quilts and sat looking out at the pool. The wind whipped and bent the tree branches. I stared at the gray sky, trying to figure out what to do. There was no way I could show my face at Beacon again. Not with that picture all over the place. It was only a matter of time until Dad found out about the picture too. He hadn’t believed me when I’d told him Luke tried to rape me, and the picture would only confirm his thoughts that what happened was my fault.
Julia seemed to think it was so simple to stand up to Luke and the rest of the players, but it wasn’t. They were everything to the school, to the community, to Dad.
I focused on the pool outside. It made me think of a different pool, one from when I was younger. A community pool Brett and I would beg Mom to take us to because our friends hung out there. She always protested that we had our own pool and it was silly to go somewhere else to do something we could do in our own backyard. But usually Mom would agree and pack a cooler full of snacks that cost a lot less than the ones they sold at the pool, though the pool snacks always tasted better. We’d throw our towels and sunscreen into a wagon and take turns pulling it.
Brett’s friends were wild boys who did cannonballs off the side of the pool, soaking the girls who were lying on towels. They ran along the side of the pool and made the guards blow their whistles, reminding them to slow down and walk. My friends were girls I knew from school, girls I’d sit and giggle with on blankets, jumping into the shallow sections when we got too hot, and watching everyone through our sunglasses and talking about them. The boys had their side of the turf; we had ours.
The pool had been my favorite place to go until the day Dad came along.
Mom was usually the one to take us since Dad worked basketball camps during the week, but it was a Sunday and the four of us were stir-crazy, ready to get out of the house. We all walked there together, separating when we arrived, Mom and Dad in chairs under an umbrella and Brett and I with our friends.
I was lying with my friends, eating junk food and watching the little kids splash each other in the baby pool, when a shadow fell over our towels.
“Kate, how about you and Brett jump off the high dive with me?”
My friends and I looked up, holding our hands to our eyes against the glaring sun, to see Dad staring down.
I shrugged, my lips salty from eating chips out of a can and hands greasy from sunscreen. “Sure, Dad, I’ll jump, but I don’t know about Brett. He doesn’t like the high dive.”
Dad acted as if he hadn’t heard me and headed over to Brett and his friends. I followed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to convince Brett.
Heights were Brett’s weakness. For as long as I could remember, Brett was terrified of high places. Otherwise, he wasn’t afraid of anything. He would go into the woods at night, watch scary movies where people got hacked up with chainsaws, and taunt the big dog two houses down, but he refused to have anything to do with heights.
Brett was pretty good at keeping his fear hidden. I could see what he was doing each time we went to the pool, running around with his friends or staying in line at the slide, avoiding the diving area.
“Brett,” Dad said, reaching him and his friends. “I want to see you jump off the high dive. Kate and I are heading over there.”
“The whistle’s going to blow soon for rest period. I don’t think we have time.”
“You’re not going to let your sister show you up, are you?”
“What? No way,” he answered quickly in case anyone suspected this might be true.
A bee buzzed around our heads in lazy, dizzying circles. It flew past me, and I swatted it away. I missed, and Brett ducked, jumping back as the bee buzzed around for a second time.
“Then let’s go,” Dad said.
At this point, he had an audience. Brett’s friends had gathered around and everyone watched him.
“They’re about to blow the whistle for a rest period,” he protested once more.
“We still have five minutes. It’s more than enough time.”
The line for the high dive was long, and I hoped Brett could play out the clock and wait for the rest period whistle.
Brett’s friends and a few of mine gathered around the fence separating the jumpers from the spectators.
The line moved fast, too fast, and we were now at the front of the line, climbing the wet metal steps. Dad went first, and as he jumped, I turned to Brett and said, “You don’t have to do this, you know. Walk away. Explain it to Dad. He’ll understand.”
“No, he won’t,” Brett said bluntly. “I have to jump.”
I was at the top looking ahead at the long white diving board that jiggled slightly from Dad’s jump. I turned, taking one last look at Brett’s terrified face, ran, and plunged into the pool.
The cold water shocked me. I swam to the ladder where Dad was. The two of us clung to the side, watching Brett reach the top of the diving board.
Brett made eye contact with us, and Dad waved in a pushing motion, as if he could lead him onto the board from below. Brett’s legs were shaking, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was scared. I clenched my teeth and dug my fingers into my palms. Why did Dad have to make him do this?
Brett took a tentative step out. At first, he held onto the rails that rounded up from the step, but then had to let go to keep moving. He took another step, and he now stood at the edge of the board, staring down.
I heard a single whistle and then multiple whistles answering back. “Rest period,” yelled the lifeguards in unison. Around me, the pool erupted into the groans of unwilling kids who reluctantly pulled themselves out and raced toward the concession stand to be the first in a line that would soon wrap around the eating area.
“You need to jump and get out,” a voice called from the side of the pool. I spotted a red-suited lifeguard staring Brett down, her hair in two braided pigtails, the straps of her suit pulled down over her arms to avoid tan lines. She hollered the message again, making a funnel shape with her hands to increase her volume in case everyone else now watching didn’t hear the first time. “You need to jump. It’s rest period.”
“Come on, Brett,” Dad said quietly, staring at him, expressionless. “Jump.”
“You need to get off the diving board,” the guard bellowed a third time, and I wondered if she got in trouble if she left people in the pool too long after the rest period whistle was blown.
“Jump, jump, jump,” the boys along the fence started to chant, grabbing the lifeguard’s word and shaking it over and over like my grandma’s dog used to do when he had a stuffed animal in his mouth. “Jump, jump, jump.”
My heart seemed to speed with their beat, and I willed Brett to jump. I wanted him to prove to Dad he was strong.
I wanted him to jump.
But he didn’t.
Brett slowly backed up, and once his foot touched the top of the ladder he grabbed the rails and pulled himself backward, tripping a little as he stepped down. His eyes shined with tears as the chant seamlessly shifted to, “Wimp, wimp, wimp.”
Brett burst out of the diving pool, flying past all the blurred faces, avoiding Dad.
As he ran and the chant picked up, I hated Dad for trying to force Brett to jump when he wasn’t ready.
After all these years, I realized Dad hadn’t changed. But Brett had. The Brett I knew was nothing like that boy Dad had taunted. Brett had found the courage to stand up to Dad, to all of those who doubted him, and the strength to change. Brett wasn’t that boy on the high dive anymore, and suddenly I knew what I had to do. I knew how to make Dad listen.
I went to my bedroom and booted up my computer. I logged on to my blog. Dad’s demands to stay quiet and his promise to punish Luke swirled in my head.
“No,” I said out loud. “No, Dad. I’m not staying quiet. I’m not keeping this inside.”
For only a second, I hovered the cursor over the button confirm
ing my blog was private before I clicked it and went public.
I logged on to my Beacon account and selected everyone on the list server; the entire staff and all students in the school. I typed the address of my blog into an e-mail and hit Send. Now the entire school had a direct link to the real story.
I closed my eyes and prepared myself for what I hoped was the start of the end. I’d done it. With just a click, I jumped, sang, and told the world everything in a voice so loud there was no way Dad or anyone else could act as if they didn’t hear me.
Chapter 81
I heard from Julia less than an hour after I sent
the e-mail.
“What is this blog?” Julia asked when I answered the phone.
“My story. I started writing it shortly before I came to Beacon. I kept it private, but now . . .”
“Now you want to use it to show everyone what happened.”
“Exactly,” I told her. “Do you think it’ll work?”
Julia paused before answering.
I picked at a hangnail and waited to see what she thought.
“It’ll definitely get people’s attention. Although I’m not sure it’s the attention you want.”
“But you think people will read it?”
I heard Julia typing on her keyboard. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “People are going to read this.”
“Good. I sent it out to the entire school. I wanted to make sure everyone sees it.”
“To everyone? Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
“I hope so.”
“What about your dad?”
“What about him?” I wondered how long it would take him to read the blog. He’d find out I sent the e-mail to everyone at school and freak out, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to read all of it.
“How do you think he’s going to react?”
“I tried to tell him, Julia. He wouldn’t listen then, so I hope he listens now.”
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