Between These Lines (A Young Adult Novel)

by Murgia, Jennifer

  How was I going to tell her I wouldn’t be at the party without disappointing her? I stared up at the rectangular lights in the ceiling then closed my eyes. “This is impossible,” I said out loud.

  “Picking a book out with your eyes closed is pretty impossible, I don’t recommend it.”

  Startled, my eyes snapped open to find Evie in front of me. A peculiar look was on her face—a mix of relief and urgency.

  “Lunch over already?” I suddenly felt bad for not asking her to eat with me—on her turf or here, away from the others who found us so entertaining yesterday. I swept the chip bits off my pant legs and stood up.

  “No, not yet,” She walked over and stared at the spines of books that were eye level, but I had the feeling she wasn’t here to check one out.

  “Evie, I . . .” I was about to tell her the impossible. That as of this morning, I had reluctantly morphed into Shane’s toady for Friday night, when she caught me off guard.

  She turned her attention away from the books and faced me. “Look, I’m just going to come right out and say it, Chase. You can’t go to Jake’s.”

  What she saw on my face must have troubled her and the pace of her voice quickened as she tried to explain, rushing her words as if I would try to stop her before she was finished.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you there. I do. It’s Shane. You don’t understand how he’ll make things miserable for you.”

  I was half tempted to admit he had already accomplished that for me years ago; how whatever he could do to me now was only a fraction of what I’d felt growing up.

  “Shane is controlling and manipulative,” she continued as she stepped closer to the rack next to me. “Please, I know I talked you into going, and you have no idea what that means to me, but this note—the one you got in your locker—just throw it away and ignore it. If you get too close to them you’ll understand I’m telling the truth. Shane plays games with people, and . . .”

  She let out a huge sigh. “I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”

  “You don’t think I can take care of myself?”

  “Of course I do. I just happen to know him very well.”

  “You make him sound like some sort of monster.”

  Without another word she reached across and took my hand, placing it on top of her cheek, just like I had done in English class, and this simple gesture stole my breath.

  “Sometimes he can be,” she whispered.

  Evie let go of my hand and slumped down against the bookcase onto the carpet and placed her face in her hands.

  I sat down next to her and waited.

  With her face still covered, her voice came out muffled. “You’re going to find out anyway, so I’m just going to get it over with and tell you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Evie

  It took every ounce I had to look at him, and then, I realized I just didn’t have any, so instead I stared ahead at the rows of books and prepared to let everything unravel.

  The desire to tell Chase about Shane, the real Shane, was almost unbearable. Every time I looked into his eyes I wanted to tell him—felt I owed it to him to know what Shane was capable of.

  But I couldn’t.

  I was afraid he would see I was no better than those I hung out with. He would think it was all for a stupid grade, or worse, because I thought it was part of Shane’s master plan. Shane’s wrongdoings didn’t paint a pretty picture. And what made it even more horrible was I finally saw the type of person I’d allowed myself to become attached to.

  And I was also afraid Chase wouldn’t believe that I really liked him.

  I took a deep breath. “You know how schools have cliques? Well, Shane takes it to a whole new level. He purposely degrades students to control them. To him, it doesn’t matter who you are, which club you belong to, what kind of car your dad gives you for your birthday—it’s all about reputation. Internal damage. If he can humiliate you or lower your self-esteem, then he’s accomplished something.”

  I looked at Chase, afraid of his reaction, but he watched me patiently and I went on.

  “He reels you in by acting like he truly, honestly likes you. He makes you feel special, like one of them, and then . . .”

  Chase took my hand in his and finished my sentence. “And then he does something so horribly unforgivable to you, so that you’re never the same.”

  It hit me. I was like all the others. How could I have not seen it? All this time I believed I was one of them; an equal to Shane and his friends. Even to Tara.

  “You never were one of them, Evie,” Chase whispered, as if reading my thoughts. “You’re too good for them.”

  I stared at the dingy blue carpet beneath us, and shook my head. “I never realized.”

  “That’s how it works. You aren’t supposed to see it until the right moment, until it shatters you.”

  I let my hand rest in his. “You say it like you know firsthand.”

  Chase shook his head and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  But I knew Shane often went for the jugular, using a person’s deepest secret or flaw to play with. It was never really anything that had to do with school. School was simply the arena for him.

  “Your parents,” The idea trembled out of me and I felt Chase’s hand stiffen around mine. “He used the accident against you?”

  Chase said nothing but I could see a dark haze settle over the brown eyes that had been so tender for my sake.

  “I’m so sorry. That’s unspeakable. Losing your parents isn’t a reason to outcast someone.”

  We had a few minutes before the bell would ring and we picked ourselves up off the floor. I couldn’t seem to let his hand go as we left the library and made our way to the hallway, preparing to slip back downstairs to our lockers. I didn’t care if Shane saw us, or anyone else for that matter. As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t his anymore. I wasn’t Chase’s either—not yet—but everything that exuded from this boy next to me was more genuine than anything Shane had ever offered me.

  On a whim, I went with my tornado of thoughts, figuring we’d gotten this far—why stop?

  “Did Shane and Jake happen to come up here before me?”

  “No. I was alone the whole time.” Chase walked at a slow and comforting pace, and at this point, being late to our next class was the last thing on my mind.

  My day had been filled with bad feelings since the start, so I shook this one off for the moment, convincing myself it was nothing and thankful they hadn’t found Chase alone in the library to torment. Besides, Jake was with Shane, and if I knew Jake well enough, he wouldn’t agree to go in on anything too malevolent. I hoped.

  But their words came back to me. I had to figure out what they meant, especially the part about damaged goods, which brought a disturbing feeling to my heart. Clearly, I knew how I fit into that category, but I could keep that to myself forever if I had to. I stole a glance at Chase as we neared the top of the main staircase, and wondered why a quiet, sensitive person like him deserved to be labeled as Shane so snidely did.

  The main foyer was full as we descended. Instead of going our separate ways, Chase followed me to my locker, his hand still wrapped around my own. I expected to see Tara leaning against hers, waiting for me to show up, but the row was empty. She probably grew bored with

  Max and Sienna, and finished up early.

  “Will you be home later?” Chase asked out of the blue, his watchful eyes on the lookout for any of Shane’s spying friends.

  “I was planning on it. Do you want to go over the timeline?”

  All I could do was stare back into his soft, brown eyes. When the sound of a locker shutting a few feet away shook me out of my trance, I felt the red flush fanning its way up my neck.

  “I need to talk. I could text you instead if it’s not a good time.”

  I fumbled with my thoughts, believing, at first, that he wanted to talk about the project.

  There was a drastic difference between what I want
ed to say and what I shouldn’t, but God help me, I went with the second. “Do you remember how to get to my house?”

  I watched his neck as he swallowed, how the rise and plummet of his Adam’s apple met the knot of his tie against the starched collar of his uniform. His eyes darted back out into the hallway before accepting my invitation with a nod.

  “Four o’clock?”

  I turned and stared into my locker, hyperventilating. I had just invited Chase Mitman over to my house—my practically empty, bare, dysfunctional, lonely house—after spilling nearly all of Shane’s pathetic secrets upstairs.

  My heart began to race as determined footsteps approached from a distance. I closed my eyes and searched my memory of all the faces around us just a minute ago. Someone had overheard. Someone told Shane, and now he’s coming for a confrontation. But it wasn’t my locker the shoes slowed in front of, and when I looked over, it wasn’t Shane or any other student with super-sonic hearing.

  Professor Coleman’s face bore a mask of consternation as he stood in front of Chase with his arms folded tightly across his suit.

  “You’d better come with me, Mr. Mitman. Bring your belongings.”

  A look of bewilderment plastered across Chase’s features. “What’s this about?”

  “Just bring your things,” was the only answer Professor Coleman gave.

  “Chase,” I whispered, watching him closely, but I was cut off by a stern look from our otherwise usually calm English teacher.

  Chase turned his head and followed Professor Coleman down the corridor. He looked back over his shoulder, his lips mouth out the words “Four o’clock”—and then he disappeared toward Headmaster Whitley’s office.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chase

  “Have a seat, Mr. Mitman,” was the first thing I heard after the door closed behind me. I was ushered to a wooden chair opposite a large walnut desk with a stark white desk calendar bearing the Whitley Preparatory crest in the center of it.

  Headmaster Whitley stood behind the desk. He was a tall, slender man with a determined jaw line and the same ice blue eyes as his nephew. In my opinion, he looked too young to be a Headmaster, and I briefly wondered if sneaky corruption ran in the family.

  Professor Coleman stood behind me at the door, guarding my only chance of escape. He looked at his watch every couple of minutes and appeared uncomfortable when our eyes met, then he cleared his throat and nodded, motioning for me to turn in my chair and face forward.

  “Do you use illegal substances, Mr. Mitman?” Headmaster Whitley asked as he drummed his fingers on the desk.

  “I’m sorry, sir?”

  “Illegal substances. Drugs. Have you ever used them?”

  “No.” That was a ridiculous question. I had never, ever tried a drug in my life.

  Headmaster Whitley turned to face the wall behind his desk, lacing his fingers behind his back. For a few moments there was utter, excruciating silence, which I tried to use wisely and wrack my brain for anything that would explain why I was sitting here.

  He turned back around and tossed a small plastic bag onto the desk and waited for my reaction. At first, I didn’t know what it was, and then I put two and two together. Something had been confiscated, and Headmaster Whitley was accusing me of being its owner.

  “Well?” he asked.

  I motioned with a nod of my head to the little plastic lump taking center stage. “What is it?”

  A little harrumph escaped his lips. “You don’t know?” I watched as he exchanged looks with Professor Coleman, who hadn’t moved from his place behind me.

  “No, sir. I don’t.”

  “This was found lying beneath your desk in Professor Coleman’s class. It was found after a sweep was completed before lunch.” His expression was one of smug anticipation as he waited for me to break my composure and give in.

  “Well, it’s not mine,” I insisted. “Besides, I wasn’t at my desk during English. I was at one of the lab tables in the back of the room working on a project.”

  Once again his eyes swept to the door before returning his accusing gaze to me.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Chase. You’ve been through a rough couple of years, rough enough to change a person, but your record has stayed remarkably clean. We’ve already had the bag dusted for prints and yours are not on it.”

  Dumbstruck, I lost all sense of reserve and stood up. “Then why did you accuse me?”

  “I didn’t accuse you,” Headmaster explained. “I simply asked if you had ever used before, not if this happened to belong to you. There’s a difference. You see the bag was situated just beneath the leg of your desk to imply that you had dropped it, when really, it was placed there on purpose.”

  “Who put it there?”

  “Why don’t you sit back down and we’ll talk?” He took his seat on the other side of the massive desk. Clearly I couldn’t do anything else but follow his suggestion.

  Never had anyone ever tried to pin something so unbelievably criminal against me. I may not have any close friends, but I was certain I didn’t have such hateful enemies either –at least not until recently. I shook my head disbelieving that my simple association with Evie would result in such an extreme act. As of yesterday, I knew of one person who would have a substance like that on him. Ty Dunhammer. But Ty would never have a solid enough reason to involve me or blame me, let alone waste his valuable stock by planting it beneath my desk in order to get me in trouble.

  I shuddered with anger knowing exactly who would have such a motive. Shane. But how was I supposed to convince the man in front of me that his own nephew, his own flesh and blood, could conspire to set me up?

  What came out of Headmaster Whitley’s mouth next was enough to make anyone’s jaw drop to the floor.

  “Chase, do you understand what tough love is?”

  “I’ve heard of it, sir.”

  He was up and standing again, this time pacing behind his desk.

  “My nephew, Shane, has a little problem. It seems the fact that I run this institution has given him a very cocky approach to life.”

  No, really?

  “My brother’s son has always had an ego, always managed to stay ahead and be well-liked.

  I’m afraid his confidence has gotten him into a mess he may not be able to talk himself out of.”

  “Sir, I really don’t understand what this has to do with me,” I gently interrupted, eager for him to get on with it and tell me I could go back to class.

  He held up his hand, reminding me of the way Shane cut me off in the bathroom earlier. “It’s at Professor Coleman’s urging that I’m speaking to you in strictest confidence, Mr. Mitman. Things are very tricky where this is concerned, and this will very soon be taken out of my hands. I’ve made a deal with the authorities that I would handle this my way first, before they do their job. You see, if my nephew is arrested for carrying cocaine, it would cause quite a scandal for Whitley Preparatory. I’ve convinced the D.A. that if I can inform them of an accomplice, or perhaps a supplier among the student body, it will save a great deal of grief from the Board, and give my nephew the help he needs by means of rehabilitation.”

  He needs a lot more help than that, I thought to myself. “So what exactly do you want from me?”

  He leaned over the desk. “I’ve heard you’re getting awfully chummy with a few of Shane’s closest friends.”

  “I don’t see it that way.”

  “Evie Cunningham is working on a paper with you, is she not? And you were seen eating lunch with Shane’s friends yesterday. I’d say you’re in. Now, is there anything you might be willing to tell me?”

  My hands were coated in sweat. Oh, sure, I knew a lot, but was it safe to say so? Regardless of being head of the school, this man was Shane’s uncle. Did my own past experiences with Shane, combined with what Evie had just divulged in the library, count as safe? What if Evie found out that I spilled everything she’d just entrusted me with? She’d never forgive me, and it w
ould absolutely ruin all that’s just developed these last couple of days between us. But Shane hurt Evie, and if he was out of the way, getting help somewhere, then it would be worth it. I was teetering on the edge of what was right and what was wrong, moral and immoral, tattling or speaking out. So many people had been hurt by Shane, used by him, just so he could get what he wanted. Even if what he wanted was nothing more than a good laugh.

  It was wrong. They knew it. Evie knew it—and so did I.

  I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and told Headmaster Whitley and Professor Coleman everything I knew. I told them about the paper I saw at the library, about Ty, and about the deal

  I was cornered into this morning in the bathroom. The only detail I left out was that I was sure Shane had caused the terrible bruise Evie tried so hard to hide today. It was the one thing I would have chosen to spill first, but I knew Evie never would have wanted that. And I wanted to keep her out of this as much as I could.

  A brief flash of disgust and hurt flashed across the Headmaster’s eyes, while the rest of his face remained composed. I sank into the hard chair beneath me, suddenly wishing I could take back every single word. But it was too late. I had agreed to cooperate.

  I was in.

  Headmaster Whitley resumed his pacing, the lines in his forehead deepened as he proceeded to wear his carpet thin. “I happen to know there’s another party scheduled for this weekend. There seems to be a lot of these lately.”

  My surprise must have stopped him mid-thought.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Mitman, I’m quite aware of what goes on in and out of school.”

  “Do you think this is wise?” chimed the reluctant voice of Professor Coleman, speaking up for the first time since setting foot inside the office.

  “It’s not only wise, but absolutely necessary. Chase?”

  He stared down at me again. I had unexpectedly switched from the accused to the accessory in a matter of minutes. I leaned my head down and thought long and hard. When I finally looked up, Headmaster Whitley’s blue eyes no longer appeared so cold and intimidating. They looked hopeful. I suppose this was why I ended up agreeing to go through with the plan.