by Nancy Werlin
* * *
The shortcut had always been safe. As she raced there, Lacey spared a moment for mourning. The shortcut would never be the same again, she knew. Catrine had ruined it. Ruined it for all of them.
Desperately, now, she wished she’d warned her earlier, after lunch. She could have, if she’d tried. Lacey had been yards away, but a gap in the crowd had let her see Catrine clearly. Catrine, in her thick makeup, wearing a short, tight skirt that defiantly displayed her gorgeous legs. She had a yogurt container in her left hand. And in her right she’d been clutching—a pencil. Maybe the pencil. Sharp, pointed.
Useless.
Yes, Lacey should have pushed her way through the crowd and warned Catrine then. She should have taken the risk of talking to her in public. It would have been better. It would have been safer than this.
Lacey prayed as she ran. Her book bag bounced against her side. Maybe Catrine wouldn’t be there yet; maybe she could ask Quentin or Saul or the twins to pass on the message for her. Assuming they were there. Then Lacey herself could go home the long way, which was now safer than the shortcut—
Lacey stopped dead. The lump in her throat re-expanded. A few yards away, at the very top of the slope where the shortcut began, in plain sight of the school, stood Catrine. She was just . . . standing there.
Then she was looking straight at Lacey. Frowning a little. And, Lacey now saw, fat Quentin DeSantos was standing right next to her.
Odd. Lacey didn’t think she’d seen Catrine and Quentin even speak before. All of the shortcutters—except of course the Umanitas—had always done the shortcut on their own. They weren’t friends. They weren’t a group. Each of them was alone.
Well, it wasn’t Lacey’s concern. Will Brennerman, his friends—they were a group. And they’d be in the woods somewhere, waiting. Or maybe they were coming this way now. Whichever, she needed to warn Catrine and then get away from here. She took the last few steps that brought her face to face with Catrine. She opened her mouth—
“What the hell are you doing here?” said Catrine.
Lacey hated Catrine again, suddenly, virulently. She gritted her teeth. Too bad. She’d come here to warn her, and she would. “Listen. I wanted to tell you that I—I heard something—”
“Me too,” interrupted Catrine. Her voice was almost bored. “I hear a lot. Get out of here, Lacey. Take the long way today. Go.”
The long way? Did Catrine know? But if she did, what was she doing here? She ought to take the long way herself! “Catrine —”
“Yes,” interrupted Quentin DeSantos. Oddly, his voice was suddenly almost gentle. “You should go now, Lacey.”
Puzzled, Lacey gave him a glance. Was there something different about him? It didn’t matter. There wasn’t time. She turned quickly back to Catrine and found she couldn’t quite meet her eyes. It didn’t matter. She spoke rapidly. “I’ll go in a minute, okay? But first I just need to make sure you know not to take the shortcut today. I heard—I heard that Will Brennerman and some of his friends might—might be waiting for you.” Lacey swallowed. There. She’d said it.
She dared to look at Catrine. Catrine’s awful face was blank, expressionless. Not horrified; not surprised; not frightened. Or maybe that was the makeup. Well, fine. Lacey didn’t need thanks. She took a step back, away. She turned.
And nearly collided with big Saul Blum. “Sorry,” he mumbled. It was the first word Lacey had ever heard him utter. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Against her will, she turned halfway back to watch incredulously as Saul walked right up to Catrine and said something else, something Lacey couldn’t hear.
And then stood on Catrine’s other side.
Three. Three of them now, three complete losers standing in plain view of anyone who might come along. And planning—what? To walk the shortcut together?
Did they think that would help? Had Quentin and Saul lost their minds? This was Will Brennerman! Three losers couldn’t win against him, against all of Them. No matter how strong Saul was. Lacey knew. She knew; she had been one of the Them. Once.
She had to get out of here, had to—
Why couldn’t she move?
The Umanita twins brushed by Lacey. She wasn’t surprised to see them. One of them said to her, uncertainly, “Lacey, are you, um, you know that Catrine needs . . . ?” She ignored the words. Suddenly Lacey hated the twins too. No matter what, they had each other.
They were looking at her now, all five of them. There was a question on every face except Catrine’s. And meanwhile Lacey couldn’t help it, she stared back. Her heart pumped wildly. She needed to leave.
The cupcakes. Lacey—Lacey had laughed. And Catrine had cried, and cried, and cried.
She wasn’t crying now. She was staring at Lacey. She said, again, “Go, Lacey. Go.” It was a command.
But Lacey couldn’t seem to move. She wet her lips. She whispered, “What are you doing? What are you planning?”
One of the Umanitas spoke up then. Josie. You could tell from her voice, which was . . . almost kind. “We’re taking the shortcut, Lacey. Like we always do. That’s all.”
“But,” Lacey said feebly. “But they’ll be waiting . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“We know,” said Saul Blum.
“We’re ready,” said Quentin DeSantos.
There was a little silence.
“Go, Lacey,” said Catrine again. “Go. Be safe.” Now, for some reason, she didn’t sound angry. For a minute Lacey didn’t recognize the emotion in her voice. And then, suddenly, she did.
It was pity.
Lacey’s face flamed. Pity! She couldn’t stand it. Pity! After what she’d done, coming here, warning Catrine! Risking . . .
She turned sharply and began walking away. She kept her back perfectly straight. She would be safe. Unlike them. And she wouldn’t be pitied! She wouldn’t be pitied by that loser, that—that ugly—
She swallowed. That—that—that—
That brave, smart girl.
Those loyal, kind outcasts.
Abruptly, Lacey stopped walking. Her body, her entire brain, froze. And then . . .
We know.
We’re ready.
It was as if she had woken up from a deep, poisoned sleep. Woken with knowledge. She clutched at her own arms. For a second she thought she would fall over. She had been blind. Blind, and stupid. She had understood nothing.
But now she did. Now she knew why the shortcut had been safe. And she knew something else, too: They had let her use the shortcut.
They had let her be safe. When Rhonda had told everyone Lacey’s most intimate fears; when Rhonda had labeled Lacey a pathetic, clingy loser; when, overnight, and for no reason except to feed Rhonda’s feeling of power, Lacey’s life had changed completely—they had given her one small place of safety.
It couldn’t be too late. She whirled around again to face the shortcut.
The other five had started down into the ravine. Josie had already disappeared from sight. And Saul, nearly. It was now or never, Lacey knew. Her heart was in her mouth. Now or never.
“Wait!” she called. Then again, more urgently: “Wait! Catrine! Saul! Quentin! Josie! Joey!”
For a moment she thought they wouldn’t respond. But then they turned back. Five pairs of eyes looked at Lacey across the distance between them.
Cautiously, she took a step forward. Then another, until she was almost directly in front of them. She fixed her eyes on Catrine’s, and then moved them to each of the others’ in turn. At last she returned her gaze to Catrine. She swallowed.
“Can I come?” Lacey asked. Her voice didn’t crack after all. But she was caught off guard by the naked need that even she could hear in it. So she had to swallow again before she could add, strongly, and with all her heart:
“Please.”
THE END
About the Story “Shortcut”
by Nancy Werlin
Nancy Werlin’s story “Shortcut”
was partly inspired by a personal experience. When she was in eighth grade and taking a shortcut through the woods, she overheard a girl from her neighborhood making vicious fun of a classmate. This was repeated for days. “I didn’t want any trouble for myself, so I kept my mouth shut,” she confesses. Not only did she feel ashamed of her silence, she says, but she also was surprised when a boy whom she thought little of spoke up in defense of the boy who was being harassed. “I’ve never forgotten that day and what I learned about myself,” Werlin says. “It was a trigger for change in me.”
About the Author
Nancy Werlin is the author of several young adult novels, including the fantasy novels Extraordinary and Impossible (a New York Times bestseller), the science fiction novel Double Helix, the suspense thrillers The Killer’s Cousin (winner of the Edgar award), Locked Inside (an Edgar award nominee), and Black Mirror, and the realistic novels Are You Alone on Purpose and The Rules of Survival (a National Book Award finalist). She also writes short stories and essays.
For more information on Nancy and her books, visit Nancy’s web site at https://www.nancywerlin.com, and friend her on Facebook.
About the Cover
The cover of this ebook shows a picture of the author, Nancy Werlin, that has been photo-manipulated to resemble an illustration.
Copyright
“Shortcut” copyright 2001 by Nancy Werlin.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Publication History
This short story originally appeared in the short story collection On the Fringe, edited by Don Gallo, published 2001 by Dial Books, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.
Licensing
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.