The girl in the video looked down and started unbuttoning her shirt. Then it hit me.
"Shut it off!" I yelled, bolting out of my chair. The audience gasped. Sasha started crying hysterically. To everyone else, my outburst and her crying seemed like my admission of guilt. The devotion of my supporters plummeted, as the signs proclaiming my innocence inched down and disappeared from sight. A chilling silence fell over the crowd.
I looked out over the auditorium and saw the Bitch Brigade sitting in the front row smiling. They were enjoying my torment. I so wanted to expose them for what they really were. I wanted to spit out everything they had done to people at Bridgeton and explain what really took place in that video. But I knew I couldn't do that. Our 'Get Out of Venton Heights' plan depended on what I chose to do next.
I turned my focus away from the Bitch Brigade and found Will's ashen white face. I couldn't tell whether he wanted to vomit or cry or both. This had to feel like the ultimate betrayal to him, after I had just assured him last night that nothing happened between me and David.
I looked over at Sasha, who held her face in her hands as her shoulders shook with sobs. And though I loved them both, I knew what I had to do. And I had to do it soon. Any second, someone could have realized the girl in the video was Sasha and not me.
"Young lady, do you have something to say?" Headmaster Collins barked at me.
I nodded as I wiped my sweaty hands on my green plaid skirt. Then I shrugged with doubt. Where would I find the courage to take the blame for my sister's cheating? What would Will think of me? The answers really didn't matter. I had to do it. I looked to Will, then Sasha, then Will. I mouthed "I'm sorry" to Will then said to Headmaster Collins, "I'm guilty." It wasn't a complete lie. I did feel guilty. I felt guilty for ever lusting after that sleaze David Winthrop especially while I was with Will. And I felt guilty for what my sister had apparently been driven to do. I should have paid more attention to her. I should have realized no one could work as hard as she did without breaking at some point.
Sasha screamed 'no' and ran over to me.
"Don't do this," she sobbed as she embraced me. "I can fix it. Let me fix it. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."
Headmaster Collins said something about me being expelled from school and ordered me to leave campus immediately, but Sasha wouldn't let me go. They had to pull her off of me as she yelled, "No, not my sister, please, no!"
I wasn't even allowed time to clean out my locker. Mr. Hayden, the assistant head of school, escorted me off campus. As the main gate slammed shut behind me, so did all my dreams for a bright future.
Chapter 23:
Trapped
Believe it or not, I didn't cry. Maybe the shock of the situation had temporarily clogged my tear ducts. Or, maybe, I thought I'd dreamt the whole thing. It didn't really happen. I dreamt it. I tried to convince myself as I stood on the corner and looked at my school. Then, I looked down at my ballet pink tights and my green plaid skirt. Why did I wear these tights? Oh, yeah, I'd decided to take a page out of Will's book. I thought they'd be good luck. So much for that. I had to breathe deeply to keep from hyperventilating. I turned my back to Bridgeton, my past, my former school, and I walked.
I rationalized the situation as I found my way to the bus stop. Okay, I was expelled from Bridgeton, but it wasn't that bad, right. I wanted to be a dancer. I didn't need to graduate from Bridgeton in order to be a dancer. But Sasha, yes, she needed a Bridgeton diploma in order to go to Princeton. So, yes, I did the right thing. I couldn't let anyone find out it was her on that tape.
So, why did I feel so awful? I did the right thing. I did the right thing. No matter how many times I said it, it didn't feel right. No one at Bridgeton would ever look at me the same, including Will. I had to talk to him. Maybe if I told him the truth…no, I couldn't do that. He'd tell Headmaster Collins and get Sasha expelled. Maybe if I just told him that I was sorry and I loved him, maybe he'd forgive me.
I found a payphone and dialed his cell number.
"Maddox," he answered.
"Will, baby, please listen to - "
"I feel like an idiot. You're a whore and I never want to see you again." Then he hung up on me.
The full impact of the trial, Bridgeton, losing Will and saving Sasha didn't hit until I sat on my bed at home. I had sacrificed my education, my boyfriend, and my future.
So, then, I cried. I cried painful, violent, heart-twisting tears. I cried until I could cry no more; until my throat sealed dry and tight and my eyes wouldn't stay open of their own volition. Then sleep came to swallow me whole, but brought me no relief since I dreamt of Will. Even in my dream, he didn't want me anymore.
"Why did you do it?" Sasha asked when she came home and woke me from my fitful slumber.
"Why did I do it?" I asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of my red swollen eyes. "I didn't have a choice. I couldn't let them find out it was you. You would've had your acceptance to Princeton revoked." Sasha sat down on the bed and placed her face in her hands.
"I ruined your life, didn't I?"
"How could you cheat, Sasha? How could you risk everything on a stupid little Spanish test?" For the first time, the tables had turned. It wasn't Sasha scolding me for saying something stupid or failing a test. This time, I reprimanded her.
"I don't know how it happened. It was a moment of weakness. I was really stressed out and I didn't have time to study and I just thought of it as a little study aid." Sasha buried her face in her hands and cried. It seemed like her eyes hadn't healed since her last breakdown.
"And then you slept with him to cover it up?"
"I would've done anything to protect us from something like this. I never thought you'd get dragged into it. I still don't know why he took you down instead of me." Sasha wiped tears from her eyes and tried to gain some composure.
"Maybe he really can't tell us apart," I said, even though I knew the real reason. Since I had just shown the entire Bridgeton community what I looked like in my underwear, I'm sure people easily imagined I'd do something as sleazy as sleep with David to cover up an honor violation. No one would even believe Sasha could do such a thing. By accusing me instead of Sasha, the Bitch Brigade finally got their revenge. They had me right where they wanted. They knew no matter what I did, I would lose. If I didn't take the blame and let my sister get expelled, I would've felt just as bad.
"What are we gonna do?" she asked, flopping backwards on her bed. "I can't let you take the fall for me."
"What's done is done. It's over." I sighed.
"No, don't say that. I can fix this. Maybe I can talk to David and get him to take it all back." She stood up excitedly as a plan started to form in her mind.
"It doesn't matter. I already confessed. Even if David took it back, I still committed an honor violation by saying I cheated when I didn't." She sat back down and mulled this over. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a roach making its way across our bedroom wall. A surge of anger flowed through me. Suddenly, I hated those roaches as much as Sasha, maybe more. It was this place, this apartment, this neighborhood, these roaches, that had put us in the position we were now in. Sasha's determination to make a better life for us had forced her into a dead end path for which there was no escape. We were trapped. I picked up a lamp and flung it against the wall, demolishing the roach and the lamp.
"What are you doing?" Sasha yelled, as she covered her head with her arms.
"It's better this way. You deserve Princeton. You've worked too hard for anything less. At least one of us needs to get out of here." Sasha came over to my bed and hugged me.
"I'll never leave you behind. I'll figure something out.”
It was better this way I decided. I wasn't as smart as Sasha. She deserved her shot at an Ivy League education. She shouldn't have that taken away from her because of one moment of weakness. I, on the other hand, had options. I just wanted to dance. I didn't need a high school diploma for that. Or so I thought.
Chapter 24:
Sweet Release
"What the hell were you thinking?" my mother asked, slamming a jar of peanut butter on the counter. I had just given her a short summary of the honor trial, leaving out the minor detail that I was completely innocent. If she knew the truth, she'd take matters into her own hands and talk to Headmaster Collins herself.
"I guess I wasn't really thinking." I hung my head low afraid of making eye contact with her. One look at me and she'd see I was lying.
"Damn straight you weren't. Cheating? And on a Spanish test? Sonya, that's just not like you. You're fluent in Spanish." My mother fell silent for a moment as she went back to preparing her lunch for work. I thought maybe she was starting to put things together. My pulse quickened. What if she figured out the truth on her own? But then she said, "I bet it was because of dance. I bet you were so busy practicing that you didn't have time to study so you felt you had to cheat."
I nodded numbly. I hated that she blamed it on dance, but what could I say. I swallowed my pride and accepted I would just have to let her think that. It was the only way Sasha could go to Princeton.
My mother put her peanut butter and jelly sandwich into a baggie then crammed it into her purse. Without another word, she headed to the door on her way to the hospital for a twelve hour shift. Before leaving she paused and said, "I'm so disappointed in you. Why can't you be more like Sasha?"
Angry tears stung behind my eyes, but I remained strong. As long as I got into DiRisio, everything would be okay. In a few months, I'd be living in Rome and starting my fantastic, limitless future. Then my mother wouldn't see me as a failure anymore. All would be forgotten.
Another part of my determination to get into DiRisio could have been the fact that I knew Will would be in Rome. Maybe a part of me believed that we could rekindle our relationship in a foreign, romantic city.
I missed him so much. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since the honor trial. He never called or came to the studio or showed any kind of sign that he wanted to ever see or speak to me again. I couldn't blame him. I would've been devastated if I had seen a video of him having sex with someone else. Although a part of me wished that he'd realize it wasn't me. I wished somehow he could look inside his heart and realize that I'd always be true to him.
I tried to call him every day from different numbers, but he always hung up once he heard my voice. Sometimes I imagined he was watching me through the window like he used to before we knew each other. I thought I saw him walk past the studio one day and I ran out after him. But once I got outside, he was nowhere to be found. Finally, three days before the audition, I decided I couldn't take it anymore and I went to his house.
"What are you doing here?" he asked when he opened the door. Surprisingly, he seemed more shocked than angry.
"I needed to see you. I need to hear your voice. I need you." Will looked over his shoulder. "Is Julia home?" I asked.
"No, she's…um doing community service. Part of her probation for the DUI."
"Can I come in?"
"Uhh…I don't think that's a good idea." Will stepped through the door and closed it behind him. Without thinking, I lunged forward and hugged him tightly. He didn't return the embrace. "I'm so sorry, I hurt you, Will. I'll do anything if you just forgive me. I love you." My tears soaked his shirt. Will buried his face in my hair. He pulled away from me and gently wiped my tears with his fingertips. I thought for a moment I had won him back. But then, the door opened and the devil herself walked through.
"Will? What are you - …Oh, it's you," Ashley Carter sneered. She possessively wrapped her arms around Will's waist and said, "Are you crying again? I swear to God you have absolutely no backbone whatsoever." She let go of Will's waist and took a step forward causing me to step back. "You were such an easy target," she said blowing her rum laden breath in my face. Or it could have been whiskey, vodka or tequila. How should I know? But I did know I was tired of being a target. I no longer wanted to be the victim. I needed to stand up for myself and fight back.
My first punch landed right below her left eye and sent her reeling to the ground. I jumped on top of her and continued my assault on her face. I never imagined what a sweet release it would be to feel my fist make contact with her white, rich, snotty, over-privileged face.
Will came behind me and lifted me up as Ashley tried to stand and retreat. He restrained my arms preventing me from throwing another punch, but he failed to realize my legs were even more of a weapon. I kicked and flailed my legs landing several more blows to her face.
"My nose! I think she broke my nose!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.
"Ashley, get in the house!" Will yelled, still restraining me. Ashley ran inside, flinging the door shut behind her.
"Who's crying now, bitch?" I screamed after her. "Let me go, Will. Let me go." I scrambled free and lunged for the door, but he grabbed me again.
"What has gotten into you?" he asked, pulling me away from his front door and toward the street.
"What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you?" I panted using all my strength to escape his grasp. "How could you go back to her? After all she did to me, how could you?" I shoved him so hard he stumbled backward a little. "You're such a hypocrite. I hate you. I hate you!" I punched him in the chest over and over.
Will grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. He stared deep into my eyes and breathed in sharply like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He looked at his house then at me. Then he closed his eyes, released me, and said, "I think you should go."
The fire that grew inside me from watching Ashley with my man blazed as I stormed away from Will's house.
The next thing I knew I was on Emmaline Graham's doorstep. It was time we had a little chat.
Chapter 25:
Ballerina Girl
Somehow, I had to accept the fact that Will and I were over. He was only my first boyfriend. There would be other boys, right? Probably not. I don't know why, but for some reason men never really showed an interest in me. I never got cat calls when I walked through Venton Heights and besides Will, no boy had ever asked me out. From fifth to eighth grade, Tyrell Fitts gave me cards on Valentine's Day and my birthday, but other than that he barely spoke to me. I didn't even think he knew my name. On the few occasions he did talk to me, he called me Ballerina Girl. In any case, at the end of eighth grade, when LaPorscha got pregnant with his baby, the cards stopped. I guess he figured it wasn't right to send one woman cards when another was about to have his child.
Maybe I was just too weird. Maybe I just bored people too much with all my talk of dance and Russian ballerinas. I shouldn't have even worried about it. I should've just been happy that I didn't get hit on by strange men all the time. I should have realized how lucky I was in that regard.
"Hey pretty lady," a man said to me as I was walking home one night. I ignored him and kept walking. Once again I had missed all the buses and Sasha was at a party or something. I wasn't quite sure. It was hard for me to keep up with her these days. With graduation a week away, I guess she was really busy.
"Don't be so stuck up. I just wanna talk to ya. I thought I knew all the pretty ladies 'round here." An unshaven man of about thirty with missing teeth stepped in front of me forcing me to stop. "I'm Rayshon," he said leaning in closer. His breath smelled like a mixture of marijuana and alcohol. It was foul. I tried to step around him, but he blocked my path. "Ain't you gonna tell me yo name before you go?" I turned and walked in the other direction. In three steps he was in front of me again.
I looked around into the darkness of my neighborhood. My apartment was still two blocks away and no one was outside. Why did I keep walking through this place alone and at night? Why didn't I just stay the night at the studio?
I turned again and walked quickly towards my apartment. My heart raced and I could feel a lump developing in my throat soon to be followed by uncontrollable tears. Rayshon grabbed my arm and said, "I just wanna talk to ya. Where ya goin'?"
&nbs
p; "Let go of me!" I yelled as I flung my dance bag at him with all my might. Rayshon gripped me tighter. I closed my eyes and tried to squirm away from him. Then I heard a click and Rayshon instantly let go of me.
"The only reason you're not dead already is because I don't want to get blood on my friend," Tyrell said calmly as he pointed a gun at Rayshon's temple.
"Yo, Boo Man, I-"
"Shut up." Tyrell pushed Rayshon away from me with the barrel of his gun. "This is how this is going to work. You are never gonna touch her again. You're never gonna look at her or even speak her name. If you do, I'll go to your home, kill your mother, your father, your grandmother, your aunts, uncles and cousins," he said in an eerie matter of fact manner. "But I won't stop there. I'll wait a few years. Let your children have children. I'll kill them. Then I'll come for you. Do I make myself clear?" My assailant nodded his head furiously. I think he might have wet his pants. "Get out of here before I change my mind and empty my clip into the side of your head right now." After Rayshon scurried away, Tyrell said to me, "You alright, Ballerina Girl?" I didn't respond. I was in shock. Tyrell tucked his gun into the back of his pants then held out his arms to me. I buried my face in his chest and tried to gain control of my breathing. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," he said as he held me securely to him.
The Queen Bee of Bridgeton Page 14