This Year at Home (A Short Story)

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This Year at Home (A Short Story) Page 2

by Sarah Bridgeton


  Derrick, who was twice my size, knocked my books out of my arms. “Give me that!”

  I held onto my phone and pointed it at him. “I told Derrick not to call me Pugly twice. He’s still doing it, and his friends are laughing.”

  Derrick’s friends froze. Emmy, who was almost my height, kicked at my hand. Her black miniskirt rode up, exposing too much leg. Realizing her underwear was about to be on display, she pulled down on her skirt and lost her balance. Her ballerina flats hit the air and missed my phone.

  Derrick grabbed at my phone. “Drop it!”

  “No!” I switched it to my other hand.

  Emmy kicked again and hit my hand.

  My phone dropped.

  I bent down to pick it up, but Grace—who was next to Emmy—snatched my phone like a vulture seizing a fresh kill.

  “Pugly,” Derrick said as if nothing had happened.

  “Give me my phone back!”

  Derrick barked again.

  My arm swung up, and a crack sounded.

  His face turned radish red.

  Did I just do that? My hand was shaking.

  Derrick seemed to be in shock. While the redness faded, there was still a small splotch on his cheek. He stood there in silence, waiting for something to happen.

  “Damn, Derrick. She slapped you! You got smacked by a girl!” It was the same boy who had worn the baseball cap during the driveway incident at my house. The incident Mom witnessed, after the first harassment complaint.

  Emmy scowled at me. “You weren’t doing anything wrong, Derrick. You were just walking down the hall when she went psycho.”

  “What’s going on here?” Mrs. Walker had taught Freshman Biology for the past five years. “Why is there a crowd?”

  A small crowd had formed behind Mrs. Walker, their heads craning outside the classroom door to catch a glimpse of the commotion.

  “Nothing,” Derrick answered.

  “We were just walking down the hall when she freaked out,” Emmy piped in.

  “I didn’t freak out.” I steadied my voice. “They were calling me names.”

  “We weren’t,” Derrick said. “We wouldn’t do that. She’s lying because she hit me.”

  I kept my eyes on Mrs. Walker. “Grace has my phone. It has a video of Derrick harassing me. They knocked it out of my hands.”

  “Is that true, Grace?” Mrs. Walker asked. “Teasing is against our no-tolerance policy, as is hitting.”

  Grace didn’t say anything. She looked to Emmy, her forehead slightly creased. I knew that look. Grace was my ex-best friend.

  I eyed Grace’s hands. They were empty!

  I scanned the crowd for some sign of my phone. Paige was watching Derrick and Grace, her eyes squinted in disgust. What a dummy I was, for assuming Paige and the other kids didn’t care.

  “Grace, answer me,” Mrs. Walker said. “Class is about to begin.”

  Nobody said anything.

  “Then go to the office. Derrick, Emmy, Grace.” She pointed to me. “Rebecca, you too.”

  Mrs. Walker looked past me. “And you, behind her, did you see what happened?”

  Somebody was behind me? I hadn’t heard anyone there.

  “I did,” said a low voice. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  “What is your name?” Mrs. Walker asked.

  “Collin Meyers,” he said. “I’m a senior.”

  I turned around. It was locker guy. His green eyes met mine, and I couldn’t look away. Did he see me get ragged on?

  The bell rang.

  Mrs. Walker handed him hall passes. “Thank you, Collin. Go straight to the office.”

  Emmy tossed her blond hair, eyeing Derrick. Derrick aligned himself next to her; they stepped over my books, and began to walk. Grace paused for a moment then followed them.

  Collin picked up my books and handed them to me.

  “Thank you.”

  He shrugged, as if he hadn’t done anything special.

  The old me would have died of embarrassment. Hope sputtered inside the new me’s heart. He might be willing to back up my harassment complaint.

  The hallway got quiet as classroom doors shut. I had to talk to Grace. She was my only chance for tangible evidence. I took off, picking up my pace, until I caught up to her. Collin kept up with me. Several steps ahead, Derrick and Emmy were whispering.

  “Grace.” I kept my voice restrained. “Tell Principal Nelson what really happened. Show him the video on my phone.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Please, Grace.” I put more power behind my tone. “Don’t let me down again!”

  “Emmy,” she called out.

  Emmy and Derrick stopped and turned around. Derrick folded his arms across his chest while Emmy glared at me. Grace hustled up and caught up to them. She reached into her jeans pocket, took out my phone, and gave it to Emmy.

  Emmy immediately turned her back, and Derrick said, “You’re going down.”

  “No, she’s not,” Collin answered. “I saw you taunt her.”

  My heart ballooned into my throat. Nobody had been willing to back up my original harassment complaint. Principal Nelson had asked me for a list of witnesses. I gave him a list of names, but everybody lied for Derrick.

  Derrick shook his head. “I was barking at Emmy. We have this inside joke. I called her Pugly, like I’ve been doing for years, and she thinks it’s funny. Rebecca’s paranoid, thinks the joke is about her. Then today, she hit me, for no reason at all. Who knows what she’ll do next?”

  Collin curled his lip. “You stole her phone.”

  Emmy turned around to see if she heard him correctly. Grace flushed while Emmy looked Collin over, lingering a little too long on his shoulders.

  Collin kept his eyes on Derrick. “Mess with her, and you’ll be sorry.”

  “Come on, Derrick.” Emmy linked her arm with Grace. “We’ll tell what happened. Everybody knows Rebecca is deranged.”

  Hitting Derrick had been a major mistake. People would think I was mental and possibly dangerous.

  “They’ll tell about the slap,” I muttered. “I’ll be on trial.”

  “How do you know?” Collin turned to me, his gaze intense.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” I reasoned. “Hitting is an automatic suspension.”

  “Deny it.”

  “Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but lying is too hard to keep up.” I had spun enough lies in Israel to know it wasn’t worth it. Eventually I’d get caught up in a huge web that would be too suffocating.

  I started walking again.

  Derrick, Emmy, and Grace were out of sight. They were probably already in the office, setting up their bogus story.

  Collin trailed me. “It’ll be his word against yours. Who’s more believable? Some jerk, or a pretty girl?”

  I stopped, appreciating his compliment. “He’s got Emmy and Grace. They’re pretty.”

  “The blonde’s vicious,” Collin said. “That’s not hot.”

  It dawned on me. He was a new student and had no idea who he was dealing with. “Derrick and Emmy can be convincing. Somebody will back them up.”

  “Dunno. Somebody might want to see Derrick get what he has coming.”

  I paused, not wanting to get into my history. “Just tell the truth. I can deal with it.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t deal with it.”

  But could I? I’d be suspended, and my transcript ruined. And Derrick would become sneakier.

  “Play the game his way,” Collin said. “He’ll leave you alone.”

  “What makes you so sure? He didn’t stop after I recorded him.”

  Collin’s lips thinned. “Do something he understands. He understands lying.”

  “It sounds warped, but if I admit to what really happened, then it’s obvious I stood up for myself.” It wasn’t the strongest argument. But maybe I’d gain some respect.

  “What are you two doing in the hall?” It was one of the office assistants. S
he was holding the office door open. “Either come in or go to class.”

  I sighed. Collin looked as if he wanted to say more, and I wished we could continue our conversation.

  Inside the office, Derrick was nowhere to be seen—probably talking to Principal Nelson. Emmy and Grace were seated where Mom and I had been seated pre-fiasco.

  Emmy narrowed her eyes at me.

  I held her stare, then turned to Grace.

  Grace wouldn’t look at me. She kept her head down as she filled out the complaint form.

  The old me would have trembled with fear.

  They needed to know I wasn’t scared. Luckily, there was a side table between the chairs, so I didn’t have to sit next to Emmy or Grace. I gingerly plunked down my backpack and sat down.

  Collin took the seat next to me. The assistant handed us complaint forms. It was like the first encore, only this time, I wasn’t with Mom. The first time around, Mom had filled out the form. I had been too afraid. When she had insisted on walking into the office with me, I had been partially mortified but also relieved. I had been a mess during the interview several days later, struggling to speak and sick to my stomach, convinced I would get beaten up afterward.

  This time was already different. I knew I wasn’t powerless, and I turned my attention to the form, but I moved my arm to the side, so Collin could see what I was writing.

  My heart thumped wildly. Besides Collin, somebody else might back up my claim. Maybe Paige. I’d keep filing complaints till somebody did something. As I wrote, Collin began his form.

  No, I hadn’t changed my mind about the slap. Mom and Dad would defend me. They wouldn’t be pleased about the slap, but they knew what I was up against.

  I had nothing to hide, anyway. No hate list or attack plan.

  Grace coughed, and I cringed. It was hard to fathom how we used to be inseparable. It had been a friendship of convenience, between two girls at the same preschool, which had grown into birthdays, sleepovers, and lots of good times together.

  The office phone rang.

  I had to stop dwelling on Grace. She’d made her choice.

  Next to me, Collin was working on his form. He stretched his arms up, then cracked his thumb knuckle, and I glanced at his form. He had left the explanation section blank.

  I cleared my throat. My mind was made up. No matter how much it hurt me, I was gonna stick to the truth.

  He looked at me, and I mouthed “slap” to him. He nodded and started on the explanation section.

  “Rebecca.” It was the office assistant. “Principal Nelson will see you. I think you know which office is his.”

  I felt all eyes on me as I headed to Principal Nelson’s office. No doubt, Emmy and Grace were watching me. Collin, too.

  Principal Nelson didn’t get up from his desk when I came in. He glanced at me, frowning. “What happened? Derrick says you hit him.”

  I parked myself in a chair, took a deep breath, and began my side of the story.

  Chapter 2

  OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN WINDOW, A thick blanket of snow coated the ground. I watched the snowplow sweep our cul-de-sac, leaving a gauzy outline of the street. Yesterday already seemed like a lifetime ago. After I spoke to Principal Nelson, I had been ushered into another office, where I was guarded by an assistant while Derrick continued to be held in the vice principal’s office.

  Then Principal Nelson had a meeting with me, Derrick, and our parents. I was suspended for three days, but Derrick was, too.

  Derrick stuck to his bogus story. Naturally, his parents stood up for him, but I could tell from their stony looks at Derrick, they didn’t necessarily believe him.

  Mom glanced up from her iPad. “All that hype for four inches of snow. Can you empty the dishwasher?”

  I opened the dishwasher. “When is Dad coming over?”

  “Right now. He’s stopping to pick up dinner.” She sounded pleased. The two of them had gone to counseling while I was in Israel.

  It felt weird. Dad never came over for dinner, much less brought it over. If it was his night, I ate with him at his apartment. But my parents were making an effort to do more together as a family.

  As I put away the dishes, the doorbell rang, and Mom went to let Dad in.

  “No Facebook,” Mom called out from the foyer. “Not until this blows over.”

  I didn’t mind. I had suspended my social networking accounts after the first complaint. Too many funny-cruel posts. I had recently revived my Facebook account, but I wasn’t using it much. Mia, who had been my roommate in Israel, preferred to text. Jake and I had talked on the phone several times, but I rarely saw him online. He was too busy trying to figure out what to do with his life.

  The front door closed, and I heard Mom’s muffled voice. I liked that she and Dad were getting along much better lately, but I knew I shouldn’t get my hopes up for a full reconciliation.

  “Rebecca.”

  I recognized the soft voice.

  Grace?

  “Don’t freak, Rebecca,” the voice pleaded as it got closer.

  The scent of amber and citrus saturated the air. Grace had worn the same perfume for years.

  I should have turned around. It was the polite thing to do. But I couldn’t.

  “Your Mom said it was okay for me to come in,” Grace said. “I’m sorr—”

  “Sorry for what? Trying to ruin my life!” I picked up the sponge and squeezed it.

  “I turned in the video.”

  I turned around. Grace’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen.

  “You’re a little too late. It would have been helpful yesterday.”

  “Actually,” Grace said, “I turned it in yesterday, when I turned in the complaint form.”

  It didn’t make sense. “Emmy has my phone.”

  “She doesn’t. Principal Nelson has your phone. He didn’t tell you he had it.” Grace peered at me. “My mom called Principal Nelson, and he said he hasn’t shown the video to Derrick’s parents yet ’cause he thinks you’ll post it online. It’ll go viral, and Derrick will be bullied.”

  That sort of revenge was beyond me. As much as I hated Derrick, I would never wish being bullied on him.

  “Anyways,” Grace said. “He’s going to give you your phone back. He told my Mom he’s going to show it to Derrick’s parents.”

  “What about the phone you gave Emmy?”

  “It was mine. I got a new one for Christmas. Emmy hadn’t seen it yet. She thought it was yours.”

  “Oh, I see.” I sounded angry. Why? It was what I wanted, for Grace to be on my side.

  Her gaze pleaded with me for forgiveness. “I’m also sorry for what happened, before your—” She stopped short, not finishing, ‘suicide attempt.’

  She was asking a lot. She had been in on a prank, orchestrated by Derrick and Emmy, that involved a doctored photo of me. That prank had pushed me over the edge, into trying to kill myself.

  “I was relieved when you went away.” Grace’s voice cracked. “So I wouldn’t have to see you. Because every time I saw you, it reminded me of what we did to you, and what an awful person I was.”

  Relief ran through me; she was owning up to her role. But she was asking for an easy pardon for something she hadn’t been forced to participate in. Why should she be forgiven?

  Grace sniffled. “I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Unforgiving was not a word that described me. But the hurt from being bullied was still there, and the negativity surrounding it was like a piranha. Did I want it to gnaw at me forever?

  Tears trickled out of Grace’s eyes, streaking her face.

  How much longer did I want her to be stuck with an awful person complex? That was quite a load of baggage. Forgiving her wouldn’t be easy. She had backstabbed me.

  But that was last year. I had gotten over the past, over my suicide attempt. Wasn’t it fair for her to do the same?

  “I… I forgive you.” There, I said it, and the negativi
ty trickled away. We could move on.

  Grace took a tissue from her jeans pocket. “Do you think we could be friends again?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  She blotted her eyes. “I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see. I’ll prove how sorry I am. You should know I gave Collin your home phone number. I told him how I used to be your best friend and how bad I felt about backstabbing you. He knows I turned in your phone.”

  “Really?” Talking about Collin was a good diversion. It lifted the heaviness in the air.

  “He asked for it,” Grace offered, as if it were a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day. “Said you hadn’t replied to his Facebook friend request.”

  “I’m not allowed online for a while.” My voice was flat with confusion, confusion over Grace. I hadn’t thought she was sorry. She had avoided me after my suicide attempt. Then she let me down when I gave Principal Nelson her name as a witness for the first complaint. I hadn’t been able to look at her after the complaint was dismissed.

  Grace turned away from me; her shoulders tensed. After years of being bullied, she had been the one friend who had stood by me. I had been naïve until she backstabbed me.

  The situation was different now. I was stronger. Nobody had emotional power over me.

  Grace nodded but didn’t turn around. Instead, she bolted to the living room.

  “That was nice of you,” I tried again, in a softer voice, as I ran after her. “To give Collin my number.” I sounded sincere, and it lightened the mood.

  I sure was glad to see Mom in the living room. She was on the couch, pretending to be engrossed on her iPad.

  She looked up. “Everything okay, girls?”

  “Fine,” I answered. “Grace and I talked, and we’re okay.”

  Grace tugged on her jacket sleeve. She hadn’t taken off her ski jacket when she came in. “Yeah, we’re okay. Well, I better go. See you in school.”

  I stayed by the couch as Mom got up.

  “Take care, Grace.” Mom opened our front door. “Careful walking down the steps. They haven’t been shoveled yet.”

  Mom kept the door open.

  Grace put up her jacket hood, tucked in her long brown hair, and treaded carefully in her sheepskin boots. At the steps, she paused to grab onto the iron railing before venturing down, toe first.

 

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