by Amy Brown
“You fucking bitch,” he hisses the second I’m close enough.
Shock rolls through me at his vicious tone. He hasn’t talked or looked at me this way in a while. I have no idea what he’s upset about, and I scowl. “Excuse me?” After the stuff Sabrina said yesterday, if anyone should be upset, it’s me.
“You left a voicemail for Mr. Glenn telling him I make you uncomfortable?” His face is flushed and his eyes angry. “That I sexually harassed you?”
“What?” I scowl. What is he talking about?
“He called me into his office this morning to tell me he’ll no longer require my help tutoring students. He said you filed a complaint about me with him.”
My mouth falls open and I stare at him wordlessly.
“Why would you do that?” His eyes flare with resentment. “All I’ve done is help you and you do this shit to me?”
“I didn’t.” I wrinkle my brow. “I didn’t call Mr. Glenn.”
He curls his lip. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Mr. Glenn would never make that up.”
All I’ve done for most of the day is stress out about the horrible things he said about me to Sabrina. Now he’s going to try and accuse me of this bullshit? “What possible reason would I have to tell Mr. Glenn that?”
“Revenge.”
“For what?” I frown.
He pushes his face near mine. “You’re a snotty bitch. Who knows why you do anything?”
“You’re nuts,” I snap. “You’re the one who’s been an asshole since I met you.”
“Yeah, I’m the asshole who helped you with math.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Un-fucking-believable. What an ungrateful bitch.”
“I didn’t call Mr. Glenn,” I snap.
He continues talking as if I hadn’t spoken. “First you try to get me fired at the Christmas tree lot, and now you have Mr. Glenn thinking I’m a fucking pervert.” His jaw hardens. “You’re not gonna get away with this, bitch.”
“It wasn’t me who called Mr. Glenn.” I clench my fists, glaring at him. “Are you deaf?”
“You’re actually trying to say Mr. Glenn is lying?”
“No.” I grimace. Mr. Glenn must’ve gotten a phone call from someone, and obviously they were impersonating me. There’s only one person I can think of that vindictive, and that’s Sabrina. “Someone must have called him pretending to be me.”
He gives a hard laugh. “Seriously? That’s your defense? Why would anyone bother doing that?”
“Sabrina would do that. She hates me. You yourself said she’s jealous. She probably called him hoping to cause trouble.”
“That’s not possible. I drove Sabrina to school this morning because she had car trouble. Mr. Glenn said he got the call at 7:30 a.m. and Sabrina was with me then.”
If it wasn’t Sabrina who the hell would it have been? Maybe one of her cronies?
“I. Did. Not. Call. Him,” I say through gritted teeth. “It has to be Sabrina or one of her pals.”
His expression is full of disgust. “Stop trying to throw Sabrina under the bus just to save your own skin.”
“You know what, Palmer? Where do you get off lecturing me about my behavior? I know about all the lies you made up about me. It would serve you right if I did call Mr. Glenn and tell him you’re a sexual predator.”
Squinting at me, he says, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I hiss. Did he have mental issues? Was he making this whole thing up? Maybe nobody had called Mr. Glenn, and this was just more lies. If his goal was to make me out to be a crazy slut, perhaps this was just all part of the same plan. “Are you just trying to make a fool of me?”
“Am I trying to make a fool of you?” His voice goes up incredulously.
“Sabrina told me what you said,” I growl.
He cocked his head. “When did you talk to Sabrina?”
“What does it matter?” I grumble. “But I know now about all the stuff you say behind my back. You pretend to be such a nice guy helping me with my math, what a crock. Then you turn around and make up lies. You’re disgusting.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” He points his finger at me. “Just stay away from me. You’re the craziest bitch I’ve ever met, and I want nothing to do with you.”
I laugh sardonically. “Oh no. Whatever shall I do without an asshole like you in my life?”
He leans in, and snarls, “Good luck on your next math test, Adalee.” He shakes his head and walks away, mumbling under his breath. He doesn’t head in the direction of math class, instead he heads toward the parking lot.
I watch him go, shaking with anger. What the hell just happened?
Chapter Twelve
Palmer
I’m in shock that Adalee would’ve lied about me to Mr. Glenn. She must be evil beneath that angelic veneer. I can think of no reason why she would’ve done that to me. I’ve spent my evenings helping her, and this is how she repays me? Was this her plan all along? Reel me in by acting all innocent and helpless, just so she could get me alone and then make up stories about me? Had she pretended to forgive me for my earlier bullying behavior, but the whole time she’d planned vengeance?
I feel like an idiot. I’d actually started to like Adalee as a person. Obviously, I’d already been physically attracted to her, but I’d truly begun to connect with her personally. Now I feel disgusted with myself. How could I have been so blind? Sabrina had warned me not to trust her, I guess she’d been right.
Adalee was a good actress. She seemed truly mystified by why I was so upset with her. She should get an Academy award for that performance. She’d suckered me in big time. Was she even really bad at math? Maybe that it all been an act as well. Who the hell knew? With a bitch that conniving, anything was possible.
I need to figure out a way to get back at her. Mr. Glenn thinks I’m a sexual predator now, and I don’t know if I can persuade him she’s a liar. I’ve never done anything inappropriate with any of the students I helped. I feel sick thinking Mr. Glenn could believe that about me. Adalee must’ve been pretty damn convincing on the phone.
I’m so furious, I’d love to beat the bitch up, but I don’t want to get arrested for assault. There has to be something I can do to humiliate her, like she did me.
I know all the lies you made up about me.
What had she been implying? What lies? I never talked about her with my friends. My budding acquaintance with Adalee had seemed special enough, I hadn’t wanted to taint it by gossiping with Sabrina and her crowd. I’d said a few things to Rudy, but even he didn’t know how much I was beginning to like Adalee. Sabrina had been annoyed that I’d given up my free time to tutor Adalee. She’d tried to grill me about what we did during our tutoring sessions. She’d had it in her head Adalee was trying to seduce me.
How to get back at her? The problem with simply trying to bully Adalee is it won’t work. It’s easy to bully a person whose insecure or seems weak. Adalee is neither of those things. She’s quiet, but I’ve come to learn she has a will of iron. She isn’t easily cowed. She’s also gorgeous, so I can’t make fun of her physical attributes. No, to get at her I have to think outside the box.
If she drove her own car I could slash her tires or something. Unfortunately, her uncle always drives her to school. She always eats lunch with her friends, so that makes bullying her at lunchtime harder. I suddenly remember that night at the quarry. If she was there one time, she probably goes there on a regular basis.
I smile cruelly because I think I’ve figured out how to torment her. I’ll visit the quarry each night, and if she shows up, I’ll pounce. She has no idea that I was there that night. This could be fun. Terrifying the shit out of her will be enormously satisfying. I’ll make her think she’s going to die. That bitch deserves that after destroying Mr. Glenn’s respect for me. She’s trashed my reputation with the one teacher I truly liked. I’ll never forgive her for that. What a horrid bitch. She deserves everything I’m going to do to her.
****
>
It takes four nights of visiting the quarry before Adalee shows up. At school, we’ve avoided each other. I’ve studiously ignored her so she doesn’t see this coming. I was afraid maybe my expression would somehow give my evil plans away. She’s pretty good at reading people, which is how she probably was able to fool me so completely.
But she’s finally made an appearance, and I watch her make her way down to the water’s edge. The silence around the quarry is heavy, but there’s a slight breeze rustling the leaves. It’s eerie here at night, even I can admit that. That’s one reason my plan feels perfect. It’s so desolate here, it’s the perfect place for someone to attack another. I’m kind of surprised she comes here alone at night because, while it’s beautiful, it’s also spooky when you’re by yourself. I’m glad she so reckless because it’s given me an opportunity to humiliate her.
I’ve taken the time to cut two eyeholes in a knit cap. I want to scare her, but don’t want her to know it’s me. I pull the soft material down over my face, and creep down the slope toward her, taking great care not to be heard. She’s humming again, just like the last time, and I hide behind a Spruce Pine, peering at her through the needles. I feel like laughing because she’s so clueless about my presence.
I expect her to talk to her parents again, to tell them how she misses them. But when she speaks, even though she still addresses her parents, it’s as if she’s having a conversation with them about her love life instead. “Mom, I wish you were here to help me figure him out.”
Him? Him who?
“He can be so nice.” Her voice is hushed. “But he can also be so mean.”
I’m irrationally irritated that she’s talking about some other guy to her dead mother. Why do I care if she has the hots for some dude? I pity the poor fool if she gets her hooks in him.
“He doesn’t trust me,” she says softly. “And I don’t trust him.”
Is she talking about Dirk? I find that hard to believe because there’s nothing about Dirk not to trust. He’s like a big, good-natured Labrador puppy. I’ve always been annoyed by the way he hung around her, giving me dirty looks. But Dirk is the only guy she seems to spend any time with other than Luke. She must be talking about Dirk.
“I’m sure he knows what she’s doing too. Those disgusting pictures she draws in the bathroom of me, he probably thinks it’s hysterical.”
She’s not making any sense to me. I frown, trying to comprehend the meaning of what she’s saying.
“Fuck him,” she hisses.
Okay… there’s no way she’s talking about Dirk. Who then? From the level of her anger, I have a feeling she might be talking about me. This bitch is crazier than I even thought. She’s wandering around in the dark bitching about me to her dead mother?
She exhales roughly. “I don’t like being manipulated.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have lied about me to Mr. Glenn.” But I don’t want to give myself away. If she is talking about me, why is she acting upset about what happened between us, when she’s the reason we had a falling out? She should be on meds because her behavior is erratic. One minute she’s pretending to be an innocent angel, and the next she’s spreading disgusting lies about me. Remembering Mr. Glenn’s disappointment in me makes me furious. This bitch took away the one male role model I had in my life that I respected.
I bend down slowly and pick up a stone, I straighten, and when her back is to me, I throw it as hard as I can. The stone smashes into the trees on the other side of her, and she gasps and backs up toward me. I squelch my laugh, and pick up another stone.
“Who’s there?” she calls out. “Come out where I can see you.”
I pull my cell out of my pocket and start recording. When nobody responds to her demand, she must think it’s an animal because she starts walking toward where the sound came from. I’m surprised at how brave she is. She peers into the brush, her body tense.
“Is it just the castle cat?” She gives a nervous laugh.
I throw the other stone in a slightly different area, and she screams and runs back closer to me. I bite my lip to hold back my laughter. I reach up and shake a branch, causing swishing noises above her head. She gasps and looks up, cowering. I zoom my camera in on her face, so everyone at school will be able to see who it is ready to piss themselves with fear.
I expect her to run away, but instead she picks up a big branch and holds it like a baseball bat. Her eyes are wide and she circles, eyeing the trees suspiciously. She doesn’t speak, she’s listening. I can’t believe she isn’t just bolting for safety. I was looking forward to chasing her down. Nothing is as terrifying as hearing someone stomping behind you, getting closer and closer until you know you can’t escape. I’ve had that happen to me many a time with my dad. When your adversaries’ hands finally close around your shoulders, halting your escape, it’s gut wrenching. I want her to feel that fear. I want her to feel hopeless. Because I feel miserable whenever Mr. Glenn looks at me now. She ruined everything just because I wasn’t nice to her when we first met. Such a vindictive bitch.
I remember seeing and old episode of The Streets of San Francisco show once, where a serial killer taunted his victims by whispering “pretty girl” to them. I stifle a laugh, and prepare to chase her when she bolts. I open my mouth, and hiss loudly, “Pretty girl.”
She screams and takes off running. Grinning, I go after her, crashing through the underbrush and trying to make the chase as terrifying as possible. I grunt and snarl words that aren’t really words, simply so I’m more frightening. I can feel her terror radiating off of her as I bear down on her. She’s fast, graceful, and she zigzags trying to throw me off. I have to give her props for doing her best to escape. But it won’t do her any good, because I’m in much better shape from baseball. I catch up to her quickly, and could grab her, but I wait to snare her. I want to tire her out a little, so that she’ll have less fight in her.
I don’t want her to run too far, or we won’t have the privacy I need to exact my revenge. There’s a shallow cave to the north of the quarry, most people don’t even know about because it’s hidden in the hill side. That’s where I plan on taking her to terrorize her. I’m not actually going to hurt her, I’m not actually a murderous psycho, but she won’t know that. She fucked with my life, and now I’m gonna fuck with hers. She obviously had no idea the depths of my cruelty when pushed. She never should’ve poked the bear.
When I finally grab hold of her shoulders, and yank her back against me, she tries to scream. I cover her mouth with my gloved hand, and drag her back in the direction she came. She fights, scratching and kicking. I have to stop from laughing because she obviously thinks this is a struggle for her life. I should probably feel guilty about terrifying her so much, but then I think about how she tried to get me fired at the Christmas tree lot, and how she branded me as sexual predator to Mr. Glenn.
She’s pretty strong for a slender young girl, but she’s no match for me. Eventually she’s exhausted, and she goes limp. I drag her up the slope toward the cave, being careful not to fall. I don’t actually want either of us to get hurt during this teaching moment. But she needs to know she can’t fuck with me without retribution. I’ve been way too soft on her. From the beginning I let my attraction to her control me, but no more.
When we reach the small cave, I push her none too gently onto the ground, and she falls on her butt with a loud grunt.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers. “Please.”
I don’t respond, I simply stand over her, hoping I look threatening. I hold my phone up and continue recording her. This should be good and embarrassing when it finally gets out. I’m hoping she’ll beg for her life some more. What could be more delightful?
“Why are you recording this?” Her voice trembles.
I deepen my voice is much as possible, hoping the mask will also muffle the sound to where she can’t recognize it. “Memories.”
She swallows loudly,
and I almost burst out laughing. This is beautiful. She’s terrified. I probably have scared her enough, but I’m not ready to let her out of it this easy. No, with a will as strong as hers, she needs to be broken more thoroughly. Otherwise, this bitch might try to get back at me. I want her to learn a lesson tonight. Don’t fuck with Palmer Jackson. Ever.
She shivering and I don’t think it’s just from the cold. I walked back and forth, as if I’m agitated. In reality, it’s just an act. I want her to think I’m some kook with bad intentions. I can’t talk very much because she might figure out it’s me. The peacoat I’m wearing is one I almost never wear. She’s never seen it before.
“My aunt and uncle are rich. I’m sure they’d give you money for my safe return,” she says softly.
I grunt and shake my head.
Her eyes widened. “You don’t want money?”
I shake my head again, grinning inside my mask.
She hugs herself and drops her gaze to the ground. “Well, then maybe you let me go out of the goodness of your heart?”
I can’t hold back my laugh. I wince, hoping she so scared she doesn’t recognize the sound of it. She doesn’t seem to; she just looks even more terrified. I have a small pocket knife, and I pull it out and flip it open. She watches me warily, her eyes pinned on the weapon. I have no intention of going anywhere near her with it. I assume just the sight of it is enough to terrify her.
Now that I have her, I’m not quite sure what to do with her. Obviously, if I were a real psycho I’d have lots of plans. But my main thing was simply to scare her. She’s plenty scared. I hadn’t really thought about how long I’d keep her in suspense either. I could just pull the mask off right now and laugh at her. But I’m not sure she suffered enough just yet. I like seeing her groveling on the ground in front of me.