Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  A shiver made me quicken my pace. Another afternoon in the library sounded like a good idea. I could always say I was working on homework. My grades had slipped, and Miss Prescott hadn’t failed to mention it at our meeting this week. She had been sympathetic when she first took me out of the Jacksons’. She housed me in a temporary shelter for a few days before she placed me with the Hatchets—Wade and Evelyn, but everyone called him Hatchet.

  Miss Prescott had asked me to give them a chance—Hatchet and Evelyn were good people. No matter where she placed me, to Miss Prescott, they were good people. Maybe because they were willing to take a kid when no one else would.

  But things were so different. I didn’t like living in the city—too much concrete and not enough nature. Because my test scores were good, they had jumped me ahead a grade when I’d moved schools, so I had started high school in the fall instead of spending another year in middle school. The youngest in my grade and I felt out of place. It had been nearly a year, and I still didn’t fit in.

  Though she didn’t say it, Miss Prescott wanted me to stop being a problem. Both of us avoided mentioning the last time I had been happy in a placement was with Quatie Raincrow. Thinking about her still hurt. I should have called sooner, when Quatie refused to go to the doctor and she’d been so sick. And I should never have told her what had happened at the Jacksons’ ...

  This time Miss Prescott told me to stop moping; she knew I could do better, and I needed to get my grades back up.

  Schoolwork wasn’t the problem. But I couldn’t tell her.

  “Hey, Melody. Wait up.”

  Vince sprinted toward me, his brown hair flopping with each step.

  I smiled. He’d been the first person to talk to me at this school. We’d met when loneliness followed me everywhere. I’d had a few months at the middle school before summer, so hadn’t had a chance to make many friends. He was the closest friend I had.

  Vince jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and flipped his bangs out of his eyes when he reached me. “What’re you doing this afternoon? Wanna hang?”

  I shrugged. “I’m going to the library to get out of the cold.”

  Vince wrinkled his nose. “You don’t want to sit in a moldy old library on a Friday afternoon. We should do something.”

  “Like what?” Shivering, I headed toward the sidewalk on the other side of the parking lot to get my blood moving.

  Vince fell in step beside me. “Whatever you want. We could go see a movie, wander around the mall, or go bowling.”

  “Bowling? I’ve never bowled in my life.” The only thing I knew about it was the balls were big and rolled down a lane.

  “That’s it. If you haven’t bowled, you have to try it. It’ll be fun.”

  “As long as we’re indoors and I can thaw out, I’m good.”

  “Vince. Hold up.”

  A guy with short blond hair walked toward us. Well, as Daddy used to say, he walked like a rooster strutting through the henhouse. His hands rested in the pockets of his varsity jacket and his head swung from side to side, acknowledging greetings from classmates. He sure wasn’t in a rush to catch up, but expected us to wait on him.

  I cocked my head toward Vince and raised an eyebrow. He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged. Another shiver ran through me. Vince whisked off his coat and put it over my shoulders.

  The warmth from his trapped body heat felt so good. But I couldn’t let him freeze. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nah. I’ll be fine. I’m wearing a sweatshirt.” His rigid stance belied his words. His friend finally made his way to us. “Hi, James.”

  James punched Vince on the shoulder. “Where are your manners, dude?” He held his hand out to me and his grin made his blue eyes sparkle. “James Davenport, nice to meet you. I’m a buddy of Vince’s.”

  I placed my hand in his. “Melody Fisher.” His cologne had a hint of spice to it.

  James backhanded Vince on the chest. “Where have you been keeping this one?”

  Vince stumbled back a step. “I haven’t been hiding her.” He reached for my books. “We’re going bowling. Wanna come?”

  “Bowling?” James laughed. “Are you kidding?”

  Vince’s shoulders drew forward and he glowered at his friend.

  “I gotta go do weight training anyway.” James winked at me. “I just wanted to meet your friend and say hello.”

  My smile faded as I saw Sadie walking toward us. I hadn’t made my escape from school soon enough. She never wanted to be near me; whenever she looked for me it was bad.

  James followed my gaze and sneered. “What do you want, Sader tot?”

  Her dark eyes gleamed through the narrow slits between the long black lashes and the heavy black liner.

  As Sadie glared at him, James smirked. “Still trying to think of a comeback?”

  “No. Trying to figure out why you need to use a cheap grade-school insult. You don’t have anything better than that? Really?” She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you graduated from elementary school?”

  The corners of his mouth turned down, and his face reddened. “Are you calling me stupid?”

  She clapped her hands slowly. “Well done. You figured it out.”

  “It’s on, bitch.” James took a step forward, cocking his arm back.

  Vince grabbed his bicep. “Don’t be a douche. You don’t want to hit a girl. Especially on school property.”

  James pulled his arm out of Vince’s grip and snarled at Sadie. “You’re lucky Vince was here to save yo’ ugly ass.”

  Sadie wasn’t ugly. She used too much heavy, dark makeup, and wore nothing but black, but at home, I saw the real Sadie. Her dark hair set off her pale, almost translucent skin, dusted lightly with freckles.

  Sadie put up her arms and gave James a “come on” wave of her fingers. “Any time you want a piece of me and you’re feeling lucky, go ahead and bring it. I’ll serve your ass back to you on a platter.”

  James snorted. “You wish I wanted a piece of you. I don’t need anybody’s sloppy seconds.” He made a face. “I’ll never be that desperate.”

  “Who do I need to thank for small favors?” She turned her back to him. “Mom said you need to come straight home. You’ve been told. My job’s done.”

  As she made to walk past Vince, he stopped her. “Melody said she needed to go to the library.”

  She shot me a look over her shoulder. “Do I care?”

  “Miss Prescott wants me to bring my grades up. I have homework.”

  She sighed. “All right, I’ll tell the Madre you’re studying. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

  She gave a last look at James, raised her middle finger to her lips, kissed it, moved her arm in an arc and placed her finger on her butt. “You know what you can do.”

  He jerked his head back. “Not if you were the last girl on the planet.”

  “That’s not what you said last year when your only goal in life was to get in my pants.” Her lip curled. “Still upset I turned you down?”

  James spluttered. “I ... I never ...”

  Sadie held up her hand, palm facing James, and walked away.

  James shook his head as he watched her walk off. “How did you get mixed up with Sad Sadie? Don’t tell me you live with that bitch.”

  I bit my lip. It never failed, I’d meet someone and when they found out I was a foster kid, they looked at me like a second-class citizen. I was so over those sad looks, but I had at least four more years before I could break free from the system. “The Hatchets are my foster family.” I waited for the inevitable questions.

  “Foster family? Like you have no parents?” James’s eyebrows rose.

  At least he didn’t give me the same look you give someone when they tell you their puppy just died.

  Vince smacked him on the shoulder. “Dude, don’t be a jerkwad.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Vince. I’m used to it by now.” That was a lie. I�
�d never get used to the questions, the prying, and worse, the pity. “No. My mama died when I was nine, and my daddy disappeared.”

  “But—”

  Vince cut off the next question. “I thought you had to go workout. And it’s freezing balls cold out here.”

  The warmth of Vince’s coat made me feel guilty. I wriggled my shoulders.

  “Yeah, I should get going.” James grinned. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Melody. Don’t be a stranger.” His right eyebrow raised and a mischievous gleam crept into his eyes. “You’re someone I want to get to know better.”

  “Nice to meet you, James.” I gave him a shy smile.

  He ran off and Vince and I continued to the parking lot.

  “I should give your coat back, Vince. You shouldn’t have to freeze because I grabbed the wrong thing this morning.”

  He shoved his hand back in his pocket. “No, keep it on. We’ll be out of the cold soon.”

  When we reached his pickup, he opened the door and helped me in. He turned the key and the radio blasted out the latest rap song. Vince lunged for the knob to turn it down.

  “You like rap?”

  He shrugged. “Some. It hit my mood this morning. Not so much now.” He fiddled with the knob until he hit the latest pop station.

  I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. I didn’t want him to think I was laughing at him. He got so self-conscious when we were alone together. In a group or in the quad during breaks or lunch, he did fine, but he got nervous when no one else was around.

  The bowling alley was like a warm blanket after the cold outside. With the weather and the hour, I didn’t expect too many people to be at the alley, but several lanes were already taken. Some bowlers looked like their life depended on the score—they focused on nothing but the lane and pins ahead. Others were there for the fun of it. Vince and I took a lane on the far end, so I didn’t have to be embarrassed since I had no idea what I was doing.

  Vince went to the food stand and brought back nachos and sodas, and helped me pick out a ball. We spent the next few hours rolling a ball down the lane and chatting and laughing more than I’d laughed in over a year. For once I was able to push out reality so that nothing outside the bowling alley existed. Too bad it couldn’t last for the rest of my life.

  But all good things come to an end. When we finished our last line and had changed our shoes, I sat on the bench, staring at my feet.

  Vince sat next to me and gently turned my head toward him. “What’s wrong?” His big brown eyes were full of concern. “You look so sad.”

  I broke away from his gaze. “I’m sorry, Vince. It’s just that we’ve had so much fun. And now ...” I took a deep breath. “And now it’s time to face reality again.”

  Vince’s forehead crinkled. “Are things at home okay?”

  Life with the Hatchets would never be okay. I waited as a ball rolled down a lane for the inevitable crash of the pins or thunk as it hit the gutter. The pins scattered and the electronic arm came down to sweep the fallen pins to the back.

  “Not really.” I closed my eyes. Hatchet’s angry face flashed in my mind and my stomach clenched. “But I can’t talk about it.”

  Vince stood and held out his hand to help me up. “You know if you ever need to talk ...” He hugged me. “I’m always here for you.”

  I clung to him. I had never wanted to talk to anyone more than I wanted to talk to Vince right now. Biting my lower lip, I choked back the words. “I know ... I just can’t.” I squeezed him and let go.

  His hands dropped to his sides. “Then get ready for the big freeze until we get in the truck.” He grabbed his coat and put it around my shoulders again. “You’d better put your arms in the sleeves this time.”

  As I put on the coat, I asked what I had wanted to ask all afternoon. “What’s up with your friend James? Is he always such a jerk?”

  Vince’s cheeks flushed. “He’s all right, but yeah, he can be a total douche when he wants to be.”

  He was cute when he got embarrassed. “What does he have against Sadie anyway? I know she can be a pain, but it’s because she hates everyone. She’s not bad if you don’t take her attitude personally.”

  Vince opened the door for me. The winter air rushed into the bowling alley, biting any exposed skin it could find. We ran to the truck. Vince clicked the remote before we reached it, so he could open the door for me without wasting time fumbling for the keys.

  After he climbed in the cab, he slammed the door and rubbed his hands together. “It’s colder than a witch’s ...” He stopped and his forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows rose.

  Before he started apologizing, I put him out of his misery. “... tit in a brass bra.” I grinned. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard the expression. But you haven’t told me what’s up with James and Sadie.”

  He shrugged. “They’ve always taunted each other. Sadie kinda said it. Last year James wanted to go out with her.” He reversed out of the parking spot. “But when things got physical, Sadie told him no, so things got ugly.” Vince pulled into the home-from-work traffic. “James has always turned into a total jerk when she’s around.”

  When he pulled up in front of the house, Vince insisted on walking me to the door. He took me into his arms. “If you need anything, give me a call.”

  I threw my arms around him and wanted the embrace to go on forever because then I would never have to set foot in the Hatchets’ house again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  Rebecca pulled into the parking lot right on time. Melody hopped in the car and put her backpack between her feet.

  “Did things go okay today?” Rebecca wheeled out of the parking lot.

  Melody shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Things will get better, sweetie. Today was probably tough for a lot of reasons. You’re going to do great, though.”

  How could Rebecca be so sure? It would take one person to make the connection between her and Troy Alexander before the whole school would know. Just thinking about Troy made her sick to her stomach. The memory of the disgust on James’s face when he’d confronted her afterward burned in her brain.

  All the kids in school would react the same way ... even her new friend, Kelly. They didn’t know the truth and she couldn’t tell them. As ridiculous as it was, she had been told by her defense attorney not to talk about the case. Not that she would anyway. So, like everyone else, they’d listen to the lies.

  “Are you all right, Melody?” Rebecca met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “It seems like something is bothering you. Talk to Dr. Kane about it, okay?”

  Melody looked out the passenger window. She couldn’t talk to anyone about Troy. Not even Roger.

  When she walked into Roger’s office, she couldn’t settle. She picked up a few books, flipped through the pages, put them back, stared out the window and wished she could be outside.

  Roger cleared his throat. “You’re a little agitated. You’re not planning to run off again, are you?”

  She gave him a deadpan stare.

  “Ouch. Be careful. You might hurt someone with that glare of yours one of these days.” He motioned to the couch. “Why don’t you take a seat? Talking about why you ran off is as good a place to start as any.”

  She crossed her arms and plopped down on the couch.

  Roger wrinkled his forehead. “Exactly what did I say to bring on this snit?” He leaned back in his chair. “You ran out like you were being chased by a wild boar with a sore tusk last time you were here. I think it bears a little discussion.”

  Melody couldn’t keep the sullen tone out of her voice. “I already talked with Rebecca.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You did?” He smiled. “Very good. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell her why you ran. So what else is bothering you?”

  She rolled her eyes. He should give it a rest.

  “All right. If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll pick something for us t
o talk about. How about school?”

  She relaxed her arms and dropped her hands into her lap. “Nothing to say.”

  Roger crossed one leg over the other. “It was your first day back in the classroom after having been homeschooled. I’m sure there is something to say. How did your teachers treat you? The other students?”

  She shrugged. “Fine.”

  “You are a fount of information today. We have two hours, so take your pick. We can either talk about why you ran out of here during our last session or you can talk about school.” He waited for a moment. “Up to you. I’ll keep badgering you until you pick one.”

  “School.” She and Rebecca had shared with each other about the loss of Quatie Raincrow. Roger didn’t need to get in the middle of their moment.

  “You know, things would go better if you tried words longer than one syllable.” He smirked. “At least I get a response when I piss you off. Now try putting some of that energy into words.”

  She hopped off the couch and went back to the window. “What happened to making me feel comfortable until I was ready to talk?”

  He gave a hoot. “Finally. Words. Strung together to make a sentence.” He sighed. “Making you comfortable enough to speak was the goal, but we’ve crossed the line. Trust has been established, you’ve shared your past through music, but now we need to talk about the past rather than sing about it.”

  She turned and scowled. “What if I don’t want to?”

  Shrugging, he frowned. “Ultimately, I go back to the judge and tell him you have spoken, but deliberately refuse to talk. The judge will set the case for trial. Because of your age, you’ll most likely be tried as an adult, you’ll be found guilty, and you’ll go to prison for stabbing a boy.”

  Her shoulders slumped.

  “You need to be able to tell the judge what happened. I have a job to do. I know you don’t want to go to jail. You’ve been working your butt off, so why are you giving me grief today?”