by H. A. Wills
The room feels dark and claustrophobic, lit more by the fluorescent lights above than any natural light-- the skies an oppressive dark grey, visible through the small window behind me.
Old memories of another older woman, in an office a lot like this, leaps to mind. I can still hear her whispery voice, like she couldn’t seem to get in enough air, as she told my bastard of a father that the administration was concerned I was self-harming to gain attention. It didn’t matter what I said in my defense; she refused to believe me. Instead, she talked over me and around me to the man that I’d later find out was the real culprit behind my accidents. And the Bastard just nodded with the proper worried parent expression, while internally he was probably laughing at the woman’s ignorance.
I stuff my hands between my knees to keep Mrs. Cartwright from seeing them shake, while a cold sweat builds on the back of my neck, and my heart pounds violently in my chest.
“You can do this, pretty girl,” Felix assures from the chair next to me. “Just tell her the truth-- well, what you can of it. I’m right here with you.”
Tears already burn in my eyes, and we haven’t even started. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathe, Callie. Breathe.
I feel like a deer in headlights, already unsure how I’m supposed to answer her question. Do I lie and tell her no, I don’t know why I’m here? Or do I tell her about this morning, only to learn I was called in for something dumb like there’s an issue with my transcripts?
I decide to stay tight lipped and shake my head no.
She gives me a gentle, understanding look, with wrinkles bunching around the sides of her lips as her mouth turns down at the corners. Sure enough, she pulls one of the pamphlets that poured out of my locker this morning from her desk drawer.
“Do you know what this is?” She holds it out to me.
Knots build in my stomach, as I reach out to take it from her, desperate to find the right words to explain what’s going on. When I look down at the cruel words written in red sharpie, I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“What the...?” Felix whispers, his warm timbre infused with shock reading the words, as I stare at the paper in my hand.
It no longer says, KILL YOURSELF! Instead, it’s a frightening desperate plea-- PLEASE KILL ME!
No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Not again!
“Callie-- is it okay if I call you Callie?” Mrs. Cartwright asks, pulling her woolen sleeves up to her elbows.
I give a disjointed nod, words seemingly stuck in my throat. My necklace is warm again, and I feel like I’m drowning. I thought I was prepared for them not to believe me, but this… how do I fight against this?
“Say something,” Felix encourages, getting up to kneel in front of me. “It doesn’t matter what it says, you didn’t do this.”
My gaze shifts from the paper to his soft hazel eyes, the colors mixing together in seamless transition. “I didn’t do this,” I echo in a desperate whisper.
He nods to indicate I’m doing well, a gentle, supportive smile pulling at his lips.
She laces her fingers together and leans forward, elbows braced on her desk. In a soothing voice, painfully reminiscent of the last time I was in this position, she asks, “Then why is it in your handwriting?”
“It’s what now?” Felix falters, looking back down to the paper in my hand.
I was too distracted by what the words said, to recognize my handwriting, but it does have a frightening resemblance to my own. How did she…?
“It’s not possible,” I whisper, clawed hands of disbelief and panic choking me. “I didn’t write this. Who told you I wrote this?”
“A concerned student turned this in and mentioned you by name, because they said they recognized your handwriting.” Sighing, she gazes at me like a person who refuses to see the truth right in front of her. “Other students came forward and reported that you filled your locker with these-- which were all taken from the rack out in the hallway.”
“But I didn’t,” I insist, fine tremors quaking through my body. More memories flood in-- the familiar desperation for someone to believe me making it difficult to breathe. “I didn’t do this to myself. I wouldn’t do this to myself!”
Felix waves a hand in front of my face to gain my attention-- his face is open with worry. He’s seeing the cracks, and he knows too much. I have to hold my shit together.
“It’s going to be okay,” he promises, letting his hand hover over my arm. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”
It’s not going to be okay, my mind cries. I’ve seen how heavy my truth weighs on his shoulders. It’s too much. I’m too much. I can’t let him see how close I am to breaking.
I shift deeper into the chair to get some distance. When my arm goes through Felix, he falls back with shock painted across his features. He holds up his hand, staring at it oddly, like it’s something he no longer recognizes. Shit! What did I do to him now?
I hug myself tight, the pamphlet crushed in my hand, as I press my fingernails hard into the fleshy part of my palm, hoping the sharp bite of pain will help me focus.
“Callie,” Mrs. Cartwright says my name like the difficult student she thinks I am. “If you admit to what happened now, you won’t be in trouble.”
My necklace grows even hotter, and a rattling thunder echoes in the distance. Through gritted teeth, I grind out, “Who? Who was the person that said it was my writing? Who said I did this to myself? Because I didn’t, I swear. It was done to me!”
Felix comes back to himself, his gaze flashing to the window then back at me. “Whoa. Okay, pretty girl, breathe. Remember we’ve decided blowing up the town is bad.”
I try to breathe, but each breath feels trapped in my lungs. My dreams of Armageddon flash before my eyes, and anger tightens like a weight in my stomach along with drowning helplessness.
“The students asked to remain anonymous… for fear of repercussions… from you,” Mrs. Cartwright answers quietly, and I can only blink at her, because the words won’t compute in my head. “Callie, I can’t imagine how difficult your life is right now. What happened with your father, moving away from everything you know…”
“What do you mean about my father?” I exclaim, painful memories of all he did to me clawing through my brain.
Felix groans, running his hand through his hair, and under his breath, he mutters, “Seriously, woman? Did you have to bring up psycho dad?”
“I’ve read through some of the notes on your record from previous counselors,” she says, looking at me in earnest, unaware of the wound she’s digging into. “There are notes about how your father is in prison for the attempted abduction of a young woman. I did some research, and it looks like the trial was fairly public back in Phoenix.”
Right. That. The tremors quaking through my body grow, as too many thoughts and emotions twist inside me. Past and present overlap, and a red haze begins to take over. What he did to her, he goes to prison for, but he’ll never be held accountable for what he did to me. I crumple the pamphlet into a ball within my fist. No one seems to ever be held accountable for what they do to me.
“Noooooo. Stop now,” Felix pleads with Mrs. Cartwright like she can hear him. “This is bad. Very, very bad.”
Sure enough, the window starts to rattle from the heavy winds that blow against it, and I feel the riptide fighting to pull me under. Everything feels out of control, and I fear Donovan is wrong. I am broken.
“There also is a note that a few years ago… you were putting yourself in harm’s way to gather attention from your peers,” she continues, and the red haze grows. Mrs. Cartwright looks down at her desk for a moment, like she’s gathering strength. “Callie, this is very serious. I’ve also been informed that you’ve been using the threat of ending your life to manipulate others. Suicide isn’t a game. If you really feel you might end your life, then we need to set up a plan to get you the help you need. But-- and this is why I haven’t called in your aunt-- if this is you falling back into old destructive p
atterns, I want to give you the opportunity to come clean.”
“I didn’t fucking do any of this!” I scream, finally snapping, and leaping from my chair. Felix shifts out of the way quickly, like he’s frightened of me going through him again. “This is all Gina Reyes. She’s pissed off that her ex is friends with me, so she’s been spreading lies about me. Go ahead and ask him-- it’s Nolan Campbell. Ask him, and he’ll tell you that it’s not me.”
“Please sit down, Callie,” she asks, her patience beginning to strain. Yeah, fuck you, lady! You have no idea of the storm you’ve created. She sighs, when I continue to stand. “Ms. Reyes already came forward yesterday with her concerns regarding you two. She said you threatened to ‘take her down,’ and that you’ve been confrontational since learning of her past relationship with Mr. Campbell.”
“This can’t be happening. Crap like this only happens in movies,” Felix utters with the awe of someone watching a train wreck they can’t stop. He stares at Mrs. Cartwright dumbfounded, mouth hanging open and everything.
I want to laugh, because no level of crazy is out of reach for me anymore.
My heart is a frenzied jackhammer in my ears, because as bad as it was before, this is actually worse. Before, I believed that I had the shittiest luck of all time, and it was frustrating that no one believed me. But now magic is involved, something I can’t fight, and it’s more than simply no one believing me. It’s like my credibility ran into a giant iceberg when I wasn’t looking and there’s no room on the lifeboats.
“She’s lying! All that bitch does is lie!” I shout, knowing I sound crazy, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Thunder booms outside, and a crack of lighting throws the room into a stark flash of light and dark. My phone buzzes in my backpack, making it clear the guys have noticed the weather outside.
“I know you feel very strongly right now, but please take care with your language and try to calm down,” she instructs firmly.
Felix scrambles to his feet, and once again puts himself between me and Mrs. Cartwright. “She’s right,” he entreats, then rubs at the back of his neck. “I mean, she’s tone deaf and blind, because seriously, lady, who keeps talking when a student looks like this? But you do need to try and calm down. Town go boom, remember?”
My eyes lock onto Felix like a life preserver in the frozen seas, and I try to stuff it down. I want to flee back to the detached part of my mind, but it’s no longer safe there.
“Call all the guys down here,” I beg, desperate for all of their strength and their voices added to mine. “Nolan Campbell, Kaleb Ward, Connor Lopez, and Donovan Alvarez. They saw everything that happened this morning. They’ll tell you that Gina did this, not me!”
“Uh, maybe not Connor,” Felix interjects, with a pained expression. “Remember, we told him to take a nice long wolfy run, so he doesn’t murder Gina and half of the administration. He’s eighteen, and I imagine prison would be hard on a shifter. No fresh air or trees to pee on.”
I bark out a laugh, but it sounds somewhat unhinged to my ears.
Mrs. Cartwright raises a dubious brow, unaware of Felix’s nervous rambling about fresh air and trees. “They saw Ms. Reyes place the pamphlets in your locker?”
And there it is. The trap snapping around my neck.
A cold burn spreads through my chest, like I’ve been stabbed with a dagger made of ice, and my teeth clench so tight my jaw aches.
“No, they didn’t see her put them in my locker,” I grind out. “They were there when I opened my locker and all of the paper fell out.”
“Does Ms. Reyes know the combination to your locker?” she asks, but her tone implies she already knows the answer.
“No.”
She lets my answer hang in the air like a proverbial noose. Her face says it all. Just like I told the guys this morning, it’s easier to believe I did this to myself than that the popular rich girl no one has ever accused of bullying did this to me.
“Holy shit,” Felix breathes, smart enough to understand what this all means.
This little conversation isn’t simply about who stuffed my locker with suicide pamphlets or dumb rumors about me spread through the school. Gina’s neatly ensured that everything she does to me from here on out looks like I’ve done it to myself, and anything I say or do against her is evidence of my obsession to ‘take her down.’ Instead of casting suspicion on her, she’s become the victim in all this.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, so angry my vision blurs. With each word, my tone gets louder until I’m once again screaming, “Why bother asking me, if you weren’t going to actually give me the benefit of the doubt? That’s the problem with people like you. You all think you know, but you don’t know shit!”
My necklace burns my flesh, reaching its threshold, and the window shatters.
Mrs. Cartwright gasps as the glass explodes onto the floor behind me, and her eyes are so wide I can see the white completely around her brown irises.
“Are you alright?” she asks with real concern in her voice, getting up from her chair to investigate the damage.
A glare is my only response— I’m too scared to open my mouth again.
Felix looks surprisingly relieved. Probably because I smashed a window opposed to blowing up half the town.
Once Mrs. Cartwright makes her own assessment that I’m not physically harmed, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She walks back to her desk and pulls out a yellow notepad. “I’m sorry, Callie. I’d hoped that we could have a mature conversation about this, but it looks like you need time to think about what you’ve done, and the proper behavior to deal with your actions. Tomorrow, you have after school detention, and I’ll be calling your aunt. I hope once you’ve had time to think, we can discuss your behavior and how we can work together to overcome these issues.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, sounding like the sullen teen she thinks I am, but I’m too pissed off and scared to care.
It was a window this time, but if I don’t get this binding spell off, we might not be so lucky next time. Though, with what my aunt told me about spirit witches, I don’t know if it’ll be any better for the town when it’s off.
Felix seems to come back to himself, when I snatch the detention slip from Mrs. Cartwright’s hand and head for the door. I slam it as hard as I can when I leave, because what the fuck does it matter? If I’m polite or a complete bitch, they still won’t believe me. No one listens. No one cares about what’s true. Only what’s easier to understand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he follows me toward my last class of the day, Jewelry 1. “I couldn’t help. If it was one of the other guys with you, then maybe…”
“It’s okay, Casper,” I reply with a weak smile. Even though the last period of the day has already started, I try to keep my voice low in case a random person walks by. “There’s nothing you or I or anyone could’ve done. Her mind was already made up.”
He opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it, shaking his head instead.
“At least you were there to witness it,” I offer up, my stomach twisting. “Maybe when the guys hear it from you, they’ll believe me.”
“What?” he cries, like I’ve told him there’s no difference between Marvel and DC. Quickly, he moves so he’s in front of me and walking backwards. “The guys believe you. They’ll always believe you. Yeah, I’ll tell them what I saw, but don’t think for a second that they don’t trust what you tell them.”
“Then why did Kaleb…?” I trail off, not sure exactly what I’m trying to say.
“It’s not that he doesn’t believe you-- he does,” Felix affirms, a shockingly serious expression holding tight to his normally happy, elfin features. “He just wants Gina to stop. We all do, and he hoped that with all you guys it would make a difference. Even knowing what a bitch she is, we all seemed to underestimate her evilness.”
I give him a look, and he cringes a little, moving so we’re once again walking side by side. “Okay, you didn’t, but
it wasn’t that we didn’t believe you, we just hoped…”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I reassure, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Hope isn’t a bad thing-- just didn’t work in this instance.”
“What are you going to do?” he inquires, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets.
I shrug, feeling drained and lost. “I don’t know. She said she’d call my aunt about today, so I’ll wait to see what she says.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll believe you,” Felix replies automatically, like he can see the doubts clawing through my mind. “Just like me and the guys, she has your back.”
I nod, as I fight the tears that never seem to go away.
∞∞∞
The skies are still a heavy grey, thick with clouds a hair's breadth away from showering us with rain, but the wind, thunder and lightning from my magic is thankfully gone.
All the guys, except for Connor, are in the parking lot waiting for me after school. As soon as I see Kaleb, everything seems to bubble up inside me and I rush toward him.
“I told them,” I confess, tears already clogging my throat. “I told them, and they didn’t care. They didn’t believe me!”
Aching tenderness reaches out to me from his warm brown eyes, and he opens his arms, inviting me into them. The last vestiges of any self-control I had melts away, and I start crying as soon as my head rests against his chest.
“I’m so sorry, Callie,” he murmurs into my hair, holding me tight and rocking me side to side.
Relief washes through my body so profoundly, that I grip tightly to the back of his shirt, scared that my legs will give out. I didn’t break what Kaleb and I have beyond mending. He’s still here. He still wants to be my friend.
“What the hell happened?” Donovan growls from somewhere behind me.
“She was called into the office during third period,” Nolan answers, his voice indicating he’s right beside me, but I don’t look up. “Unless the gale force winds and whatnot was a coincidence, I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”