by J C Wing
While Edie was off finding refreshments, Willow cleaned herself up and prepared to tell Edie the same story she’d told her parents and Elias just a few hours earlier.
“At the Biltmore?” Edie asked once Willow had finished.
Willow nodded. “I met him at the bonfire Friday night. There were a lot of people there, mostly kids our age. He doesn’t live here. I’m not actually sure where he lives.”
“What was his name?”
“Jack.”
Edie watched her. “You don’t know his last name, do you?”
Willow shook her head. “I don’t know anything about him. I didn’t want to go. I was annoyed with my mom. Hated that I had to go and dress up and waste a whole weekend doing what she wanted me to.” She paused, wiped her nose with a wad of toilet paper. “I didn’t tell Mom that this morning,” she confided.
“Good,” Edie nodded.
“I was feeling resentful. I don’t know … it sounds stupid now. I just decided to forget about all the rules. Zac wanted something from me I wasn’t willing to give and look at all the trouble that caused. I thought maybe it would be fun to throw caution to the wind, do something impulsive. When he asked me to go up to his room, I said yes.”
Willow hated herself for telling such an elaborate lie. What she hated more, though, was that she knew Edie wasn’t buying any of it.
“Were you scared?” Edie asked after a moment. “Did it hurt?”
“A little.” She tried to mix in enough of the truth to make herself feel better. She’d done that since middle school. Lying wasn’t something Willow enjoyed, but the truth had so oftentimes not been good enough for her mother. She’d learned the art of storytelling—mixing just enough of the truth with the fabrication to make it believable, and to soothe the guilt she wore on her conscience like a heavy fur coat.
She had been scared the first time. And it had hurt.
Edie heaved a sigh. “Wow,” she breathed. “What about protection? That’s been beaten into us since we started school. What happened?”
“It broke,” Willow answered truthfully. “I guess it broke.” She put her hand on her belly. “I mean, there’s no other way, right? It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Edie looked at her skeptically. “Nothing about this makes sense.” Willow knew it was a challenge. Someday, she hoped she’d be able to confess to Edie, but she’d come up with this story, and it was the only tale that seemed feasible without bringing Jason into the picture. Edie was letting her know the story wasn’t a good one, but she’d never call Willow out. If Willow told her she was telling the truth, Edie would play along.
“How are your parents handling this? Did they take your car away? What about work?”
“Ah, well,” Willow sighed. “Dad says I can’t put the genie back in the bottle. Mom is angry. She talked about locking me away, never letting me leave the house again, but Dad says there’s no point to any of that.” She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ve still got Little Blue and my job. I’ve gone well past what qualifies for being grounded. I’m not sure they really know what to do. What more can I do to screw up at this point?”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Edie couldn’t imagine being in Willow’s shoes. She tried, but the thought of being pregnant at the age of sixteen was more than she could grasp. “What about Elias?”
“Man, Elias …” she paused. “Facing him was almost as hard as facing Dad.”
Edie gave her an understanding nod. “He gives you a lot of shit, but you’re his baby sister. He loves you.”
“He’s so disappointed in me.” She looked up. “God, E, I’m so disappointed in myself.”
And now she was lying about it. It was bad enough she hadn’t told her dad the truth, but Edie? It was so much worse with Edie. She studied her best friend’s pretty brown eyes. Edie knew this story was bullshit, and Willow had lied to her again. Edie was trusting her, and Willow wasn’t at all sure she deserved it.
As she held Edie’s gaze, she heard the voice inside her head repeat the mantra she’d been listening to for the last twenty-four hours. Give Jason time.
Damn it.
“I kinda don’t know what to say,” Edie confessed. “I mean, messin’ around with Josh and Austin and the rest of ‘em is one thing. I’ve always known that’s what it was, just messin’ around. I’m not a prude or anything … I get it. Trust me. I think about it with Jake … I think about it a lot, I just …” Her voice trailed off.
“I know.” She could feel tears sting the backs of her eyes again. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, sweetie …” Edie reached out and took Willow’s hands in her own. “You must be so scared right now.”
Emotion burst through the surface and suddenly Willow was all tears. Her bottom lip trembled, and tears fell from her lashes. “I’m absolutely terrified.”
DOWN FOR THE COUNT
By February, Willow could no longer button her jeans. No one else could tell, especially since the weather was cool and she, like most of the other kids, were wearing sweaters and hoodies. She would get caught up in the everyday swing of things; morning shower, breakfast, going to school … Classes were like they always had been, and for the most part, everyone at school still treated her like they always had. There was curiosity about who had fathered the child. No one had come out and asked, and Willow hadn’t offered. Did he go to Redwood High School? Was it someone that they knew? Beyond that, Willow was still Willow. The fact that she was pregnant wasn’t something most people dwelled on.
Those jeans made not dwelling on it much harder for Willow.
It wasn’t avoidance, really. The baby she carried was always in the back of her mind. She never forgot she was pregnant. She had a future to plan, and she knew that. She also knew that she’d be about seven months along when the school year ended, and if she wanted to make that future a good one for both her and the baby, she needed to focus on grades and finishing up her sophomore year.
Those jeans made her climb into her Mustang after work Saturday afternoon and drive over to the South Street Gym near Chestnut Hill. She’d heard Jason talk about the place so much, but she’d never been. It was exclusive for boxing, and she could see several of the rings through the large, plate glass windows.
She moved the car, backing it into a space where she could watch the matches take place. She rolled her window down a few inches and felt the cold winter breeze blow in. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, and the palms of both hands covered the small lump of unbuttoned jeans and growing baby that was beginning to rise beneath her shirt.
Jason’s nightly phone calls had diminished to two or three times a week, and when she’d tried to find time to see him, there was always something going on that kept him busy. He’d picked up an extra closing shift at work, he’d decided to accept the gym owner’s offer to clean up at night for ring time, his mom was back and in a bad way after breaking up with Paul. All the excuses he’d given her could have been true, but that didn’t change the fact that he was avoiding her.
When Willow was being honest with herself, she had to wonder why Jason was still in town at all. After each distant phone call, after every excuse he came up with for not seeing her, she realized more time wasn’t what the boy needed. Had he finally sent that application off to the Naval Academy? Was he just waiting on his acceptance? Or maybe it was Nicole he was waiting on. If it was true that Paul had dumped her, it was highly probable that she’d box up all her beautiful plants and dyed linens and she’d be heading out with the next guy who took an interest. Maybe her next Prince Charming just hadn’t shown up at her diner yet.
Even with all the evidence proving how unlikely it was, Willow found herself still wanting to believe that maybe Jason was still here because he hadn’t given up on the three of them yet.
She watched as he climbed into the ring. He wore a pair of black shorts that fell to the middle of his thick, muscular thighs. His t-shirt was black, too, with white lettering advertising
the gym. His hair was mussed, the roots soaked in sweat and the color high in his cheeks. He’d been there a while, Willow guessed.
She’d never watched him box. She’d never been allowed to. She watched with interest now. He looked so focused, like there was nothing in his world but the fight he had ahead of him. The expression on his face, the way he held his body matched the enthusiasm, the love for the sport he conveyed when he spoke about it.
Willow actually felt a little intimidated by what she saw in his face.
Jason bounced around the ring, looking as though he had springs in his feet. Sweat began to stain the front of his shirt, the black fabric darkening in a v on his chest. His fists swung and shot, his sparring partner giving as good as he got.
It seemed to Willow that the longer the two of them fought, the more aggressive Jason became. She shifted in her seat as the two men continued to throw punches. Both of them were dripping sweat now, jabbing, feinting. Willow pulled the sunglasses off her face and squinted in through the window. When he brought his arm up in a hook and made contact with the side of his opponent’s head, Willow jumped in her seat. She watched as his rival dropped to the ground.
Willow blinked. Jason continued to bounce, his adrenaline rushing, while the man acting as ref dropped to the floor next to Jason’s partner. He was saying something, but Willow couldn’t hear him. Jason responded, the interaction looking a bit intense, but Willow wasn’t sure she was reading that correctly. After all, boxing in itself was pretty intense.
Jason climbed through the ropes and disappeared while Willow watched as his rival lie still on the mat. He was unconscious. Totally out. She put her glasses back on her face and started the car. One punch. One punch and the guy was down.
She closed her eyes and remembered seeing Jason for the first time, remembered telling him he looked like he played ball. She’d seen him unclothed many times. She’d run her hands over his chest and arms and found his strength, his muscular build extremely attractive. Seeing him throw punches in the ring, watching him take a guy out with a single punch to the head suddenly made that strength seem like a very frightening thing.
“You’re overreacting,” she told herself. “All these hormones.” She took a deep breath and released it as she pulled forward and made herself drive slowly through the parking lot. “You’ve got months to go, girl, and your crazy is really showing. You might want to tuck that back in.”
She also decided that she’d already made enough mistakes. If Jason wanted time, she was going to give it to him.
The following morning, Willow was woken up by the ringtone on her phone. She fumbled with it, pushing it off her bedside table. When she finally retrieved it, she answered it without looking to see who was calling.
“’Lo?”
“Will?”
“Yeah, E. It’s me. What’s up? What time is it?”
“Never mind that. Turn on the TV.”
The shakiness in Edie’s voice, like she’d been crying, pulled Willow further out of sleep.
“Okay, hang on …” Willow grabbed the remote and fumbled with that, too, before she got the TV to do what she wanted it to. “What channel?”
“The news. Eight.”
Willow found the channel and turned the volume up.
“…but Sheriff Maxwell Cabot had this to say at the press conference held earlier this morning …”
They played a tape of the sheriff standing in a white walled room, a bank of microphones perched in front of him and camera flashes sparking off the eyeglasses he wore. “A body was found at approximately 5:30 this morning by a jogger at Walker Street Park. The deceased was carrying her driver’s license with her, and she has been identified by family members as Diana Drake …”
“Wait,” Willow said, not sure if she heard the name correctly. “Did he say Diana Drake?”
“Yeah …” Edie sniffed.
Diana Drake was one of the girls on the cheerleading squad. She was one of Edie’s friends, a girl she’d cheered with since seventh grade. The girl at Dane’s party who wanted Edie to come in and help her take the gaming over from the boys. “No,” Willow breathed. “It can’t be …”
“… student at Redwood High School …”
The anchorwoman came back on air. “Two months ago, the body of Jocelyn Porter, also a student who attended Redwood High School, was found near a dumpster on the property of Louis Memorial Recreational Center where she worked. According to reports made by Hailey Bates, the jogger who found Diana Drake’s body, and public police reports written about the Jocelyn Porter slaying, there are many similarities in each case. When asked if he thought there was a connection between the two, this is what Sheriff Cabot had to say.”
The sheriff filled the screen once more. “Both girls were the same age. They both attended the same school, and, while this needs to be substantiated by an autopsy in the death of Ms. Drake, the coroner in each case has reported that each of the young women had been asphyxiated. There are many details that have not been made public in either case, and the deaths of both Ms. Porter and Ms. Drake are ongoing investigations.”
Reporters lobbied numerous questions at the sheriff. He raised his hands in the air, palms out, and tried to quiet the group.
“Right now, we urge everyone to be vigilant. Watch your surroundings. Pay attention. We don’t know yet whether or not these deaths are connected. Our community’s safety is our utmost priority, and we are doing everything in our power to bring to justice the individuals who are responsible for the deaths of these young women.”
Willow watched the screen, her body numb.
“E, I’m so sorry,” she said when she heard her friend crying on the other end of the line. “I can’t believe this … I just … I don’t know what to say …”
“I can’t figure it out, Will. Why Diana? I mean, why Jocelyn? I didn’t know Jocelyn, but what could she have done to deserve to die like she did? And Diana … my god, Willow, Diana … she’s so sweet. She’s a kick ass cheerleader, she’s a good kid …” Her voice broke. “Was.” Edie was sobbing now. “She was a good kid …”
Willow heard muffled noises. “E? E, are you there?”
“Hey, Willow,” Marty’s voice came through the phone. “Edith is beside herself. I think it’s best I hang up now.”
“Yeah, okay,” Willow agreed. “Hug her for me, please,” she asked.
“Will do,” Marty assured her. The line disconnected and Willow let the phone drop from her ear into her lap.
She shook her head and felt a tear fall from her cheek. It suddenly felt like it was a very scary time to be a teenage girl in Redwood, North Carolina.
AS SWEET AS PIE
Willow padded down the stairs and slowly walked into the kitchen. Things felt so off kilter. She’d been telling herself that her hormones were out of whack. She knew that to be true, but the world had become disorganized, out of control, and that had nothing to do with the state of her body chemistry.
She found a note stuck on the fridge by a magnet in the shape of a daisy. “Gone to church. Home by 1.” It was written in her mom’s flowing cursive, and she could almost see the disappointment in the way the letters curved and swirled. She might as well have written, You should be here with me asking God’s forgiveness for the thoughtless mistake you’ve made and the way you’ve made us all look like such ignorant fools in front of our peers. Willow sighed and shuffled to the cabinet where she knew she’d find refuge in a box of Pop Tarts.
She heard the sound of someone opening the back door but didn’t turn until she heard Parker’s voice. “Lookin’ pretty hot there in those sweatpants, Will. I’d probably tap that.” He paused, giving her a lascivious grin. “Oh, wait. Someone got to you before I could.”
Willow looked him up and down, taking in the well-worn and heavily stained Levi’s, work boots and ratty t-shirt advertising the Brew Ha Ha strip club.
“I thought you were makin’ some pretty good money working for the city,” she said, hold
ing his dark gaze. “You couldn’t afford anything better than those rags at the local thrift store?”
Parker’s grin remained. “Still feisty as ever,” he said looking almost pleased. “Bein’ knocked up has only made you prettier.”
Willow held the box of pastries in her hand, a look of expectancy on her face. This is how Parker played, and Willow waited him out.
“Your face has filled out,” he told her. “And so have your tits.”
A shadow moved behind Parker and Willow could hear someone coming up behind him.
“Well,” she said with a shrug as Elias stepped inside the kitchen. “You always have loved jugs of every kind.” She tore open a Pop Tart and caught the look on her brother’s face.
“What?” he asked, surprised.
Willow pointed at Parker. “Nothin’,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just commenting on Parker’s t-shirt.”
Elias glanced at what Parker was wearing, then chuckled. “How long have you had that stupid shirt, dude?” he asked. “That place closed a long ass time ago.”
Parker still had his eyes on Willow, and when she caught his glance again, he gave her a wink. Willow sighed and took a bite of her pastry. So far, this Sunday had really sucked.
“Why are you eating that crap?” Elias scolded his sister.
“Have you heard the news?”
Elias shut the door and walked straight to the coffee maker.
“What news?”
“They found another body. Another girl from my school has been killed.”
“Shit, Will,” he said, turning toward her. “I hadn’t heard that. I’m sorry.”
“She was a cheerleader. E’s a total wreck. She and Diana have been friends for a long time.”
Elias grabbed Willow’s arm and pulled her to him. She was grateful for the hug and pressed the side of her face against her brother’s chest.
“Ain’t this touchin’,” Parker lamented as he walked past the two of them. “I thought we were gettin’ coffee not havin’ a sweet little family moment.”
