Warrior Saints - Creator

by Carla Thorne

  “Ugly scene in the bathroom Saturday night. Paige was all over Corey. She put her on probation with the Arrows and said there’d be consequences.”

  “She didn’t disappoint.”

  “Nope. Anyway, I called Ivy because I knew they were friends. She was going to try and talk to Corey ASAP. I don’t know if she got anywhere with her.”

  Deacon hiked his bag further up on his shoulder. “Expect to hear a lecture during morning announcements.”

  “If Corey’s here today that’ll make it worse.”

  “No choice. My parents already had an email, Facebook, and Twitter blast posted at three this morning. According to new laws against bullying, the school has to address everything—even if it originated off campus. They’re required to investigate and attempt to stop the spread.”

  “That’s impossible. Everyone is forwarding those images to all their contacts. How can they possibly uncover where it started? And, knowing Paige, her hands are clean. She had someone else do the dirty work.”

  “Probably. But Corey knows and can tell.”

  My heart sank and a long dull ache started in my stomach. “No. Paige is going untouched for this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Corey isn’t going to say a word.”

  Chapter 26

  Ivy

  I headed straight for the office on Monday morning.

  “Please, Mrs. Ramos, I know she’s in there. Let me check on her.”

  “You really should go to class, Ivy. We’re taking care of everything.”

  “I know, but I didn’t hear from her all day yesterday and I need to see she’s OK.”

  Mrs. Ramos checked her watch and glanced out into the hall. “All right, darlin’, but you have maybe four minutes tops before Mr. Parrington gets back in here. Make it quick.”

  I rushed into the office I’d seen far too much of for a new kid. Corey sat hunched in a chair along the wall with her knees pulled to her chin.

  “Corey! Thank the stars. Why didn’t you call me back?”

  “Ivy?”

  “Yes! Of course it’s me. Are you stoned or something? Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap, but I’ve been trying to get you.”

  “I’m not stoned, and I knew it was you. I was surprised.”

  “Why? I’m your friend, and I’ve been worried sick.”

  “But I’m sure Paige doesn’t want you to talk to me and I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Are you serious right now? I don’t care about Paige! That spiteful witch has exploded your life. How can you care about what she thinks?”

  Corey’s glassy-eyed gaze moved to the wall. “She’s the leader of the Arrows. Those pictures are because I disobeyed her.”

  “Corey, Corey, Corey. That is not true. Those pictures are because she’s a bully and wants to hurt you.”

  “It’s my punishment for changing my hair and going to the dance. Once this is over, maybe she’ll take me off probation and let me rejoin the club as a member in good standing.”

  I didn’t think I could be any more shocked at the depths of Corey’s devotion, but yet, there I was listening to a victim defend her bully and praying she could get back in her good graces.

  I sat beside her and took her hand. “Corey, can you look at me?”

  She turned her head my way. Maybe she wasn’t stoned in the I smoked a joint behind the school on my way in way, but she looked to be on something. That’s exactly why I didn’t want to be medicated. She couldn’t think. If she could, she surely wouldn’t be so concerned about Paige and the Arrows. She’d be more concerned about how to get away from Paige and the Arrows.

  Then again, why would Corey’s parents have sedated her and sent her to school like that? They probably didn’t. Corey’s lack of movement and desire to fight back, or even the ability to reason hit me with dread.

  “Corey, what are you thinking?”

  Her teary gaze followed my lips and then my eyes. “Nothing.”

  “There has to be something.”

  “No. There’s nothing if Paige doesn’t take me back. It’s over.”

  “What’s over?”

  “Everything. I had no friends before, I’ll have no friends again.”

  “But you do have friends. I’m your friend. Mary and Scout and Deacon are all concerned about you and want to be better friends to you. Oh! And don’t forget we get the new music tomorrow for the holiday show. We’re going to audition, remember?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t? You can do anything you want.”

  “I can’t because I’m on probation with the Arrows.”

  “C’mon, Corey, you’ve seen what Paige has done. She’s not your friend.”

  “Paige protects me.”

  “No, Corey, Paige is trying to destroy you. You have to fight back.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Yes, it does.” She turned her head away again and I pulled it back. “No one will care about those pictures and texts in a few days. Something new will come along to take up everyone’s disgusting need for entertainment at someone else’s expense. You have to hang on and get through this.”

  “I appreciate your friendship, Ivy, but it’s over.”

  “What’s over?”

  “Everything. It doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.”

  “Corey, wait, what are you saying? Of course it matters if you’re here.”

  “Not really. There’s not a whole lot for me here if Paige doesn’t take me back, and I’m tired of it all.”

  The vision, the pain pouring off her in waves, the deep spirit of hopelessness that overtook her…

  “Two minutes, Ivy.” Mrs. Ramos’s warning screeched in my ears at the exact wrong moment.

  “Coming…” I leaned into Corey’s face. “Listen. You’re scaring me. It sounds like you’re saying you don’t want to live. That’s not an answer, Corey, believe me, I know. Leaving this world is not going solve anything.”

  “It would for me.”

  “NoNoNoNoNo….” I was in over my head. What was I supposed to say? “Promise me you’ll call me.” I remembered the words from an assembly at my last school. “If you find yourself alone and the idea of suicide crosses your mind, promise me you’ll call me. Before you do anything or even let the idea take hold, call me. Call me. Call me. Call me first.”

  She looked away.

  “No, Corey, look at me.” I pulled her face back yet again. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll call me first if you have any ideas about ending your life.”

  A hazy, slow blink was the best I could get from her.

  “Ivy? What are you doing in here?”

  I jumped from the chair as Mr. Parrington entered his office with a school counselor. “Sorry. I had to make sure she was OK. She didn’t answer my texts yesterday.”

  “OK. We’ve got her. You can go to class.”

  “No wait.” I yanked on his shirt sleeve until we both stood in front of Mrs. Ramos’s desk. “You don’t understand. It’s bad. She’s not thinking straight.”

  “Her parents are on their way. We’ll take care of her.”

  “Why did they let her come here today?”

  “I can’t discuss one student’s issues with another, but I will say I don’t think they knew all this was about her.”

  I nodded as my head spun and made me dizzy. “She’s not good, Mr. Parrington.”

  “We’ll take care of her.”

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand.”

  He touched my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Ivy, I do understand what you’re trying not to say. Would it help if I told you we will keep her safe?”

  Safe. What a suddenly odd word. Safe.

  Safe was exactly what I wanted and exactly what Corey needed.

  Maybe he did understand.

  I nodded again and took the pass Mrs. Ramos handed me. “Use this, darlin’, and take a few minutes to collect yourself an
d then go to class. OK?”

  Mr. Parrington turned at his office door. “Go to class and I’ll call you in later and we can talk about it some more.”

  “Can you call Mary and Deacon and Scout too? They have some information about Paige Ryan and the Arrows.”

  He blew out a long breath and looked at Mrs. Ramos. “Now how did I know that all four of the Super Saints had their mitts in this somehow?” He looked back at me. “How about I talk to you first and we’ll go from there.”

  “Sure.”

  I rushed from the office to the nearest bathroom and ducked into the farthest stall. Tears came faster than I could unroll the flimsy tissue off the wobbly roll.

  I glanced at the ceiling as I used the rough toilet paper to make scratchy swipes across my swollen nose and eyes.

  What’s your plan, supportive voices?

  Where are you now, weird hallucinations?

  What do I do, alleged helpful and powerful Creator?

  Chapter 27

  Mary

  We all ended up again at Scout’s that afternoon.

  Deacon shut the mini fridge in disgust. “Where’s the chocolate milk?”

  “Sorry.” Scout heaved his backpack onto the floor beside the couch. “My grandma’s on another kick. I’m supposedly off sodas and sugary stuff. I have fancy water, fizzy water, and plain water. Take your pick.”

  “Hard pass.”

  “There may be a hidden two-liter bottle of Dr Pepper in the cabinet. It’s warm, though.”

  “No problem. I see a burping contest in our immediate future.”

  Ivy stayed busy chomping on her nail, but that drew her attention. “Gross. Do guys always have to be such…guys?”

  “Hey! I found cheese cubes.”

  Scout waved his hand toward the bar. “There are napkins and stuff in that drawer. Should be some cut-up fruit in the fridge too.”

  Ivy snorted. “Your grandma cuts up your fruit?”

  “Yeah,” Deacon added. “Have some self-respect. Eat the apple.”

  “Nooooo, she doesn’t cut up my fruit. She buys it already cut up from Costco.”

  “Awwww,” Ivy purred, “I bet there’s a bag of baby carrots in there too.”

  Scout shook his head. “Maybe…”

  We all laughed as Deacon dropped the weird stash of food on the ottoman.

  Then we all just looked at each other.

  Ivy picked up a yellow cube and then dropped it. “Isn’t anyone going to say anything?”

  “Yeah, Mary.” Deacon opened the warm DP. “Talk. I have a feeling you have a whopper of a story to tell.” He poured soda in plastic cups and passed them around. “You guys all already know about my hands. Someone else needs to take a turn. Scout? Ivy?”

  “I’m going to talk,” I said. “In a minute…”

  Ivy flicked the rim of her cup. “I’ll go. But first I want to talk about Corey.”

  I leaned in. “Were you ever able to talk to her? How is she?”

  “Yeah, I busted all up in the office this morning. I couldn’t believe she was at school, but I don’t think her parents knew all the alerts were about her.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “Yeah. She said she wanted to get back to the Arrows and hoped Paige would take her off probation and let her back in after she’d been punished for whatever she did.”

  Scout paused with his hand over the tub of fruit. “Seriously? She’d go back?”

  “Not only would she, she considers it the end of the world as she knows it if she doesn’t get invited back.”

  Deacon slid pieces of wet melon onto a flimsy napkin. “What does that mean?”

  “That means Corey thinks…”

  “What? What does she think?”

  I remembered the emptiness in Corey’s eyes on Saturday night. “It means Corey would rather die than be in school without the protection of Paige and the Purple Arrows.”

  Dumbfounded Scout looked sad enough to cry. “But it’s a stupid club, and Paige is the one who hurt her. Why would she want to be a part of that? And won’t Paige be punished for what she did? All schools talk about is social media bullying.”

  I huffed out a small pathetic laugh. “No. She won’t be held accountable.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Corey won’t tattle. Because it’s hard to prove. Because even if Mr. Parrington suspects and calls Paige’s parents, what are they going to say? We’ll take care of it?”

  Scout leaned back against a pile of cushions. “You’re right. They have nothing. And I saw the plans for the school expansion in yesterday’s online community paper. Paige and Trinity’s dads’ law firm is a big donor, and they are co-chairs of both the building and the fundraising campaigns.”

  Deacon wadded his napkin and tossed it on the floor. “No. That’s not right. Paige doesn’t get to buy her way out of this. And wait. You read the online community newspaper?”

  “Forget the paper, and I don’t think it’s that,” I said. “Well, maybe that doesn’t hurt Paige’s chances of getting away with it, but the biggest problem is that Corey won’t tell.”

  Deac grabbed his phone and rocked on the couch as he studied it. “We’re supposed to call somebody or something. You said Corey is suicidal, right? That’s what you meant? C’mon. Who are we supposed to call?”

  Ivy reached out and touched his knee. “I think they know, Deacon.”

  “You think they know?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  She met his frantic gaze. “Because I know more about mental health issues than anybody my age should ever know. I have checklists. I know the signs. I know who to call, and I know when to act.” She looked at each of us. “But what I don’t know is what’s going on since I came to this school and met you all.”

  I took her hand. “It’s time you told us, Ivy. We want to help.”

  “I will, but be warned. You have no idea how sick I really am.”

  Chapter 28

  Ivy

  I looked past the near-bloody nubs of my fingernails to the tips of my well-worn boots.

  “So, here it is. My mother is mentally ill. Like a couple of breakdowns and a stay-or-two-in-an-institution mentally ill.”

  I didn’t look at them because I didn’t want to see how they looked back at me, so I kept talking.

  “She’s only functional if they have her medication regulated. Right now, she’s doing well, but the problem with seriously mentally ill people is that they sometimes think they’re so much better they can stop taking their meds. And when they do that, it can get pretty hairy because usually the people who live with them don’t know they’ve stopped until something happens.”

  I picked at the hem of my skirt and pressed each pleat with my flattened hand until I got enough breath to continue.

  And everyone still waited.

  “When I was younger, I was back and forth between my mom and Aunt Connie because she couldn’t stay steady. Now that I’m older, I can help her remember her meds. Everything is in threes—three in the morning, three different ones at night, and she sees her doctor every three months. And as long as we stay on that schedule and my mom goes to work, Aunt Connie will pay my tuition and not make me come live with her.”

  Mary was the first to speak. I always knew she would be if I ever had the nerve to spill my guts.

  “That’s rough, Ivy, but… You shouldn’t be embarrassed about your mom’s illness. She can’t help it.”

  Anger zipped through me. “Well, thank you for that Mary, and for your expertise on the subject. I’ll remember not to be embarrassed the next time she goes off her meds and takes a walk in a strip center by my school at three in the afternoon while wearing her Hello Kitty nightshirt and mismatched poofy slippers.”

  “No! That came out wrong. What I meant was not to be embarrassed in front of us! We’re not judging you. We’d never do that.”

  “Totally,” Deacon said. “We’ve all got stuff with our
parents.”

  Scout scooted forward. “Ummm… What about your dad?”

  “Non-issue. Aunt Connie has made it clear I’ll never have a relationship with who she calls the sperm donor. If I ever knew him, I was too young to remember, and they won’t talk about him.”

  “But your Aunt Connie is nice, right? She helps you?”

  “I guess. She can be a big B at times and that husband of hers is a real knob, but yeah. I think they’re trying to help my mom.”

  “Thanks for telling us,” Mary said. “Wow. Between that and Corey and Paige and everything else that’s happened… Wow.”

  I fought to hold back an eyeroll. “The only wow factor in all this, Mary, is that’s not the half of it.”

  Scout made that squeaky-wheezy sound he made when he was about to pop with more information than he was allowed to spout about.

  “Sorry,” Mary said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Deacon grabbed a handful of cheese. “What else is there?”

  Scout’s pleading, wide-eyed gaze both encouraged and terrified me. What would happen when all my secrets were out? It hadn’t gone well before. If I mentioned my weird nightmares to someone in the past, it almost always got out and turned into a whole thing. I’d lost friends and gained bullies.

  Nobody liked what they couldn’t understand, and nobody wanted to understand what made them uncomfortable.

  Not even adults.

  “I’m even sicker than my mom, or at least we’re in the same leaky boat.”

  Deacon stopped eating. “How so?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Look, Ivy, I’m the guy with fire paws, remember? There is no explanation, but it happens, and it changes things. When are you finally going to believe you’re among friends?”

  He was right. Scout was my best friend and had helped me keep my crazy tucked in and hadn’t broken my confidence. Mary and I had a small sticker bush between us most of the time, but even she was truly on my side. I could feel it.

  “All right. Here goes.” I sat up straight and gave my cup to Scout. “I have nightmares and they often come true. Not every dream I have, some are regular stupid dreams. Others play out exactly as I see them—an example of that would be the wobbly cart in the café. Not only that, I see things when I’m awake. I hallucinated about Mr. Berry and the car that day in the garden.”