THE PRETENDER: Black Mountain Academy

by Brent, Cora

  My kid brother doesn’t need to know all the sordid details. Still, I feel like I need to confess to someone. “There’s a possibility I might have overreacted about something.”

  He snorts. “Impossible. Teenage girls never overreact about anything ever.”

  I throw a dishtowel at him. “Says the fifteen-year-old expert.”

  He grins and cocks his head. “If it’s bugging you then make it right.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  Because the truth is, if Ben and I can’t get through a single day without erupting into a furious argument, then we don’t stand a chance.

  And anyway, what kind of future is there with a guy who says you can’t ask him any questions?

  Frankie throws the dishtowel back at me. “You need to try. Okay?”

  It’s funny that he really has no idea what my problem is and yet he can offer outstanding advice. “Okay.”

  After Frankie leaves I wash the dishes, check on Adela and then walk to the bus stop with a mix of anxiety and hope. Maybe it’s all for nothing and after yesterday’s spectacle Ben has decided that I’m not worth the trouble. But Ben never shows up at all. Since the morning he swaggered up to the bus stop on his first day at BMA I don’t think he’s ever been absent.

  This might have nothing to do with me.

  Maybe he just wanted an extra day of vacation or woke up with the flu.

  But by mid morning I’m sunk in a Bah, humbug! level of grumpiness while everyone around me is on a holiday high. So I decide to seek out someone who might have an answer.

  “Trina!” I catch up with my friend en route to the cafeteria.

  “Hey.” She takes my arm. “You’re not eating in the newsroom today. The new issue is live. It’s time to celebrate. Come and dine with the rest of us slobs.”

  “I’m not hungry. But I need to talk to your boyfriend for a minute.”

  She doesn’t seem surprised. “Is this about Ben?”

  There’s no reason to lie. “Sort of. Yes.”

  She grins and tugs me along. “Let’s go find my boy then.”

  Kent Dresher isn’t tough to locate. He’s sitting on top of a table in the middle of a bushel of BMA jocks. I don’t really want to get close to that viper’s nest, particularly when I spot the repellent Todd Bellinger, but Trina drags me right over there. When I get closer it looks like Kent is only talking to Corby King and some other guy who’s holding a hockey stick in one hand and a cheeseburger in the other.

  Kent hops off the table and grabs up Trina for a quick feel while I stand around in all my awkward glory, knowing that at least a few pairs of unfriendly eyes are checking me out.

  Trina giggles but then shoos her boyfriend’s hands away from her ass because she remembers that I’m waiting. “Stand down. Camden needs a word.”

  Kent hardly looks at me. “What’s up?”

  “Over there,” Trina says and gestures to the only empty table in sight. “Too many open ears in this corner.”

  She’s right. Todd Bellinger and his boys have momentarily quit comparing dicks or whatever it is that guys of their ilk talk about. Todd is watching us with a predatory gleam in his eye.

  He and his friends are still watching when I take a seat at the table with Trina and Kent but at least now they are too far away to hear anything. Kent is more interested in trying to prod Trina into giving him a lunchroom lap dance than in having a conversation but she rolls her eyes and motions that I should start talking so I blurt out a question.

  “Do you know where Ben is today?”

  Kent stops slobbering on his girlfriend and blinks at me. “Beltran? No. He isn’t here?”

  “Do you see him?” Trina pokes her boyfriend in his mammoth muscles. “Obviously he’s not here.”

  Kent shrugs. “Well, I’m not hiding him in my pocket.” Then he focuses on me and there’s a spark of understanding as he remembers something that must have slipped his mind. “Why don’t you know where he is, Galway? You’re his girlfriend.”

  I straighten up. “I am not Ben’s girlfriend.”

  And then, a distant, hopeful part of me asks, Or am I?

  “Oh.” Kent frowns.

  “Wait, did he tell you that I’m his girlfriend?”

  “I think he did.” Kent yawns. “Yeah, he told me yesterday.”

  I am not expecting this news. It changes the picture I had in my head, the picture of Ben flanked by all the jock jerks and crowing about how he got a piece of the uptight newspaper nerd. Maybe that’s not how it was at all. Kent isn’t all that bright and doesn’t really have a low volume setting. It’s possible that Ben was just confiding in his friend and the conversation got away from him.

  It’s also possible that I should have approached Ben more calmly and listened to his explanation before blowing up and announcing that getting involved with him was a mistake.

  Finally, it’s possible that I might really really suck.

  Trina has already accepted my sudden relationship as fact. “You guys need to get your couples photo! There’s still time to make it into the yearbook.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I grumble while the cafeteria erupts with noise. Cole Travis and his band buddies are collected at the front of the room and plugging in music equipment.

  “What’s going on?” Trina asks, squinting.

  Kent is fiddling with her blouse buttons. “Who cares? Let’s get out of here.”

  Cole switches on a microphone and launches into a hard rock, profane version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Somehow I don’t believe this spontaneous performance has been faculty approved.

  “Do you have his cell number?” I need to practically scream the question over all the noise.

  Kent looks up from Trina’s cleavage. “Huh?”

  “Do you have Ben’s number?” This question is shouted at an unfortunate pause in music. People hear me. They turn and stare. Fine. Let them stare.

  I move closer to the Trina/Kent human pretzel and lean close so I can be heard. “I really need to talk to him.”

  Kent is confused. “You’re his girlfriend but you don’t have his number?”

  “Just give it to her,” Trina orders and when Kent doesn’t move fast enough she snatches his phone, scrolls through it and then nods. “There you go, Camden. I just sent it to you.”

  I can feel my phone vibrate with an incoming text. “Thanks.”

  Kent is now trying to haul Trina out of the room, presumably to go perform something carnal. She does not appear to mind but before she goes she wraps me in a hug.

  “Have a great Christmas. We’re leaving for the ski lodge tomorrow but give me a call over break, okay?”

  “I will.”

  While I watch Trina exiting with Kent’s arm draped over her shoulders I realize that she’s probably the best friend I have at Black Mountain these days. And yet I refused to tell her the barest outline of what’s been happening between me and Ben.

  “Why don’t you have any friends, Camden?”

  When he said that to me I was annoyed, offended. Because I have friends. Plenty of friends. I have friends I say hello to in the hallway, friends I greet in class, friends I exchange classroom notes with. I just don’t have friends I can cry with or confess my own weaknesses to. No, I don’t have those in Black Mountain or in Devil Valley.

  The band revs up another number and begins blasting obscene lyrics to the tune of Winter Wonderland and this is when the principal, Mr. D, steps in and relieves them of their microphone.

  Rather than remain here amidst all the holiday hysteria I choose to get a ham sandwich from the deli counter and retreat to the newsroom. It’s completely empty and usually I revel in the opportunity to get things done in peace and quiet, but today there’s a twinge of loneliness. I could start thinking about the first issue after the new year because I’m a big fan of planning ahead. Instead I withdraw my phone and stare at an empty screen as I sort through words in my head.

  I’m really sorry about
yesterday.

  I send the text and then stare at it for a long time. And then, hastily, before I can really think about it, I send another one.

  I miss you.

  There’s no answer by the time the bell rings to signal the end of lunch hour. There’s no answer throughout the afternoon classes either and no answer by the time I step off the bus and into Devil Valley.

  I’m starting to feel a little bit of self pity. Ben’s ‘no friends’ comment is haunting me. But while it’s true that I don’t have a stable filled with close friends I do have something else.

  I have my family.

  The last bell at Devil Valley High is about to ring and I decide to surprise my brother. We can walk home together, maybe bake some chocolate chip cookies and then watch a Disney movie with Adela if she feels up to it.

  Devil Valley High is a sad eyesore compared to Black Mountain Academy. It’s ancient, built in the nineteen fifties. Last year a portion of the roof collapsed but luckily it happened over spring break and no one was in the building. Sometimes there’s talk about bond measures that would pay for a new high school but it never happens. When I was little I assumed I’d graduate from here just like my parents did.

  The final bell rang only a moment ago and students are already pouring out of the building. I recognize many of them because we used to go to school together and because the town of Devil Valley is small, smaller than Black Mountain. A few of them glance at me with curiosity and I feel rather conspicuous standing here in my BMA skirt.

  “And then I told that bitch that she better step back or I’ll yank that nasty ass hair out of her fucking head!”

  Instantly I recognize the voice of my long ago best friend. Bridget Spinelli is leading a squad of cheerleading followers out of the building while promising severe acts of violence. I stand still as she struts past and then breathe a sigh of relief when she fails to notice me.

  No such luck when the McGill brothers appear. Alex pauses at the top of the steps and a slow, vicious grin spreads across his face. He elbows his brother, who looks at me, grins and rubs his hand over his crotch. Charming. I feel lucky when they appear to lose interest and wander off toward the ice covered athletic fields.

  Seeing them reminds me of the day I ran into Dee’s. I still don’t know for sure what Ben said to them but it was enough to make them leave. Remembering that day brings a smile to my lips and I pull out my phone on the off chance that I didn’t hear an incoming text. There isn’t one.

  “Cam?” Frankie’s face is full of worry when he finds me standing out here. “What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”

  Crap. I should have known that would be his first thought if I showed up here out of the blue.

  “No, not at all. She’s fine.”

  He exhales, then raises an eyebrow. “Then what are you doing here?”

  I bump his shoulder. He’s getting tall. He might be taller than me in another year. “Just wanted to walk home with my brother. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” He’s all smiles now. “Let’s go.”

  “Merry Christmas, Frankie!” A girl waves from the top step. She’s young. She’s cute. She’s looking at my little brother with the hopeful eyes of a girl with a major crush.

  He waves back but says nothing.

  I wait until we’re out of range of the other kids before I scold him.

  “You should have wished her a Merry Christmas back.”

  “Who, Leesha?” He shrugs. “She’s all right.”

  “She likes you.”

  He’s embarrassed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I know. Not sure I want that whole girlfriend deal yet though.”

  “It does come with complexities.”

  Frankie laughs. “Like you’d know.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I never see you giving any guy a chance.”

  “Well.” That little piece of honesty stuns me a bit. “Maybe that has changed.”

  He makes a face. “If it has, don’t tell me about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to know that some creep’s got his hands on my sister.”

  “Aw. That’s kind of sweet in a way. Frankie, will you help me bake cookies this afternoon?”

  “Sure, if I can eat the batter.”

  We leave the school grounds behind and despite the cold we talk and laugh and take our time on the walk. It’s a nice break from all my Ben angst and I feel lighter than I have all day.

  I’m also not looking behind me and the sudden iron grip on my arm is so shocking that I don’t even scream.

  “Look who doesn’t have a bodyguard today.” There’s breath on my cheek, sour and hot.

  “What the hell?” shouts Frankie before he’s punched in the stomach by Damian McGill. But Frankie jumps right up and tackles him to the ground. They roll into the side yard of the corner house, which has sat vacant since the eighty-year-old owner, Mrs. Harcourt, died in her sleep last year. Since then it’s been broken into on countless occasions for parties or other mischief and no matter how many times they board up the windows and doors there’s always a way inside.

  “Leave him alone!” I try to twist away from Alex McGill and yelp with pain when my arm is yanked behind my back and up, to the point where my shoulder feels like it will disconnect.

  Alex propels me forward, toward the tumbling mess of Frankie and Damian. A hard shove sends me sprawling and it’s only by chance and a couple of inches that I miss cutting my head open on a rusted abandoned hand trowel. My knees take the brunt of the impact but there’s no time to lick my wounds. Frankie is about to get Damian pinned in a wrestling move when Alex closes in and kicks Frankie in the ribs. Frankie can hold his own in the wrestling ring and would be a match for either one of them alone but he can’t take them both. Not now, not when he’s only fifteen and they’re years older, already the size of grown men.

  Frankie’s eyes are wild when they find me. “Get out of here, Camden!” he yells an instant before a fist connects with his jaw.

  “STOP!” I fly at them and I don’t know how to fight but I attack with everything I have; fists and kicks and when a hand cups my mouth I bite its fingers.

  “Bitch!” Damian releases me with a push.

  Alex has got Frankie face down on the ground now, his right arm up twisted all the way up behind his back so that it can be snapped if Alex feels like snapping it.

  Frankie screams, “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH MY SISTER!”

  Alex is grinning as he looks from one of us to the other. “What kind of freaky shit goes on at your house? She don’t look like your sister.”

  “Let him go. Please.” I know I sound pathetic. I could shout for help. If only there were someone who might hear.

  The calculating look that sweeps over Alex’s face is hideous. “I’ll let him go.”

  I hold my breath, knowing there’s more to come.

  And, to my horror, I’m right.

  Alex jerks his head towards the empty house. “We can get in through a broken window in the back. Then we can have a party.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  His smile drops to a glare. “I told you once that I’d get you someday. That day is today.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Damian produces a knife. “You have a choice, Miss Camden. You can come hang out with us for a little while and have some fun. Or you can go home and explain how little brother over here lost an ear.”

  “Or an eye,” Alex chimes in with a shrug. “We’ll see.”

  Frankie makes one last attempt to wriggle free. Alex yanks on his arm and Frankie issues a moan of agony that breaks my heart.

  I won’t cry. I won’t cry.

  I’ll act like I’m cooperating. I’ll go with them to the abandoned Harcourt house and somehow I’ll figure out a way to escape.

  Even as I think this I know it’s untrue. Once the McGill brothers get me inside that empty
house I won’t be going anywhere until they let me.

  Mustering all the strength that I don’t really have I fight to keep my voice even. “Don’t hurt him and I’ll go with you.”

  Alex smiles.

  Damian smiles.

  Frankie cries.

  And Ben makes a promise. “You are both fucking DEAD.”

  At first I don’t even know how to register the fact that Ben is here. It’s as if he dropped out of the sky like some kind of galactic superhero.

  Damian slices wildly with the switchblade but Ben sidesteps him with ease and delivers a savage martial arts kick to the vulnerable back of Damian’s knee. Damian crumples like paper and falls to the ground. But because he’s still holding the knife and because Ben is no fool, Ben stomps on Damian’s hand with the heel of his boot. I don’t know if the crack I hear is the sound of bones breaking but I hope that it is.

  Ben kicks the knife away and turns his attention to Alex, who’s still got Frankie down on the ground.

  “I warned you.” Ben’s voice is low, menacing, every bit the voice of a man who means what he says and intends to carry out his threats. “I fucking warned you to stay away from her.”

  And Alex McGill actually looks afraid for once. It’s a nice thing to see.

  Damian tries to sit up. “My hand is broke!”

  Alex complains. “We were just messing around.”

  Ben takes a step closer. “Let the kid up.”

  Alex takes too long to obey. Ben dishes out another brutal kick and catches Alex in the chin. Alex falls to his back and flails. I want to clap my hands in delight. But instead I rush to Frankie.

  “Are you hurt? How bad?”

  His jaw is swollen and he struggles to get to his feet with a groan. “Why didn’t you run, Cam? You should have run.”

  I try to help him up but he’s heavy. “Because I would never leave my brother behind.”

  “You motherfuckers.” Ben’s not finished with the McGills. “You think you can just do whatever the fuck you want to anyone you want!”

  Alex scoots backwards and holds up a hand in surrender. “Fuck, chill out, Beltran.”

  “YOU DON’T GET TO KILL AND WALK AWAY!”

  “What?” Damian is nearly sobbing as he continues to try to stand. “What the fuck are you talking about? We didn’t kill no one!”