“Sometimes we keep secrets or hold back the truth because we think we are protecting people,” Mr. Quirrel says. “Maybe she thought she was protecting you.”
***
“Diana, you dropped your pen,” I say, reaching down for it and holding it up to her just outside Biology.
"Thanks," she says under her breath as if she's irritated by my help. She takes the pen from my hands and turns and walks away from me.
"Diana, I know you're pissed at me," I call after her, "but would you just…" and she's not stopping.
I walk fast down the hallways, so when I crash into Lincoln around the corner, all our books scatter across the ground.
“I’m sorry, James,” Lincoln says, crouching to get his books.
“It’s fine. It’s my fault,” I say and pick up my books and then we stand to face each other. He probably hates me too, but just doesn’t show emotion like Diana.
“You good?” Lincoln asks, reading me immediately.
“Fine,” I say.
“Unlikely.”
“You don’t have to be nice with me,” I say. “I know you hate me as much as Diana does.”
Lincoln laughs. “She does have a quick temper, doesn’t she? But she means well. She cares for her friends, which is an important quality in a person. She’s just worried about Arya.”
“Which is why she hates me,” I say.
“She’s more so worried about another person trying to pull something like Eric did,” Lincoln says. “Refuses to let Arya walk the halls alone anymore.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” I ask.
“You mean, you don’t…” Lincoln says. “Shit,” he says under his breath.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I have to get to class,” Lincoln says and walks around me fast.
“Wait!” I call after him, but he doesn’t turn around.
***
Later that day, with the guys all at my locker, I ask them. “I have a question for you guys,” I say.
Samson and Richard are juggling a soccer ball between them while Malcolm is leaning against the lockers.
“Shoot,” Samson says, still concentrating on keeping the ball in the air.
"Lincoln mentioned something to me about not letting Arya walk the halls on her own, about being worried about something Eric did. Do you guys know anything about that?" I ask, and then I see them all freeze and look at each other. The ball drops to the floor, bouncing to the other side of the hallway. Richard runs to grab it and comes back slowly as if he doesn't want to be a part of the conversation. I look at all of them, but they don't look at me, they just look at each other. "What?" They are trying to decide who should talk first. "What is it?!" I yell at them.
“We don’t fully know,” Malcolm says, scratching his head.
"It's just a rumour, James," Samson says. "We don't know if it's true or not. Or how much of it is true."
“What don’t you know?” I ask. They look at each other. “Someone better tell me something and soon.”
“We thought it would be better if you didn’t know, James,” Richard says and Malcolm and Samson glare at him.
“Didn’t know what?” I ask.
"James," Malcolm says. "People are talking around the school. They're saying that Eric and Arya were talking, that she went crazy on him and kneed him in the balls, and then…"
“And then what?” I ask.
Malcolm looks to Samson. “He pushed her into the bathroom,” Samson says and then pauses so I can understand why. “But two Grade 12 football players went in there and stopped anything from happening.”
“He tried to…” I start.
“We don’t know, James,” Samson says. “People are just saying what they saw. We don’t know what really happened.”
“And you thought you should keep this from me?” I say.
“It’s a rumour, James,” Malcolm says. “We didn’t want to work you up over nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” I yell at them. “He was going to…”
“James, we don’t know…” Richard says.
“Who were the football players?” I ask.
“Alexander and Sebastian,” Richard says, and then I leave to go find the guys that will tell me the truth.
“Alexander, Sebastian,” I say when I reach their group of footballers.
“James,” Sebastian says, as they both break free of their group. “What’s up?”
“Arya,” I say, wasting no time to cut to the point. “You guys were the ones who…”
“I’m going to stop you right there, James,” Alexander says. “Neither of us is talking about it. All I’ll say is that some creep pushed that girl into the bathroom against her will, but nothing else happened.”
“Because you guys stopped it,” I say. “What did you stop, what was he going to do?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I don’t want to know because I’m scared of what the answer is, but it’s like I have to know. I have to know exactly what happened so I can be mad about the truth instead of just being angry about something I don’t know.
“That’s not for us to tell you,” Sebastian says. “All you and everyone else need to know is nothing happened.”
“He was forcing himself on her,” I say. “He was going to do that to her in the school…”
“James,” Alexander says sternly. “I don’t think we’re the ones you should be talking to about this. There’s a girl that knows what happened from start to finish that has an entire school treating her like a terrible person for something I don’t think she did.”
I look at him. “You don’t think she…”
“I don’t think she falsely accused anyone of anything,” Alexander says. “I think someone hurt her.”
“That’s not what she says though,” I say. “She says he didn’t hurt her.”
“Maybe he’s keeping her quiet,” Sebastian says. “Maybe he’s threatening her?”
"Look, James, guys are jerks," Alexander says. "There's this expectation of them getting lucky while girls are expected to remain untouched or whatever. Girls are the ones that get the labels, not guys. Guys just do whatever they want. And they are naturally stronger. They can overpower a girl. It's why we, as guys, have to stop this culture that a guy has to sleep with a girl to be considered 'cool'. Forcing yourself on a girl is the most shameful thing someone can do, and it can't be considered okay. The worst part is how often they get away with it."
“I know, I…”
“All of the people in that hallway saw her get pushed into that bathroom, James. All of them knew what he was going to do to her, and they did nothing,” Alexander says. “There isn’t a good enough reason to standby and do nothing.”
***
“Where is she?” I ask Diana at her locker.
“Homesick,” Diana says, not looking at me.
“Is she actually sick?” I ask.
Diana turns to face me. “Yes, now what do you want?”
“I just wanted to talk to her,” I say.
“Finally found out what happened, didn’t you?” Diana says, crossing her arms. “So it takes her getting assaulted for you to give a damn?”
“Diana,” I say. “I know I messed up. I’m trying to make this right.”
“It was in your hallway, James,” Diana says. “After she went to talk to you and then you left her, she slammed her hand on your locker out of frustration and they all started taunting her. And then Eric groped her, saying how no one would believe the girl who cried rape and when she fought back, that’s when he pushed her into the bathroom.”
“Diana, I didn’t know,” I say. “I just…”
“I know you didn’t, James,” Diana says. “But it doesn’t change what happened.”
“I’ll kill him,” I say out of anger.
“For you or for her?” Diana asks.
“Diana, he tried to rape my girlfriend,” I say.
“She’s not your girlfriend, James,” Diana says. “
I suggest you talk to Arya before you do anything to make this worse.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, but Diana puts a hand on it. “This is an in-person conversation, James.”
“He never would have done it if it wasn’t for me,” I say angrily. “I left her angry and upset in that hallway and then he…”
"James," Diana says sternly, "you are not responsible for what happened in the hallway that day. Eric and the rest of those fuckin' jerks that did nothing are responsible. Just be grateful that my new favourite football players stepped in when they did."
***
It's game day against West Side Academy, our biggest competition for winning the championship. They're coming here while the girls are playing away. I've tried to focus on this game for the past couple of days since our last game, which we did end up winning with no help from me. I've tried to focus but my thoughts keep going back to Arya.
I tried to stop by Arya’s house last night after work, but her dad just told me she was resting and too sick to come out for a conversation. I think I would have had better luck if her mom had answered the door. Her dad wasn’t happy about seeing me on his doorstep and was quick to try and get rid of me.
“James?” I hear Arya’s voice from behind the door of my open locker. Oh, thank goodness.
I slam the door of my locker, eager to look into her eyes again. “Arya,” I say when the locker door closes, but it’s not her. It’s a younger version of her and my heart just sinks. “I’m so sorry, Mia. You sound just like your sister.”
“Sounds like you were hoping it was my sister,” she says with a smile. They both have the same smile, and both look so alike in so many ways.
“I just…” I begin.
“It’s okay, James,” Mia says. “Arya doesn’t know I’m here talking to you. I just wanted to tell you that there’s more to the story that Lisa told everyone than what you think, as I’m sure you’re already aware. I tried to get Arya to tell you the whole story, but she doesn’t want to bring you into her mess. She doesn’t think you deserve it.”
"She's protecting me," I say, repeating the words of Mr. Quirrel.
“In a sense, yes,” Mia says. “At least that’s what she thinks. I tried to tell her that she could trust you to keep what happened a secret. She thought the less you knew the better. Better to stay away from you.”
"You know what really happened," I say. Sisters always keep each other's secrets.
“Yes,” Mia says. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell you. If you are going to hear the whole story, you need to hear it from Arya.”
“Thank you, Mia,” I say. “She’s lucky to have you as a sister.”
“I’m the one who is lucky,” Mia says. “Now, don’t keep my sister waiting too much longer. I’ve never seen my sister refuse dessert so many times these past couple of weeks.”
I laugh. “Is she here today? She was sick yesterday and then I tried to stop by last night, but your dad wouldn’t let me in.”
Mia laughs to herself. “Our dad is protective,” Mia says. “But she actually was sick, so don’t take it personally. She wanted to rest for the game today so she’s not coming to school until lunch.”
***
I walk by the hallway that Arya's locker is in on my way to class. I couldn't find her at lunch, and now fourth period is about to start. The hallways are mostly empty with almost everyone already in class at this point. I see her going through her locker, with Eleanor next to her. They both have their soccer gear on, just subbing out cleats for sandals until they get to the field. Arya's hair is in a bun and she's wearing the dark blue jersey to represent our school. How does she feel wearing blue when for the past two years she always wore green? Now she is facing the school that she used to go to. She has to go back to the school she was once at, play on her home soccer field with another school. Today is hard for her, she needs to focus, and I can't disturb it.
Arya
I feel eyes on me, but when I turn to look down the hall, there’s nothing. No one. But I swear there was someone there.
James
If I had known that Arya was having as much trouble with her soccer performance as I was, I wouldn't have left her in that hallway. If I had known what was going to happen later that day, I definitely wouldn't have left her in that hallway. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe worse, maybe better, but I'll never know. My gut told me to go and talk to her. It told me to walk down that hallway and she would be happy that I came to her. But then my brain told me she needed to focus, that she didn't need a distraction or to be emotional right before a big game. Bringing up what Eric did to her would probably bring back unwanted memories and I couldn't do that to her. I listened to my brain because I thought that was the responsible thing to do. I thought I was doing her a favour and not being selfish by coming up to her right before she was about to leave. I thought I would talk to her later when we both weren't under the pressure of playing our rival school. I thought I was doing the right thing.
Chapter 40 – Kung Fu Fighting
“Everybody was Kung Fu fighting / Those kids were fast as lightning / In fact it was a little bit frightening / But they fought with expert timing” – Kung Fu Fighting, Carl Douglas
No POV
The West Side Academy girls and boys both won their games. Both games were close. Both Mr. Quirrel and Mr. Sprout thought that if their star players had been up to their usual standard, they would have won. Something that they’ll need to take care of before their teams meet again, which will probably be in the final for the championship.
Arya
"Did you become stupid as well?" I hear a voice say behind me as I'm walking off the field to head to the parking lot. When I turn, I see Peggy, Grade 12, and West Side soccer captain. Blonde hair in a messy bun, eyes with heavy dark makeup, switching out her soccer socks and cleats for expensive flip-flops. I never really liked her. She actually looks like Lisa, what a coincidence!
“What?” I say to her.
“I asked if you became stupid as well when you switched to East Side,” Peggy says. “Because you sure became a terrible soccer player there. I didn’t realize that it was that bad of a school.”
"Shut up," I say, not having the energy to deal with her right now.
"Not my fault you switched schools and became a terrible soccer player," Peggy says. "Although it does help our cause. Everyone was so concerned when they heard you were playing for East Side. I told them not to worry. Clearly, I was right."
“My ride is waiting for me,” I say. “If you’ll excuse me.” And I turn away from her.
"We all know why you really left West Side, Arya," Peggy says to me and I turn to face her. "How could you do something like that? Even for you, that's low." I glare at her. "News travels fast in a small town, Arya, you know that. It's fitting East Side should get our scraps, but I wonder if even East Side still wants you around? What's lower than that no budget school, Arya? I don't think there is a worse school?"
"This conversation is over," I say and turn away.
“Nice seeing you, Arya!” Peggy calls after me and I have to hold my wrist to keep myself from showing her a certain finger on my hand. The bitch.
I got a ride back to East Side from one of the girls on the team so I could ride my bike home. The team was tense and upset with the loss, and although no one said it, I know they were blaming me. Well, Isabella said it, but her voice has just become background noise to me now, so I don’t even listen to her. At the start of the game, the West Side girls were all over me because they saw me as their biggest threat. But when I continued to make mistakes, they knew they didn’t need to keep a close eye on me anymore and focused all their attention on shutting down Isabella which irritated me even more.
I get out of my teammate’s car. “Thanks for the ride!” I say as I close the door and make my way across the parking lot. Down below, I see the senior boys have finished their soccer game as well, with just scattered blue and green jerseys ev
erywhere talking in groups. The junior game will start soon. I continue walking along the top of the grassed hill around the school to get to my bike.
"Arya, it's been a long time," I hear a voice from behind me. The voice I never wanted to hear again, coming from the guy that I never wanted to see again. I don't want to turn around, I want to just keep walking and pretend I didn't hear him. But I don't, my body turns to him before my brain can tell it to stop. The last conversation we had was months ago, and here I was hoping I would never speak to him again. Stupid me for riding my bike to school, but I came late, and it was the only way to get in. Should've just gone straight to West Side and never come here today, but I was nervous about going to West Side on my own. I wanted to go with my teammates on the bus to act as a shield at my old school. He's wearing that stupid grin of his, his chestnut hair messy from just having played a soccer game. His face looks slightly bruised, but maybe it's my imagination. I forgot how tall he is. He has to be over six feet. "I see you're playing soccer here," he says, pointing towards my jersey. "Blue looks good on you, although, I much prefer you in green."
“Thanks,” I say. “I should be going.”
“Wait!” he says quickly before I can turn away. “I just want to see how you are, Arya. It’s been a while. How are you liking your new school?” he says as he looks towards the building. “Seems like it has character.”
"It's been great, thanks," I say, wanting this conversation to be over.
“So, you don’t miss West Side?” he asks.
"I don't miss you," I say flatly.
"Ouch," he says, putting a hand over his heart. "That hurt."
East Side Academy Page 27
