"I didn't know you felt emotion," I say.
“Now you are mocking me,” he says. “I heard the secret of why you left got out.” I glare at him, “Shame you couldn’t just keep a low profile for what? Three terms? It only took you one for everything to get out.” No one is around us. No one is paying attention to us and no one can hear us. “Somehow, I knew you would go into the spotlight again, girls like you always do. How do your classmates like you now?”
James
At the bottom of the field, talking with Samson, Richard and Malcolm, I look up and see her. But not just her, I see her talking to the striker from West Side. The one I have hated since Grade 9. I shouldn’t butt myself into her business, she’s not my girl right now. I should leave her alone, but I just can’t. My legs start taking me up the hill towards them without my brain even getting a chance to tell me to think twice about it.
“What are you doing, James?” Samson calls after me.
"I don't trust him," I say to myself and I have no idea if any of them heard me.
I walk up to them, neither of them noticing me. I come up behind him, just catching the last of what he’s saying to her. “I did nothing wrong, Arya,” he says. “You’re the one that took things too far.”
“I took things too far?” Arya says, her voice starting to get heated. “You’re impossible, you know that? The fact that you can’t even think that you did something wrong just shows what a terrible person you still are.”
“You know,” he says, “I kind of miss your fiery side and you yelling at me.” He smiles at her.
I’ve never seen Arya like this before. I’ve seen her mad and upset, but not like this. She has a special hatred for the guy standing in front of her.
“You’re the same,” Arya says angrily. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
"Neither have you," he says. "Still have a temper you can't control. And still trying to maintain your 'innocent', 'virginal' personality while dressing like a slut. I saw you at that party. It's a game for you. Even with a boyfriend, you love guys falling all over you and being a tease. It's who you are, Arya."
“Are you just here to annoy me?” Arya says. “Because I already hate you, you don’t need to give me more reasons.”
“Hate is a strong word, Arya,” he says. “I really did want to know how you are. You were avoiding me at the party.”
“Forgive me for not wanting to chat with you,” Arya says sarcastically. “I thought our last conversation seemed to be a good fuckin’ send-off."
He laughs. “I sometimes wondered if the slap was too much. But now, it seems it wasn’t enough since you are still an angry bitch who can’t let things go.”
"I left, Henri!" Arya yells at him. "I left West Side. I left my school, my friends, my soccer team. I left everything behind. I did what your dad told me to do. I left and I told no one about why I switched schools. Some blonde bitch, that was jealous of me dating the guy she likes, somehow found out why I left and told everyone. And again, Henri, I took the fall again. Everyone thinks I had sex with a guy and then regretted it or that I had sex with a guy and then wanted more from the relationship and he didn't. That I went crazy and accused him of rape. And I have let them believe it. I have done everything your dad has said.” Arya brushes the hair out of her face, and I can see her getting emotional. “And it has cost me everything. What more do you want from me?”
“Tragic story, Arya,” Henri says. “But you were trying to ruin my life. Maybe you should have been better at keeping a lower profile. Not hook up with that East Sider the second you transferred. Did you really think dating the ‘popular soccer star’ was a good way to stay out of the spotlight, Arya?”
She glares at him. She’s angry and upset. I want to step in, but I’m selfish. This might be my only chance to find out what really happened to Arya.
“How does Mia feel, Arya?” Henri says. “It must be hard for her to have a psychotic sister that keeps ruining her life. Are you going to cost her another high school, Arya?”
"Fuck you," Arya says angrily.
“How is she?” Henri asks. “I actually want to know.”
“No,” Arya says, shaking her head. “You don’t talk about her. You don’t ask about her. And you don’t come fuckin’ near her.”
No. It can’t be.
"Was it worth it, Arya?" Henri asks. "Was spray painting my locker worth all this?"
“We both know it wasn’t a lie,” Arya says.
“You’re crazy, Arya, has anyone ever told you that?” Henri asks. “You have no idea what you are talking about. Maybe if you weren’t this ‘perfect’, ‘untouched’ virgin, you would know what consent is.”
"Fuck you!" she yells at him. "I don't need to have had sex to know what you did was rape! She's fourteen, Henri. Do you realize what you did to her?"
But it is.
“I did nothing wrong, Arya,” Henri says.
“You’ll never understand,” Arya says. “Boys like you never do. But what you did in one night is something my sister will have to live with forever.”
“She wanted it as much as I did,” he says. “I have no idea what lies she feed you about what happened. But that’s what they are. Lies.”
And that’s what she’s been keeping from me. It was never Arya he hurt. He went after her sister. She wasn’t protecting me. She was protecting Mia. I’m a bigger idiot than I thought.
"I'm done with this conversation," Arya says, visibly upset. Neither of them has noticed me because they are so deep into their conversation. When Arya turns away from him, he grabs her wrist and pulls her back to him.
“This conversation is done when I say it is,” he says to her face and she just glares at him. “What? No smart ass remarks now, Arya? You know I love them. Don’t disappoint me now.”
"Keep your hands off her," I say, finally making my presence known to them. He lets go of her and then just smiles at me as I stand next to Arya.
"James," he says. "How are you? I see you didn't play up to your usual standard today, thanks for making it an easy win for us. Good to stay fresh for the finals."
“I can assure you, you won’t be winning in the finals this year, Henri,” I say. “It’ll be just like last year and the year before that.”
“There’s always room for change,” Henri says. “The only thing your school has over us is athletics, imagine if we take that over too?” Henri looks between Arya and me. “I’m sensing tension between you and your boyfriend, Arya.”
"He's not my boyfriend," Arya says and it hurts to hear it even though it's technically true.
“Oh,” Henri says. “Did he break up with you when he found out why you left West Side?” I clench my fists unconsciously and then he looks at me. “Don’t worry, James.” Henri smiles. “If you’re scared Arya is going to do to you what she did to me, don’t be. I think Arya learned her lesson last time.” Henri turns to Arya. “Didn’t you, Arya?”
"You raped her sister!" I say so fast, so heated with anger, the words tumbling out. Henri turns to glare at me, registering what I just said to him, and then he turns flared nostrils and angry eyes to Arya.
“You fuckin’ lying slut. What did you tell him?” Henri yells at her and when she doesn’t respond immediately, he takes his hand and closes it around her throat. “What did you tell him, bitch?”
I grab his wrist, pushing him away from Arya so that I'm the one that is facing him, and Arya is behind me. "Don't you dare touch her," I say to him, now more aware of his height over me, his anger radiating off of him.
“Don’t believe whatever that whore has told you,” Henri says. “She’s just a psychotic bitch looking for attention.”
I punch him. It's like my arm had a mind of its own and it couldn't stand to hear one more thing come out of Henri's mouth. Henri feels his jaw where I connected it with my fist, turning back to me. "She's not worth this, Fox," Henri says and I see him prepare to give me the same punch I gave him, just worse.
“Hey
!” a voice calls in the distance. Henri stops at the sound of the voice and we all look to see the coach of the West Side soccer team jogging up the hill towards us. “What is this?” he says.
Arya
I look at Mr. Carrow square in the face, remembering vividly the last time I saw him. He looks at me and within an instant he recognizes me, and his look turns menacing. “What are you doing here, Young?” Mr. Carrow says to Henri angrily.
“We were just talking…” Henri begins.
“To her?!” he yells at Henri in a voice that frightens me and probably anyone that’s within hearing distance of us. This once two-person conversation has now grabbed the attention of almost everyone outside.
“It’s nothing…” Henri tries to say.
“Leave,” Mr. Carrow says sternly to Henri.
“But Coach…”
"I said leave!" Mr. Carrow says in a voice that means 'do not make me repeat myself'. Henri obeys, turning away to go towards the parking lot to get into the super expensive car his rich daddy bought for him.
“Can’t just leave the boy alone, now can you?” Mr. Carrow says to me menacingly.
“He’s the one who came up to me!” I argue.
“They should have transferred you to a school across the country,” Mr. Carrow says. “Only then would all our minds be put at ease.”
“So you can protect your precious superstar athlete?” I say accusingly and Mr. Carrow glares at me.
“What happened here?” Mr. Quirrel says, jogging up behind Mr. Carrow.
“Your soccer player here punched my striker!” Mr. Carrow says, gesturing towards James.
"Is this true?" Mr. Quirrel asks James as if he didn't hear about or see the punch before he got here.
“He put his hands on Arya and was insulting her!” James pleads his case to Mr. Quirrel.
"Of course she had something to do with it!" Mr. Carrow says, glaring at me. Mr. Quirrel looks at all of us, knowing he has to make a judgment call that satisfies the West Side soccer coach.
“Arya, James,” Mr. Quirrel says. “You’ll have to go to the principal’s office.”
“What about Henri?” James says.
“That’ll be for Mr. Carrow and West Side Academy to deal with,” Mr. Quirrel says. “Not us.”
Chapter 42 – Please Forgive Me
“Please forgive me, I know not what I do / Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you / Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through / Please forgive me, if I need you like I do / Please believe me, every word / I say is true / Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you” – Please Forgive Me, Bryan Adams
Arya
I look straight ahead to where Mrs. Slughorn is typing away at her computer behind the front desk. I’m sitting on one edge of the three-person burgundy couch while James is on the other, waiting for the principal to call us to her office. Mr. Quirrel has come and gone from the principal’s office, passing by us both without saying a word. The only sound is Mrs. Slughorn’s fingers on her computer keys.
“Arya,” James whispers to me. I can’t bear to look at him. He knows now. He said it and now Henri thinks I told James. He overheard my conversation with Henri. How could I be so stupid? Henri just gets me so worked up so easily. He’s the one guy that can do that without even saying a word. And now James has planted himself in the mess I was trying to keep him out of. “Arya, please look at me.”
I turn to him slowly, looking at those eyes that just want to understand. "Do you understand now why I couldn't tell you anything?"
“I do,” James says. “I’m sorry.”
“Henri now thinks I am the one who told you,” I say. “I was trying to keep you out of this mess but here you are.”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” James says, trying to make me smile.
"Don't use that with me," I say, but it works.
"He hurt your sister," James says and it brings back the memories of last semester. The memories I've been trying to push down so that they couldn't resurface. "I heard what he said. He hurt her, and you were protecting her."
I look at James. Now that he knows the truth, he understands. “I’d do anything to protect my family. It was never about not trusting you, James.”
“I know that now,” James says. “I was an idiot to ever let you go.”
“You were,” I joke with him and he smiles at me. “But I don’t blame you for being mad at me, I don’t know what I would have done in your position.”
“Ms. Secord, Mr. Fox,” our principal, Ms. Sinistra, says stepping out of her office to call us. We both get up and follow her to her office. We sit in the two chairs in front of her desk as she closes the door and returns to her chair. “So, Mr. Quirrel told me about what happened outside. Mr. Fox, you know that violence is not tolerated in this school.”
"Yes, Ms. Sinistra," James says.
“He was defending me…” I start.
"Mr. Quirrel told me everything already," Ms. Sinistra says. "And although violence is not tolerated, this boy from West Side Academy sounds like a fairly awful individual." Ms. Sinistra smiles at us. "It is your first offense, Mr. Fox, so I will let you off with a warning, but please don't let me see you here again."
"Yes, Ms. Sinistra," James says.
“You may leave, Mr. Fox,” Ms. Sinistra says.
James stands up. “But what about Arya, Ms. Sinistra? She didn’t do anything wrong. She was just a victim.”
“I said leave, Mr. Fox,” Ms. Sinistra says more sternly, and James reluctantly leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
“There have been rumours circulating about you Arya,” Ms. Sinistra says. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
"No, Ms. Sinistra," I say.
“If someone has hurt you and tried to keep you quiet, you can tell me, Arya,” Ms. Sinistra says. “I very well know what men are capable of and the destruction they cause. You can’t take it lying down.” Do you know what’s happened in your own school, Ms. Sinistra? Do you know that a boy pushed me into a bathroom to sexually assault me while your students stood by and did nothing? Do you know the culture of your school? No, of course not. Neither did Principal Filch.
“Thank you, Ms. Sinistra,” I say. “But I am not in that situation. May I please leave?”
“Of course, Arya,” she says. “But my door is available whenever you do want to talk about the situation you are in.”
When I walked out of the office, past Mrs. Slughorn still at her desk, James is there, leaning up against one of the lockers, waiting for me.
"Arya," James says when he sees me and comes right up to me, making sure not to touch me. James had been everything to me, and then, when everything went south, it felt like he abandoned me. But James was fighting his own demons as well during this time we spent apart, trying to understand why the girl he had shared everything with had not done the same with him. All I wanted was to be back with him and let him in. He wants to be a part of everything, even if some parts of my past are ugly. I go up to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around me completely, holding me as close to him as he possibly can. "Forgive me, Arya," he whispers in my ear.
"Always," I say. We slowly release each other and then look into each other's eyes.
“There’s somewhere I want to take you,” James says. “Get changed and we’ll go.”
***
We both sub out our soccer clothes for something more comfortable. Me, in jeans shorts and a loose black t-shirt, and James, in dark jeans and dark blue polo.
“Where are we going?” I ask him in the car as he’s driving.
"You're still as impatient as you were on our first date," James says. "We're almost there." And then James turns into a parking lot by the docks overlooking the river, nearby a park. He shuts off the engine. "Let's go."
When we get out, he comes around to my side and grabs my hand, leading me away from the docks and the park. We walk up a grassed hill covered with trees that block the des
tination of where James is taking me. We reach an old black gate and I realize at once where he has taken me. He opens the gate slowly and we both walk in through the overgrown grass. James never lets go of my hand and when we walk in further, I can see the tombstones of different people scattered across the small encloser. Inside, the place is well kept, there are probably about fifty tombstones here. There is a single willow tree with a bench underneath and the tombstones are ordered neatly to make passing through easy, with a single dirt path running down the center. James takes me to the second last row to the tombstone closest to the fence on the right side. When we stop in front of it, I read it.
Charles Stuart Fox
Loving Husband to Carol Lynn Fox and Father to James, Rachel, and Grace
Beloved by Family, Cherished by Friends
I read the dates which confirm December 29th, over two years ago, like James told me. "He would have loved you," James says, staring at the grave.
"I'm sorry I didn't get to meet him," I say, looking at James, leaning up against him, and wrapping my arm around his.
“I used to come here a lot,” James says. “It was the only way I could feel close to him. That and soccer, he loved soccer.” James just continues to stare at his father’s tombstone.
“What about now?” I ask. “How do you feel close to him now?”
“When I finally started enjoying life,” James says. “When I started to live the life I know he would have wanted for me, I started to feel close to him again.” James finally looks at me. “When you came into my life, Arya, and I started to be myself again. That’s when I felt close to him again without having to come here all the time.”
"I missed you, James," I say.
"Not as much as I missed you," James says.
“Tell me something about him,” I say. “Your favourite memory.”
James smiles. "In the summer, whenever he was free, he would take me out fishing. Just me. It was our time together. Sometimes we would spend the whole time talking and laughing, sometimes barely a word would pass between us. But no matter what happened, good day or bad, we would always stop by my mom's favourite bakery on the way back and buy these pretzel buns. They were delicious, but the bakery is actually way out of town in the middle of nowhere, so we don't drive out there a lot. My mom would always be so surprised and happy when we came home with them, even though we did it every time we went fishing. Regardless, she was just as appreciative as the first time we brought them back."
East Side Academy Page 28
