by Hannah Jayne
“Ella—” Brynna tried to break in, but Ella wouldn’t let her, going on in a breathless chatter.
“Why’d you do it, Bryn? Jay and I have been trying to figure it out. What did you get out of it? Or were you just feeling awfully lonely as the only drugged-up loser in the loony bin?”
“I wasn’t in—it was a rehab program. The court made me go.” Her head was throbbing, each pulse telling her it was futile to answer, even to defend herself. “I would never do that to Michael. He knows I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“So is that why you’re calling? Because I’m next on your little hit list? Off Erica, get rid of Michael, and now me? A little pissed because when you went off the deep end, Michael came to me for comfort?”
Brynna swallowed hard. The thought of Ella and Michael together really didn’t bother her. But the thought of an anonymous call, Michael being sent away, and everyone from her past thinking that she “offed” her best friend did.
“Don’t ever call here again, Brynna.”
Stunned, Brynna held the phone to her ear until the little electric beeps sounded.
Brynna lay back in her bed, her emotions roiling inside her. Was the same person that was targeting her targeting her old friends back at Lincoln? She couldn’t take a second reviling phone call, but she could do the next best thing. She slid out her laptop and tapped in her password. A cool breeze washed over Brynna as her computer sprang to life with the usual cache of cheerful wallpaper and no new messages.
“At least there’s that,” she whispered to herself.
The night outside was an eerie, moonlit silver the next time Brynna looked up. She stretched, hearing her bones pop and crack as she put her laptop aside and peeled her legs from their pretzeled position. She had trailed Jay, the other kid who was at the campfire that night, on the Internet, holding her breath and silently praying that he wouldn’t have been disfigured in some horrible accident or suddenly have gone missing. Thankfully, he was a senior at another high school now, an all-star forward on the football team, and had been awarded a scholarship to an impressive university. He was fine, and other than her cancerous anger, Ella was unharmed as well. Michael could very well have made his own way into the wilderness program—the anonymous call could have been a lie or someone who knew Michael well. But knowing that her old friends were safe didn’t make Brynna feel any better.
•••
The next two days passed uneventfully for Brynna and she was glad. There were no messages from Erica, no “gifts” appearing in her locker. The calm was nice but unnerving. Brynna prayed that Erica—or whoever was pretending to be Erica—was done with her, but that sounded too good to be true.
When Brynna came down for breakfast the third day, her mother was already awake, already covered in her almost-to-her-knees painting smock, and on the phone. Her auburn hair was pulled into a sloppy topknot, and a half-dozen pencils were angled inward, keeping the mess in place. Brynna could see that her mother’s hands were already covered in paint, which meant she had started working even before Brynna woke up. She was grinning into the phone, and Brynna wasn’t sure if her mother’s happiness came from the fact that her father had left this morning on yet another business trip or something else. She clicked the phone off when Brynna walked in.
“Guess who has great news?” her mother said with a flourish.
Brynna poured herself a bowl of cereal. “Who?”
“You!”
She cocked a slightly interested eyebrow and flooded her Cheerios with milk. “How do I have great news? I’ve been asleep.”
Her mother dropped a napkin on Brynna’s lap. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You have great news because”—she pressed her lips together in an approximation of serious expression—“I talked to your guidance counselor and your P.E. teacher about your swim test requirement.”
Brynna set down her spoon. “And? Are they going to let me skip it?”
“No. They can only waive it if you join the swim team at Hawthorne.”
“That’s my great news?”
“No. I told them about your phobia.”
She gritted her teeth, hating that word.
“And they agreed to give you extra practice time in the pool.”
The single bite of cereal seemed to expand in Brynna’s gut, pushing her insides out. She didn’t want more time in the pool. She didn’t want to “practice” not being crazy while a class full of other girls looked on, wondering why Brynna was such a freak.
“Mom, that sucks. That’s the worst thing—”
Her mother held up a hand. “The P.E. teacher agreed that you could practice after school in the indoor pool. There won’t be any other students there with you. Dr. Rother said that you just need to get comfortable in your own time. This way, you’ll have the whole school year to practice.”
Brynna blinked, still in disbelief. It seemed like a good idea in theory, but even here, sitting at the breakfast table in her house, Brynna could smell the overwhelming stench of chlorine, could feel the burn of her lungs as water rushed down her throat.
“You have to pass it to graduate, Bryn. I told you I could talk to the guidance counselor and Dr. Rother can write a note…”
“No.” It was out of her mouth before Brynna could stop it. “No. I need to…I want to get over this.” She looked up at her mother who had a look of pity and pride on her face.
“You don’t have to, Bryn.”
Brynna wanted to agree with her mother, wanted to give up the whole idea of getting in the water again, but something deep inside—maybe it was her stubbornness, maybe it was a small piece of her old self—pulled at her to try. She didn’t want to be pinned down by her fear her entire life.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked.
Brynna took a deep breath and nodded, half grateful that her mother had made the effort.
“Mrs. Markie said you can get in the pool today.” She bit her lower lip. “I know how hard this is going to be for you. I can come down and—”
“No. No. The only thing more humiliating than running away from water is running to my mommy.”
“I do want to make this easier for you, hon. I thought this might help.” She plucked a shopping bag off one of the chairs and handed it to Brynna.
Brynna looked inside and tried to swallow. “You got me a bathing suit?”
“You got rid of all your other ones, and I thought this one was kind of…nice.”
Brynna pulled the suit out. It was a navy blue one-piece with red-and-white polka-dotted piping and red stitching. The neck was cut lower and the legs cut higher than she was used to with her usual utilitarian swim team suits. All of those were Lincoln High purple or club swim team blue, and Erica had the same ones, matching Brynna suit for suit.
Brynna looked at the hopeful smile on her mother’s face and felt a twinge of guilt. She wanted to be better for herself, but she wanted to be better so her mother would stop worrying about her.
“It’s cute, Mom. Thanks.”
Brynna finished her breakfast and gathered her shoulder bag and the new swimsuit. She tried to shove the suit and a towel in with her books, but the result was a huge, awkward bulge. At Lincoln she had a swim bag—between two years of high school swimming and five years of club, she had a half dozen. But again, just the thought of her old bag was too much to handle, so she shoved the towel and the suit back into the bag it came from and carried it with her to school.
All around her, students were bustling with homecoming excitement, and the Hawthorne halls were covered with construction paper leaves in fall colors. Lauren and Darcy descended upon Brynna the moment she stepped on campus.
“So, so, tell us, B, we’re dying to know. What’s your homecoming dress like?” Lauren asked.
“How do you know I’m going to homecoming? I don’t think I even said anything.”
Lauren rolled her eyes and Darcy looked away. “Duh, the whole school heard about Teddy’s mid-class invitation. Cutest. Thing. Ever. Right, Darce?”
Darcy shrugged, and Brynna got the distinct impression that Darcy wasn’t happy.
“Who are you going with, Darcy?” Brynna said, trying to make the girl the center of attention.
Darcy sighed and looked incredibly put out. “Oh, I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.” Her eyes cut to Teddy, and Brynna watched Teddy look at his shoes. A little flick of jealousy went up in the back of her head but she pushed it away. Teddy and Brynna hadn’t made any official proclamation, but it was pretty well known that wherever Brynna was, Teddy wasn’t far. They were as close to being boyfriend and girlfriend as they could get—and they would have been together, Brynna suspected, if she could put all this guilt behind her, if she could just turn the page and be one hundred percent normal again.
Despite Darcy’s reaction, Brynna really was excited to be going with Teddy. The signs for the homecoming dance were everywhere, and though they weren’t officially dating, it was becoming common knowledge that Teddy and Brynna were together.
“Bryn, your dress?” Lauren said, snapping her fingers anxiously.
“I actually haven’t even thought about it yet.”
Lauren gaped, her crayon-red hair shaking. “That’s unnatural.”
“Don’t worry.” Evan showed up out of nowhere and slung one arm around Brynna’s shoulders and the other around Teddy’s. “It’s not like we’re going to let Hawthorne High’s premier couple show up in trash bags. We’ll get the whole thing sorted. Shopping trip this weekend.” He grinned.
“We’re the premier couple?” Brynna asked skeptically.
“In!” Lauren said.
“I guess,” Darcy nodded.
“Dress shopping?” Teddy held up his hands. “I’m out. I know you’re all fashion-forward and everything, E, but I plan on wearing whatever the rental place hands me.”
Evan swung his head toward Brynna and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure to get him in something black and from this century.”
“I don’t know,” Brynna said with a sly smile. “I think Teddy could totally rock one of those powder blue, frilly collar tuxes.”
“I’m going to pretend you never said that so we can continue being friends.” Evan narrowed his eyes and did the universal “I’m watching you” sign before he, Lauren, and Darcy melded into the swarm in the hall.
“So,” Teddy said, his fingers lacing with Brynna’s, “hang out after school?” His smile was hot chocolate warm, and it shot a zing throughout her as she slid the combination on her locker. Her good mood was immediately cut short when she saw the swimsuit bag sitting there.
“I forgot,” she said, shoving the bag back into her locker depths. “I have to make up a test after school.”
He shrugged. “No big. I’ll wait.”
“No.” She rested her hand on his bicep. “No, that’s okay. I’ll probably take forever. Maybe later, okay?”
A trace of annoyance flittered across Teddy’s face, just long enough for it to register with Brynna. “Whatever,” he said nonchalantly, pulling his hand from hers. “See you later then.” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and turned on his heel, her hand immediately missing the warmth of his as he walked away.
Brynna had forgotten the exchange with Teddy in the hallway—and so had Teddy, it seemed—by the time the lunch bell rang.
The lunchroom was a maelstrom of voices, blaring cell phones, and silverware clattering. The constant noise and the warm, familiar scent of a high school cafeteria were oddly comforting to Brynna—as if in the flurry, she could shake off her guilt, as though it wouldn’t be able to find her among the moving bodies.
Teddy was pressed up next to her, and with every breath, she could smell his fresh, soapy scent. Evan was on her other side, fork full of tater tot raised as he argued with Lauren about a movie.
Darcy sauntered up and set down her bag then flopped down next to it with a groan.
“Well, hello to you too,” Evan said.
Darcy yawned. “Don’t start with me. I bombed my geometry test, which means adios to my car for a week.”
“And Daddy won’t let you take the jet?”
“Anyway, Teddy,” Darcy returned, cutting through Evan with her gaze. “Room for one more in the car today? I don’t have a ride home.” She pouted, and Brynna could feel the heat rise in her cheeks.
“Actually Darce, I’m on two wheels today. But I suppose if you want to ride on my handlebars.”
Brynna straightened up. “My mom’s picking me up. I’m sure we can give you a ride home. I’ve…got a few things to do after school lets out, but it beats sitting on someone’s handlebars.” She forced a smile, willing to suffer whatever consequences—even letting Darcy know she was “practicing” in the pool—to keep Darcy away from Teddy.
Darcy’s eyes cut to Brynna’s, a glint of hardness in them. “Really, Brynna? You’re sure your mama won’t mind?”
“Lay off, Darcy,” Evan said, leveling her with a stare. “Not everyone’s father’s a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer.”
“Nominee,” Teddy coughed into his hand.
Brynna could see the fire redden Darcy’s cheeks, going all the way up to her scalp, making her pale blond hair look like wispy flames. She snatched up her bag and turned on her heel, stomping out of the cafeteria in a puff of couture perfume and haughtiness.
“You guys are a couple of asses, you know that?” Lauren said, giving the boys a halfhearted glare. She gathered her things too, threw out her trash, and went out after Darcy, but with far less angst and storm.
“Well that was fun. What’s next?” Evan asked, grinning.
Teddy planted a chaste kiss on Brynna’s cheek and grabbed his tray. “I’ve got an English test to make up, so I’ll see you two later.” He wound through the room, going the opposite way the girls went.
Evan gave Brynna a soft elbow to the ribs as she stared into the remnants of her lunch. “Don’t worry about Darcy. She can be a real bitch. It’s no big deal not to have a car.”
“A car would be useless for me,” she mumbled.
“Wait. Do you not even have your license?”
Brynna spun back to that night, almost a year after Erica’s death.
Her father was gone—as usual—off to close a deal or open up some airport bottles, and Brynna was stuck at the Gallery on Main, a pompous shop full of blond wood and thick glass where her mother’s paintings hung under gooseneck lamps. There was soft music playing, something just slightly jazzier than you’d hear in an elevator, and people milled about in dark suits and cocktail dresses, eating petit fours, drinking wine, and talking in muffled voices about the paintings. Brynna was in her own formal wear, a black shift that her mother set out for her that used to hug her curves but now hung shapelessly, her arms and legs sticking out like thin, pasty twigs. She had given up trying to be pretty a long time ago, and so her dirty blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her lips were only red because of the wine she kept swilling. Her mother was busy being The Artist, so she didn’t notice when Brynna swiped the first glass, and from her perch halfway behind the registration desk, no one watched her swipe the second and third. When the bottle was gone, Brynna’s stomach was grumbling, so she took the keys from her mother’s purse, went to the parking lot, and slid behind the wheel. She was six hours into Driver’s Training, so she knew what to do, guiding the big car out of the lot and into the street. It was dark but lights were flashing everywhere—headlights, traffic lights, streetlights—and they all blended together in one bright, blinding mess. She meant to park the car right along the sidewalk—she could walk the rest of the way to Burger Town, but the car lurched and someone screamed, and then even when she hit the gas, it wouldn’t move. She could hear the
engine run, she remembered hearing it rev until blood dripped into her eyes, turning everything outside the windshield a thick, deep red. She remembered the sound the scissors made as the paramedic sliced through her seat belt—weird and sawing—and she thought it would be faster. She was being jostled and moved, and her head hurt and the red wine had made her lips dry. She just wanted something to eat. She wanted the flashes of light to stop.
“She’s going to be okay, Ms. Chase. She’s going to be just fine.”
The masculine voice floated down to Brynna, and she opened an eye. Her blood-tinged gaze found her mother standing at the side of the car, one arm across her chest, one hand pressed against her open mouth. There were tears in her eyes.
Then Brynna heard the clink of the handcuffs, the metal tightening around her wrists.
“No, I don’t have my license.”
“Why not? Were you prairie people where you were from? No, wait. You lived by the beach. Boat people?”
He grinned, and Brynna sucked in a breath. “Because I got arrested for drunk driving when I was fifteen.”
She waited for Evan to gape, but he didn’t. He just threaded his arms in front of his chest and nodded appraisingly. “Well, aren’t we the bad girl?”
“It was stupid and I can’t believe I did it, and now I can’t get my license until I’m twenty-one.” She felt the sting of humiliation on her cheeks. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone?”
Evan leaned into her. “Your criminal past is safe with me, Queen B. Any more secrets you want to lay on me while I’ve still got half a Coke?” He shook his half-empty can.
“Not that I can think of. But maybe you can tell me why Darcy seems to hate me on cue?”
“Teddy. They kind of used to date.”
Brynna blinked. “What? He never told me that.”
“Well, honestly, he wasn’t so much dating her as she was dating him.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
Evan nodded. “It made sense to Darcy. She was constantly glued to him, and so they were sort of dating by proxy. Or by proximity.”
