Cornerstone

by Misty Provencher

  Cora puts her hand on my cast and pats it.

  “It’s okay,” she says softly. “You can trust me. I’m not going to tell anybody what happened.”

  “Seriously, Cora! No one tried to rape me! And it definitely wasn’t Kris Lukevitch in the woods.”

  “Then who was it?” She moves in like I’m going to whisper the answer to her. “What exactly happened?”

  “I got hit with a shovel. That’s it. I never even saw the guy that did it. He had a ski mask on. But it wasn’t Kris Lukevitch. It was probably some homeless guy.”

  “Why would a homeless guy put on a ski mask to hit you with a shovel?”

  “I don’t know!” I throw my arms in the air, wanting to backhand the hungry expression off Cora’s face. She steps away from me, but her brow deepens with the pitiful compassion of a drug counselor, trying to convince a user of their denial. I can tell by the way things are going that Cora is going to do everything that she can to make sure I stay a rape victim until I graduate. Ugh.

  “Well, what are you doing for lunch? Are you going out with Garrett or are you guys staying here?” she asks.

  “I’m staying here.” I say. “I don’t know what Garrett’s doing.”

  My entire body sinks as I say it. Garrett has been walking me to my subjects, but he wasn’t waiting at the door of this last class. Now I’m on my way to lunch, alone and without anything to eat, because I wasn’t about to ask Mrs. Reese for a sandwich and I wasn’t going to ask my mom if she had any money in front of all the Reeses. I was thinking that I could make it on the glow that filled my stomach all morning but when Garrett wasn’t outside the door at the last bell, the glow had dimmed and now my stomach is feeling really hollow.

  Cora pushes her glob of tissue into the cuff over her wrist and I wonder why she never just throws them out. She sniffs and begins carefully, “Do you think...that maybe he’s following you around because you...you know...you did it with him?”

  This sounds even dirtier coming out of Cora, with her snotty tissues stuffed up her sleeves.

  “What?” I squint at her. “What are you talking about? Why would you even say that?”

  “Well, that’s the other thing I heard.” she says. “Nikki said that Regina told her that Jen saw you and Garrett...you know, doing it...in the woods. Was it before the homeless guy hit you with the shovel?”

  Whatever expression is on my face is enough to shut her up. She rubs her hands together, fingering the bulge in her sleeve.

  “That’s just what I heard.” she adds quietly.

  “And none of it is even true!” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop any tears from burning into my eyes. I think of how Cora could say the right things that could actually help stop the rumors, and how she won’t. Following rumors with the truth is like having a banana split for dinner and broccoli for dessert.

  I turn and go back into the stall and slam the door shut. Instead of apologizing or trying to straighten anything out, the rubber soles of Cora’s white Ked’s squeak on the bathroom tiles and I plug my ears so I don’t have to listen to her leave.

  Chapter 9

  I come out of the stall five minutes later and sit on the edge of the last bathroom sink, looking down onto the front lawn of the school. I watch Garrett leave in a hurry two minutes later and all the hope and happiness I’ve had this morning sinks into my shoes. There’s no clock in here, so I start counting to sixty over and over again, trying to keep track of how many times I do it, so I can gauge when the bell will ring, sending us all back to classes. I count to sixty only eight times since I spotted Garrett and it’s hard to stay focused because I keep scanning the lawn for his return.

  I’m on my tenth count when someone bangs on the bathroom door. It sounds like someone hammering the door with a fist as they pass, the way the jocks do to show how tough they are. I ignore it because it’s not like this is my house and I’m not obligated to answer the door or anything. I’m too miserable and hungry to worry about it anyway, counting and watching for Garrett.

  But the second time someone bangs, I figure it can’t be coincidence and it’s probably Mrs. Rousch, the school janitor, so I shout, “It’s open!”

  The door squeaks and I twist on the sink ledge to see who’s there. Jen is standing in the opening with Regina right behind her. This isn’t good. I slide off the edge of the basin, landing on my feet.

  “Hey,” Jen says, walking in. She’s wearing a pleated, white skirt just like her cheerleading uniform, a white eyelet blouse, and high, white, gladiator heels. She’s blinding against the dingy beige of the bathroom tiles.

  Regina, however, is nearly camouflaged, if it wasn’t for her blotchy, red face. She sneers as she addresses me, “Waste.”

  Jen laughs and Regina joins her, but I keep quiet, watching the door. They align themselves in front of me, blocking my exit. I feel the whir start in my chest. I am calmed by it, as if I have an ally in the bathroom now too.

  “I thought you might want to apologize to me.” Jen says. Regina’s smile, over Jen’s shoulder, is sickening.

  “I told you, didn’t I?” Regina asks, stepping so close to Jen that there isn’t even air between them. “I told you Jen was gonna get you.”

  “For what?” I say.

  “Really, Waste?” Jen tips her head to one side, like she’s got to dumb down whatever she’s going to say so I can grasp it. “You’re going to stand there acting like you don’t know? You think that trying to steal Garrett isn’t going to make you any less of a total loser? No matter what you do, everybody in this school already knows that I’m the one dating Garrett Reese. And it’s going to stay that way.”

  I should shut up, I know I should, but I can’t.

  “Does he know?” I ask, tipping my head the same way Jen does. “Because he’s never mentioned you. Not once.”

  You would think, wearing so much white, that the head cheerleader might try to talk or even yell her way out of something like this, but instead, Jen throws down her purse with a growl and lunges at me. The chaotic spinning inside of me is immediate. The gears align and spring open. The protective bubble surrounds me before Jen can even get her fingers on me. Without consciously calculating it, my feet shuffle to the side and Jen shoots straight past me, stumbling in her gladiator heels and tumbling down onto her knees. The hem of her skirt rips. Jen shrieks at the sound and jumps back on her feet, her hem swaying over her kneecap like a slack jaw.

  “You’re going to die!” Jen screams, and we’re both surprised when my body jerks forward, instinctively avoiding Regina as she hurls herself at me from behind. Regina misses me completely and her angry growl just sails alongside me. She fumbles and runs head-on into Jen. They knock each other off balance and land in a dirty heap on the even dirtier bathroom floor.

  I should keep my mouth shut, I should.

  But instead, I say, “Ewww.”

  Both of them push themselves back onto their feet. The bathroom door is maybe five steps behind me, but I know better than to turn my back on them to run. I won’t make it. Instead, I stand there with my hands hanging loosely at my sides and thinking—as I pop out of myself and stand, looking at my own body—that I should probably stand more defensively so I look like I know what I’m doing. It turns out that it doesn’t matter though, as Regina charges me like an angry Viking.

  I can’t tell if she’s moving slowly or if my mind is just moving faster. There is no slow-mo vapor trail behind her; it’s just, somehow, incredibly easy for me to see where she’s aiming and to get out of her way. I want to reach out and tap her shoulder as she passes, just to tweak her, but I can’t move my arm. All I can do is get out of the way. But that, I do really well. Regina runs past me and goes head-long into the wall-mounted tampon dispenser.

  “That bloody well hurt.” I quip in an English accent.

  Jen shrieks and runs at me, her arms Frankenstein’ed in front of her. I watch her coming, thinking of how mortified she would be if she could see her own face. Ag
ain, my body adjusts on autopilot, moving a hair to the right and Jen crashes to the floor again, but this time, the heel of her shoe cracks off and skitters over the tile like an icicle.

  “You bitch.” Regina turns away from the dispenser to face me, cupping her left cheek in her hand. I can already see the bruise curdling under her skin. Jen is hobbling to her feet, the foot in her broken gladiator twisting, as she struggles to stand without the spike of the heel. At first her face is contorted murderously and then, the smile that blooms in its place looks even more horrifying.

  “She beat us up.” Jen tells Regina, her tone full of shock and innocence, as if she just realized it herself. “The Waste just beat us up.”

  “Nobody beats us...” Regina begins but Jen cuts her off with a wave of her hand.

  “No, listen.” Jen’s smile curls like toxic fumes. “Look at us. And look at her. There’s not a scratch on her. We came in here separately and The Waste jumped us, right? She jumped us in a school that has a well-known, no-tolerance policy on fighting. Think about it.”

  A bruised smile spreads across Regina’s face and she starts nodding, still cupping her cheek. Bile rises up and plugs my throat.

  “That’s right.” Regina giggles. “No Tolerance. You’re getting suspended, Waste.”

  “Oh no, it’s worse.” Jen laughs. “Way worse. You’re seventeen, aren’t you, Waste?”

  I don’t answer. I’m trying to keep myself from throwing up on the floor in front of them.

  “Oh yeah,” Regina laughs crazily beneath her hand. “Cops. You’re gonna go to jail.”

  Jen bends over and scoops her purse off the floor.

  “That’s right, Waste,” she says. “I’m pressing charges. C’mon Reggie.”

  And Jen is suddenly steady, as she adjusts to walking on her toes, out the bathroom door.

  ~ * * * ~

  My mouth fills with burning saliva after Jen and Regina leave, and I rush to pull open one of the stall doors, but it doesn’t budge. Desperate, I lift my foot and kick the handicap stall door as hard as I can. It flies open. Inside, hunched down on top of the horseshoe toilet seat, is Cora. I only get a glimpse of her wide eyes as she stands up, balancing on the seat. Before she can even hop down, I throw myself between her ankles, heaving into the porcelain bowl beneath her feet.

  There is no place for her to go unless she vaults over me and Cora is no vaulter, so she stands there talking while I hold onto her ankles and puke between her sneakers. Her voice falls down around me.

  “Jeez, my legs were cramping up. I wasn’t really eavesdropping. I just stuck around because I thought you were having some secret rendezvous with Garrett.” she laughs. “But, wow. I can’t believe how awful Jen is! I mean, she was almost Home Coming Queen!”

  Cora lifts one Ked onto the flushing lever and steps down on it, whooshing away what little actually came out of my stomach. The spray of the water on my face makes me retch again.

  “Good thing I stuck around, though.” Cora sniffs twice overhead. “At least now you’ve got two witnesses. Me and whatever I got on my phone. I think I got all of it, though.”

  I lift my head away from the toilet as Cora steps on the flushing lever again. This time, I push myself farther away and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. Cora holds open her phone and pushes buttons as she hops down off the toilet seat.

  “You recorded it?” My voice is hoarse.

  “Yup.” Cora says. She stands in the door of the stall and holds her phone down in front of me. “See?”

  On the itty bitty screen, there is a birds-eye view of the entire fight. Jen and Regina lunge at me, and on screen, I look like I’m just really skilled at stepping out of the way. Cora must’ve had her phone perched over the top of the stall the whole time. She jacks up the volume so it sounds like we’re all talking in a soup can, but everything Jen said about getting me in trouble is there.

  I should jump up and hug Cora, but the relief of it all squeezes my stomach again and I throw myself forward over the toilet bowl as the bell rings.

  “I’m going to get the school nurse first.” Cora says behind me. “And then we can go show Principal VanWeider what really happened.”

  ~ * * * ~

  I don’t want the school nurse, but Cora’s gone before I can object. I try to get to my feet and my head instantly spins, so I just sit back down on the floor and rest my shoulder blades against the cool metal wall beside the toilet. When the bathroom door opens again, I hear the rush of the crowded hallway outside, even though the stall door blocks my view.

  “She’s in here.” I hear Cora saying. And then I want to throw up again when I hear the wrong voice answer her.

  “Where?” Garrett asks. I see his shoes before he pulls the door open and looks down at me, sitting on the bathroom floor. The worry, pulling at his brow, dissolves as he kneels down beside me. The calming blue of his eyes settles my stomach.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he says. “Cora said Jen came after you. Are you okay?”

  I only nod because the hot, awful taste is still on my tongue and clinging in my cheek. His eyes begin a thorough inspection of me anyway, studying my face as if he wants to be sure to catch even the slightest scratch. His gaze moves over me, as meticulous as a physician, but his hands are caught in the air around me as if he is afraid that his touch might hurt my skin. I feel the heat of his hands hovering inches over my body, moving around me with waves of energy that knit the air between us and tingle into my muscles. I close my eyes and let my body feel him despite the lack of actual contact. The heat rolls beneath his palms, leaving me feeling sedated and fuzzy.

  “She was throwing up.” I hear Cora say. I’d like her to go away.

  “That true?” Garrett asks softly and he cups my cheek in his hand. My lips go numb, paralyzed with his touch. He grumbles, more to himself than to me, “I never should’ve left. What the hell is the matter with Jen anyway?”

  I don’t speak. When Garrett finishes his assessment, he relaxes back on his heels and smirks at me. “And what’s this I hear about some ninja moves?”

  I don’t even have to open my mouth. Cora pushes her phone screen into his face.

  “Oh my God,” she gushes. “It’s like Nali’s some Judo master. Isn’t it Judo where you avoid getting hit? She just kept stepping out of the way and Jen and Regina kept slamming into stuff. Nali didn’t even touch them.”

  Garrett’s brow pulls together again as he reaches for the phone.

  “Oh really?” he says and he watches the whole thing on the little screen as if he’s memorizing it for a test. The recording seems to go on forever, even though it is really only a couple of minutes, and Cora streams a one-sided conversation the entire time. I ignore Cora and just keep my eyes on Garrett’s face. As he watches, his eyes narrow and his brow arcs. When the recording is done, he hands the phone back to Cora.

  “Can you stand up?” Garrett asks me. “I’m sure VanWeider is looking for you.”

  I try to get up on my own because the last thing I want to do is lean so close to Garrett with the bitter taste still in my mouth. I wobble the second I’m on my feet and Garrett immediately ducks under my arm, wrapping his arm around my waist. His touch sends a heartbeat through my body like a defibrillator but the smell of his cologne makes me even more unsteady.

  “I’ve got you.” he says, but my limbs tremble against my will. Cora points at my quivering arms excitedly.

  “That’s dehydration!” She sounds like she’s on a game show. “They talked about it in my first aid class! Throwing up dehydrates you and it can make you shake like that.”

  As if my legs agree with her, they buckle under me. Garrett adjusts and still holds me up effortlessly as he pulls a bill from his pocket and hands it to Cora. “Could you go down to the cafeteria and get her some water and something to eat? We’ll meet you down at the office.”

  “I’m on it!” Cora salutes him and speeds out of the bathroom as if getting me water is the most
important thing she’s ever done. Garrett waits for the door to swing shut again.

  “Ok, I’m right here. Just lean on me and I’ll get you there, okay?” he says. I just nod, unwilling to open my mouth. We walk and my whole body tremors out of my control while I lean on Garrett. He tells me over and over again in his honey-warm voice that I’m going to be okay. My feet feel like they are just brushing over the floor but Garrett doesn’t complain. He hardly even seems to notice by the time we head down the now-empty hallway to the stairs leading to the main floor. I wobble at the top step and gasp, but Garrett’s hands are there, holding me steady.

  “I’m not letting go of you.” he assures me and I nod that I believe him. “We’ll just take it slow. One step at a time, all right?”

  I nod. Three steps down, Garrett’s voice is warm in my ear again. “That was some impressive stuff you did with Jen.”

  I think he feels my shrug against his chest when we pause on the next step but I’m not sure because the way my shoulders are shaking might feel like a thousand little shrugs. His arms stay steady around me.

  “I mean it. It looked like you’re some cage fighter or something.” he chuckles. I just shake my head.

  “You’re not going to talk to me because of throwing up, right?” he asks and I nod, blushing. Garrett just laughs.

  “You don’t have to worry about it.” he says, but I just shake my head again.

  “Have it your way, then.” His tone is apologetic. “You’ll just have to listen to me all the way down to the office.”

  I shrug again and weakly chuckle behind closed lips. The shaking makes it sound like a giggle shaken up in can, but all I want to do is listen to him and even more, I want to do it while he’s holding me in the unwavering support of his arms.

  My body is still quivering when we reach the office and I am starting to wonder if it has anything to do with food or water after all.