Shannon stared at him until he reached her, then glared at Izzy. Izzy put the journal back, shut her locker, and started toward them, her textbook against her chest like a bulletproof shield. Shannon watched Izzy walk toward them, frowning, until Ethan took her hand and led her toward psychology class. Izzy followed, hoping she wouldn’t have to sit next to them. Shannon kept glancing backward, whispering in Ethan’s ear and laughing: a loud, deliberate cackle, as if sharing a private joke. When Shannon and Ethan reached the psychology classroom, they stopped in front of the closed door. Shannon wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck and kissed him with an open mouth. Ethan kissed her back, then pulled away.
“Come on,” he said. “We’re already late.”
Shannon glanced back at Izzy, her lip curled in disgust. “Who cares,” she said. “We’ll just blame it on Izzy Pop.”
Ethan opened the door and pulled Shannon into the classroom. Izzy followed, fighting the urge to tell Shannon the real reason Ethan was at her locker. At the front of the room, Mr. Defoe scribbled on the chalkboard, wet crescents staining the armpits of his blue shirt, his faded jeans tucked into his trademark hiking boots. No matter the season, Mr. Defoe wore his hiking boots. Rumor had it he lived in an apartment above the train station and gave most of his money to charity. He peered over his thick glasses at Ethan, Shannon, and Izzy.
“Nice of you to join us,” he said. “Hurry up and take a seat.”
To Izzy’s relief there was a vacant desk at the back of the room. She hurried toward it while Ethan and Shannon took seats up front.
Mr. Defoe finished what he was writing on the board, then sat at his desk and asked the students to pass their essays forward. When all the essays had been collected, he stood to give his lecture.
“Today we’re going to talk about what makes a seemingly normal person suddenly commit a horrendous crime,” he said. “Like murdering their spouse or bringing a gun to school to shoot their classmates.” He started pacing back and forth, his hiking boots scuffing along the floor. “Every now and then, the news explodes with stories about regular, everyday people who, without warning, do hideous things. They commit crimes that shock those around them, even those who know them extremely well. Everyone is at a loss, trying to understand what happened. When most people learn of the crime, their first thought is that the person they know could not possibly be the perpetrator . . .”
Izzy slouched in her seat, trying to shut out Mr. Defoe’s words. She picked up her pen and drew a square on her notebook, outlining the drawing over and over, pressing down harder and harder, until the point of her pen broke through the cover.
“So the question is,” Mr. Defoe said, “are these people acting out of character, or was the tendency to go off the deep end part of their personality all along? What do you think, Miss Stone?”
Izzy looked up. A few of the students had turned in their seats to look at her, eyebrows raised. “Um,” she said. “I’m sorry. What was the question again?” Everyone laughed.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d quit doodling and pay attention, Miss Stone,” Mr. Defoe said.
Shannon raised her hand and Mr. Defoe pointed at her. “Yes, Miss Mackenzie?”
“I have an idea,” Shannon said. “Maybe we can get Izzy’s mother to come in and explain the criminal mind to us.”
Izzy felt blood rise in her cheeks. No one had ever found out about her mother this fast. She glared at Shannon.
“What do you mean?” Nicole said with phony concern, a lip-glossed smirk on her face. “What did Izzy’s mother do?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shannon said, feigning surprise. “I thought everyone knew.” She frowned and looked at Izzy. “Izzy’s mother shot her father while he slept. She’s doing life at Bedford.”
A collective gasp filled the room. A sea of heads turned toward Izzy. Wide, shocked eyes stared back at her. Girls put their hands over their mouths. Guys high-fived each other, laughing. Everyone started talking at once.
“Is she on death row?” one of the guys said.
“Can you bring her in for show and tell?” Luke said, snorting.
“Is her favorite color orange?” Nicole said.
Mr. Defoe stepped forward. “Okay, settle down,” he said, holding up his hands. “Everyone, be quiet!”
No one listened. The girl sitting beside Izzy got up and moved to another seat. Luke stood on his chair and held his hands out as if pointing a gun, his index fingers the barrel of a pistol.
“Bang! Bang!” he said, shooting fake bullets at Izzy. He fired at his friends. Several of them fell out of their seats and onto the floor, moaning and playing dead.
Izzy stood on elastic legs, gathered her books, and started toward the door. Ethan got up and put a hand on her arm, stopping her.
“Wait,” he said to her. Then he shouted, “Everyone, shut up! Why don’t you grow up and quit being such assholes!” Everyone stopped talking and looked at him, wide-eyed.
“What the hell, Ethan,” Luke said. “You got a thing for Izzy Pop?”
“Yeah, Ethan,” a red-haired, freckle-faced boy said. “Does your girlfriend know about your infatuation with the new girl?” His voice was high, like a female’s, in stark contrast with his brutish size. He wasn’t fat, just wide and muscular, like a bull, or a Mac truck. If Izzy remembered correctly, his name was Josh.
Shannon stood and yanked Ethan’s hand off Izzy’s arm. “What are you doing?” she hissed, her face contorted in anger.
While everyone waited to see what Shannon would do next, the room quieted.
“Everyone, sit down!” Mr. Defoe said, taking over. “One more word out of any of you and you’re all getting detention!”
Shannon pulled Ethan away from Izzy and sat down, pouting. Izzy glared at her, eyes burning, then headed toward the exit.
“Please return to your seat, Miss Stone,” Mr. Defoe said. “And don’t let this bunch of bored juvenile delinquents get the better of you.” Izzy stopped in her tracks, facing the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She blinked against the growing flood in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should stay or leave, not knowing how much trouble she’d get in for walking out. Then Mr. Defoe said, “And, Miss Mackenzie? A week of detention for you.”
“What?” Shannon said, whining. “What did I do?”
“What did I do?” a high, mocking voice said from the back of the room. “As usual, I’m just having a little fun at someone else’s expense.” Izzy turned to see who had spoken. It was Alex. She was leaning against the windowsill, scowling and talking in a sarcastic tone. “Everyone knows my mommy is an alcoholic and my daddy left. So I can get away with anything I want because I’m just a poor, confused little girl.”
“Shut your mouth!” Shannon yelled. She jumped out of her seat and started toward Alex. Ethan held her back.
“Miss Mackenzie!” Mr. Defoe shouted. “Are you trying to get yourself suspended?”
“She’s a liar!” Shannon said, struggling to break free from Ethan’s grasp.
Some of the other students looked at each other, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes. Others dropped their eyes, as if embarrassed to see Shannon falling apart.
“Calm down,” Ethan said to Shannon.
“You’re a whore!” Shannon shouted at Alex. “Just like your mother!”
“That’s it,” Mr. Defoe said. “Ethan and Shannon, go to the office. Right now. Get out of here!”
Ethan grabbed Shannon’s wrist and pulled her out of the room, Shannon yelling obscenities the entire way. The students erupted in excited conversation. Izzy stood at the front of the room with her books clamped to her chest, a burning lump in her throat. She couldn’t decide if she should go back to her seat or ask to go to the girls’ room so she could pull herself together. Mr. Defoe tried to regain control of the class. No one paid attention. Izzy wiped her eyes and went back to her seat. Eventually, everyone quieted and Mr. Defoe finished his lecture. Izzy didn’t hear a word.
Afterw
ard, Izzy hurried to her locker, shoved her homework and Clara’s journal into her backpack, then went to the girls’ room. She could hardly wait for this day to end. Tonight, at home, she’d tell Peg she had the journal. Hopefully, Peg would forgive her and not send her to a different foster home. Izzy pushed open the bathroom door and turned the corner toward the row of stalls, then stopped in her tracks. Shannon was leaning against the radiator, her face red, her eyes swollen. Crystal and Nicole stood on either side, holding Kleenex and rubbing Shannon’s shoulders.
“Get the hell out of here!” Shannon shouted. Izzy started to leave, then changed her mind. She turned to face Shannon.
“Listen,” she said, staying near the exit. “I don’t know why you hate me so much, but I understand what you’re going through. It’s hard having messed-up parents.”
Shannon sniffed and sat up. “You listen to me, shooter,” she sneered, tossing a used Kleenex at Izzy. “You don’t know anything about me. And you never will.”
Izzy chewed on the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to scream in Shannon’s face. More than anything, she wanted to tell her to grow up and stop taking her anger out on everyone else. But she was afraid that once she started yelling, she’d never stop. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good. If nothing else, maybe she and Shannon could come to some sort of agreement. At the very least they could be civil to each other until graduation. It was worth a try. Like her grandmother always said, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
“Well,” she said. “Maybe we could talk sometime? It seemed like you wanted to be friends when I first got here. Maybe we can start over?”
“The only thing you’re going to start over is a new job. I don’t want you working with my boyfriend anymore.”
Izzy shrugged and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”
Shannon moved toward her. Crystal and Nicole followed, arms crossed over their chests. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make it happen,” Shannon said.
Before Izzy could respond, the girls grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall.
Izzy struggled, trying to get away, twisting her shoulders back and forth. Shannon moved in behind them, blocking any chance for escape. The girls held Izzy by the arms while Shannon tapped a finger on her lips, thinking.
“Hmm,” she said. “What should I do to teach you a lesson?”
Just then, someone kicked the door of a stall, a loud, metallic bang echoing like thunder in the high-ceilinged room.
A female voice shouted, “Let her go!”
The girls released Izzy and she stumbled forward. Alex stood next to the sinks, red-faced and breathing hard.
“Really?” Alex yelled at Shannon. “Ganging up on the new girl? Don’t you think it’s time to grow up?”
“You’re pushing your luck today,” Shannon said. She shoved Alex backward and Alex lost her footing. Alex scrambled to stay upright, catching the edge of a sink before she fell. Shannon moved toward her and Izzy stepped between them.
“Leave her alone,” she said.
Shannon pushed her face toward Izzy’s. “And what are you going to do about it?” she snarled. “Go get your mommy’s gun and shoot me?”
“No,” Izzy said. “I’ll just steal your boyfriend. He seemed pretty interested when he came to my house the other night.”
Shannon’s eyes went wide and her face turned crimson. She screeched and lunged at Izzy, her manicured claws reaching for Izzy’s neck. Alex pulled Izzy out of the way and they rushed out of the bathroom, running through the halls until they were outside, heading toward the line of buses.
“Thanks,” Izzy said, trying to catch her breath.
“Any time,” Alex said. “I told you to watch out for her.” She turned to look behind her. “Oh shit.”
Izzy looked over her shoulder. Shannon, Crystal, and Nicole were charging across the sidewalk toward them.
“Come on,” Alex said, dragging Izzy toward the parking lot. They threaded their way through three rows of cars, dodging opening doors and hurrying around other students. Finally, they reached Alex’s vehicle. Alex unlocked the doors and they scrambled inside. She shoved the key into the ignition and started the car. “Put on your seat belt.”
“But I have to take the bus home,” Izzy said. “I’m not supposed to ride with anyone Peg and Harry don’t know, remember?”
“Go ahead,” Alex said, gripping the gearshift. She motioned toward the line of buses with her chin. “Let’s see if you can make it to the buses before they do.”
Izzy looked out the windshield. The buses were on the other side of the parking lot, across the sidewalk and a wide strip of grass. Shannon and her friends were squeezing between two cars, three parking spots away. “Promise you’ll come in and introduce yourself sometime?” she asked Alex.
“Yup,” Alex said, putting the car into gear. She pulled out of the parking spot, turned left, and tore out of the lot, tires squealing, the peacock feathers hanging from her rearview mirror swinging back and forth. As they drove away, Izzy turned in her seat and saw Shannon, Crystal, and Nicole standing on the sidewalk, their faces red, their hair flying. Shannon stuck her middle finger in the air.
Alex glanced in the rearview mirror. “Oh, man!” she said. “We’re forever on her shit list now!”
“Why were you on her shit list to begin with?” Izzy said. Alex reached in her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Izzy. “No thanks,” Izzy said.
Alex took a cigarette from the pack with her teeth and rummaged in her bag for her lighter. “We used to be best friends,” she said, talking around the filter. She lit the cigarette, dropped her lighter back in her purse, and took a long drag. She rolled down her window and blew the smoke out of the car. “Until my mother told her mother what her father was doing to her.”
“I thought her mother knew he was hitting her?”
Alex glanced at Izzy, frowning. “How did you know her father used to hit her?”
“Ethan told me.”
“He really came to your house?”
“Yeah.”
Alex whistled. “I thought you were just saying that to piss Shannon off. How did that happen? I mean, what was he doing there?”
“We work together at the museum,” Izzy said. “He wanted to say he was sorry for playing a trick on me. He wants to be friends.”
“Whoa,” Alex said. “You’re most definitely on the top of Shannon’s shit list now!” She laughed and took another drag from her cigarette. “But at least you’ll be taking the heat off me.”
“Why does she hate you so much?”
Alex stopped at a light and looked at Izzy, as if she could judge her trustworthiness by the color of her eyes. “If I tell you,” she said, “you can’t tell anyone. Ever.”
“Okay,” Izzy said.
“It’s not that I’m trying to protect Shannon, or feel any loyalty toward her or anything. She’s been so rotten to me that I don’t owe her anything. I just want to make it through this year with as little drama as possible and blow off this town after graduation. I’m leaving and never looking back.”
“I won’t tell,” Izzy said. “Promise.” The light changed and Alex drove the car through the intersection, taking another drag from her cigarette. Izzy waited, holding her breath.
“I’m not talking about Shannon’s father hitting her,” Alex said, her voice flat. “I’m talking about something worse.”
Izzy cringed. It took a moment to form her mind around her next question. She swallowed before speaking. “What did he do to her?”
Alex crushed her cigarette out in the ashtray and closed the window. “Like I said,” she said, “Shannon and I used to be best friends. She always wanted to stay overnight at my house on weekends, but she never wanted me to stay at hers. I didn’t think anything about it and was actually kind of relieved because her father always gave me the creeps. I felt like he was always watching me. One day, when we were around
twelve, I found her crying in her tree house and knew something was wrong. She told me her father was coming into her bed at night and, you know . . .”
Izzy felt something vile twist in her gut, the angry pressure beneath her jaw releasing, replaced by something hollow and cold. “Oh God,” she said. The fiery anger that had been building up in her head like a hot-air balloon deflated in one swift transfer of raw emotion.
“Shannon made me swear not to tell,” Alex said. “Ever. For a few days I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t go to her house, or talk to her in school, anything. I was shocked and just couldn’t wrap my head around it, you know? Eventually I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret. I had to help Shannon. She was my best friend. So I told my mother and my mother told Shannon’s mother. But Shannon’s mother already knew.”
Izzy recoiled, her stomach turning over. “Shannon’s mother knew and didn’t do anything? And she admitted it?”
“Yes and no. After my mother confronted her, Shannon’s mother finally said something to Shannon’s father. They got in a huge fight and it got physical, like it always did. But this time Shannon tried to stop her father from hurting her mother and ended up in the hospital. When I went to see Shannon, she was furious. She said she stepped between her parents because it was the first time her mother had ever tried to protect her. She said her mother knew all along, so me opening my big mouth just made things worse. She told me she never wanted to see me again. I went home crying and my mother called the police.”
“Was he arrested?”
“Nope. CPS never had the chance to get involved. That night, he left and never came back. Shannon, her mother, my mother, and I are the only ones who knew what he was doing.”
“Holy shit,” Izzy said. “Then he got away with it.”
“Pretty much.”
“But I still don’t get it. Why does Shannon hate you?”
“Because I broke my promise. I told my mother what was going on.”
“You were trying to help.”
Alex glanced at Izzy, her eyes wet. “Would you want anyone to know your father was messing around with you?”
What She Left Behind Page 14
