Bullies like Me

by Lindy Zart

  We argue more than we get along. I can’t remember if we do get along. I hate her for her weakness. I blame her for the divorce, for everything. It’s her fault my dad left. A horn honks and I look up. Jocelyn and Casey are waiting across the street in Jocelyn’s white Prius. Usually, I would smile and skip over. Usually, I would be glad to see my friends. Usually, my stomach wouldn’t twist in knots to the point that I have to stop for a minute, close my eyes, and just breathe.

  “Let’s roll, you crazy bitch,” Jocelyn greets with her feline grin.

  Usually, I would laugh off the insult, and toss one back.

  Today, I don’t say anything.

  Usually, I would make Casey leave the passenger seat and get in the back.

  Today, I silently open the back door and climb inside.

  “Do you want to sit up front?” Casey is already reaching for the door handle.

  “I’m good.” I close my door and wait for the car to move. It doesn’t.

  Jocelyn cranes her neck around to eye me in the backseat. Her glossy black hair is styled in waves; her eyes are highlighted in lime green. A plum-toned top hugs her perfect curves and the scent of her perfume is all I smell. She looks beautiful, and determined. She looks like she won a game where I didn’t know the rules.

  Jeff is already hers, I intuitively know.

  “What’s up with you? Did you get in another fight with your mom?” she questions, looking like she cares.

  Casey turns her hazel eyes to me as well, just as concerned.

  Fake. They’re both fake. Do they even like me? Do I like them? I shake my head and look out the window. I feel the two of them exchanging looks without having to see it. They’re wondering what my problem is, and they’re calling me names in their head. Was I ever as well-liked as I thought I was? Have all these years been spent with me really having no clue? Maybe Lexie is the only one acting like everyone else feels.

  “Are we still on for the party at your dad’s next weekend?” Jocelyn wonders, zipping along the road without any concern for how fast she’s going, or pedestrians.

  “Yeah,” I answer, feeling a little better as I think about the party. My dad and his wife will be out of town for the weekend, and he okayed having a few friends over for a sleepover at his cabin near Murphy’s Lake. I invited a handful of people, but that’s all that is needed to ensure a full house. You invite one person, and they invite another, and that person invites someone else, and on and on it goes. As long as everything goes smoothly, he’ll never know.

  “I’ll bring the popcorn,” Casey supplies in a light tone.

  Jocelyn snorts. “I don’t think popcorn is going to be on anyone’s mind.”

  Casey looks to the side, her profile showing her pinched expression. “I like popcorn.”

  “I like beer,” is Jocelyn’s comeback.

  Shifting in her seat, Casey lowers her head. “You know I don’t like to drink.”

  “I do, yes. More for me and Melanie. Right, Mel?”

  We’re almost to the school, and my throat tightens as it comes into view.

  “Right,” I answer hollowly, my eyes dropping to the apple in my hand.

  “How did your date go with Jeff?” My dark-haired friend’s voice is innocent enough, and yet, too interested.

  I tense, and then force myself to relax. “Are you saying you don’t already know?”

  Her eyes fly to mine in the rearview mirror. Smugness swirls in the dark depths. The car jerks to a stop as she parks along the curb, and Jocelyn releases my gaze as she takes the keys from the ignition. She doesn’t reply until we’re on the sidewalk. “I’m asking, aren’t I?”

  “It went really good,” I lie. “So good that he asked me out again.”

  Half of Jocelyn’s mouth lifts. “Oh?”

  Cool wind streams through my clothes, chilling my body.

  “Are you sure?”

  My skin prickles as our gazes clash. She knows exactly how the date went, and that means she was either with Jeff over the weekend, or at least talked to him. Jocelyn never looked at Jeff until I did. It seems to be a recurring occurrence with us and boyfriends.

  I’m surprised by how even my voice is when I say, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly how the date went.”

  “Guys, we should really get going before we’re late.” Casey looks from us to the school.

  With a smile, Jocelyn breaks eye contact. “You’re being paranoid,” she tells me, putting an arm around me. She’s like an inferno, scalding me where we touch.

  “Guys.”

  Jocelyn’s gaze flickers to Casey. “So go.”

  With a sigh, Casey shrugs and leaves us.

  Her one-armed hug becomes uncomfortably hard. “I’m your friend, Mel. If you tell me to not go after Jeff, I won’t.”

  Liar.

  “Actually,” I begin, pulling away from her. I breathe easier with space between us. “I decided I don’t like Jeff all that much. He’s too muscled for me. You’re welcome to him.”

  I am a liar too.

  Jocelyn’s smile grows, becomes ferocious as she steals my apple and takes a bite. The crunch of it sounds like bones cracking. I imagine her teeth tearing through my jugular. “Great. I’ll see if he wants to come with me to your party.”

  She will too.

  My friend hands back the apple, her teeth marks and lipstick on the green and red fruit. I look at it in bemusement, thinking it is symbolic of our friendship. Jocelyn takes from me, and then she gives back whatever she took, but it is no longer in one piece. It is no longer mine. I don’t want her leftovers. I didn’t know I was her competition before, but I do now. I chuck the apple at the nearest wastebasket.

  A boy who doesn’t matter enough to know his name glances at me, and I sneer. “Did I say you had permission to breathe my air?”

  Like a startled deer, he zips past Jocelyn, and I watch her saunter toward the school, most of the guys around watching her as well. Even Mr. Loomis, the Phy. Ed. teacher, ogles Jocelyn, and I know she likes it. She feeds on it. Jocelyn wants everyone to want her. Disgust slides down my throat like dirty water. Things were better when I didn’t notice her as much as I have been lately. Why didn’t I? Because things were good in my life, and I didn’t pay attention to anything around me until they started to go bad.

  With apprehension coating my frame, I pause outside the building, standing still as the last of the students make their way through the doors. Lexie’s in there. Jeff’s in there. Jocelyn’s in there. They’re all in there, and I finally realize, whether I am or not, doesn’t matter to any of them.

  School is almost done for the year, and then I’ll have the summer to get myself put back together, and my party can be the start of my comeback. I’ll start my senior year better and more spectacular than this school has ever seen me.

  I am Melanie Mathews.

  I am pretty, rich, and popular.

  Boys want me; girls want to be me.

  I own this school.

  I’m not scared of anyone.

  Shoulders back, I make my way to the double doors, recoiling when someone shoots past me in an attempt to make it inside before the bells ring. I set a hand to my pounding heart and walk into Enid High School, smiling like I am oblivious to anyone but myself. I wish I could go back to being that way.

  I HEAR THE GIGGLES AND whispered words before I know what’s going on. I got through Monday without any incidents, but something told me today wouldn’t be as easy. I don’t know what it is, but a black cloud hovers over me. Everything is wrong.

  There’s a cluster of five girls near the cafeteria, and the scent of whatever they’re passing off as food for our lunch today, makes my stomach turn. They’re freshmen and sophomores; kids I don’t generally associate with, or even notice. The circle of bodies divides as a couple of the girls become aware of my presence. Whatever they’re laughing and talking about, I know it involves me.

  They go silent, cautiously watching me approach.

&nbs
p; “Melanie, I had no idea, but I have to say, I like it. If it doesn’t work out with Jocelyn, I’m always available. If you still go that way.” Clint Burns eyes me as he saunters through the doorway to the lunchroom, a leer on his unpleasant face. When he wiggles his eyebrows, I want to throw something at him.

  “What are you talking about?” I demand, but he’s gone. I turn to the girls, narrowing my eyes. “What’s going on?”

  One of them moves a hand behind her back, and I dart for her as she squeaks, tearing the photograph from her hand. It’s clearly been altered with Photoshop, but still, it’s shocking to see Jocelyn and my faces on the barely dressed bodies of two women in bed together. My neck tightens as blood boils beneath the surface of my skin.

  I speak slowly, with only a faint tremble noticeable in my voice. “Who gave you this?”

  “They’re all around school,” one of the braver, or stupider, girls tells me.

  “All…around…school.” I arch an eyebrow and meet each set of eyes.

  Nods proceed, and the underclassmen look like a bunch of bobble heads.

  I tear up the printed off photograph, the sound of the destroyed paper not even near as satisfying as finding the culprit of this will be. I crumple the pieces into balls and clench them between my hands. “You see one of these, you throw it away.”

  Another round of nods.

  I jerk my head to the side. “Get out of here, and find them.”

  “But, it’s lu—”

  I close my eyes. “I don’t care. Find them!”

  The girls scatter.

  My legs carry me into the cafeteria, all the sounds muted in my rage. The kids turn into blurs, and even the few who call out to me are immaterial. I zero in on Lexie. She sits alone, reading a book. She sits alone, and yet, she doesn’t look uncomfortable. She looks like she wants to be alone. Even that feeds the fury inside me. No one wants to be alone. She has no right to look happy about being a loner, and a loser.

  I stomp toward her, seeing her outlined in red, like the haze of my anger has seeped into my eyeballs. “You,” I seethe, my voice unfamiliar to my ears.

  Lexie sets down the book, takes a sip from her can of pop, and looks at me. Her blue eyes are startling bright, and her brown hair is styled in soft waves around her face. I give her midnight blue dress an absent look, vaguely surprised to see her dressed so nicely. “Yes, this is me. Are you going anywhere with this?”

  “Find someone else to make as miserable as you apparently are.”

  “But I already did,” she says innocently. A smile wants to take over her lips, and I want to smash my fisted hand into her mouth.

  “You can’t do this to me!” I lean toward her, my body coiled and ready to pounce.

  A small frown captures her mouth. “Do what?”

  The breaths that leave me are ragged, and too fast, and I place a hand to my pounding chest. Am I having a heart attack, for real, this time? “You won’t win at these sick games.”

  “All I’m doing is reading a book,” she says with a sigh. “What exactly do you think I’ve done this time?”

  “The picture…” I break off as I look around the room. It’s too quiet. Everyone is watching us.

  The principal makes his way toward Lexie and me, looking like a pig stuck in a penguin’s body as he waddles over.

  “The picture?” Lexie prompts, a touch of wariness in her tone.

  There’s a chance some people haven’t seen it yet. I don’t want to bring more attention to it, or us, in case I’m right. I back away, my gaze flitting from person to person, wondering who’s seen it. Wondering who’s laughing about it. My skin crawls. I swear they all know, and they’re all laughing at me.

  They hate you.

  I flinch from the thought.

  “What picture?” she asks again.

  I backtrack from her, bumping into a chair leg. The occupant of it hastily propels the chair from me, the legs screeching along the floor as it moves. Other than someone coughing, it’s the only sound in the spacious room.

  “Stay away from me,” I tell Lexie.

  One shoulder lifts and lowers, and Lexie goes back to her book.

  As I hurry from the room before Principal Stenner can catch me, I feel like I’m in the middle of some onstage play where I’ve lost my mind, or everyone else has, and they’re all trying to make me think I’m the one who has. This whole school is warped. Or I am. I don’t know anymore. I just know that it feels like my heart is going to jump out of my chest, and I’m afraid.

  Jeff and Jocelyn enter the cafeteria together, and all the sounds and smells hit me with overpowering clarity as I watch them together. Perfectly paired, their good looks complement one another. Jeff at least looks guilty when our gazes collide. Jocelyn’s eyes light up, and she grabs me before I can move away, smacking me loudly and firmly on the lips with hers. I wrench from her grasp as gasps and catcalls ring out.

  “Take off your clothes!” a male voice that sounds a lot like Clint’s calls from some dark corner he belongs in.

  “Are you crazy?” I screech, savagely rubbing at my mouth with my hand. I can taste her cherry lip balm on my lips, and it makes me gag.

  She laughs. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude. Everyone’s talking about. We might as well play along.” Jocelyn leans close, her thick hair sweeping across my cheek. “Jeff liked it.”

  I jerk back, looking at Jeff before I can help it. He stares back, interest dilating his eyes. “Pig,” I mutter, shoving past my friend.

  I stalk up and down the halls, ripping up and tossing each digitally enhanced photograph I can find. Skin on fire, pulse careening, I work at removing the photographs from the school. They’re endless. On lockers, in the bathroom; I even find one on the window of the main office. Hot tears splash against my cheeks as I become a tornado of purpose, and a sob of dismay leaves me as I enter the girls’ locker room.

  The door slams shut behind me, the thundering noise echoing in the pink-painted room. It’s final—the sound of my role as queen of Enid High School falling away. The pictures are on every locker, with more on the walls. One person could not have done all this. I don’t just have Lexie after me—I have a legion. Even Jocelyn seems to be in on it. There’s no point in taking down the photos. Everyone has either seen them, or at least knows about them.

  Sliding down the wall, I crumple to the dirty floor. I pull up my knees to my chin, and stare at the closest picture, literally feeling the moment I become unpopular.

  Fifteen

  Alexis

  I SHOULDN’T BE AT THE center on a Tuesday. I have no reason to be, other than the intense need to see Nick. The unbreakable veneer that separates Melanie from the rest of the student body cracked today, and it didn’t make me feel good, like I thought it would. It made me feel dirty. I want to feel clean.

  It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t responsible this time. For the rest of the school day, I just kept seeing her devastated eyes, and I know I helped bring her to the place where she now suffers. I raced from the school to here, needing to be reminded of who I am.

  Wanting to pace the room as I wait, I instead force myself to sit at one of the tables near the back of the visitation area. The room has mocha-colored walls, some abstract paintings in black and white, and round tables with chairs. A Live employee oversees the room from a desk near the doorway, presently looking at a magazine. It’s odd to be on the other side of this. I was the patient, not the one coming to see the patient. To be honest, part of me feels like I should still be here. I mean, undoubtedly, I have some issues I’m struggling with.

  Do I have to keep doing this? My dad and I are headed in a good direction, and in my heart, I said goodbye to my mom. There’s no point in caring for a woman who doesn’t care for me. I have Nick. I have my future. Why focus on the past? The black taint on my soul rears up, hissing that it isn’t enough. I haven’t gotten them back enough. But when is it enough? How far do I go? When do I stop? And what if I can’t?

 
; I chew on an uneven thumbnail as a shudder runs along my spine, my gaze shooting to a red-haired girl as she hugs a guy I am assuming is her boyfriend. A black tattoo crawls up the side of his neck, and the scent of cigarettes emanates from their corner. She’s crying, and his face is streaked with tears too. At another table, a middle-aged woman watches her son with wretchedness lining her face. The boy stares back, mute and unmoving. This place is sad, more than anything. Everyone here fights demons, and too often, they lose. My eyes on the doorway, I wait for a boy who makes me feel everything I don’t think I am.

  I forget to breathe when he appears in the doorway, his brown and blond hair disheveled, fear creasing the sides of his mouth. I almost smile at the dark blue fleece pants. His eyes dart around the room, and as soon as they find me, they stop. The room warms, and my heart beats harder. I feel his gaze all the way to my center; I bloom beneath it. I sit up straighter, and then I’m to my feet, moving for him.

  Nick meets me halfway, and grabs my elbows. Grip hard, his gaze searches mine. “Is everything all right?”

  “Kiss me,” I whisper, sinking in his ocean eyes. I could drown in them, and I know it would somehow be beautiful. “Make me feel like I’m really here.”

  Without an instant of hesitation, he leans toward me. Nick understands what I want, what I need. I breathe in his fresh scent, tasting something sweet on his lips—the toffees he likes to eat. I feel his kiss through every part of me, and I throb with yearning. I never knew a kiss could be this powerful.

  I want more. I want all of Nick. Skin on skin, with nothing between us. I’ve never been with a boy before, but I want to be with this one. His long fingers slide up my arms to cup my face. He holds me firmly, but carefully. Nick presses his lower half to mine, and I lose a fraction of control. I twist the fabric of his brown tee shirt between my hands, anchoring him to me. Nick brings me to life, dispels anything that hurts. I could live off him alone.