Stephanie had recently arrived with her cheerleader friends, but Jess had no time to acknowledge her with the crisis that was unfolding.
It didn’t take long to catch up to Kelly; Jess had always been faster than she on the court. In a few quick strides she had the snake cornered in front of the lockers at the end of the hall.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I saw the note,” Kelly sneered. “In your locker! You and that cheerleader!”
In an instant, Jess recalled how she’d given Kelly her locker combination earlier. The realization of everything—and what it could mean—made her go numb all over. She needed to fix this fast.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Jess asked, trying to sound as annoyed as possible, hiding the shaking terror inside.
“The note in your locker,” Kelly repeated. “I didn’t mean to read it.” All of a sudden, she seemed to realize her own culpability in the situation. “I just can’t believe it.”
Jess quickly reviewed the note in her mind. Was there any room for another interpretation?
She pretended to suddenly recall the note. “You’re talkin’ about my friend from Bible study?”
Kelly looked confused. “It’s from Stephanie, your old friend, the cheerleader.”
“It’s my church friend Stephanie, you idiot.”
“Huh?” The snake was momentarily unsure of herself.
“She was thanking me ’cause I helped her with something.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Wow, you really are crazy, aren’t you?”
Jess was so close to escaping unscathed. Unfortunately the wheels kept turning in Kelly’s head. “‘I didn’t mean to, but I do’? ‘I love you’?” Kelly smiled wickedly. “Sure. Sounds like a thank-you note to me. Totally.” She folded her arms, her tone oozing sarcasm. Case closed.
A dark shadow descended upon Jess. The last thing she ever wanted was to be under the control of the snake, but it didn’t look like she had much of a choice now. Her face fell.
“I’ll do anything you want,” Jess whispered, her eyes begging for mercy.
Kelly smiled with satisfaction and still a touch of surprise.
“Don’t say a word,” Jess pleaded. “Please.”
“Look at you,” Kelly said. “The star of The Green Machine, the great shining hope…”
Jess was shaking all over, trying to stay composed.
“So you are a freak,” Kelly said.
“I’m not a freak.” Jess raised her head high and backed away a step. No matter her confusion, she’d never concede such a thing.
Kelly’s face scrunched up. “Do you two…?”
“No! Course not.”
Kelly seemed excited and at the same time unsure what to do with this newfound power. “This is pretty huge,” she finally said.
“Swear you won’t tell.”
“Okay,” Kelly agreed. “But you’ll owe me.” Gone were the pleasantries, the façade of friendship.
“It’s not what you think,” Jess said, thinking that if she minimized it, it might not seem as big a deal as Kelly obviously thought it was. But her initial reaction most likely had given it all away. She couldn’t undo that now.
“Right.” Kelly assumed a superior posture. “I think…it’s exactly what I think.”
In that moment, a surge of rage rushed through Jess’s veins, permeating every molecule of her body. Dizzying, perverse fantasies took hold of her mind, thoughts of punching Kelly so hard she bounced off the wall, of pummeling her until she was a pile of fine powder on the floor.
Forget the Ten Commandments. Jess didn’t care about being a good Christian anymore.
Chapter Forty-Three
Jess spent the rest of the day looking over her shoulder and wondering if others were whispering about her. Every classroom she entered seemed to get quiet with her entrance, though eventually she decided it was her own paranoia that was making it seem that way. She avoided talking to anyone. She couldn’t, especially not to Stephanie, not until she could get a handle on this. If she thought too much about it, tears would well up in her eyes and she’d imagine her parents confronting her. That was the worst outcome she could imagine.
Things came to a head at basketball practice, the battle lines drawn before the ball was ever in play. Jess received a pass from Fran and took the ball down the court, keeping Kelly in her sights. The snake was on the attack, aggressive, in her face every time she had the ball and sometimes when she didn’t. It only got worse when Coach Drysdale praised Kelly for “showing a little fire today.”
But when Kelly took hold of the ball, taking it down to the goal, Jess stole it from her and scored from midcourt. The coach waxed on about how perfect a shot it was.
The next time Jess had the ball, she took it down court again. Only this time, Kelly raced in, going for her heels, clearly not trying to steal the ball but to trip her. That was all it took. Before Kelly could make her move, Jess let go of the ball and shoved Kelly to the floor with both hands, full force. As the team galloped past them, trying to avoid her, Kelly grabbed her ankle and moaned. Jess recognized Kelly’s “fake pain” face.
“What the hell are you doing?” Coach Drysdale came over to the spot where Kelly had gone down. “Aimes? Why did you foul her like that? You had the shot.”
“It wasn’t a foul!” a teammate shouted. “It was an outright attack. She knocked her down on purpose!”
“Yeah!”
“No, she didn’t! Kelly was tryin’ to trip her!”
The team seemed to divide into two factions—those who were for and those against Jess. Fran just stood there, looking confused.
“I don’t wanna see that again,” the coach warned. “Now get outta here.”
Everyone ran to the locker room. Jess grabbed her bag, refusing to shower, trying to ignore murmurs about the coach playing favorites. She hurriedly pulled on her jeans, her nostrils still flaring, heart pounding at the thought of Kelly’s self-righteous face. As the reptile limped dramatically into the locker room, she paused by Jess’s bench.
“You won’t get away with that,” Kelly hissed.
Jess stopped what she was doing for a moment, turned around and shot her a threatening glare—a silent warning that she would not back down, even if Kelly held all the cards. They were like two natural enemies in the wild, casing each other, waiting to see if and when the other would strike. Kelly quickly moved away from any further confrontation, though Jess knew it certainly wasn’t over.
Jess took time to collect herself, to take a few deep breaths before heading back through the main halls of the building to the bus pick-up area. She grew numb again at the realization of just how much power Kelly had. What she had done was stupid, but it had been almost an unconscious reflex. It had felt so good to see her enemy go down. But the ramifications might be severe; she knew that.
She passed faceless students on all sides, moving one foot in front of the other, trying to comprehend everything that had happened. Once outside, she leaned against a pole, waiting in line for the bus. If things were different, she’d arrange to get a ride home from Stephanie, who had cheerleading practice every day after school, but she didn’t want to arouse suspicion. Especially not today. Today she felt more alone than ever.
Alex Thornbush tapped her on the opposite shoulder, but she didn’t look up because she knew it was him. He always thought it was amusing.
“Hey,” she managed. She didn’t know what was keeping her standing upright.
“We need to talk,” Alex said.
When she turned, he had the familiar starry-eyed look on his face. He was so sweet, so handsome. He deserved better than her. She thought that nearly every time she saw him.
“I think I love you,” he blurted. He seemed frustrated with himself, as though he had planned to say something else.
Jess thought of how ironic this day of declarations of love had been—how it had all gone so horribly wrong.
“No, you don’t,” she countered
.
“How can you say that?” he squealed. “I think about you all the time—”
“I’m already in love,” she interrupted.
“With who?”
“Boy George,” she said.
“I forgive you.” He smiled broadly at her, practically tripping over his excitement.
After a long exhale, she took off his jacket and gave it to him. “I just wanna be friends.” There was too much guilt; she had to let him off the hook once and for all.
She watched uncomfortably as the devastation sank in, the hurt in his face quickly turning to anger. “You know, lots of girls would kill to be my girlfriend!”
“Well, go grab one of ’em.” She didn’t mean for it to come out so nastily, but it did. Her anger at Kelly, her frustration…it was all suddenly directed at him.
He made an inaudible sound and stormed off with his jacket. She regretted the way everything had happened but was too upset to try and make it right. She held her head, feeling the mother of all headaches coming on…
Before she could do any more damage, her bus arrived. She escaped inside to the smell of staleness mixed with pencils and chewing gum. She preferred to sit toward the back, because it gave the illusion of getting away from everyone else. As the bus bumped and rattled over old country potholes, she stared out the greasy window at the smudged landscape of fields and hills that rose up into mountains on the horizon. It was an overcast afternoon, clouds hanging heavily over dead, bony trees. It was as if the countryside always knew her mood—trees bending with the beginning of a storm and gray threatening to blanket everything. Miles of unspoiled scenery changed color and personality with every season. She loved the landscape of her home, in spite of the pain she sometimes felt here. This was a beauty she treasured and always would, though sometimes she wished she didn’t.
It was like how she loved Stephanie. Neither felt safe to love. Whenever she showed enthusiasm at home about anything uniquely southern, like her favorite dish of biscuits and white sausage gravy, it seemed to upset—or further alienate—her mother. To avoid that, she generally kept quiet about liking anything that was associated with this place. Her feelings for Stephanie were obviously not safe or acceptable either. They would most likely upset everyone in her family—as well as the whole town. Which meant that they too had to be kept secret.
As the pain grew stronger, she turned away from the bus window and put on her Walkman. Not even Crystal Gayle could make this day better, though her voice rang in her headphones. Jess rested her head back, closed her eyes and imagined the ocean pictured in her mother’s calendars, imagined its tumbling water gently cleansing and soothing her soul, then turning into a misty gray before a storm, a shade that matched a color she knew so well—Stephanie’s eyes. In spite of everything that happened today, Stephanie had told her she loved her. That made it the most special of days.
Chapter Forty-Four
The peaceful humming of nature and the chirp of tree frogs signaled the calm before the storm at the dinner table that night. Lately every meal at home had tended to turn into a war; it was only a matter of time before some sort of emotional gunfire rocked the house.
Feeling her mother’s eyes on her, Jess shoveled food into her mouth as quickly as possible to avoid conversation. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about anything tonight. She only wanted to go up to her bedroom, curl into the fetal position and wish the world away.
“I ran into Abilene Thornbush today,” her mother said. “Jess?”
White-hot fear engulfed her. Had Kelly said something already? She didn’t trust her to keep her end of the bargain, especially after what Jess had done at basketball practice. It was like living with a time bomb, never knowing when the truth was going to blow wide open.
“Yeah?” Jess answered tentatively.
“She says her grandson Alex really likes you.”
Jess set down her fork in frustration. “Is it on the news too?”
“What’s the matter?” her mother pressed.
“Can I just eat in peace?” Jess snapped, holding her head.
Her father aimed his knife at her. “My dad would’ve killed me if I talked like that to my parents.” He basically said the same thing whenever she was rude. The only thing he altered were the punishments. His dad would’ve taken a strap to him, beat him with a steak knife, sent him to his room without supper. Jess wondered why he had never called child protective services.
“Sorry,” Jess mumbled.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked.
“The subject hurts my digestion.” She held her stomach.
“You’re eating too fast,” her mother said obliviously. “That’s what causes digestive problems.”
Jess sighed, staring up at the ceiling. She’d have to rip off the Band-Aid. “I broke up with him, okay?”
Jess might as well have shot off a gun at the table. All eyes were on her—judgmental, distraught faces—all except for Danny, who simply enjoyed any argument that didn’t involve him.
“When did this happen?” her mother asked.
“Today.” Jess shrugged as if it didn’t matter. And really, it was the least of her troubles.
Her father eyed his wife curiously. “Where was Abilene when you saw her?”
“At the bank. It seems she felt a need to tell me.” Her mom’s eyes darted back to Jess.
“It was at the end of the day,” Jess continued. “Right before I went home.”
“Oh,” her mother sighed. “So she doesn’t know yet.”
Her mother was talking to herself, as if trying to piece together times and places like she was solving a murder mystery. Jess wondered why her love life was so important to her. She knew about the connection to Abilene, how her relationship with Alex might have helped her mother in the cooking club. But since she had quit that club, why did her mother still care?
Jess refused to say anything more. She kept trying to stab a runaway pea that was rolling around on her plate simply to annoy her, all of a sudden reminding her of Kelly. She tried to ignore everyone at the table, but they were strong presences, each of them demanding something from her whether spoken or not. Family dinners, she knew, were designed to bring everyone together. But she always found herself hating everyone more by dessert.
Her mom didn’t lecture her, though. Jess was relieved about that. When her eyes caught Ivy’s, though, her sister looked somehow guilt-ridden, just because she knew Jess’s secret, and was likely to crack under pressure if she was interrogated by their parents. Jess began to worry.
Lucky for her, however, the spotlight had moved to Danny. Their mother didn’t approve of him spending time working at a local garage after school.
“Still going out there?” she asked him.
“Uh-huh,” Danny answered.
Tension filled the air again, that familiar feeling that something bad was about to happen…Jess started picking at the remnants of her meatloaf. She didn’t particularly like meatloaf, especially the word…a loaf of meat. How appetizing was that?
Their mother made a noise of disapproval at her son, a sigh mixed with a “tsk.”
Danny set down his fork. “What?”
“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for,” she said accusingly. “An A on your Industrial Arts assignment? Who else here has done that?”
“I didn’t take that class,” Ivy said with soft indignation.
“I know, dear.” Their mother nodded, as if that was a given. Poor Ivy. She’d been a perfect student for so long, taking harder subjects like calculus in high school, but nobody seemed to care anymore. Danny had gotten one surprising grade in a class, and it became newsworthy.
“Whose side of the family is good in Industrial Arts?” Carolyn asked.
“What exactly does that mean?” their father asked. “What do you do in that class?”
“We had to make a birdhouse,” Danny replied simply. “Mine wasn’t that good.”
“You got an A,” his mothe
r repeated.
“Yeah, but…” Danny shrugged. “The roof was lopsided. The teacher said only birds with deformed heads could use it, but he gave me a high grade ’cause it didn’t fall apart like this other guy’s.”
Suddenly the A didn’t seem quite so impressive. There was a moment of quiet.
“Well,” their mother said, “I think it’s a bad crowd over there, at the garage.”
“Who are these kids?” Their dad asked. He didn’t seem to care about his kids’ social lives unless they were drinking, doing drugs or having premarital sex. Then he would be all over them, as he’d say, “like a fly on a dung pile.”
“They’ve all dropped out of school, right?” their mother asked.
Danny wouldn’t look at her.
“Answer me!” she demanded. “You’re hanging around these boys who…who…”
“I know,” Danny said. “They’re losers.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s what you think. Guess that means you think I’m a loser too.” He threw his napkin across the table and left.
Their mother looked bewildered. “Am I crazy, Dan? I’m concerned that his best friends are high school dropouts.”
“He’ll make the right call,” their father replied, matter-of-factly.
* * *
Later that night in her bedroom, Jess heard her parents arguing next door.
“Yes, fixing things is…good,” her mom struggled. But she wasn’t convincing.
“A trade is a noble thing,” her dad said. “If he’s found a good trade, he can make a good living. Everybody needs their car fixed. You should be supporting him.”
“Oh, the way you’re so supportive of Jess’s basketball?” Her mother’s words cut sharply, a blade that Jess herself felt when she heard it.
“What do you mean? I bought the dang goal post, didn’t I?”
“Have you been to a single one of her games?” she asked.
Silence.
“You have very antiquated views, Dan.”
“How’s that?”
“A boy can do this, a girl has to do that. You have different standards for the girls than your son. You want the girls to get Nobel prizes, but Danny can sit around all day…”
Southern Girl Page 21
