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Mean girl_A dark, disturbing psychological thriller

Page 9

by Natasha A. Salnikova


  Her dad called five minutes before she finished and said he was waiting on the balcony. Apparently, this time they decided that going and meeting her outside didn’t make sense. The unknown maniac who kidnapped Vera wasn’t going to reappear on their territory.

  By the time Corby went outside in the wind and rain, she already had a plan. She wasn’t sure that it would change everything, would change the attitude of her schoolmates toward her, but she knew that it would change her own attitude. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t think of herself as if she was nothing. It wouldn’t take her so long to describe her own characteristics. She would know herself. Wasn’t that the biggest problem of teenagers? They didn’t know themselves and were trying to understand. She was also only a teenager and her wishes didn’t differ much from what others wanted. She desired to be accepted, not to be an outcast, she wanted to be popular. Maybe she was exaggerating about popularity. Corby remembered watching a lot of movies where the ugly ducklings, the girls who were teased and laughed at, became prom queens. Everything was possible in life and she wanted to have the best life possible.

  CHAPTER 14

  Corby couldn’t find the right moment to talk to Sylvia. The classmate who promised to kill her was never alone. She was always in the company of Jane or other girls. Several times she looked at Corby with her eyes narrowed, showed her a fist, or ran a finger across her throat. All this meant only one thing. She threatened to deal with Corby if she, God forbid, were to communicate with Glasgow. Jacob, at the same time, didn’t pay any attention to Corby or Sylvia. He either spoke enthusiastically with his friends or carefully listened to teachers. Corby caught a conversation where Jacob complained that his mother threatened to forbid him to play football if he didn’t pull up his grades. Jacob insisted that his mother would never do that. Football was going to help him get into a good college much better than any grades, but he still tried hard and Ms. Gullen even praised him for his last exam.

  Before the last class Corby made a desperate decision to follow Sylvia, but she didn’t want anyone to notice what she was doing. So she stopped to drink at the fountain, or to check her locker, or to tie her sneakers. In the end, she broke down and wrote on a piece of paper that they needed to meet and talk in private. Crumpling the paper and holding it in her hand, she took a moment when Sylvia paused at the fountain and slipped the note into her hand.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she hissed and went down the corridor. The recess was almost over.

  She was shocked with her own arrogance and didn’t know if Sylvia would come when she sat on a bench in the girls’ locker room, which was empty, but her classmate appeared there in two minutes. She looked at Corby with surprise and disdain.

  “What do you want, Mackentile? You want me to pay for your phone? Fuck you.”

  “The phone works,” Corby said. “Don’t worry.”

  “What makes you think that I worry? It means I didn’t step hard enough on it. That’s okay, I can do it again.”

  “We don’t have time, Sylvia. We have to get back to class.”

  Sylvia didn’t expect such a bold tone from Corby probably, because her eyes widened. It seemed that she didn’t know what to do first, but then she grimaced, sniffed, and finally grinned.

  “Interesting. Talk. Is it about Jacob? I told you to stay away from him and I wasn’t joking. We have nothing to discuss there. What’s your problem?”

  “You haven’t let me say a word.”

  “You’ve really lost it.” Sylvia was taken aback by Corby’s loud voice. “Go ahead. I’m listening. I hope it’s important.”

  “I know something about Jacob and Vera.”

  “What?” Sylvia leaned forward. “Like what?”

  “I need to share it with someone.”

  “What do you know?”

  “More than you think.”

  Sylvia moved closer to Corby.

  “Tell me right now,” she said.

  “I’ll tell you, but not now. Now we have to go back to class. Only that day, when Vera came to the shop, she told me something. She told me where she was going after.”

  “Meet Jacob?” Sylvia said in disbelief. “Fuck you.”

  “You don’t want to know? Well, okay.”

  Corby turned to the door and Sylvia grabbed her arm.

  “Whoa. What did she tell you?”

  “Something very interesting. What I didn’t tell the police.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Your call.” Corby pretended to leave again, knowing that she had already won.

  “Tell me right now.”

  “I can tell you, but ...”

  The bell rang.

  “Speak!” Sylvia cried.

  “Can you come today to my shop? You drive, right?”

  “Yes, I got a student permit. I can ... What are you talking about? Why would I …?”

  “One condition.” Now Corby approached Sylvia. She would never do this, but there was the image in front of her eyes. Vera, her body lying on the bottom of the freezer, her face covered with a thin layer of frost.

  “Are you crazy? Sylvia asked.

  “If you want to know what Vera told me, you will come to meet me today at my shop at six o’clock. You’re not bringing anyone with you and not saying a word to anyone.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll tell Jane right now.”

  “Are you sure about Jane? Or Molly? Are you sure they won’t spill the beans and your favorite guy Jacob won’t go to jail?”

  “Go to hell! I don’t believe you!"

  “As you wish. I guess you don’t care about him as much as you say. Maybe it’s not his fault, who knows, but the police need to first prove otherwise.”

  Sylvia stared at Corby, panting and clutching the handle of her fashionable bag with all her strength.

  “As you wish,” Corby said. “I won’t tell you anything, and just try to prove that I was with you now and invited you somewhere. Everyone in school knows that you hate me. By the way. I have to tell someone. If not you, I’ll tell it to the police. They will be very interested to listen to what I know.”

  Sylvia opened her mouth in shock.

  “You are such a bitch,” she uttered.

  “At six,” Corby said and walked out of the locker room. Barely closing the door, she leaned against the wall and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. Sylvia was so shocked that she certainly didn’t notice them. She didn’t notice that Corby was standing by the wall when she burst out of the locker room and raced to class.

  Corby breathed out and covered her face with her hands for a moment. This brief conversation took more strength from her than cleaning the whole shop. She was dizzy, her stomach ached, her palms were damp with sweat. She had never thought she could talk like that to anyone, especially to the coolest girl in school. One of the coolest. She probably couldn’t talk with Jane like that yet. Her blue eyes were too angry and arrogant. Her facial expression was much colder than Sylvia’s.

  “Will she come or not?”

  When Corby regained the ability to move, she walked to the classroom for Spanish. The teacher was surprised that her best student came late, but asked no questions. Corby thought that she was probably so pale that there was no doubt she didn’t feel well. The teacher just asked if she was all right and Corby said yes.

  “Now, yes,” she said.

  She looked at the trio: Sylvia, Jane and Molly, and their facial expressions told her that Sylvia was quiet. Corby sat down at her desk and thought about food the whole time. She even missed the question addressed to her and the teacher asked if she needed the medical center, but Corby just shook her head.

  Butterflies were flying in her stomach, one at first, and then a whole kaleidoscope. She didn’t know how to wait for the evening. Food, maybe only food, could calm the storm in her stomach.

  CHAPTER 15

  Corby walked from corner to corner, rearranging napkins, correcting flowers, looking in the mirror. Never in her life had she felt so
nervous. She took a pill, which she stole from her mother’s orange bottle and it calmed her nerves a bit, but she probably needed time for the tablet to start working. Or maybe her excitement was so strong that nothing would help anyway? Corby didn’t know, but she had to wait ten minutes more.

  She went to the bathroom, washed her hands twice to kill time, and redid her ponytail. When she came out of the bathroom, she realized that she was calm. The weight that had pressed on her shoulders was finally lifted for some time. She walked into the shop and waited for a knock at the door. Sylvia came, seven minutes late, but she came and that’s all that was important.

  Corby opened the door slightly, shrinking from the wind that quickly slipped inside as if afraid that it wouldn’t be welcomed. Sylvia stood right outside the door, her hands in her pockets, pulling her head into her coat collar, and shifting from foot to foot.

  “Get in fast,” Corby demanded and slammed the door shut behind the girl. “Where’s your car?”

  “What? What’s the difference?” Sylvia said. Her teeth were chattering from the cold.

  “Because I don’t want anyone to see you or your car.”

  “Fuck you, Mackentile!”

  “I’m not going to talk to you,” Corby said.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes I am.” Corby was calm.

  “There is no parking around here, so I had to go to the garage down the road. The garage is expensive, so I had to find a spot like a mile from here. I froze while walking here.”

  “Where did you park?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Maybe you’re lying.” Corby’s voice didn’t waver.

  “Are you sick, Mackentile? Near the fucking bakery, Muffin Man. It’s like a mile from here.”

  “Not that far. Did you tell anyone that you were coming here?”

  “Mackentile, who do you think you are?”

  “Did you tell or not?”

  “No!” Sylvia screamed. “Are you high or something? You’re like a different person.”

  “Good for you. Your girlfriends might tell someone and then we could expect anything at any time.”

  “I’d be embarrassed to tell anyone I’m meeting you. Don’t worry— no one knows.”

  “Okay. We don’t have much time. My parents will start calling me soon.”

  “You think mine are different? I told them some bullshit, so they would let me go. Jane will kill me if she finds out.”

  “Jane won’t,” Corby said in a quiet voice.

  “Okay, start talking already.”

  “First, call Jane. I want to make sure you didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Are you kidding me?” The shock didn’t leave Sylvia’s face.

  “These are my conditions. I don’t want to have problems,” Corby said.

  “What should I tell her?”

  “Ask how things are going and what she’s doing.”

  Sylvia took a deep breath and blew the air out in an angry gasp. She looked at Corby for a few seconds then pressed her lips together so they looked like a thin thread, took the phone out of her bag, and dialed the number.

  “Put it on speaker,” Corby demanded. She had a feeling close to euphoria. Sylvia, the girl who didn’t let her make a step without a comment, submitted to her orders. She didn’t want to do that, of course, she rolled her eyes and snorted like a bull before the attack, but she did what she was told anyway.

  “Hello.”

  Jane’s voice. Corby hated her.

  “Hi, J. How is it going?” Sylvia asked.

  “Fine. You?”

  “Not bad. What are you doing?”

  “Watching TV. What do you want?”

  “Just wanted to talk … Oh, I got to go. I’ll call you back later if you have time.”

  “O-kay,” Jane’s voice sounded as though she thought that her friend was not right in the head.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye.”

  Sylvia shoved her phone back in her little purse.

  “Anything else?”

  “Thank you,” Corby said.

  Sylvia went into the shop, untying the scarf on her neck and looking around.

  “Pretty cozy. I’ve never been here.”

  “Thank you.” Corby watched her every move, her fashionable shoes with thick soles that stepped over the black-and-white tiled floor. Her jeans were fashionably frayed at the bottom.

  Sylvia walked to the showcase with sausages and stopped. “I don’t eat meat. Chicken only, but it’s chicken. I don’t understand how people can kill animals and then sell them.”

  “Chicken is an animal,” Corby said just to say something.

  “Whatever. Cow is an animal. Dog is an animal.”

  “Do you like animals?” Corby asked without interest. She was too calm and wanted to sleep.

  “Of course.” Sylvia turned back to Corby, who stood in the middle of the room without moving. “I have two cats, Bengals, freaking expensive, and a Yorkie. I love them.”

  “It’s a pity.”

  “What? Why?”

  “My dad is a vegetarian.”

  “Really? Wow! He worked with all this raw meat and became a vegetarian?”

  “I think it’s a bit more complicated. It doesn’t matter and you’ve probably heard about it anyway.”

  “I don’t care,” Sylvia said. “I didn’t come here to talk about our parents. What did you want to say, Corby?”

  “Why did you call me by name?” Corby took a step back.

  “What do you mean why? Your name is Corby, right?”

  “I didn’t think you knew my name. You always called me by my last name.”

  “I know your name. So what?”

  “Nothing.” Corby shook her head. Despite the pill, as it happened at other times, fear had penetrated her consciousness. Or, it wasn’t fear, maybe it was doubt.

  “What did Vera tell you?” Sylvia went to a table, picked up the vase, and sniffed the artificial flowers. “Ugh, disgusting. Real flowers would be so much better. These are dead. Dead animals, dead flowers.”

  Dead girls, Corby thought.

  “So. Did she have a date with Jacob?”

  Corby thought Sylvia tried to hide her tension just as she had, but for some strange reason Corby succeeded better. Or so she thought. And she knew that she started to feel tension in addition to doubt.

  “That was what she said,” Corby answered and bowed her head for a moment. It seemed to her that Sylvia’s eyes pierced her brain. If she got inside Corby’s brain, she would know about her plans.

  It was obvious that Sylvia didn’t have the talent of mind reading.

  “That bitch,” she said. “Why did she tell you that?”

  “I don’t know. She just started to talk and it came up.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “Yup. She said that if Sylvia finds out... if you find out, you’ll kill her.”

  “Just what I thought. She knows me. What a bitch.”

  “She asked me not to tell anyone. She said that she hates the way you treat me.”

  “Fuck you! Like she treats you better. What a bitch! I told Jane that she’s dumb, but Jane forgave her anything. What else? You look like there’s more.”

  “She said that she kissed him.”

  “Bitch! She knows I like Glasgow and she told me that she wants us to be together. She told me.”

  “Words mean nothing. She was going to meet him that day. I don’t know where, but she said she would meet him briefly because her mother would get mad. He waited for her in the car. Something like that. Then she was gone. That’s it. I haven’t seen her since then.”

  “I can’t believe it. And you hid it from the police?”

  “I didn’t want Jacob to get in trouble.”

  “Of course, you have a crush on him.”

  “Not true.”

  “Shut up already. It’s so obvious. I can’t believe this. Why did he apologize to you? Was it b
efore or after Vera disappeared?”

  “He gave me something and then said he wanted to take it back. Come, I’ll show you. It’s in my jacket.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you want to see it or not?”

  Sylvia rolled her eyes and followed Corby to the back room.

  The pill had stopped working for sure, because Corby suddenly started to shake. Each of her steps sounded like crashes in her ears, all surrounding objects became brighter, smells became stronger. Smells which she was accustomed to and didn’t sense before. Smells of smoked sausage on the counter, and chlorine, which Gaby used to mop the floor and clean the toilets. She sensed everything as if someone had ripped the skin from her body and her nerves were exposed.

  “What? Where?” Sylvia asked impatiently.

  “That way.”

  Corby entered a small room that only the butcher usually entered. He cut fresh meat into small portions for sale. The room was lined with tile for easy cleaning, because blood sometimes splattered around. There were hooks, knives, cutting boards, and a long metal table.

  “What are we doing here?” Sylvia winced. “This looks like a horror movie. Hooks? I have never been in a place like this. I want to get out.”

  “Just a minute. By the way, he sent me a new message.”

  “Who did? Jacob?”

  “Yes,” Corby said and smiled, trying not to show her real emotions. She was dizzy from fear, her vision was blurred, and she had circles in front of her eyes, but she didn’t have time to pull herself together. Her parents would start calling sooner or later, asking why she wasn’t home yet. “I’ll show you.”

  Corby went to another table to pick up the phone where she’d left it. The phone with the broken glass. The phone that fell under Sylvia’s foot which was sporting a fashionable sneaker. Sylvia, who threatened to kill Corby if she said one word to Jacob.

  “You are all right,” Sylvia said. “Not a complete loser as you seem in school.”

  “You don’t need to say that,” Corby said.

  “Whatever.” Sylvia shrugged. “I gave you a compliment, accept it.”

  Corby silently handed the phone to Sylvia.

 

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