Avenged

by E. E. Cooper

  “Count yourself as lucky that she doesn’t insist you bleach your hair to match hers,” Beth said. She was sitting on the bench in the changing room in only her bra and panties.

  “I don’t get why our dresses have to match,” I said, pulling on the hem. The dress Brit had picked out for me was pretty, but even though it was the right size, it was more daring than something I would have picked out.

  “What you’ll discover is that it is far easier to give Brit what she wants than it is to argue with her.”

  “So you just give in?”

  Beth laughed. “Don’t look so disappointed. I can hold my own when I need to, but the truth is at least ninety percent of the shit that is life-and-death to Brit doesn’t really matter. So why fight about it?” Brit looked at me. “You look good in that. It shows your figure.”

  I blushed and then struck a sultry pose against the door. Beth blew me a kiss. I stared at my reflection. I was going to get the dress. If my parents balked at the cost I would dip into my savings.

  “If Brit insists on matching designer shoes, she’s going to have to pay for them,” I said.

  “We’re probably safe on shoes, but I’ll warn you now Brit is going to have to decide where we all go for dinner. God help you if don’t like seafood.”

  “Why is she like that?”

  Beth leaned against the wall, her feet tucked up under her on the bench. “The thing about Brit is that she needs to be the center of attention. If she’s not, for her it feels like things are spinning out of control. She’s like one of those rare orchids that need just the right amount of sunshine and water or they fall apart. Despite how she looks like she has her shit together, she doesn’t cope easily.”

  “That’s sad,” I said.

  Beth nodded. “Something’s missing in Brit. She’ll figure it out someday. She’s one of those people who will go to some weird spa/yoga camp in her forties and have a revelation while sharing kale smoothies with Oprah or something. But until she does she’ll fill the hole by bossing the rest of us around.”

  “Is anything missing for you?” I asked.

  Beth wriggled her eyebrows. “Now that I’ve got you? Hell no.”

  I was about to lean over and kiss her, but then I heard Brit coming with something for Beth to try on and I stepped back.

  If I’d known how few chances I’d have left to kiss her, I would have done it anyway.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The theme for prom was Fifth Avenue Glam. The gym was supposed to give you the sense that you’d just wandered off the ritzy streets of New York City and into Central Park. That is assuming you could ignore the vague smell of the cleanser the janitor used, or the fact that Officer Siegel was dressed up at the door checking people’s IDs. There were old-fashioned light posts covered in faux ivy from Michaels and white Christmas lights spaced around the room along with giant planters of bright tulips. The sophomores had painted a huge mural of a city skyline along the back wall. The whole thing felt shoddy and lame to me. The only thing that would have made the night right in my mind was Beth. She had the ability to make any situation fun; she was always cracking jokes, or making up challenges and games. Now that she was dead it was like the world had gone from Technicolor to being washed-out. Oz to Kansas. If she’d been alive, the gym would have felt magical. Now all I could see were the cheap paper decorations peeling away from the walls, and I hated myself for noticing.

  “Do you want to dance?” Zach asked. He was bopping in his seat like an overeager toddler. I felt a rush of warmth for him.

  “My feet hurt,” I said. The straps from my heels had cut into my ankles. I’d started to take them off not long after we arrived, but Brit had asked if I was planning to go barefoot like some kind of farmer, so I’d kept them on.

  Zach’s face fell. “Okay, sure.” He watched a few of his friends dancing wildly under the strobe light.

  “Go dance with them,” I said. Zach wavered. I knew he didn’t want to leave me on my own at the table. I poked him in the ribs. “I’m serious. Go get your funky on.”

  “You positive?” Zach was already up and peeling off his jacket.

  “Go,” I commanded. I waved at him on the dance floor. I could see his friends yelling something in his ear over the thumping music, and his arms and legs were already jerking around as if he’d touched a live wire. The guy was basically pure joy trapped in a nerd body.

  I searched the crowd for Brit and found her holding court by the drink table. When I was sure her attention was elsewhere I quickly poured some more rum from the flask that had been in my purse into her Diet Coke. My goal was to get her drunk. My last session with Dr. Sherman had convinced me that if I wanted things to be different I needed to do something different. I wanted her to lose the careful control that she always wore like armor. That would be the only way I could get proof. The only way people would believe me. I couldn’t keep waiting for her to slip up—I needed to give her a push. I also needed to make sure she slept like the dead tonight, and if that meant making sure she basically passed out, that’s what I would do.

  Despite the fact that she was acting loopy and giggly with wide gestures and frequent hugging, I could tell she wasn’t that far gone. It shouldn’t take much; she’d hardly eaten anything in weeks. However, Brit was a master at holding her liquor; she must be made of sponge. As much as I was willing the alcohol to seep into her brain, she seemed to be able to shrug it off, but I was feeling the effects. I had tried to stick to pretending to drink along with her, but there were times I had to have some to keep up the act.

  Jason worked his way back to our table and dropped a plate full of cheese and crackers in front of me. “You should eat something,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” I said, but there was a touch of slur to my words.

  Jason plopped down next to me and reached over to grab a cracker. “Your loss. The food is pretty good this year.” He smiled at me. “The night is just getting started. You don’t want to end up under the table before the party’s over.”

  He was right. My head was swimming. I nibbled on a cracker. We both looked over at Brit, a group of people clustered around her. “People can’t get enough of her,” I said.

  Jason nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t really listening to me: he was focused on Britney. I was tempted to ask him how he lived with his decision to come groveling back. I knew in order for Brit’s story to have the happy ending that everyone desired he needed to be by her side. People wanted the perfect couple to be together, and Jason was marching in step to give them, and Brit, exactly what they wanted. I hated him for being weak and because his leap to her side mirrored my own. I sighed. At least for me my loyalty was faked.

  Jason turned to me, his eyes softening. “Look, I know it’s hard to be Brit’s friend. She’s larger than life.”

  I looked at him in disbelief. “I am not jealous of her,” I said. I pictured myself standing up and confronting Jason with the truth. Pushing him to admit that Brit’s story reeked of bullshit.

  Jason leaned back. “All I’m saying is that it would be easy to understand. Brit can’t help who she is, but I know how much she values your friendship.”

  I pushed down a wave of nausea. I opened my mouth to argue with him, but an ice-cold hand landed on my neck. I spun around. Brit.

  “What are you two canoodling about?” There was a smear of lipstick on her front tooth.

  Jason inched his chair away from mine. “Just talking about how happy we are to have you back,” he said.

  Brit looked back and forth between us as if she was sniffing for lies.

  “Attention, everyone.” A squeal of feedback came from the stage, saving us from any more of her questions. “It’s time to name the prom king and queen!” Matt Cheavers, the senior class president, pointed at the DJ, who turned on the sound effect of a drumroll.

  Brit dropped into the seat next me and plastered a smile on her face. She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up a bit straighter.


  “This year we had a couple of runaway winners,” Matt declared. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to drag out the suspense of who had won or wanted to justify the practice of having a king and queen all together. There had been a protest letter going around earlier in the spring that the tradition was outdated.

  “This year’s Northside’s prom king is Jason Read.” A cheer went up from the crowd. The basketball team stood and chanted his name. A light searched the room and before it hit our table Jason reached over and squeezed Brit’s hand. When the light was on him Jason stood and then bounded over to the stage. The whole room cheered. Just weeks ago he’d been the public whipping boy for bad behavior, but now he’d bounced back to king. Matt balanced a crown on Jason’s head and handed him a scepter.

  Brit leaned over and quickly swiped a fresh coat of lipstick on her mouth. I tapped my tooth and she ran her finger over her front teeth. When she saw the smear of red I’d saved her from she shot me a look of gratitude.

  “And our prom queen, heck, the queen of our school, is the divine Britney Matson!”

  The spotlight whipped back around so it was shining on our table. Brit raised her hands to her face like she was shocked, as if we hadn’t all known the outcome was destined. She squealed and jumped to her feet.

  I leapt up too, and Brit threw herself into my arms for a hug. The smells of her perfume and the rum she’d had filled my head and made my nausea worse.

  She was already moving toward the front, stopping along the way to embrace other friends. As soon as she was close, Jason leaned over and offered his hand to help her up onto the stage. Brit bowed her head slightly to receive the giant beauty-queen crown.

  Someone stepped forward to give Brit a bouquet of roses. There was a silver ribbon tied around the stems. It matched her dress perfectly. Coincidence? I doubted it.

  The crowd was cheering. I clenched my teeth hoping that I looked like I was smiling and not grimacing. I clapped in beats of six, willing myself to remain calm.

  A small bunch of girls were standing near the door. They weren’t applauding. Sophomores. I was pretty sure they were in the band. Their faces watched the stage, disgusted. I didn’t know them, but I’d seen them in the halls. They were friends of Sara’s. It made me feel better that not everyone had decided to forgive and forget.

  One of the girls realized I was looking over and she slowly mouthed the words fuck you. I jolted back, surprised, as if she had yelled it in my ear, spraying my face with spit. The girl next to her grabbed the other’s elbow and they walked away.

  The DJ had turned on Brit’s favorite song, something by Adele. Jason and Brit started to sway together under the spotlight, and Brit made sure she was facing out so the cameras could get a good shot. Other people started to couple up for the dance. Zach was suddenly at my side.

  I took his hand and let him lead me out onto the floor. There was a mirrored ball spinning above that sprinkled the dance floor with circles of light spinning around making me feel dizzy. Glittered confetti and balloons were drifting down from the ceiling. It was as if I were walking on the deck of a heaving boat, unsteady.

  Brit looked positively glowing. I’d hoped her spay tan would make her look orange, but it didn’t. Everything about her looked ideal. The way she’d planned it down to the smallest detail. She never seemed to take a single misstep. My gag reflex was cued, and for a second I thought I might vomit right in the middle of the dance floor.

  Zach stopped dancing. “Are you okay?”

  “Do you mind if we sit back down?” Zach placed his palm in the center of my back and wove me through the crowd back to our table. Once we were seated Zach dashed off and came back a second later with an ice-cold water bottle. I pressed the sweating plastic to my forehead for a beat and then opened it, taking a deep drink. “Sorry, I think I had too much to drink.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?” I glanced up at him. “I know you must miss Beth,” Zach said. “Sometimes when everyone around me is the happiest is when I’m most aware of what’s not right in my life.”

  His words hit me. My lower lip shook. Zach didn’t know the whole story and yet he still cut through everything to the truth. Being mad at Brit for getting her dream of being prom queen was easier than missing Beth. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “You don’t have to talk.” Zach squeezed my hand. I leaned my head on his shoulder and let the music just wash over the two of us.

  “Okay, everyone, let’s raise a glass to our queen!” Melissa called out a few minutes later once the official royal dance was completed. Nearly the entire field hockey team was surrounding Britney. Brit was flushed as if she’d just scored the winning goal. Everyone let out a cheer and raised their cups.

  “I love you guys,” Brit said. She swayed slightly in her heels. The rum was finally catching up to her—that or she was drunk on attention.

  “I bet the picture of you getting crowned goes viral,” Kate gushed. “You look killer in that dress.”

  Brit cocked a hip and puckered her lips. The sight of her mugging for all the cameras made me want to shove her. I took a deep breath. Now was the time to push, but not physically.

  “Let’s raise a glass to Beth too,” I said, making sure to avoid Brit’s eyes. “Having her here would have made tonight perfect.”

  Everyone lifted their cups again. “To Beth!” they cried out.

  People started sharing stories about Beth, and I kept shooting glances at Brit, seeing if the move of the spotlight would make her snap, make her perfect exterior slip as it did sometimes when we were alone, but she was watching me with an odd smile on her face.

  Brit stepped forward, cutting Kate off midstory about how Beth used to help out new players on the team. “I’m glad Kalah mentioned Beth; it gives me a chance to make an announcement.”

  What was she up to? I’d wanted her to snap at someone that her getting the prom crown now was more important than something Beth did months ago, but she didn’t seem fazed at all. Brit paused to build the tension.

  “As you guys know, my parents had collected a bunch of money for a foundation in my name, and while I totally am in support of their goal of using most of that cash to set up some counseling programs, I’ve talked to them about setting up a scholarship to remember Beth. I’ve arranged for the news to be released to the media tonight.” She motioned to the back of the room, and that was when I realized that many of the people who had been taking pictures of her were reporters.

  Our group went totally silent. Amy’s eyes went wide and she made an “aww” sound.

  “I want to leave a legacy that recognizes Beth.” Brit smiled. “I think she would like the idea of helping someone who was struggling to pay for college costs the way she was.”

  “That is the nicest thing ever,” Melissa said. “It’s like a monument to your friendship with her.”

  Brit waved away the compliment. “It’s not about me; this should be about Beth.” She wagged her finger at all of us. “Don’t get me wrong. Beth was no saint, but I loved her even more for her flaws. Besides, I’m no saint either.”

  Our teammates insisted she was practically a saint. Brit covered her face.

  “I miss her so much.” Brit drew in a sobbing breath, but I could see there were no tears on her face. “Beth should have been prom queen,” Brit said. The team rushed to tell her that no, she was the one who truly deserved the crown. They oozed platitudes like how Beth would have wanted Brit to be queen and how even now she must be smiling down on her. As Melissa hugged her, Brit looked over at her shoulder, straight at me, and smiled.

  I watched everyone fuss over Britney, and it struck me how unfair it was. The real Beth was slowly being forgotten, wiped away by selective memories. The truth was that Beth could be a bitch sometimes, but she was also the same person who would patiently spend hours with someone who needed her. She was a real person, a mix of flaws and wonderful things all spun together. Now that Beth was gone, she was flattening out, becoming a cardboar
d cutout of who she had been. Soon all that would be left would be photos in the yearbook and bland stories sucked dry of the energy that had made her so special. They say time heals all wounds, but the truth is it isn’t time, it’s that the memories dull so they can’t cut you anymore.

  I wanted to keep Beth with me, but with every day, every minute, she faded and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The evening was finally starting to wind down. The guys had their jackets off and their bow ties hanging loose around their necks like they were crooners from 1950s Las Vegas. People were already starting to swap memories, as if things had happened years ago instead of just earlier in the evening.

  I was ready for it to end. My feet hurt and my head was still spinning from all the rum. I didn’t feel tipsy and drunk anymore; I’d skipped that giddy phase and instead felt off balance and exhausted, like I’d already moved into the hangover stage. My plan to get her drunk and have her real personality break through had been a bust. If anything I had the sinking sensation she knew what I’d been trying to do.

  The DJ demanded everyone get back out on the floor. Brit sighed dramatically and flopped back in her chair. “I don’t know if I can dance anymore. My feet are going to fall off. I can’t believe the photographers took so long.” Brit’s family had arranged for the media to show up and get a picture of her, crown on, of course, holding the sign for the foundation. Dedicating a few dollars in Beth’s name had given her an excuse to be in front of the cameras yet again. No wonder she’d wanted to make sure her dress was perfect.

  “We should decide where we want to go after this,” Jason said.

  “I thought Kalah might want to stop at the cemetery, at Beth’s grave,” Brit said. Zach reached for my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “If things had been different they’d be here together. The couple with the mostest.”

  Zach stiffened. “What?”

  “God, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other,” Brit said with a laugh.