Avenged

by E. E. Cooper

  “I’m so glad you came,” I’d hear her say through the receiver. Her other hand would touch the glass between us as if she needed to make a connection.

  I’d look great, my hair blown out, nails done, and makeup perfect enough for a photo shoot. As if the lighting and air around me were somehow better. I’d be just a bit brighter, shinier, superior.

  I would smile first, so that my words would be even more unexpected. “I know you did it. I knew the whole time,” I’d whisper softly into the clunky phone receiver. She’d watch my red lips as if she could read something different on them. Her mouth would open and close in shock.

  “Kalah?” Her voice would crack.

  “Beth was a million times better than you. I hope you rot in here.” Then I would hang up the phone before she could say anything else. I would waggle my fingers at her and slide my chair back. Brit would pound on the glass, screaming at me. There would be those tiny clots of spit in the corners of her mouth, like wads of Elmer’s Glue. Because of the thick reinforced glass with wire mesh I wouldn’t be able to make out exactly what she said, but the truth is, I wouldn’t care. There was nothing she could say that would matter anymore. The guards would grab her and begin to drag her back to her cell, or maybe a brief stint in solitary confinement. I’d wave my fingers at her again, letting her watch me walk away before the cell door clanged shut on her.

  “Watch out.”

  Almost shocked to find myself still in the halls of Northside instead of jail, I stopped inches from slamming into one of the junior football players.

  “Look where you’re going,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, but he was already walking away. I blinked a few times to ground myself in the here and now. Brit wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit.

  Yet.

  I felt the smile spread across my face like warm honey. One step at a time. Then I saw Zach. He was fishing through his locker and he was alone. An opening to talk to him and explain myself. Before I could second-guess the plan, I went up to him.

  “Hey,” I said. Zach looked surprised to see me. “I tried to text you a couple of times over the weekend.”

  “I know.” His face was blank giving, nothing else away.

  I plunged on. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

  Zach let out a bitter laugh. “I bet.” He tossed his book, World History: Journey from the Past to the Present, into the locker hard enough that I could hear it bang against the back wall.

  I bit my lip. This was going even worse than I’d expected. I’d known he’d be hurt, but he was also mad. “I want to explain,” I tried.

  Zach held out a hand to stop me from talking. “I don’t want an explanation. The truth is I don’t want a thing from you.”

  “I wanted to tell you about Beth, but I didn’t know how. You have to know that I really did care for you, do care for you. My feelings were all mixed up, but I do know you are one of my best friends. It was all just so complicated and then after Beth was gone I didn’t see the point in hurting you.”

  Zach shook his head. “You didn’t see the point?” He slammed the locker shut with a clang that echoed down the hall. People near us turned around, sensing a drama in the making. “Spare me the I care for yous. It doesn’t make it better; it makes it worse because what’s clear is that you don’t have a clue about what it means to actually care about someone.” He spun away.

  I grabbed his elbow. “Zach, wait.” He jerked his arm from my grasp.

  “Leave me the hell alone.” His voice was sharp and harsh. I stepped back as if he’d slapped me.

  “Okay,” I said softly. He stalked off.

  I could hear whispers from people who’d seen the whole thing. I forced myself to put my chin in the air and look around. No one would meet my eyes, but they did shut up.

  The news from Derek’s article and finding the waitress apron had made me cocky. I should have given Zach more time. Let him come to me when he was ready. I took a deep breath and tried to erase the feeling that I’d just managed to make things worse.

  I looked up to see Officer Siegel watching me from the doorway to her office.

  I dodged down the hall and slid into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I’d see Brit soon, and I needed a second alone to prepare myself. I didn’t know how she would be coping with the pressure, the snide whispers, and the sense that you’ve heard your name being spoken, but when you turn around no one is looking at you. I would need to be there for her. She was used to being on top; it would shake her to be on this end of things. I was just about to leave when the door swung open and a bunch of my teammates walked in.

  “I swear if she wasn’t going to Cornell she could be someone’s personal shopper. That dress was beyond,” Melissa said. “Oh, hey,” she said when she spotted me at the sink.

  I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my lip gloss. I nodded at her in the mirror.

  “Did you see the prom pictures I put up? I tagged you in a couple,” Amy said to me.

  “Um. No,” I admitted.

  “Hands down, best prom ever,” Melissa said. “The pressure is going to be on our class next year to even come close to beating it. Jason and Brit looked perfect.”

  As everyone primped their hair, they detailed the highlights of the dance. I found myself staring at their various faces waiting for one of them, any of them, to mention the article about Brit.

  Then it hit me. They were sure I was Brit’s bestie; they must be worried about bringing it up in front of me. I tapped open the one stall door that had drifted shut to make sure we were alone and then lowered my voice. “So did you guys see that thing in the paper yesterday?” I asked. I shook my head like I couldn’t believe it. “Brit is super upset.”

  Amy shrugged. “I saw her this morning at the coffee shop and she seemed fine.” She added another layer of sticky-looking pink goo to her lips, giving her reflection a smack.

  “She’s putting a good face on things,” I said. “You know how Britney is, but the truth is she was crushed.”

  “I got the feeling her family knew he was going to write something about the police not doing anything for a while, that’s why they wanted to make the announcement about the foundation last night,” Kate said.

  “That’s cold,” Melissa said. “They wouldn’t do that.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. Her opinion of Brit’s family was as high as my own. But if Brit had known about the article, why had she been so upset? Granted, seeing something in black and white is different.

  “That reporter guy’s a douche bag—Brit and her family knew that,” Melissa said and then launched into how she wanted to go back to the place where she bought her prom shoes and demand a refund because the heel was coming loose already. I wanted to grab her by the shirt and shake her until she shut up.

  “I think we should all try to make sure we give Brit some extra support today,” I said, interrupting Melissa’s lecture on declining retail quality.

  “For what?” Kate asked.

  I let out an annoyed breath. “Because of the article,” I said tightly. “I know we don’t believe anything is weird about how Brit came back, but some people might.”

  “Why?” Melissa said. “Who cares where she was when she was gone? The point is that she came back.”

  The girls around me nodded. My heart sank. They honestly didn’t care. I’d thought the rumors would stir things up, make people curious, but instead they seemed to feel sorry for Brit. They thought she was the victim.

  “You’re sweet to worry about her,” Amy said, giving me a jostle with her shoulder. “But you know Britney better than anyone; she’ll be fine.”

  I pressed my lips into a smile. “She sure will.”

  The bell rang and everyone grabbed their stuff, splitting up in different directions down the hall, calling out that we’d all have to meet up later. I jogged toward my French class and then, when I was out of sight, stopped and leaned up against the closest locker.

  The article
hadn’t made any difference. I’d been so sure people would suddenly see the truth, but everyone was far too invested in the story they’d already told themselves. I’d made a mistake this morning when I’d tried to talk to Zach, and I’d made an even bigger one when I’d been foolish enough to think people would be swayed by some newspaper article. People believe the truth they want to believe. I was going to have to keep pushing.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I’d like to talk about Beth today,” Dr. Sherman said.

  The sound of her name was an electric jolt to my heart. After the ups and downs yesterday, I wasn’t sure I was up for this emotional roller coaster. I’d tried to beg out of today’s appointment, but my mom had just kept smiling, and now I was stuck here again. The plain furniture, cream-on-cream color design, and lack of personal details made me feel like I was stuck in hell’s waiting room. “What about Beth? She’s gone.”

  “I think exploring your emotions surrounding Beth, and how that relationship worked, would be helpful.” Dr. Sherman looked down at her notes. “How did you meet her?”

  I shifted in the chair, casting my mind back to the beginning. I didn’t want Dr. Sherman digging around in my feelings for Beth in some kind of mental archaeological project, and at the same time I relished the idea of talking about her. Beth was a subject most people avoided; their faces would break into a tragic expression and they’d change the subject as soon as possible. The only person who didn’t seem to mind talking about her was Britney, but for obvious reasons that was complicated in an entirely different kind of way.

  “Beth and I were on the same team. We knew each other for a while before we hung out, mostly just to say hi in the halls, that kind of thing. It was really Brit who asked me to be a part of their group.” Brit told me that she recognized something in me—something that was like her, but now I think she’d recognized something else. She’d somehow guessed that I would let her push me around.

  Dr. Sherman’s eyebrows went up slightly. “So Beth initially wasn’t interested in spending time with you. That must have been difficult if you liked her.”

  “It was only after I got to know her that we got close,” I explained.

  “And eventually it turned sexual.” Dr. Sherman’s words seemed to land with a thud in the room.

  I swallowed but willed my voice to stay calm. “Yes.”

  “But you were dating someone else, is that correct?” She looked down at the papers on her desk. “Zachary.”

  I flushed. I was ashamed of the situation with Zach. There was no way to explain how I felt for him and Beth at the same time. It didn’t make sense to me, so I had no way to explain it to anyone else. Now he wasn’t even talking to me. “I never set out to cheat on Zach. It just happened.”

  “I hear some defensiveness on this subject in your voice. Did it bother you to have feelings for another girl?”

  I wanted to tell her that talking about my sex life with a random adult was enough to make anyone defensive. “What bothered me is that Zach deserved better. At the time I was still sorting out my relationship with Beth. I wasn’t sure where things were going. I knew I should tell him, but I didn’t know how.” I shook my head. “That’s not true. It wasn’t the how that confused me; I was just scared. It was complicated.” Complicated didn’t begin to cover it. I felt ashamed of what I’d done. Disgusted with myself for being so weak that I hadn’t the guts to tell him and now there was no way to fix it. I was a cheater. I didn’t want to see myself that way, and now I couldn’t avoid it.

  Dr. Sherman nodded. “Where did you want things to go?”

  There was a thick knot in my throat, like I’d swallowed Roogs, my stuffed dog, and he was wedged halfway down. “I cared a lot about Beth. She was different. Special. She made me feel special.”

  “And you’d never felt that before?”

  “Not like that. Not so all-consuming,” I admitted. It felt like another betrayal of Zach. Zach was warmth and comfort. Being with him had been like coming home. Things with Beth had been bright colors and electric heat. It made me feel like I was finally alive, as if I’d surfaced from being under the water and taken my first deep breath in forever.

  “And how did Beth feel?” Dr. Sherman asked.

  I chewed on my bottom lip. That was the real question, wasn’t it? I’d put off asking her because I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer, and now I never would. “I think she felt the same.”

  Dr. Sherman had her hands folded together as if in prayer and rested her chin on the tips of her fingers. “How would you have felt if Beth didn’t share your feelings? What if the relationship for her was just fun, a fling of sorts?”

  I flinched. “I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know what she thought.”

  “I know you don’t know her feelings; I’m not asking you to guess. I want you to imagine your feelings if she told you she wasn’t interested. I understand from your parents that she wasn’t the type to settle into a longer-term relationship.”

  I felt my hackles rise. “Are you saying Beth was a slut?” Dr. Sherman’s eyes widened slightly. If she wanted to toss emotional grenades out into the room, she’d better be prepared that I would throw some back.

  “No. I don’t believe that women, or men for that matter, who choose not to engage in committed relationships are somehow morally deficient,” she said smoothing her gray skirt over her legs. “Sexuality is a good thing, healthy, and how people choose to express it is their choice. However, it’s important that the people they interact with have the same expectations.” Her voice was calm.

  “So you think she was playing with me.” I wanted to get up and pace the room.

  Dr. Sherman paused, her finger tapping on the side of the pad of paper. “I find your response interesting. I never said that she was playing with you. My question is how you would have felt if you discovered that Beth’s interest in a relationship wasn’t the same as your own.”

  “It would have been shitty,” I said. “Is that what you want me to admit?”

  “Kalah, I’m not asking you to admit anything.”

  “Then what’s the point of this?” I asked. My voice came out sharp and clipped. I hated giving her the satisfaction that she was getting to me.

  “Is it possible that you read the cues from Beth incorrectly?”

  I closed my eyes. She wasn’t going to give up; she was going to keep hammering on it until my heart was pounded flat. I opened my eyes and stared at her. “Yes. It’s possible, but I don’t believe that’s what happened. I’m not saying that Beth was going to want to be with me forever, but do I believe that she honestly cared for me? Yes, I do.”

  “How was this different from what you felt about Madison wanting to be your friend?” Dr. Sherman cocked her head to the side.

  Her accusation was a punch to my gut. I wanted to fold up in the chair. I couldn’t believe she’d said that. “They’re nothing alike. Madison messed with my head. That’s what she does. She likes to manipulate people. Beth wasn’t cruel.”

  “You seem to still have a lot of anger over Madison.”

  Was she kidding? A wave of red rage washed over me. “Yeah, I do have some anger. She totally fucked up my life. I had to change schools, my head got all messed up, and I ended up here.”

  Dr. Sherman leaned forward. “Your problems with anxiety are a medical condition. It’s no different from if you had diabetes or arthritis. I believe the situation with Madison flared your symptoms, in the same way that if you tried to run a mile with no training it would worsen a knee condition.”

  I crossed my arms. Dr. Sherman could say what she liked. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand that mental health was as real as a physical problem, but there was no way things would have turned out the way they had if Madison hadn’t made me a target. And I wouldn’t be here now if Britney hadn’t done what she had to Beth, and then lied about it to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand I had some role to play in things. I was a participant in the whole ugly me
ss.

  “The reason I’m bringing this up is to help you explore if it’s possible that what you felt for Beth, and what you believe she might have felt for you, has been filtered through your illness. If it has, then that might explain why you are struggling so much now that she’s gone.”

  It took me a beat to realize what she was saying. “You think I was obsessed with her,” I said. “That what happened with Beth was just a different spin on what went down with Madison. That I manufactured all of it in my head.” I couldn’t believe she’d said that to me. That she would have the gall to try and rip away what I’d had with Beth and make me someone who would go too far. I shoved away the image of me creeping around Brit’s dark room looking for evidence. That wasn’t weird—that was required. And it had worked. I had found something.

  Dr. Sherman’s face was neutral, as if she hadn’t just detonated an emotional nuclear bomb in the room. “I’m not saying that’s what happened, but I think you need to be open to exploring it. That’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I said. “Look, I get that I have anxiety and a whole bunch of issues, but what I felt for Beth was real. What we had wasn’t in my head. I don’t need to get over that as if it were some kind of sickness.” I was shocked she would say this stuff to me. My parents sent me here to get over the trauma of Beth’s death, not make me feel worse about it.

  “Do you see any patterns in your behavior?”

  “What kind of patterns?”

  Dr. Sherman leaned back. “Therapy isn’t about finding a right answer or a wrong answer, but rather exploring the possibilities and, almost more important, your response to those options.” She reached across the desk and touched my hand lightly. “What I’d like to discuss is why you choose to take actions that aren’t moving you toward something positive.”