Avenged

by E. E. Cooper

  “Do you have any contact info on Nicole—maybe an email or something?” I asked.

  Lizard got up and dug his phone out of a pile on the table. “Yeah, I can give you that.” He read her address out to me. “Thing is, I’m not sure how much she’s checking it. Do you know Nic at all?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Nic’s cool, but she’s weird.” He seemed completely unaware that since he went by the name Lizard and had homeless man–like toenails it was a bit ironic that he was calling anyone else odd. “She’s an aspiring writer. She wanted to take this trip with no access to social media as some kind of statement.”

  “Statement of what?”

  Lizard rolled his eyes. “She was always talking about how we were all turning into technology’s whores and how we’ve lost the ability to be in the moment.” He waved his hand to indicate that he’d blanked out whatever else Nicole had said on the topic. “She was going to write about the isolation of travel being freeing to find your true self, blah blah blah. Like that chick who walked that trail in California and then wrote a book.”

  “Well, thanks for this anyway.” I held up the slip of paper I’d written the email address down on.

  Lizard walked me to the door. “I hope you find your friend.”

  I smiled. I shoved Nicole’s address in my pocket. She was my best hope of an answer. Sooner or later she’d have to check her email. Brit might have pretended she was Beth while she was here, but I didn’t think she could keep up the act 24/7. Somewhere she would have slipped up. Called herself Brit. Talked about her real life. Mentioned her boyfriend, Jason, or the names of her parents. Made a mistake. Her roommate would be the best person to spot that something about her story was off. Once I had her to prove that Brit hadn’t been some confused amnesic, I could start tearing her story apart, eroding her lies, letting her fall.

  I stood with Nadir in the center of the packed Student Union food court.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked.

  “Not as much as I hoped,” I answered honestly, not thinking about retail shopping the way he was. “But it was still worth the trip.”

  “Of course it was—you got to see me,” Nadir said. His nose twitched in the air as he surveyed the different counters.

  “I thought we were going to Crunchy’s for burgers later,” I said.

  “Yeah, but study group made me hungry. It’s all the brainpower being used.” Nadir tapped the side of his skull. “It’s like I’ve got my own thermonuclear reactor up here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh.”

  “How about ice cream?” Nadir pointed. “Just to tide us over.”

  I hadn’t actually eaten at El Az, and I was hungry. My stomach growled, and that settled things. We walked up to the case with the frozen tubs encrusted in frost and Nadir instantly ordered his usual, vanilla. Thirty-one flavors and the guy got vanilla every single time. I perused the case, considering my options. I needed to go with two scoops just to cover my bases.

  “Hey, isn’t that your friend Britney?”

  I spun around and looked out over the concourse. Panic flooded my system. There was a girl with long blond hair moving away from us. I couldn’t see her face. I pushed past Nadir and tried to get a better look. Had Brit followed me down here? There was a group of students passing through and I had to fight the urge to shove them out of the way. The girl was way in front of me now, mixing with the crowds. I was losing her. I broke through a pack of girls at the top of the stairs and my eyes scanned the giant lobby. There were clusters of students on the sofas talking, a few were watching a volleyball game on the big-screen TV, and even more were sprinkled around with books and laptops, trying to cram. I couldn’t see the girl anymore.

  Nadir walked up to my side. “Where are you going? I thought you wanted ice cream.”

  “Are you sure it was Brit?” I asked.

  Nadir’s eyebrow arched. “I don’t know, she just sorta looked like her. What’s the big deal?”

  I wanted to grab his shirt and shake him. “I need to know if it was her.” My phone buzzed.

  It was a text from Brit.

  Hope u r having fun with grandparents.

  A clammy sweat broke out all over my body. I searched the room but didn’t see her. I typed back.

  Hope your weekend is good too.

  Not same w/out u! Gotta run xo

  I swallowed hard. It might just be a coincidence. Nadir hadn’t been positive it was her. If it had been her she would have confronted me. But what if she had been awake the night of prom and seen me find the apron? She would have been waiting for me to ask her about it and when I didn’t she would know I didn’t believe her lies. And if she knew that, I had no idea what she might do.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I lurked around the halls Monday morning hoping to spot Brit. I was almost certain Nadir hadn’t actually seen her in East Lansing, but I wasn’t positive. If she thought I’d lied to her she was going to be pissed. I’d prepared a story to cover my ass if needed, but it was a pretty weak lie. I chewed my thumbnail and craned my head down the hall, looking for her.

  “Kah-bear!” Brit tackled me from behind in a hug. I almost stumbled to the floor. “I missed you.”

  I turned around. “Hey.” I searched her face to see if she was ticked, but she looked relaxed and happy. Really happy. “You’re in a good mood,” I said.

  Brit winked. “I got a feeling today’s going to be a good day.”

  “Why?”

  Brit shrugged, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching up. The bell rang and people began to rush to class. Brit leaned forward and gave me a loud smacking kiss in the center of my forehead. “Catch ya later.”

  As she walked away I let out the breath I’d been holding. It hadn’t been her. That was a relief, but the fact I was paranoid for nothing wasn’t good. Things in my life were bad enough without me making them worse by picturing Brit popping up here and there.

  By second period, I found out why Brit was in such a good mood.

  There are few things that spread around a high school faster than really great gossip, unless of course it also includes nude photos.

  “If I had her mismatched nipples, I wouldn’t send anyone pictures,” Melissa said over lunch, earning a bunch of giggles from the crowd around our lunch table. “Seriously, did you see them? One of them is huge compared to the other. Nipple freak.”

  I stared down at my tray. I realized I’d been chewing the same mouthful of sandwich forever; it had turned to a thick paste. I struggled to swallow it down. Someone had posted an ad on Craigslist on the weekend, supposedly from Sara, advertising her talents as a sex expert. Someone else had grabbed a screenshot of the ad, which included a photo, and spread it all over online.

  The photo broke my heart. It was undeniably Sara. She was looking straight into the camera, her hands cupped under her breasts, offering them up. It could be seen as sexy, but I could tell she was shy. It was supposed to be a private photo. Sara must have really trusted someone to have sent it to them. Now every single person at Northside had seen it.

  “They called her down to the office last period—technically sending that kind of thing is a felony,” Kate said. “I bet she’s in huge trouble. Can you imagine having to sit across from Hamstead and know he’s seen your tits?” Kate shuddered.

  “It’s not like Sara posted the photo,” I said. While the ad was written as if it were from her, it was obvious someone else had done it. And by someone, it had to be Brit. I wasn’t sure how she’d gotten the photo, but this had her name written all over it. I’d hoped to catch her at lunch and ask her about it, but she’d had a student council meeting.

  I had the urge to check my email again to see if I’d heard yet from Nicole. I’d sent two emails already, but so far radio silence. I needed Nicole to give me another lead I could follow up on, and the sooner the better. Leaked photos were just child’s play to Brit. If Sara pushed back, or if Brit didn’t get the react
ion she wanted, she might up the ante.

  “If Sara didn’t want her photo spread all over, maybe she shouldn’t have taken it,” Kate said.

  “Spreading wide is apparently her talent,” Melissa said, her voice dragging out the word spread, and everyone laughed. The cafeteria held at least a few hundred kids, and when I glanced around I was willing to bet at least 90 percent of them were talking about Sara. The room was full of an eager buzz, like when an orchestra builds to a big crescendo.

  I wanted to point out that Sara wasn’t the only one who’d taken a topless photo—she probably wasn’t even the only one at this table. Sure, adults were always moaning about how digital mistakes took only a fraction of a second to make and a lifetime to regret, but people did it. Now everyone was acting like Sara had been discovered doing porn, versus being a nice band geek who’d sent a boob shot to her boyfriend. They had no idea of what the real stakes were.

  I saw Jason slinking out of the cafeteria. A group of Sara’s friends glared at him from their table. I mumbled an excuse to my group, but everyone was still too busy chewing over the scandal to notice when I slipped out after him. Jason must have given Brit the picture, and I wanted to know why he’d done it.

  I turned the corner and then stopped short, backing up so I wouldn’t be seen. Sara had Jason up against the water fountain. She’d been waiting for him, or maybe she’d texted him to meet her.

  “This is all going to blow over,” Jason said to her.

  “Easy for you to say—you’re not the one being humiliated.” Sara’s voice was shaking, but I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or tears. I lurked in the alcove that held a display of band trophies so I could overhear what they said.

  “What can I do to make it better?” Jason’s voice was low and soothing.

  “There’s nothing that will make this better. Have you seen the stuff people have been saying about me?” Sara took a sobbing breath. “You need to tell Brit she’s gone too far.”

  “Hey, there’s no reason to think Brit was involved,” Jason said. “I get that you don’t like her, but she wouldn’t do something like this.”

  Sara barked out a harsh laugh. “Are you kidding? I know she’s responsible. She hates me; don’t you get that? She’s determined to ruin my life.”

  “Ease up. Brit’s not like that.”

  “Are you blind?”

  I peeked around the corner. Jason looked annoyed, and Sara’s face was flushed red.

  “Look, I know you’re upset that we broke up, but don’t take that out on Brit. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. The photo was on my phone. I should have deleted it, but I’d forgotten it was there. My phone is always in my bag in the gym. Someone must have seen the photo and done this as a joke.” Jason held up both hands as if surrendering. “I’m not saying it’s funny or should have been a joke, but I’m trying to point out that anyone could have done it.”

  Sara shook her head. “You’re delusional. You’ve made Brit into something she’s not. What happened to all your talk about how Brit was trying to run your life, decide your entire future?”

  Jason ran his hand over his short-cropped hair. “Brit and I were having problems, but when I thought she was gone I realized that our problems were at least fifty percent my fault. I never told her how I felt.”

  “I don’t even believe her whole I lost my memory bullshit. She’s manipulating everyone now,” Sara said.

  I felt myself grow light-headed. Sara got it. She didn’t know what I did, but she suspected. Was there any chance that she was the anonymous source to the reporter? I wanted to dash around the corner and hug her. I’d never been so grateful in my entire life to hear someone say something.

  Jason grabbed Sara by the shoulders and shook her. “Stop it. It’s one thing if you want to blame me, but if you start spreading lies about Brit over this photo, or about some paranoid theory you have about her, I will stop you. She’s been through enough.”

  Sara looked at him as if she had no idea who he was. She pulled out of his grasp. “So you’ll do whatever you have to so you can cover for her. No matter how it impacts me.”

  Jason drew himself up so he was even taller. “I’ll do what I have to in order to protect her from false accusations. I’m serious, Sara, leave Brit out of this.”

  “She’s the one who won’t leave me alone.” Sara shook her head. “Forget it. You can lie to yourself if you want. This is all about you feeling guilty that Brit supposedly was ready to kill herself over you.”

  “This is about you being pissed I got back together with her,” Jason fired back.

  “Don’t be so arrogant as to think it’s always about you.”

  “Whatever.” Jason stepped around Sara and headed down the hall. “I came to tell you I was sorry about the photo, but if you’re going to throw around blame then don’t ask me to help you figure out who really did it.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Sara yelled after him. When she whirled around she saw me.

  I stepped fully out of the alcove. We stood like gunslingers in an Old West movie, both of us waiting to see who might draw a gun first. I was bursting with everything I wanted to say. That I was sorry about the photos, that I was certain she was right and Brit was behind it, that Jason was an idiot and how I was so happy, thrilled, to discover there was someone else who saw the holes in Brit’s story. If she was the source, maybe there would be a way we could work together. I opened my mouth, unsure what might actually come out, but Sara backed up quickly.

  “You like sneaking around and spying?” Sara spit. “Go on, crawl back to her and tell her the whole thing. You’re nothing but her lapdog.” She stomped off down the hall, leaving me standing there.

  Brit came up behind me and linked arms. “I’m starving. Let’s get coffee and split one of those chocolate chunk cookies they have.” Apparently her salad-only diet was a thing of the past. Being devious made a girl hungry.

  I wriggled out of her embrace. Brit smiled and waved a hand at someone as crowds swarmed around and past us, everyone keen to get out of school and into the early summer sun.

  “I told my mom I’d go home after school. She’s got a bunch of chores I’m supposed to do,” I said.

  Brit waved off what I said as if it were the irritating buzz of an insect. “What are you, Cinderella? You can clean the kitchen later. Cookies call to us now. Besides, you were at your grandparents’ all weekend. I miss you. I need me some Kah-bear time.”

  I trailed behind her. Our cars were parked next to each other in the front row of the student lot. Every morning the two places were left empty for us, no matter when we arrived, or how many other people were jockeying for the last few spots in the back row, which was studded with potholes and huge puddles. There was no official Reserved sign with our names on it, but there may as well have been.

  Brit jumped into her SUV. “See you there.”

  She hadn’t waited to see if I was going to insist that I had to do what my mom asked. There was a part of me that wanted to go straight home and blow her off, but another part had some questions.

  Brit had snagged a table in the front, and she lifted her latte cup in greeting when I came in. I got some tea and dropped into the seat across from her.

  “Cookies are in the oven,” Brit said. My eyes glanced over at the half-full glass cookie jar by the register. “I asked them to make a couple fresh,” Brit explained. “Is there anything better than when they’re hot? Besides, after today, I need a cookie—hell, I deserve it. I made them make one for each of us so I don’t have to share.”

  I slid my bag over so I could get my feet fully under the table. “What happened? I thought you were having a great day.”

  Brit shrugged. “I don’t know, nothing really. It’s just the last few days of my senior year are just slipping away, and it should be a big deal, but it feels . . . I don’t know. Boring.” She looked around and leaned forward. “Apparently my parents think my problem is that I need help to get past the trau
ma of what happened. They’re making me see this stupid psychologist, Dr. Sherman.”

  My mouth went dry. That couldn’t be a coincidence. “Why?” My voice came out as a squeak, and I had to clear my throat and start again. “Why don’t your parents talk to you? Why make you see someone else?”

  Brit smiled. “You don’t have to look so serious. Seeing a counselor is no big deal—it’s not like I’ve got cancer or something.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “My parents can’t see me on a professional basis; it’s not ethical. Like I’d talk to them about anything real anyway.” She paused and I had the sense she wanted me to confess that I was seeing Dr. Sherman too, but there was no way for her to know. I couldn’t believe with all the times that Dr. Sherman had mentioned Brit, she knew that Brit was a patient too.

  “So . . . ,” Brit said, her voice trailing off. My foot was tapping out beats of six under the table. If she asked me directly about Dr. Sherman, what would I say? Itchy hives broke out on my chest. “So . . . do you think I’ve been acting weird since I’ve been back?” Brit asked.

  It took me a second to realize what she’d asked. Acting weird? She’d killed her best friend, faked her own death, and was now covering the whole thing up like nothing had happened. Weird wasn’t a big enough word to cover it. I bit the inside of my lower lip. “I guess a few times you’ve seemed on edge.”

  Brit sighed. “Maybe they’re right. Ever since . . . ever since I’ve been back, things have been hard. Some days I feel like I’ll start screaming with how dull things are.”

  “What about what happened today with Sara?” I asked. “That’s not dull.”

  “I did it, you know,” Brit said. I almost dropped my cup in shock. I never expected her to admit anything—maybe hint at responsibility, but I’d been sure she’d deny it. She laughed at my openmouthed expression. “Did you see the photo? It was brilliant.”