New Girl

by Joan B. Flood

  “One thing I believe: you are a hypocrite. All that stuff you said to Corinne about Jack and doing stuff you don’t like sometimes for friends, that’s not what you do with me. You want me to tell you everything, but you tell me nothing. I’m just tired of it. And I’m tired of you treating me like I’m a moron. Yes, I helped Tommy. And yes, I’m glad he’s on the team. And yes, I believe he has left that world behind him. Unlike your brother Bart.”

  “Tommy Mack is the reason Bart is dealing. That’s your great hero there, ruining lives.”

  We were both angry now. For sure I was past all caution and ignored the set of Jane’s shoulders that warned me this wouldn’t end well.

  “Maybe he is the reason Bart started. I don’t know that, but I do know that he’s not the reason he keeps right on doing it. That’s down to Bart.”

  “Anything else you want to say?”

  We glared at each other, eyeball to eyeball almost. Before I could say anything, the bell rang. Jane gathered up her bag and stormed off. She tossed the newspaper in the trash and banged through the doors into the building.

  Corinne rolled her eyes when she heard that Jane and I were not speaking. She couldn’t figure out why we didn’t just talk to each other and work it out, like she and Jack did. Things were all cool between those two again. In fact, they seemed better than ever.

  “It takes two to talk,” I said, “and Jane won’t talk. Nothing I can do about that.”

  Corinne sighed.

  “True. You two keep knocking heads. How long will you keep it up is the real question.”

  That was the question I’d been wrestling with for what seemed like forever. When I thought of not seeing Jane at all, I got this deep physical ache in my chest. Yet being with her was like walking on the edge of a crumbly cliff without knowing how high up I was.

  “I think she’s really mad at me this time.”

  “So, how do you feel?”

  “I think I’m done with it all.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, that pain in my chest got bigger, but I also felt the rightness of it. Like some huge boulder in me had moved aside, and I could feel myself again. I’d be sad, but I would also be okay.

  “Wow. That’s big,” Corinne said.

  We said nothing for a while. We went toward the café, but when we got there, we walked on by. A few blocks later Corinne stopped and looked me right in the eye.

  “You okay?”

  I shrugged. Then said yeah. Then began to cry. Corinne hugged me for the longest time, and I bawled into her shoulder. Finally, I blew my nose and sniffled my tears away.

  “I’ll be okay. Really. I will.”

  She hugged me again. Then she waited with me until the bus came.

  At home, I changed and went for a run. Not able to face going out toward our field, I ran through the neighborhood. A small dog, no bigger than a raccoon, ran with me for a few blocks. Tongue lolling, it looked up at me every now and again. I wanted to kick it. It looked so happy. I was sorry when it turned back for its home.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Half of me wanted to beg Jane to make up, but the other half remembered that feeling of relief I’d had when I’d told Corinne I was done. The only thing that calmed me down that whole week was running.

  Not talking to Jane disrupted my social time with Corinne. Most days the three of us had hung out at lunchtime, and had a few words between classes when we could. I missed the banter and gossip we’d shared, but I wasn’t able to hang around Jane. Sometimes I spent half of break in the washroom to avoid the whole thing. Sometimes I did it because I didn’t want anyone to see me crying. After one of those times I’d been hiding in the washroom, I walked back down the almost empty corridor. My cell let me know a message had come in. Without thinking, I read it.

  think you’re so smart, but I know ur just a slut girl.

  Rage boiled up, and I hurled the phone at the wall. It hit, and then skittered across the floor. Someone put a hand on my arm.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  It took me a second to recognize Fern, the girl from the party.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just having a tantrum.”

  She picked up the phone and handed it to me.

  “Heh. Yeah. Everything okay? Want to go somewhere quiet a minute?”

  Surprised, I said yes. We fell into step together and headed toward the cafeteria. It was pretty quiet in there as almost everyone was outside catching sun. We found a spot near the back. Fern got us both a pop, and then asked if I wanted to talk.

  “You don’t have to, but, if you do…” she said.

  Her voice was kind. That’s what made me cry. Again. God, I was spending way too much time crying the last few days. She put her hand on my arm, just rested it there.

  “Oh, just a break-up,” I said, “you know how that is.” As if I knew something about bad breakups.

  “Yeah, it’s hard.”

  “And then I got another one of those horrible messages.”

  Shocked I said that out loud, I stopped crying, blew my nose, and wished I could take the words back.

  “From your ex?”

  “Oh, no, no. Look, forget I said that. Really.”

  She looked at me right in eye. Her gaze sent a zing of warmth through me. I looked away.

  “Hard to forget because it’s upset you so much.”

  She didn’t push it, just sat there, calm and kind. So I told her about the messages About how they began, and how they had changed. I even showed her the one I had just gotten. As she looked at it, I had this horrible thought that maybe she was the one who had sent it. I felt pretty agitated at that, and then remembered her gentleness, and the fact she had no reason to have my cell number. This whole thing was doing my head in. I had suspected everyone at some point. Except Corinne. I never suspected her, but just about everyone else, including Jane, which said something about how thoroughly fucked up I was.

  “That’s just gross! I guess you have no idea who’s doing it?”

  “None. That’s the problem. It could be anyone.”

  “It’s so terribly mean. But I know it happens. There are websites that spread rumors, post videos, and all sorts of things to make people miserable. It’s so sick.”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to know who’s doing it. See that’s why I put the sticker on my locker, and why I wear this button. It’s got nothing to do with being brave. I just thought if it was out in the open, the messages would stop.”

  “Oh, it’s still brave.”

  “It wasn’t really about that anyway, because the messages just changed. I just wish I knew who sent them.”

  We looked at the phone on the table as if it were going to tell us who the stalker was. Then I picked it up and put it back in my pocket.

  “Thanks. Please don’t say anything, okay? I haven’t told anyone else.”

  “Oh God, you’re dealing with it all on your own? That’s not good.”

  “Well, it’s what I want, okay? I’ll figure out who it is.”

  The bell rang and we stood up. Fern put her hand on my arm at the door. She pushed up my sleeve.

  “If you want to talk again, or anything, I’m here.”

  She wrote her phone number on my arm.

  “I mean it,” she said, and pulled my sleeve down. She gave a little wave and took off.

  Chapter Forty

  Tommy and I still went to the same track we’d chosen, even though our training wasn’t a secret anymore. I liked the time with him away from school, something just for us. I guessed he did too. Despite Jane’s doubts, I believed he was out of the drug thing. Unlike being with Jane, there was no tension with him. We talked about regular stuff: school, training, ordinary gossip, and sometimes we didn’t talk at all. Odd how close you could get to someone just by doing stuff you both liked. That was how it was for Tommy Mack and me.

  One day we talked about how I thought he was so calm.

  “Well, the worst has happened, Caro. Finding my dad, th
at was the worst. Nothing else seems terrible now.”

  “Yeah, but don’t things bother you, exams, stuff like that? Or trying to be different now about the drugs thing?”

  “Sometimes. Then I think, it’s just stuff, you know? It lasts for a while and it’s gone. That settles me down.”

  I told him Jane and I had split up. Funny how hard it was to say that.

  “Ah, sorry, Carly. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m sad, but okay.”

  He nodded once. That was it. I was glad not to talk about it anymore.

  Over the next few days I thought about what settled me down. Running for sure. Lately it seemed I was more settled all the time. Corinne was glad I was her friend, and Tommy liked me too. And Fern. Seemed like I felt more real. I wondered if Tommy ever felt real, or if measuring everything against finding his dad dead had taken something away from him. Something that kept him apart, like he couldn’t really be friends with anyone.

  Chapter Forty-One

  I missed the good stuff about Jane, and I missed the fun we had with Corinne, all three of us together. Losing that sucked. But the more time I spent away from the tensions with Jane, the less I wanted that back. It wouldn’t change. I knew that. When I really wanted to call her, I remembered that. Besides, I had to focus on the meet coming up, and I had to keep up my schoolwork too. The end of term and the last meet were so close together I knew I wouldn’t study much later. I gave up planning my birthday party in my head as well. Who would I ask? Corinne, Tommy, that was about it. Anyone else could be the person sending me those texts, and the idea of them being at my party creeped me out.

  On Wednesday, I took a walk through the town before heading home. It was one of those glorious late spring days, warm rather than hot, the baskets of primula all along the light posts of the downtown core swinging in a soft breeze. I walked just for the pleasure of it, not ready to head home and with nowhere in particular to go. I looked at the display in the second-hand store that Jane and I had loved to trawl for bargains. My heart jumped when I turned back to the street and spotted her a few blocks in front of me, her head rising and falling with that bouncy walk she had.

  I shadowed her for a couple of blocks, my heart banging and happy just to see her in spite of myself. Right outside The Red Carriage, where I’d first seen Tommy and Bart with their families, she met up with Miss Copperhead. I ducked into a doorway and hoped they wouldn’t head back my way. They didn’t. They hugged for a minute, and then took off together.

  I didn’t mean to follow them, but curiosity got the better of me. I kept a good distance between us. Jane’s bouncy walk made her easy to pick out. About six blocks later, they turned into a squat building with red windows that held a series of small businesses, including a tiny art gallery, a bead shop, a yoga studio, and who knew what else. I hung outside for a moment scared to go in, in case I ran into them. A tap on my shoulder made me jump clear off the ground.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you, uh, hi, I—can we talk a bit?” It was that weird Mick guy from school who glared at me across the cafeteria sometimes. He looked a bit more normal here on the street. In fact, he looked kind of scared or something.

  “Oh, you didn’t scare me.” That was a lie, but here on the street with people around I could pretend to be brave. “I just didn’t see you there.”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk? Just a minute?”

  It wasn’t everyday someone I hardly knew wanted to talk to me. Maybe Bart had started a trend.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  He shuffled his feet and stared at the ground, and then checked over each shoulder.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I said again.

  “Look, I—” He stopped speaking and looked around again. I felt sick. Maybe he was the one sending those horrible messages. Maybe he wanted to hurt me. I glanced around too. The street wasn’t really busy, not a lot of people, just enough to notice if anything went wrong here. I stepped out from the under the awning into the middle of the pavement. Mick stayed where he was.

  “I just want to explain, say sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry? For what? What are you sorry for?”

  “Look, I put that note on your locker. You know, the one about your dad. I’m sorry.”

  “You? You put the note on my locker? Why? Did you send all those horrible texts too? Was that you?”

  I tried to figure out if I had been mean to him in some way those early days at Astoria High, but I couldn’t even remember seeing him before he began to stare at me in the cafeteria.

  “Texts? What texts? I just put the note on your locker a while ago. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Look, I know it was mean. I just wanted to explain and say sorry. I was going through a really bad time.”

  His hands began to twist and dance, and I thought he might cry. My rage died down a bit and to tell the truth, now I felt more curious than afraid.

  “Okay, tell me.”

  He said his dad got laid off at the beginning of term. Even before my family came to Astoria.

  “Why did you blame me then?”

  “Well, I knew it wasn’t because of you. My dad drinks and he was drunk on the job one too many times. After he got laid off he was mean, and we were scratching for money. It got really ugly at home. I guess I just wanted someone to blame, and when I saw that article, I just lashed out at you. I know it was wrong. I was messed up. I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to say sorry for months. I’m really sorry.”

  “So what about the texts?”

  I was gob-smacked that the note came from something that had nothing at all to do with me or my family.

  “I know nothing about texts. Nothing. Honest.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pocket.

  “Okay, okay. Thanks for telling me. And for saying sorry.”

  He nodded a few times. His head went up and down so hard his hair lifted off his head and resettled, flopping over his forehead.

  “It’s fine. Really,” I said. And it was.

  The bus ride home went by in a flash. I was a bit freaked out that I had followed Jane and that Mick had sent me that note. All his stares and weird behavior were because he was getting up the nerve to say sorry! As the bus turned off the main street, I saw Bart slouch by outside. I couldn’t understand why, even though he creeped me out, his smile could still make my heart flip. But as Ryan said to me once, “If all bad guys were ugly and mean as mad dogs, we would have fewer problems because we could just avoid them.” My thoughts and emotions ran around like circus ponies and made me dizzy.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  I started with a spreadsheet. I hoped to find a pattern in the dates I got the texts, but there was none. Besides, I had deleted a lot of them and had to do it from memory. Next I added what I had been doing the few days before, then who I had spoken to. No way could I remember it all. Some of them clustered around dates with Jane, some around time with Bart, a couple around races, and the rest seemed random. It was hopeless. Just took a lot of time and told me nothing.

  Next I made a list of who I might want at my birthday party. It was still down to two definites, Corinne and Tommy. Maybe I could ask Fern, but I hardly knew her. Not much of a party with three. I wanted a big party, with lots of people and Mom and Dad not hanging around. I hoped to persuade Mom that Ryan could supervise, but it looked like I didn’t need anyone. In fact, it looked like I didn’t even need a party.

  Just before I could kick the wall Corinne texted me.

  What u doin? Been at the paper for hours. HELP!

  The newspaper office was a small room tucked in next to the gym. The office was untidy and smelled faintly of boy sweat, dust, and old socks. A small fridge in the corner was usually packed with plastic containers incubating mold. Mounds of back issues lay in piles against the walls, along with old sneakers, and abandoned hoodies.

  More than once I had suggested a garage sale to raise funds. I�
��d bet some of those clothes left were vintage.

  Corinne was proofing the paper when I got there. I put some text up on the second computer and began to read. About an hour later Kendra marched in, scanned the room, and stormed straight for Corinne.

  “You bitch, you absolute bitch.”

  We were so surprised, we both just sat there. Kendra tripped over an empty pizza box, and caught herself on the edge of the table that ran down the middle of the room.

  “Whoa, what’s going on?” I said.

  She straightened up and glared at me.

  “Keep out of it, you. It’s none of your business.”

  “What’s the matter, Kendra? What’s happened?” Corinne said.

  “As if you didn’t know. As if it wasn’t you who made Jack do it.”

  “Do what?” My voice squeaked the way it did when I got nervous.

  Corinne stood up, keeping the table between herself and Kendra. Kendra turned to me.

  “Carly, oh, sweet little Carly. I just bet you had something to do with it, too.”

  She dragged out the “a” in Carly the way everyone who has ever taunted me had done.

  “Look, Kendra, I’ve no idea what’s got you so mad. Tell me,” Corinne said.

  A deep flush rushed up Kendra’s chest and took over her neck and face until she was bright red. A vein throbbed over her right eye. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. She grabbed at a stack of printouts on the edge of the table and hurled them across the room.

  “It’s you. I know it is. You told Jack to break up with me. Couldn’t stand the competition, could you?”

  Spit flew out of her mouth as she yelled. Although I knew it wasn’t funny, I could feel a nervy giggle start in my belly. Corinne’s eyes popped.