by Greg Herren
“Maybe we should have forfeited the game,” Janis Newberry muttered darkly. Janis was a pretty sophomore, with shoulder-length dark hair and braces on her teeth. Laney had never liked her, but had to admit she had a point. Laney didn’t feel much like cheering, and the pep rally during last period had been a downer more than anything else. Two players had died and another was hospitalized.
“Don’t talk like that,” Candy admonished her.
“Whatevs,” Janis replied as the band started to march out onto the field. She made a face at both of them and flounced off, her pleated skirt bouncing as she joined some of her friends in the bleachers.
“I don’t really feel like cheering,” Laney admitted as the band started playing a really bad version of the Harry Potter movie theme. She sat down on the cheerleaders’ bench and dug into her purse for her brush.
“You didn’t have to.” Candy sat down next to her, placing a hand on one of Laney’s knees. “Everyone would have understood, you know.”
Laney bit her lip to keep from screaming. She was so sick of the looks, the murmurs, and the sympathy. She knew everyone thought she was being so brave, showing up for the game and cheering when she had to be so upset, so crushed.
She couldn’t admit to even her closest friends that she wasn’t, in fact, all that upset.
She couldn’t tell anyone that she’d broken up with Noah right before the accident. That what she was feeling, more than anything else, was guilt.
Definitely cursed, she thought again. Candy was murmuring what was almost certainly sympathetic words, but she tuned them out.
It had all started, she figured, when Laura’s parents were killed in that car accident. She bit her lower lip. When Laura moved away was when things started going haywire. First, Glenn decided he was gay, and then Laura’s boyfriend, Noah, started coming over a lot.
She still couldn’t completely accept that Glenn was gay. For one thing, they’d gotten pretty hot and heavy on their dates. She liked him—she liked him a lot, but she didn’t love him. He was a cute guy, with his glasses and wavy chestnut brown hair and the crooked smile. His nose looked a little squashed—he told her he’d broken it playing football when he was a freshman and it healed that way. He had big, expressive brown eyes and a crazy sense of humor that could always make her laugh. But she never loved him, and that was the problem. She liked being around him, they always had fun, but when he pressed her to go further in their make-out sessions she held back.
She’d made that mistake before, and she wasn’t going to make it again.
But without her lifelong best friend to talk to, she’d been lonely. When Laura moved away she felt like she’d had a leg amputated. She’d never realized how much time she’d spent with Laura.
And when Glenn came out, it was like being punched in the face.
She’d stared at the status update on Facebook in shock. Gay? He can’t be gay!
She’d automatically reached for her phone to call Laura—and then remembered Laura was off in the mountains in California, where her phone couldn’t get service.
Then the messages started coming.
Everyone, it seemed, wanted to know what she thought about Glenn’s big announcement. She didn’t know what to say to anyone, how to respond. She’d always talked about everything with Laura—and Laura was gone. Her older sister, Mallory, home for the summer from Wichita State, was absolutely no help at all.
“How could you not know?” she’d sneered at her at the dinner table.
“Now, Mallory—” her mother had started, but Mallory cut her off.
“Come on, Mom, you and Dad can be expected not to notice but she dated him, so you know they probably at least kissed and got to second base—”
“Shut up!” she’d screamed, pushing her chair back from the table, her cheeks on fire with shame and embarrassment and anger. “Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”
She’d run out of the kitchen, out onto the front porch of the house, humiliated and embarrassed. Mallory had turned into quite a bitch in Wichita—but they’d never been close the way sisters were supposed to be anyway. And as she sat in the porch swing, she couldn’t stop the tears coming. Mallory was just saying what everyone was thinking but wouldn’t say to her.
How could you not know?
She hadn’t, though. She’d had no idea Glenn was gay. She sat there, in the swing, crying and remembering everything, going over every time they were together in her mind, trying to see if there was any clue.
She couldn’t remember one.
Maybe if I’d slept with him—
But she wouldn’t go down that path.
And it was Noah who came to her rescue.
He’d driven up in his truck, sat down on the porch with her, put his arm around her, and held her while she cried. He was so kind, so sweet, so understanding. “Shh,” he’d said, kissing the top of her head while she cried. “It’ll be okay, honey, it’ll be fine, you just wait and see, it’ll get better.”
She’d never seen this side of Noah before. Sure, he’d been going steady with her best friend since they were all freshmen, but she’d never gotten close to him. He was Laura’s boyfriend and a part of her life because of that, but that was about all. Now she could see why Laura loved him so much—and Laura’s leaving had torn him up inside. “Get me out of here,” she said. “Take me for a drive or something.”
They’d driven out to Lake Kahola, but not to the swimming hole where everyone always went. He drove around the lake, stopping in a secluded spot where there was no beach, where an abandoned-looking cabin’s lawn ran all the way down to the water’s edge. There was a weatherbeaten dock jutting out into the brown water, and they walked out to its end, sitting down and dangling their feet over the water. He put his arm around her when she started crying again. She’d felt stupid, but it had been bottled up inside for so long—her pain at Laura’s leaving, her loneliness, this shocking news about Glenn—that she couldn’t hold it in anymore. He started kissing her and she let him, and one thing led to another, and afterward, she felt so dirty and debased and ashamed that she thought about slipping into the water and sinking down to the bottom and never coming up again.
It was wrong, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop herself.
Somehow Laura found out and sent her a blistering e-mail that practically set her computer screen on fire. She tried calling, sent e-mails, texts—but Laura never answered.
And she hated herself just a little bit more.
She knew she shouldn’t keep seeing Noah, but it was easier to just go along with it. She avoided everyone else. She dreaded the start of school, when she would have to show up and be around people who judged her for sleeping with her best friend’s boyfriend, people like her sister who thought she should have known her ex-boyfriend had been gay all along, mean people who joked that she’d done something to turn him gay.
But once the novelty of it, the hurt, wore off, she found she didn’t care that he was. She liked him, cared about him, wanted him to be happy. She worried about him, wondered if he was okay. If people were being that nasty about her, she could only imagine how nasty they were being to him.
And if Noah was any indication, it was pretty bad.
Noah’s tirades about Glenn grew worse once football practice started. He thought Glenn should be kicked off the team, not allowed to shower with the rest of the players, be expelled from school. His words were ugly and hateful, and it was a side of him she didn’t like, couldn’t understand. How could he be so kind and thoughtful with her when he had all this dark ugliness and hate coiled up inside?
And then came that horrible night at Linda’s party.
It was not one of Linda Avery’s better parties. The great thing about Linda Avery’s parties was the booze. Linda’s parents were very liberal and figured it was better to allow teenagers to have booze in a controlled environment than to forbid it, have them sneak it in and get smashed. Linda’s parents would also drive anyone home who appear
ed to have too much to drink, or let them sack out in the barn. It was a nice arrangement, and all the teenagers kept it secret from their parents. Why mess with a good thing?
But this night was different. Linda’s parents were out of town, for one thing, so there weren’t any adults around to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.
And there was something wrong with the atmosphere at that party from the moment they had arrived. Laney sensed it as soon as soon as she got out of Noah’s truck. There wasn’t as much talking and laughter, but she just dismissed it at first as a by-product of losing the game the night before. Noah hadn’t really spoken to her much after he had picked her up—in fact, the cab of his truck had been completely silent on the way to the Avery place. It was weird, and she couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Noah had sensed she was ready to break up with him, but she dismissed that. Noah wasn’t that sensitive—if he were, he would have let off on all the nasty hate he spewed to her about Glenn. Once they got to the pool area, where the party was, Noah went to get them both a beer. She just wandered around, talking to friends, trying to figure out what was wrong with the party mood.
Finally, Sharon Farmer, another senior on the cheerleading squad with her, clued her in, in a hushed whisper.
“Linda and Tom broke up about ten minutes before you got here,” Sharon whispered, tossing her short brown hair, her eyes narrowed. “They had a huge, hairy, ugly fight. Linda’s still crying—she went into the house.”
“They broke up?” Laney was incredulous. Linda Avery and Tom Crenshaw had been going steady since seventh grade. They were an institution at Southern Heights. Everyone just assumed they’d get married after graduation.
“Tom’s been cheating on her with that freshman slut, Brenda Wilson.” Sharon glanced around to see if anyone could hear her before continuing. “Linda caught them in the barn, if you can imagine that.”
“Oh my God!” Laney was horrified.
“Needless to say, they had a huge fight—it was really ugly, believe you me. And then Tom left with Brenda. Can you believe it?”
“Poor Linda!” Laney sighed. Maybe it’s the night for breaking up, she thought to herself.
“So, did you see that girl with Glenn Lockhart at Vista last night?” Sharon asked, the innocent look on her face belying the malice in her tone. “Wasn’t she just too beautiful? Who was she?”
“I—” Laney bit her tongue. Sharon couldn’t be trusted—the joke around school was telephone, telegram, tell Sharon. So instead, she just smiled. “Oh, I met her. Her name’s Sara Sterling, she just moved here and will be starting school Monday.” She shrugged, hoping she seemed more nonchalant than she felt. “She seems nice.”
“Do you think Glenn’s going to go out with her?” Sharon’s blue eyes gleamed. “Maybe he’s a switch hitter?”
It took all of her self-control not to say something snotty, but she didn’t want to give Sharon that satisfaction. “I’m quite sure I don’t know. It’s really none of my business, is it?” She saw Noah heading toward her, carrying two cans of beer. “Oh, there’s Noah. If you’ll excuse me? I’ll talk to you later.” She walked away, boiling inside. Noah stopped by the diving board, waiting for her to catch up to him. She took her beer from him. “Thanks. Did you hear about Tom and Linda?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Never could figure what Tom saw in her anyway. That Brenda Wilson is a nice-looking girl, though.”
“She’s a freshman,” she replied, taking a sip of her beer and inwardly shaking her head. How typical, she thought. Forget the fact that Linda’s gone out with the bastard for five years—as long as the new bimbo’s cute enough, who cares? Boys are such assholes. She wanted to slap him senseless. I’ve got to break up with him, she thought. I don’t even like him that much as a friend. I can’t believe I ever let myself get involved with him. Whatever did Laura see in him?
The night went downhill from there. Linda eventually emerged from the house and put on a brave face. Laney felt sorry for her and made an extra effort to be nice to her. But there was no saving the party. More kids showed up, and Linda put some music on for dancing. No one wanted to dance, but some of the kids were getting drunk—too drunk. Laney wanted to leave, but every time she mentioned it to Noah, he put her off.
It was around eleven thirty when he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her around the side of the house.
“That was rude—I was talking to them!” She yanked her arm away from him. “Jesus, Noah, what’s wrong with you?”
He pushed her up against the house and started kissing her. She tried pushing him off but he was too heavy, too strong for her. She squirmed and twisted, trying to keep her head turned away from him.
Just when she was about to scream, he stepped back from her.
“What’s wrong with me?” he sneered at her. “What’s wrong with you, Laney? Suddenly I’m not good enough for you anymore, is that it?”
She was so shocked she just stared at him.
“Just get off your high horse already. It’s not like I was your first.”
“I—” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Where was this coming from?
“I know you slept with Tony Martin when we were sophomores,” he went on. “Who else? Did you let Glenn?”
She just stared at him, unable to think of anything to say.
He stared at her. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This party sucks.” He moved away, and stopped. He looked back at her. “You coming or not?”
The big blow-up, though, had come on the ride home.
He went into a tirade in the truck about Glenn as left the party. She hadn’t thought he’d been that drunk; she’d only seen him nurse a single can of beer all night, otherwise she would have never let him drive.
She finally cut him off. “What is wrong with you? You’ve changed. You’ve been acting weird ever since school started.”
“You think it’s cool that they let a fag in the showers with the rest of us?” He’d sneered back at her. “Looking at us all—naked and wet and…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and then he launched back into his tirade.
“I don’t want to hear this anymore,” she’d said as the truck sped through the night. “It’s ugly and I want no part of it.” She let out her breath. “And I don’t think we should see each other anymore. We’re done.”
That stopped him dead in his tracks.
In one second he went from raging anger to desperation.
He’d begged and pleaded with her to change her mind, give him another chance, but she refused. And when they’d reached her driveway, she’d gotten out of the truck and slammed the door, storming off to her house, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt so much better. She went into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, feeling alive for the first time in she didn’t know how long. She’d plopped down on her bed, deciding she was going to call Glenn the next day, make amends. The shock had worn off and she didn’t care—she wanted him to be happy and she would stand by him.
“I should have done that when they painted his locker,” she said to the ceiling. Noah hadn’t admitted to it, but she was sure he was involved—she’d seen a can of black spray paint in the cab of his truck but hadn’t said anything to anyone.
She was ashamed of that. She was ashamed of so many things. But she could make amends, make things better, make things right—not just with Glenn but with Laura, too.
Little did she know that while she lay there on her bed making her plans, Noah had rolled his truck and died. Less than ten minutes after dropping her off at home, he’d been crushed to death.
She hadn’t told anyone about the breakup, and it was eating her up inside. The guilt of wondering if his death had been her fault, if maybe if she hadn’t broken up with him that night he wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly. She hadn’t told the county sheriff when he came by to question her. Everyone just assumed he’d gotten drunk at the party, and she knew that some peo
ple blamed her for letting him drive drunk. The funeral had been a nightmare. The Greenes were so nice to her, wanted her to sit with them—the whole thing had been torture.
“Noah would want you here, I’m sure he knows and is happy you’re here with us,” Mrs. Greene had said to her, squeezing her hand. Mrs. Greene was enormous, with graying black hair and her chin disappearing into the roll of fat underneath it. Laney couldn’t tell the Greenes she’d broken up with him right before he died. So she sat there with his family during the service, his mother constantly squeezing her hand, squirming inside with guilt and fear.
That was where the dreams came from, she reminded herself again. From the guilt.
The band was now playing a badly out-of-tune rendition of a song she couldn’t recognize. Candy was still talking and holding her hand. She gave Candy a big smile. “Thanks,” she said, interrupting her and standing up. She smoothed her sweater down. “I think I’m going to get a Coke.”
“Okay. You want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m good.” She slung the strap of her big purse over her shoulder and walked away down the track.
She passed groups of people, nodding and smiling as she walked. Let ’em judge me for being here, she thought, I don’t care anymore.
The concession stand was right under the scoreboard, and there wasn’t a line. She got a Coke and paid for it, nodding and smiling politely to Terry Miller, the junior girl working the window. She didn’t like Terry—she was a nasty gossip and a Jesus freak to boot—and she’d said some horrible things about Glenn. She wanted to reach into the window and slap the snot out of her, but refrained. She knew as she walked away Terry would start talking about her. She walked back down the track. Candy was still sitting on the bench, joined by some of the other cheerleaders.
She sat down next to her and asked, “Did you get to see Tony today?”
