October Breezes

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  I slammed the door and whirled, coming face-to-face with Tyler as he leaned on the next locker. One of his hands formed a fist and he smacked it into his open palm. "I bet you wish you'd just gone out with me when I asked. Then none of this would have happened."

  I stepped back. "You'd stil be just as repulsive," I retorted.

  "Oh, realy." He stepped toward me.

  I flinched. “Stay away from me,” I seethed in a quiet whisper. I stepped back, putting distance between us.

  “Or you’l what, Skye?” Tyler smiled brightly. “The bruises are gone. So is any other evidence you could have used against me. Besides, nobody, not even your best friend, believes in you anymore.”

  “Hey, Skye!” another male voice caled. Jimmy headed toward me. “I need some help with my English homework, and I figured you were the person to ask.” He leveled his gaze at Tyler.

  “You through?”

  Shrugging, Tyler stepped back. “For now, I guess.”

  Jimmy looked at me. “Good. You mind folowing me to my locker?” As we walked, I felt Tyler's angry stare, and I knew he was biding his time until he could corner me again.

  “Not at al.” Relief flooded through me. As we walked the hals, I noticed Devin stood before his own locker with Bethany beside him. A sense of relief flooded hrough me as I realized Kelin hadn't pressed charges, alowing Devin's return. Although I tried not to stare, I couldn’t help myself. He must have felt the weight of my gaze as he peered in my direction, first at Jimmy and then me before dismissing us both.

  When Jimmy and I arrived at his locker, he grabbed his English book and closed the door. “I don’t realy need help. I don’t even have any homework, at least not in English, but I figured Tyler was harassing you.”

  My mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “The things I hear in the locker room, Skye.

  Trust me. He’s made you quite a hot topic.”

  I swalowed hard and cut my gaze to the floor. Sensing he had offended me, Jimmy squeezed my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, and if I thought that rearranging his face would make him a decent human being, I'd throw the first punch, but I think it would make him worse.”

  “He can get worse?” I blurted out.

  Jimmy laughed as Becca stepped in front of us. She ran her gaze from my head to my feet before turning her attention to Jimmy.

  “Hey, Jim, you slumming these days?”

  “No.” He shook his head, the smile never dimming. “If I were, I’d be dating you, Sweetheart.” He stroked her chin. Then she knocked his hand away.

  “Shut up!” she snapped, glaring at me while mouthing the words, “Welcome to your worse nightmare.”

  Jimmy stepped in between us. “Later, Becca." He glared until she stalked away. "Where's your class?” The first bel rang as he finished speaking.

  I pointed down the hal. “Just ahead.”

  He looked and my book and smiled. “Math. What a way to start the day. Seeing as how dating Kelin has made you so popular among such a nice crowd, I’l walk you.”

  “Tyler knew where I’d been this weekend,” I said in a low tone, conscious of the students passing us. I brushed the bangs from my eyes. “How do you think he figured it out?”

  He shrugged. "One of the cheerleaders probably saw us go into the clinic. It’s not exactly a secluded location, and they could have been driving past and seen us.”

  I gripped my books tightly to my chest. “I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

  Jimmy stopped in front of my class. “I volunteered, remember?”

  I finaly nodded. “Yeah. And thanks.”

  “No problem.” He walked away. I felt al the students staring at me as I headed toward my desk. On the way, one of the footbal players tripped me. As I tried to break my fal, al my books tumbled. Everyone laughed. As the tardy bel rang, I knelt to gather them. The jock leaned toward me, an evil smile spread across his face.

  "I'm having a party this weekend. You want to go?" He squeezed my shoulder.

  Horrified, I jerked away, finished colecting my books, and hurried to my desk.

  After that, the day went okay, until third period. Although I’d always enjoyed psychology, today I definitely could have lived without. Ms. Densmore had written “So what are the answers to teen pregnancy prevention?” on the board, and beneath the question, she’d written, "abstinence," "birth control," "abortion."

  The topic alone left me shaking, and I broke into a cold sweat. When I read the word “abortion,” the panic seized me.

  Around me, students chatted in opinionated tones as though they were impartial and yet knowledgeable. I tried ignoring them, but the whole room buzzed.

  “It’s murder. Any girl who has an abortion is a baby kiler.” Gail Lewis pushed her glasses higher on her nose.

  “It’s not even a baby yet,” Alex Kimbal argued, leaning back. “A fetus isn’t a baby.”

  “No,” Gail countered, “it just grows into one if nobody rips its body apart trying to get it out.” She glared at Alex, furious red splotches highlighting her cheeks.

  The tardy bel rang, and Ms. Densmore walked to the podium. “Wel, wel.” She stared at us. “We’ve already got a great discussion.” She faced the board. “So what is abortion anyway?”

  “It’s murder,” Gail said. “Pure and simple.”

  Ms. Densmore folded her arms across her chest and faced the class. “Anyone else?”

  “It’s birth control,” Steve Givens said, glancing around the room, trying to raly support from the other guys.

  I cringed. Although I’d never used those words, hadn’t I, too, defined it as such? The back of the chair caught my hair, yanking strands from my head. My face felt like it was on fire.

  Ms. Densmore seemed to notice as she turned to me and asked, “Okay, Skye. I can tel this topic hits a nerve. What do you think?”

  I tried to shrink in my seat as the whole class looked at me expectantly. Did Ms. Densmore know, too?

  “Skye?” she prompted. “How do you feel about abortion?”

  “It’s wrong!” I wanted to shout. “It’s murder!” That’s what I screamed inside, but then how could I live with myself if I believed that? How could I ever forgive myself or ask others to forgive me?

  “I don’t know,” I finaly managed, shifting in my seat. “I haven’t realy thought much about it.”

  From the back of the room, I heard laughter, and I whirled around to find Kaylee Johnson, another of Becca’s preening buddies, smirking.

  “What's so funny, Ms. Johnson?” Ms. Densmore glared at Kaylee.

  Kaylee immediately sat up straighter and shrugged. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Densmore. Becca told me a joke before class, and I just now got it. I think it’s the blonde in me. Sorry.”

  Ms. Densmore shook her head. “Try not to be so blonde and focus. This is serious.”

  Kaylee nodded. “You’re right. I know that some of us take it far more seriously than others. I'm sorry.”

  Ms. Densmore looked back at me. “You see, Skye has brought up something none of us want to admit. She’s not sure how she feels. Many people aren’t sure about how they feel about things because they don’t affect them. It’s not personal. But what happens when it becomes personal?”

  I looked around the room, grateful al the other students save Kaylee focused on Ms. Densmore. Kaylee, however, mouthed the word, “busted” before I turned away.

  The rest of the class dragged by as I watched the clock closely, desperate for the bel to ring. I lumped my books together and rushed to the door, anxious to escape.

  "What's the matter, Skye?” Kaylee whispered. “Something hit too close to home?”

  I stiffened but said nothing, hoping if I didn’t react, she’d leave me alone.

  “So are you a baby kiler? Is that why you were at the clinic?” she whispered. The students moved slowly, forcing me to remain. “Yeah, I’l just bet you are.”

  Finaly, I turned and glared at he
r. “Shut up!” I snapped.

  She smiled. “No need to get upset, Skye.”

  The students finaly ambled from the class, heading toward their next periods. Kaylee darted around me and met up with Becca. Although she whispered behind her hand, I knew what Kaylee told Becca. Nor did Becca bother to hide her pleasure. A wicked gleam sparkled in her eyes and she said, “Yes!” loudly.

  * * *

  By Thursday, I was sure the whole school knew. Becca tried to make sure of that, and I would’ve just played sick on Friday, but I knew Mom and Warren were supposed to fly out that morning. If Mom thought I was il, she’d reschedule their trip. The secretary would cal my mom’s cel number if I skipped, and that would definitely bring her home in a hurry. So there was nothing to be done except go to school. The next morning, Mom asked, “You sure you’re going to be okay while we’re gone?” Since she was going out of town, she made it a point to drive me to school. She backed out of the driveway. If it hadn’t been below ten degrees, I would have argued to walk.

  “I’l be fine.” I stared out the window.

  A school bus stopped before us, flashed its lights, and the driver opened the door to alow a handful of kids aboard.

  “I know things haven’t been realy great between you and Devin. You must miss him. Maybe if you give him some time, he’l come around.” She lifted her coffee mug and took a sip.

  I shook my head. “Mom, you think everybody can forgive anything, but it doesn’t work that way.” I swalowed hard, knowing Devin would never forgive me.

  She set the cup back in the holder. “You’re right. I do.

  Otherwise, what’s the point of living? Those who love you have to love you unconditionaly.”

  The bus turned off its flashing lights and lurched forward.

  In silence, we folowed it to the school. Before I got out, Mom grabbed my hand. “You have your house key, right?”

  I puled the chain around my neck and flashed the key.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Nodding, she said, “I love you, Skye.”

  “I love you, too. Have a great time.” I climbed out of her car and walked into the building, immediately noticing baby blue and white streamers and posters decorated the hals. For a second, I was puzzled. Then I remembered: homecoming week. Two cheerleaders in their uniforms sauntered past.

  Heading down the halway, I saw Tyler and Becca talking, but I quickly averted my gaze, and they seemed to take no notice.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I ambled to my locker. I opened the door and rifled through the books until I found my math text.

  “Skye?”

  At the sound of a male voice from behind, I jumped and grabbed the locker to steady myself. I whirled around to find Kelin standing there.

  I cringed, my heart rate doubling. “Wh..what are you doing here?”

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He fiddled with his keys, twisting the ring around his finger. “I came to talk to you.” He wore jeans and a light blue t-shirt, the same color as his pale eyes.

  Why wasn’t he wearing his footbal jersey?

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Becca moving toward me and I cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I closed my locker and headed the other way, wishing the past would stay buried.

  “Why?” Kelin asked, striding next to me. Becca hovered close behind, glaring at me, daring me to talk to him.

  I swalowed hard. “I just want to put al this behind me.”

  “I guess that includes me.” He slowly nodded. “I can understand that.” Then he turned and walked away, never realizing how closely Becca folowed.

  “Wise choice,” Becca said, stepping up to me. “He’s out of your league.” She stepped in my path.

  “Get out of my way.” I'd never thought about punching another human being in the face, but at that moment, I was sorely tempted.

  “Or what?” she asked in a saccarin sweet voice.

  “Before I rearrange a few things you might like as they are.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

  I shoved past her, bumping her shoulder as I went. “Take it any way you want to.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m so scared, Skye.”

  I walked away, furious. I knew if I let myself react with violence, she wouldn’t be walking. Stil, I managed to control myself. In fact, the rest of the morning passed without incident. Al hel broke loose in the afternoon.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After lunch, I noticed the sophomore halway was unusualy ful. Then again, I thought, perhaps band members were gearing up for the pep raly. I dismissed my fears, at least until I saw too many faces I’d rather not by my locker.

  Al the cheerleaders lined the hal, lounging against other lockers, seemingly waiting for me. I thought about turning around, but Becca waved broadly as she yeled, “Hey, Skye! Come join us!” After that, I knew I couldn’t leave, even though I desperately wanted to.

  Ignoring her, I strode toward my locker. I looked to the side where Devin chatted with Bethany. He must have felt my gaze, for he glanced at me, then back to Bethany. I waited for him to look at me, but he didn't. Then I ran into Tyler, my body bouncing off his until I started to fal. He grabbed my arms roughly where he'd bruised them before. “Hey, Skye!” he said, smiling brightly. “How’s it going?”

  I scurried from his touch. “Leave me alone.” I forced myself past him, averting my gaze as I tried to get to my locker.

  Once I’d arrived, I staggered backwards and whispered, “Oh, God.” Ketchup spattered my locker door. The words “Baby Kiler”

  ran down it, the red paint dripping like blood.

  Tyler burst in front of me and said, “Oh, my. What a mess. Here, let me open it for you.” I don’t know how he got the lock off, but it was gone. He grabbed the door, throwing it wide before darting out of the way. A landslide of red came at me.

  Bloodied, fleshy things hit my face and chest before spattering to the floor. Bloody, lifelike dols struck me. I stumbled, staring at the blood staining my hands. Al these people surrounded me.

  Becca asked, "Why did you kil your baby?”

  The faces closed around me. My vision dimmed. I shoved through the students and managed to get outside to the parking lot. I ran across the road, sobbing as I stumbled into a car’s path. The driver honked and got out, but I didn't stop. The run home blurred together until I darted up my front steps. I ripped the chain from my neck and tried jamming the key in the lock. My fingers trembled so badly I missed repeatedly. I finaly unlocked the door and threw it wide before locking myself in. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

  I franticaly paced the room. Trying to calm down, I sat on the couch and rocked back and forth, my whole body shaking. The phone rang, and I jumped. After four rings, the answering machine picked up.

  “Mrs. Wiliams, this is Ms. Darrow from West Martin High School. We need to speak to you. Please cal us back.”

  I stood and looked at the couch where I'd sat, noticing I’d smeared blood. “Oh God,” I whispered. “God.” I could hardly see through the tears as I raced into my bathroom. Staggering, I came face-to-face with a bloody reflection of myself. My white button-down shirt was stained.

  The baby. I'd kiled it.

  I kept remembering one bloody dol with a hanger around its neck. “What have I done?”

  The phone rang again. I listened. “Skye? It’s me, Devin.

  Pick up, please. I know you’re there.” He sounded panicked.

  Because of me. I’d upset him. I’d hurt him. I’d made him angry. I ran to the phone.

  “Devin?” I said, trying to make my voice normal, but the forced calm sounded worse. Stil, I couldn't keep the tremors from my voice.

  “Skye? You al right?”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I carried the receiver to Mom’s bathroom.

  “I tried to catch you, but I couldn’t get through. Is your mom at work?”

  I opened the medicine cabinet. “Yeah, she
’l be home soon.” I looked through the prescriptions stashed there, but my vision blurred too much and I brushed my hand across my eyes, wiping the red on my skin.

  “Why don’t I sit with you until she gets home?”

  I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “No, that’s okay. You’ve got better things to do than babysit ting. It was just a stupid joke.”

  “I don’t mind,” he argued. “That was anything but a joke.”

  I stifled a sob as I found a vial containing a valium pil. No point.

  “Skye?” Devin said, his tone a little more urgent. “Talk to me.”

  I kept searching her drug stash and knocked a few bottles into the sink. “I’m sorry for being a lousy friend. I’ve done things I wish I hadn’t. I almost got you suspended. It’s al my fault.”

  “My hot head almost got me suspended, not you," he insisted. "It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” I found a full vial of Toperal. “I’ve got to go, Devin. There’s another cal coming in.”

  “Skye, I’m coming over.”

  “No!” I snapped, jerking the lid off, spiling the pils. “If you’re my friend, you won’t come, not this time.”

  A long pause. “Al right. If that’s what you want.” He hung up and so did I. Then I franticaly knelt and gathered the pils, shoving them into my mouth. When the floor was clean of capsules, I leaned over the sink and turned on the water. Cupping my hands beneath the flow, I filed them and took a drink. Once I’d swalowed, I looked at the mirror, at the blood and broken promises my life had become. “No more.” I grabbed my mother’s silver hair brush and bashed the glass, shattering the mirror.

  The phone rang. I waited for the machine to pick up. This time it was Warren. “Skye? Are you there, honey? Both the school and Devin have caled. Your mom’s at the spa , or she would’ve caled. Skye, pick up the phone.”

  I grabbed the receiver. “Daddy!” I burst into tears.

  “Honey, it’s Warren. What’s happening ?” Even though his voice sounded calm, I knew he wasn't.

  I paced. “Remember when you asked what I thought about that book you gave me?”