Tease

by Amanda Maciel

  “And you’d write to Kurt Cobain?” Carmichael asks.

  “Maybe,” he says. “Or, like, maybe, I don’t know . . .” He gives me kind of a sideways glance and shrugs again. “Maybe, like, Emma Putnam.”

  My stomach does a little flip. But just a little one. I stare at my brother for a second, and I can see he’s holding his breath, a little scared of what I might say.

  “Well,” I say, “I sort of already did write a letter to Emma.”

  Tommy looks back at the table in front of him and shrugs. “I just mean, you know—”

  “Wait,” I say. “That actually gives me an idea.”

  He looks back up. “An idea for the essay?”

  “Well, no—I mean, maybe, yeah, I think I have someone I could write to. But what if—” I pull the laptop back to my side of the table and open it, starting a new Google search. “I’ve just been thinking a lot about, like, what if there was something I could do that might actually help Emma? Or not Emma, exactly, but people—people in a similar situation?”

  I bite my lip and look at my brother and Carmichael, suddenly self-conscious. I haven’t said this out loud before, and they’re both studying me pretty closely, waiting for what I’m going to say next. I’m not really sure yet, but it’s true—we were in court a month ago, and afterward the papers all printed our statements and I made the mistake of reading the articles online . . . and the comments. People were not happy at all. Apparently making plea agreements wasn’t punishment enough, and I guess no matter how sorry I am, people still hate me.

  I know I can’t be sorry enough. But I can’t go back in time, either. Mom says I have my whole life ahead of me, and that I deserve a chance to make something of it. Technically I think she’s right, but some days my “whole life” feels too long. That’s a lot of time to feel like it’s too late to fix the past.

  But maybe I don’t have to just hide, just wait for people to change their minds or give me a second chance. Maybe I don’t even have to apologize to everyone or explain myself. Maybe I can try to do something good.

  “What if I started a website where people could write to people, like this essay, people they might not be able to talk to in real life? Does that sound dumb?” I ask Tommy.

  “No,” he says. “What kind of site?”

  “I mean, maybe someone’s gone but you want to apologize to them, or you just have something you need to say,” I go on. Tommy nods. “Or maybe someone who’s still around, but you’re too embarrassed to talk to them in person.”

  “Like the opposite of Facebook,” he says.

  Carmichael laughs, and so do I.

  “Right,” I say. “You’d say nice things. But anonymously, maybe. If you wanted to.”

  It feels kind of cheesy, but the idea makes me excited. Maybe there are other people like me, people who said all the wrong things and just want a chance to apologize, or to try to apologize. Or just to say something—but maybe it’s too late for them.

  Even when it’s not too late, sometimes it’s really hard to admit that you’ve been bad to someone. That you’ve said bad things. Been a bully.

  “Then what about your essay?” Tommy asks.

  “I have an idea for that, too,” I tell him. “Don’t worry.”

  At the front of the house, the garage door starts rumbling open. Tommy jumps up; the sound means our mom is home with Alex, and he wants to get to the video games first. Alone at the table again, Carmichael and I look at each other.

  “I was thinking maybe I’d write to Brielle,” I say quietly.

  Carmichael reaches across the table, past the application form and the laptop, and holds my hand. “Is she really not coming back to school?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “And you miss her.”

  I look down at our hands. Carmichael’s is covered in dark ink, doodles from being bored in class that haven’t worn off. But they’re proof that he goes to class now. He doesn’t skip. He won’t be in summer school—he’ll graduate, with me. He’ll go to UNL with me too, maybe. Hopefully.

  “I did,” I say. “This summer and everything—I missed her a lot. It’s like . . . sometimes it’s like it was Brielle who died, you know?” I hold my breath. It feels like a terrible thing to even say, to even think. But now that I’ve said it I realize it’s true, that’s how I feel.

  We’re allowed to talk to each other now, but we don’t. It took me all summer and half of the fall to notice that I feel better when I’m not around Brielle Greggs. I was someone with her, I guess—I was popular, or close enough to it. But I was toxic. We were toxic. We hated on everyone. I don’t think she even liked Dylan. She gave everyone a mean nickname—everyone was a loser if they weren’t someone she needed or wanted to be with right then. Even toward the end of last year, she only wanted to hang out with Noelle, and she barely even talked to me except when we were going after Emma.

  I thought I needed Brielle. It was definitely better to be her friend than her enemy. Because those were the only two choices.

  And since that day in court, she hasn’t even texted me. So I figure, maybe it’s for the best that it’s over.

  But still. She was my friend for a long time. I know she’s lonely, deep down. I know she needs people. I know she lashes out because that’s what she does. I know her pretty well, actually, and I do miss her. But I can’t talk to her anymore.

  I’m still looking down at the table, at the line where the laptop intersects the grain of the wood, but I can feel Carmichael’s eyes on me. His hand on mine. Mom and Alex are banging into the house now, and Carmichael gives my hand one last squeeze before letting go and sitting back in his chair again.

  “Hello?” Mom calls. She comes into the kitchen and sees us, sees Tommy in the den with the TV on. “Oh, good, everyone’s here,” she says. “We’re having tacos! You know what that means!”

  I groan, but I get up and help her unload the groceries she’s carrying. Tacos means I’m cooking—because they require practically no cooking at all. Mom’s actually making good on her promise to spend more family time, though I gotta say, spending every Saturday night learning to steam broccoli or not burn rice is already getting a little old. But tacos are easy, at least. And you can put lots of cheese on them.

  Mom smiles at me, tossing some avocados on the counter. She smiles more now, I think. Maybe we all do.

  “Can I help?” Carmichael asks. “I can make guacamole.”

  “Excellent!” says Mom. “Yes, I will get you a knife and a bowl, and let’s see . . .”

  I open the package of hamburger and get out a skillet. In a minute the kitchen is filling up with the smell of the meat. Mom is asking Carmichael about his essay, and he tells her he’s writing about a BMX race where he took a really bad fall but finished anyway. She tells him it sounds perfect. Tommy comes back in and washes the lettuce, I think just so he can spend more time around Carmichael. I cut up a tomato and line up bowls on the counter: tomato, lettuce, salsa, shredded cheese, black olives.

  In my head, though, I’m thinking about my letter.

  Dear Brielle, What were we so mad about?

  Was I a terrible friend?

  Were you?

  Dear Brielle, I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry.

  Finally Alex feels left out enough to come in and set the table. I hand him the liter of soda Mom’s letting us have—only because it’s Saturday—and he gleefully starts shaking it up. “Hey!” Tommy and I yell at the same time. Alex is still grinning, but he stops. He puts the bottle on the table and comes back for the bowls of taco toppings, transferring them two at a time.

  “Can I put peanut butter on mine?” he asks.

  “Gross,” Tommy declares.

  “You don’t know,” Alex says. “Maybe it’s good! You never tried it.”

  “I do know,” Tommy tells him. “It’s gross.”

  “Okay, guys, let’s sit down,” Mom says. She pours herself a glass of wine and lifts it, smiling at me. “
You’ll drive them to the ER when they get sick on peanut butter tacos, right?”

  “Yep,” I say. “You can drink the whole bottle if you want. I got this.”

  Tommy rolls his eyes, embarrassed, but by then we’re all fighting over the shredded cheese and the olives, overstuffing our taco shells, making loud crunching noises as we start to eat.

  For a minute I just look around the table. It’s not, like, the perfect American family or anything, I know that. It’s not what I thought I’d be doing on a Saturday night my senior year. It’s pretty boring, definitely.

  But I take a deep breath and smile. I take another breath. And another.

  I just keep breathing.

  Dear Brielle,

  You were a good friend to me. You taught me how to be tough. You taught me to stick up for myself. You thought I was pretty, that I deserved a boyfriend and friends and parties and cute clothes. You made me laugh.

  But I wasn’t a good friend to you. I didn’t know how to help you. I didn’t know how to stop all the stuff we did to Emma. I should have said it was wrong. It felt wrong, but it felt good, too, to be angry and hateful and mean. But maybe there could’ve been another way. There must’ve been another way.

  I miss you. I wish we hadn’t grown apart. I wish you were at school. But wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. I think I might be happy. I’m working on it, anyway.

  Stay strong.

  Love,

  Sara

  Dear Emma,

  I’ll spend the rest of my life being sorry. But I’ll also be more careful. I won’t assume that everyone is strong. I won’t assume I know everything about someone just by how they act. I’ll try to remember, so that maybe someday I’ll feel like I deserve your forgiveness.

  Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. And feeling stronger.

  Love,

  Sara

  Acknowledgments

  SO MANY PEOPLE helped me through the process of writing this book, and I will be forever grateful. Thanks especially to Rebecca Mazur, Erica Jensen, Devi Pillai, and Abby McAden for being amazing friends and career counselors for many, many years. To my fellow writers in PSCWW, thank you for the much-needed deadlines and the excellent notes.

  There aren’t enough superlatives to describe my agent, Holly Root, and my editor, Donna Bray, so I’ll just say: Wow. It is a true honor to work with you. And I am grateful to everyone at Waxman Leavell Literary, HarperCollins Children’s Books, and Balzer + Bray for bringing this book to life.

  To my mom: It’s not an exaggeration when I say you’re the best mom in the history of anything, ever, and I love you more than even makes sense.

  And to Andy and Calvin, what can I say? You’ve made my dreams come true.

  Author’s Note

  This book is entirely a work of fiction, but it was inspired, unfortunately, by true stories—and one in particular.

  In January 2010, a young student at South Hadley High School tragically took her own life. I went to college in South Hadley, and a dear friend of mine works at the high school, so the event was particularly upsetting—though of course even more so for the families in that small community, who quickly saw their lives turned upside down by a precedent-setting lawsuit against six other students at South Hadley High, accused of bullying and harassing the girl who killed herself.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the girls on both sides of this story. And I couldn’t stop thinking that, no matter what the accused bullies had done, surely they couldn’t have intended for anyone to lose her life—surely no one is that vicious. But we do all have our moments, and our limits. We’ve each felt deeply hurt by the actions of others; we’ve said things we regret.

  It made me incredibly sad—and still does—that the kids in these stories are kids. As a teenager you’re so close to being an adult, and in many ways you have all the responsibilities of one. But you also—or you’re supposed to—have your whole life ahead of you too. It’s the time we try new things and make mistakes. It’s the time we get deeply hurt, say hurtful things, and learn to apologize. It’s the incredibly crucial time when we learn that other people are also hurting, are also victims. We learn that life is complicated, and our version of the story isn’t the only version.

  I wish we had better tools to deal with bullying. I certainly don’t know what the answer is, and I know the problem grows more complicated as our methods of communication grow vaster and more unwieldy. But it seems to me that there’s always more to the story—at least two sides, if not four or seven or one hundred. And I believe that everyone deserves to be heard.

  Other Resources

  Sticks and Stones: Defeating the Culture of Bullying and Rediscovering the Power of Character and Empathy

  by Emily Bazelon

  A comprehensive, thought-provoking exploration into the many facets of bullying in schools, through the stories of three young people.

  Wouldhavesaid.com

  A website that gives people a chance to express something important to family and friends who have passed away or with whom they have lost contact.

  Dear Bully: Seventy Authors Tell Their Stories

  edited by Megan Kelley Hall and Carrie Jones

  Seventy YA authors share honest and personal accounts of their own experiences with bullying—their role as the silent witness, victim, and culprit.

  “I Choose” Anti-Bullying Campaign

  http://whatdoyouchoose.org

  Powered by yoursphere.com, “I Choose” is a social media campaign that encourages young adults to recognize that bullying is a choice. The site shares stories and videos from real-life teens about their personal experiences with bullies.

  Striving to Reduce Youth Violence Everywhere (STRYVE)

  http://vetoviolence.cdc.gov/stryve/

  STRYVE, a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) initiative, aims to prevent youth violence between the ages of ten and twenty-four. STRYVE Online is a resource for families, communities, and individuals that provides videos, experts, and other forms of guidance to help promote youth violence prevention techniques.

  PACER Center’s Teens Against Bullying

  www.pacerteensagainstbullying.org

  A program coordinated by the National Bullying Prevention Center created to help teens learn about bullying, how to respond to it, and how to stop it.

  DoSomething.org

  A nonprofit organization that centers on young people, ages thirteen to twenty-five, who are determined to make social change happen. The bullying and violence campaign provides resources and encourages awareness about cyberbullying, child abuse, verbal harassment, among many other causes.

  Bully

  A 2011 film directed by Lee Hirsch that follows the lives of five students troubled by bullying. The film promotes the anti-bullying movement, inspired by the director’s own experiences.

  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

  The lifeline is a national network of local crisis centers that provides twenty-four-hour, toll-free, confidential crisis counseling and mental health referrals. 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

  About the Author

  Photo by Abby McAden

  AMANDA MACIEL has worked in book publishing since graduating from Mount Holyoke College and is currently a senior editor at Scholastic. She spends her free time writing, running, or riding the subway with her young son. She lives with him, her husband, and their cat, Ruby, in Brooklyn, New York. Tease is her first novel.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.

  Credits

  Cover art and design © 2014 by Erin Fitzsimmons

  Copyright

  Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

  TEASE. Copyright © 2014 by Amanda Maciel. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book
on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or here in after invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.epicreads.com

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Maciel, Amanda.

  Tease / Amanda Maciel. — First edition.

  pages cm

  Summary: “A teenage girl faces criminal charges for bullying after a classmate commits suicide”— Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-06-230530-5 (hardback)

  EPub Edition March 2014 ISBN 9780062305329

  [1. Bullying—Fiction. 2. High schools—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M1853Te 2014

  2013043067

  [Fic]—dc23

  CIP

  AC

  * * *

  14 15 16 17 18 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FIRST EDITION

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