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Poison Ink

Page 12

by Christopher Golden


  Then someone cursed her out for blocking the bottom of the stairs, forcing her to start walking. Somehow she found the right bus and climbed on. She sat in the first empty seat and hugged her backpack to her chest, so lost in thought that she nearly missed her stop.

  Her life truly had become a nightmare. Her friends had been cool and funny and sweet; they’d been decent human beings. Now they were the nastiest bitches she had ever seen. It all seemed so impossible, but she could not deny what her own eyes and ears told her.

  Everything had been poisoned, and the poison was spreading.

  Later she would realize how naïve she’d been, but by Friday afternoon—when Las Reinas had still made no attempt at violent payback against Letty and Caryn—Sammi let herself exhale. Either Rafe had interceded and gotten Marisol to back off, or Letty had somehow made amends.

  Of greater concern to Sammi was the situation with T.Q. She’d struggled with the decision, but in the end she knew she wouldn’t report what T.Q. had said to her. Maybe Coach Kelleher had been seduced into sleeping with her, but the end result was the same—he’d had sex with a girl who was underage, a student. Manipulated or not, that was just wrong. If he lost his job, it was no more than he deserved.

  T.Q. deserved to pay for what she’d done, too. She’d set the coach up and ruined his life with a kind of cold calculation that Sammi would never have imagined the girl capable of. But what could she do? If Sammi went to the principal, it would be her word against T.Q.’s, and chances were good she wouldn’t even be disciplined. The coach had crossed the line, and no matter what Sammi said, the adult world would never see T.Q. as responsible.

  But they hadn’t seen her face, or heard the glee in her voice. It made Sammi shudder just to think about it.

  As Friday afternoon wore on, she thought she might feel like hiding, just burying herself under her covers and hibernating there for the weekend. But she had managed to avoid all but the most tangential contact with the girls on Friday, and once the final bell rang, she felt a tremendous weight lifted off her shoulders.

  Tomorrow night she’d see Adam.

  Tonight she’d go with Anna Dubrowski to the basketball game. It would be nice to spend a little time around a bunch of guys and girls who were normal. Maybe her cousin Zak would bring Anna’s sister Rachael, if they could be convinced to hang around with high school kids for a night.

  On the way out to her bus, Sammi kept her eyes on the ground. Whatever the girls might be up to today, she didn’t feel like bearing witness to it. No more. For the first time all week, she rode home without closing her eyes.

  The day had started with clouds, but now the sky had cleared to a brilliant, crystal blue. As she walked from the corner where the bus dropped her off, a crisp, cool breeze made her shiver, yet she did not mind at all. She had a lightweight brown leather jacket to wear tonight. Sammi had never minded the autumn, even when it came early. In many ways it was her favorite season, beautiful and contemplative.

  At home she dumped her book bag, forgetting about the research she had to start for a history paper, and went for her guitar. For more than an hour she sat in her room and played, alternately rocking out and slowing the music down for something sweet. “Summer Girl” sounded perfect, now, but she decided that as much as she loved the song, it might be time for “Autumn Girl” instead.

  The thought ignited her imagination. She could do a quartet of songs, Sammi Holland’s own “Four Seasons.” Almost instantly a new melody came to her and she hummed a little, searching with her fingers along the frets for the notes to make it come to life. A smile touched her lips as she played, purging herself of all the ugliness of the past week.

  By the time she had the basics of the tune worked out and looked up from her guitar, the clock read 4:27. Sammi blinked, staring at it. Some of her good feeling fled instantly as she thought about seeing her parents. Her father wouldn’t be home until at least seven o’clock, but her mother would be coming through the door in an hour.

  She tossed aside her guitar pick and unfolded herself from the plush chair she’d been lounging in to prop her instrument on the stand in the corner of the bedroom. Sammi peeled off the shirt she’d worn to school and stepped out of her pants. With her cell phone in hand she went across the hall to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hiss of the water against the tiles soothed her.

  Flipping open her cell, she called Anna Dubrowski.

  “Sammi? What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re bailing.”

  “The opposite, actually. I feel like getting out of here. Any interest in meeting up early? We could go to the Sampan first.”

  “Totally,” Anna said. “I was just talking to Rachael and Zak about hooking up first. My parents aren’t going to be home anyway. Rachael’s driving. We were talking about pizza, but I’d much rather have Chinese. The Sampan sounds perfect. I’m sure I can convince them. Want us to swing by and get you first?”

  Steam started to rise behind the opaque glass door of the shower. “What time, do you think? I’d kinda like to be out of here before my mother comes home from work. That way I can just leave her a note and not get an argument about it.”

  “Let me call Rachael and I’ll call you right back.”

  “Thanks.”

  She closed the phone and set it on the shelf next to the sink, then removed her bra and underwear and slipped into the shower. The hot water prickled her skin and sluiced down her body. It felt incredible, and she could have stayed under the stream for an hour. Instead she quickly washed her body and face, careful not to get her hair wet because she didn’t have time to blow it dry. Her legs needed shaving, but she hadn’t planned on wearing a skirt tonight anyway.

  Once out of the shower she brushed her hair and then tied it back into a ponytail with a rubber band. With a facecloth she wiped condensation off the mirror and started putting on eyeliner.

  Her cell phone rang. She snatched it up and flipped it open. On reflex, she checked to see who was calling and then was glad she had. The screen said Mom. Sammi let the call go into her voice mail. Before she could put the phone down her ring tone played again, but this time it was Anna.

  “Hey,” she answered.

  “Hey. Rachael says she’ll swing by and get you first. Fifteen minutes?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Eyeliner would have to do. Naked, Sammi peeked out into the hall to make sure no one had come home unexpectedly and then rushed across to her bedroom clutching her cell phone. She tossed it on the bed and quickly dressed in rust-colored jeans, a green long-sleeved top, and sandals. From her jewelry box stash she peeled off three twenty-dollar bills, and then she dug her leather jacket out of her closet.

  As she waited at the front door, she double-checked her ponytail in the mirror and decided it would be just fine for tonight. All she carried was her phone, her keys, and her cash. Running her tongue over her teeth, she wished she had brushed them again but figured she could pick up some Altoids or something.

  When she heard a car pulling up out front, she realized she hadn’t written her mother a note. She ran back into the kitchen and grabbed a pencil, then scribbled on the pad they left by the phone. Gone out with the girls for Chinese and b-ball game at school. I won’t be late. Love, Sammi.

  The girls. It wasn’t a lie, really. Why bother explaining that it wasn’t the same girls her mother would assume? It would only be another thing for her mother to have to think about, and another thing for her father not to pay any attention to. Something for them to blame each other for.

  10

  S ammi locked the door behind her and hurried across the lawn to Rachael’s little Kia. As she dropped into the seat and pulled her door shut, she glanced at the dashboard clock and saw it was quarter past five.

  “The great escape,” Rachael said with an impish grin, pulling away from the curb. Rachael was no more than four-ten, and with her curly brown hair she looked way too young to be behind the wheel of a car, but at twenty-three she w
as seven years older than Sammi.

  “Thanks for the rescue,” Sammi said.

  “My pleasure. And all good. With you along, there’s no way Zak can deny us Chinese food.”

  Her boyfriend, Sammi’s cousin Zak, was a lanky six feet tall and wore round, rimless glasses instead of bothering to get contacts.

  “He doesn’t like Chinese?”

  Rachael grinned. “He did until we started going out. Thing is, I love it, so we have it all the time. But don’t feel sorry for him. He’ll survive. And if he behaves, he knows he’ll get rewarded.”

  “Chinese food for sex. Sounds tawdry.”

  Rachael glanced at her, grinning. “Let’s hope so.”

  “Eew. My cousin, hello?”

  Rachael snickered.

  Rachael had a flirty attitude and a gutter mouth, but it was so obviously all in good fun that she didn’t seem anything but sweet. Her playful personality was the polar opposite of Letty and Katsuko’s behavior in the stairwell the other day.

  They picked up Zak and then Anna. Rachael got out of the car and spent a few minutes talking to her mother. Sammi wondered what it would feel like when she no longer lived at her parents’ house, when she would drop by and be visiting instead of going home.

  They headed off to the Sampan. Halfway through their meal she caught herself in the midst of a laugh and realized she was having a really good time.

  “Hey,” she said to Anna during a quiet moment when Zak and Rachael were distracting each other with a kiss. “Thanks for asking me to come tonight. It’s like my whole life’s been ready to explode this week, and this is the first time I feel like the fuse isn’t burning.”

  Anna smiled. “Nice image. You should write songs or something.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “It’s cool. I’m glad you came.”

  A thought crossed Sammi’s mind as she took another forkful of kung pao chicken—she’d never understood the urge some people felt to use chopsticks.

  “Do you even like basketball?” she asked Anna.

  Zak laughed, and he and Rachael both looked over at them, their expressions making it clear Sammi had just said something utterly ridiculous.

  “My little sister doesn’t even know how many points you get for a basket,” Rachael said.

  Anna brushed the words out of the air with a hand. “Please. Does it matter? I’m here to ogle boys, not keep score.”

  “So you don’t care who wins?” Sammi asked.

  “Not the tiniest bit.”

  “Excellent,” Sammi said. “Neither do I.”

  “That’s better,” Zak said. “Then we have a good time either way.”

  Full of Chinese food and tea, they rode over to the school and parked in the lot across the street. The smaller lot—beside the doors to the gym—would be reserved for the visiting team’s bus and school personnel only.

  As it turned out, their attitude about winning and losing served them well. As the second quarter drew to a close, the Jameson Mustangs were beating the Covington Cavaliers 32–23, and the home team had gotten their score up that high only because of a trio of three-pointers Ken Nguyen had shot.

  Sammi didn’t care. She watched the cheerleaders half the time, trying to understand the subculture the way an anthropologist might study some lost Amazon tribe. The game, she discovered, really was more a social event than an athletic one. People tapped her on the shoulder to say hello, waved from across the court, or stopped her on her way to the water fountain. More than a few seemed to be making an extra effort to be friendly to her, and she winced inwardly at the idea that their kindness came out of pity. Sammi decided it didn’t really matter. None of these people was an intimate friend, but at least they were happy to see her, glad she was at the game.

  It felt good. Even better, she’d seen no sign of her former friends. Sammi doubted Caryn, Katsuko, or Letty had ever been to a basketball game. A football game, maybe. Homecoming weekend. And some of Katsuko’s swim meets, of course. But that would be the extent of their school spirit as far as supporting the sports teams.

  As the last seconds of the first half ticked down, Rachael leaned between Sammi and Anna.

  “We’re gonna take a walk. See you guys in a bit.”

  Rachael took Zak by the hand and they walked down out of the stands. Anna raised a suggestive eyebrow, and Sammi chuckled. Then the air horn blew for halftime and a flood of people came down off the stands to go to the bathroom or get snacks from the table set up in the corridor outside the gym.

  Sammi and Anna stayed put.

  “So, tell me more about this guy Adam,” Anna said.

  “Cute Adam,” Sammi corrected. She had talked about him over dinner, and now she found herself telling Anna the story about how they’d met at Kingston Lake.

  “You’re like the Pied Piper,” Anna said. “Next time we get together, you should bring your guitar and play a song that’ll bring a cute guy over for me.”

  Pleased to hear Anna talking about them hanging out more in the future, Sammi was about to promise to try to work her musical magic to lure as many cute guys as possible. But Anna had stopped paying attention. Her brow furrowed with worry. Sammi twisted around on her seat to see what had alarmed her and saw Rachael pushing past people to get to them. Her expression spoke of fear and danger and serious trouble.

  “Sammi!” Rachael called, gesturing for them to come down from the stands.

  But they were already moving. When they reached the basketball court, Rachael reached for Sammi and started to drag her toward the gym doors. Anna followed along in their wake.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Sammi asked.

  “Just come on. Maybe you can do something.”

  Sammi pulled her arm away. “Do something about what?”

  Rachael glanced nervously around and then leaned in so that only they could hear her. “These girls—Zak says they’re your friends—they’re fighting in the parking lot. There’s a lot of blood.”

  For a second, Sammi froze. It had to be T.Q., Letty, Katsuko, and Caryn. She didn’t know if she could do anything to help, or if she even wanted to help. But then she shook it off. If nothing else, for all of their sakes, she had to try to get them to stop before the police came. She’d never be able to look any of their parents in the face if they got arrested and she hadn’t at least tried.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  Sammi broke into a run. Rachael and Anna hurried to catch up. She slammed through the gym doors and out into the parking lot. To the right there were lights above the cars where some of the teachers had parked. To the left was the empty bus that had brought the Jameson High team. From beyond that, in a dark area lit only by the moon, came the sound of someone crying and a grunting noise, followed by the slap of fists upon flesh. Someone swore loudly, voice shrill and enraged.

  Her shoes clacked on the pavement as Sammi ran around the side of the bus. She stumbled to a halt and stared in horror at the scene unfolding there.

  Rachael had been right. There was a lot of blood.

  In the moonlight, she could see it painting faces and arms and gleaming where it had been smeared on the side of the bus.

  Las Reinas had finally gone after payback, but from the very first glance it was clear things hadn’t worked out the way they had planned. Caryn had Marisol on the ground. The girl all of Las Reinas looked up to started to rise, and Caryn hit her in the side of the face so hard that Sammi heard something crack, echoing like a gunshot all the way across the parking lot. Marisol tried to crawl away, and Caryn kicked her in the ribs.

  A couple of Reinas staggered away—one with a hand over her face and another holding her arm against her chest like it was broken. They headed for the back of the school, where paths would lead out to the main road and escape.

  Katsuko straddled a girl on the pavement, punching her repeatedly. A Reina named Teresa grabbed her by the hair and tried to haul her off. Katsuko went with the momentum, thrust herself up and
twisted around, reached out her hands and clawed Teresa’s face and neck. The girl screamed and shot a fist into the side of Katsuko’s head. The swimmer barely flinched as she grabbed Teresa, pulled her in close, and started to punch and then knee her in the gut and chest, driving her to the ground.

  T.Q. threw Jesenia up against the bus, pressing her face against the metal, smearing blood from a gash on the girl’s cheek and from what had to be a broken nose onto the yellow paint.

  Shouting, Zak grabbed T.Q. by the shoulders and pulled her away. T.Q. yanked away from his grasp, turned, and launched a vicious kick at his balls that made him cry out and fall to his knees, then curl into a fetal ball on the pavement. Zak started hyperventilating, air whistling through his teeth.

  Rachael ran to him. T.Q. ignored her.

  Sammi stood and stared, saw it all unfolding at once. When she could breathe again, she turned to Anna, whose eyes were wide with horror.

  “Get back inside. Find coaches, teachers, whatever. Call the police.”

  Anna ran.

  Sammi heard another cry, a wail for mercy, and from the darkness near the front end of the bus came a figure bent at the waist, staggering in pain. The girl looked up, searching for some escape, and in the moonlight Sammi recognized Cori.

  Then Letty went after her.

  Letty didn’t run. She had done enough damage that she knew Cori wouldn’t be going anywhere fast. Instead, Letty strode after her, fists clenched with grim purpose. Blood spattered her grinning face, but Sammi did not think the blood was Letty’s own.

  She caught up to Cori and launched a savage kick at the base of the girl’s back that knocked her to the pavement, sliding on her palms, scraping them raw.

  Then Letty started kicking. She caught Cori in the head, in the ribs, in the arms the girl lifted to defend herself, and her grin never wavered.

  But she never said a word.

  Underneath all the horror and revulsion, her former friends’ silence filled Sammi with fear. Las Reinas cried out in pain, they cursed, but Letty and the girls said nothing.

  Cori covered herself as best she could with her arms. Tears streamed down her face. Letty kept kicking.

 

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