Canary

by Rachele Alpine

  “No, I stopped him. I thought he was Jack, but then I realized he wasn’t.” Even I knew how lame those words sounded.

  “Right,” Ali said slowly. “Sure. You thought he was Jack.”

  “You really think I’d sleep with Luke?”

  “Of course you would. You’re so obvious when you flirt with him.”

  “I’d never do something like that.” I wanted to laugh at how unbelievable Ali was. There was no way in hell I’d ever consider Luke attractive. I thought about how much Jenna and I joked about his nastiness, but that confession wouldn’t go over well with Ali.

  “Well, you proved yourself wrong, because you did.” She grabbed a framed picture of Jack and me together after a basketball game. She looked at it for a second and then threw it on the ground.

  The glass broke, and I gritted my teeth, steeling myself not to react.

  She walked to me so she was right in my face. “You stupid slut.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him. He tried to rape me.” The word fell out of my mouth, slicing my tongue like a razor. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about that word for longer than a second. When it had started to creep into my head, I’d pushed it into the darkness because it seemed like something so awful. But that’s what had happened. I hadn’t wanted Luke. I hadn’t flirted with him or told him in any way it was okay to have sex with me. Luke had tried to rape me. The truth was there, hanging between Ali and me.

  She took a step back. “Are you kidding me? Rape you? You’re certifiable.”

  “That’s what happened,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, even though I was shaking all over.

  “I think I’d know if I were sleeping with a rapist.”

  “Luke is not a good person.”

  “Get real. You knew exactly what you were doing with him, and now you regret it because you got caught.”

  I tried to plead with her, to get her to listen. “I had no idea what was going on. I was confused and sick. None of it makes sense. I must have had too much to drink.”

  “People get wasted and hook up all the time, and they don’t go calling it rape. Just because you regret it when you’re sober doesn’t mean you didn’t want it when you were drunk. Besides, I saw how little you drank. You were playing the goody-goody all night.”

  She was right, but how else could I explain that night? Nothing about it, how I felt and what Luke tried to do, connected. “He told me he was Jack; it was dark, and I felt so—”

  “Shut up,” she screamed. “I don’t want to hear it. No one’s going to believe that.”

  “It’s the truth”

  “Who do you think everyone is going to listen to, a whore like you or Jack and Luke? You don’t have a chance.”

  “It’s not my fault.”

  “I will destroy you,” she hissed.

  She slammed my bedroom door so hard Dad called to me again from downstairs.

  I dug my fingers into my bruises and winced. I let my mind focus on that night and remembered what I had done to ruin everything.

  www.allmytruths.com

  Today’s Truth:

  The people you want to forget always come back in the end.

  Just one moment destroys it all

  A single action breaks me and you

  Can we find again what he took

  Knowing makes forgetting impossible

  Posted By: Your Present Self

  [Monday, December 16, 7:58 PM]

  Chapter 67

  I stayed home from school the next two days. I knew it made it look as if I was giving in and letting Luke win, but Ali had made it totally clear I was the loser in this fight. Dad never even noticed me missing from his morning routine, and I wondered if anyone else at school did either.

  My room became my refuge, my cave in which to withdraw. My covers held me in my bed, layers of them, their heavy heat soaking up my tears.

  When I did get up, I sat Indian style, staring in the mirror, trying to make eye contact with myself. I wore a tank top and forced myself to look at the bruise, which had turned angry shades of yellow in the middle and dark blues and purples on the outside. I continued to push with my fingers to make the reminder of my mistake grow larger and larger.

  I left my window cracked to feel something, even if it was just cold air. I let in whispers of wind that danced with the quietly clacking blinds. At first, I turned the radio on, but even the pop songs hurt. They all sang of love, not of loss and betrayal. Instead, I found an old box fan and kept it on for noise.

  I called Jack. I hadn’t heard from him, and I needed to talk to him. I called him four, five, six times in a row. I left messages trying to explain myself, trying to find words to describe something I couldn’t understand.

  “Jack, it’s Kate. Please call me. I need to talk about what happened.”

  “Jack, it wasn’t what you thought it was. What you saw in the bedroom.”

  “Jack, I thought it was you in the bed. I need to explain.”

  “Jack, please pick up. I need you to listen. Talk to me.”

  “Jack, this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Nothing is. It’s all wrong. Talk to me. What you walked in on; it’s not what you saw.”

  “Jack, Luke did this. He pretended to be you. I thought I was with you.”

  “Jack, it’s Kate. Please.”

  I called him constantly. Sometimes I left a message, and sometimes I remained silent, knowing he’d see my name in his missed calls. I hoped I could get him to say something to me, anything.

  After staying in my room for four days straight, the door opened with a sudden purpose.

  Dad stood illuminated by a halo of light from the hallway.

  “The school called. They said you haven’t been going to class. You’ve missed the last three days. Is that true?”

  I met Dad’s gaze with swelled, red-rimmed eyes, dirty, knotted hair, and pajamas at five in the afternoon. It was obvious things weren’t right. “I haven’t been feeling well.”

  “You’re sick?” he asked, confused. “Is there anything I can do?”

  I wanted to tell him everything that had happened. The words hung there, ready to spill over, but he was already glancing back down the hallway. I heard some kind of game on the television and knew he was anxious to get back to it.

  I shook my head. He didn’t want to hear about this. Not now. Not ever.

  He walked to my bed and put his hand on my forehead. “I had no idea. I’ve been so busy trying to get the team into the play-offs . . .”

  “Is it okay if I stay home tomorrow? I still don’t feel good.”

  “One more day is okay,” he said. “I told the school you were sick. I didn’t want them to think I didn’t know what was going on with my own daughter.” He laughed and walked to the door.

  I felt nauseated at the thought of what he didn’t know.

  “You should have told me you weren’t feeling well.”

  My head throbbed, and I fought back tears. You should have asked.

  He averted his gaze and talked to the ceiling. “I told them there’s no reason to worry. I’m glad there isn’t. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Good,” he said and pulled the door shut, closing out the light until it was a thin thread fighting to stay lit against my world of darkness.

  www.allmytruths.com

  Today’s Truth:

  Sometimes anything is better than nothing.

  “We need to talk.”

  “It’s not you; it’s me.”

  “I think we’re better as just friends.”

  “I’m not into you.”

  “I need something more.”

  “I need to find myself.”

  “It’s bad timing.”

  “We are both at different places in our lives.”

  “I don’t see myself with you.”

  “I don’t want to be in a relationship right now.”

  “We grew apart.”

  “We are different people with different needs.”


  “Maybe if I had met you ten years down the road.”

  “I am entering the witness protection program.”

  “I need to focus all my time on basketball this season.”

  “I want to see what else is out there.”

  “I need to work on myself. I can’t love you until I learn to love myself.”

  “I need a break to figure things out.”

  “This is moving too fast for me.”

  “I’m not good enough for you. You need to be with someone who will treat you right.”

  Any of these excuses would be better, even the bad ones that sound made up, because at least I would have a reason.

  Any reason would be better than the silence that screams in my ears when Jack doesn’t even try to understand what happened that night at his party.

  When he doesn’t want to fight for me.

  When he doesn’t want to acknowledge what he saw.

  When he acts as if he never knew who I was.

  When he moves on with his life, while I float by as a ghost.

  His smell, so familiar, and mine, haunting me as he blows away, the thin wispy vapors of our relationship evaporating behind him.

  Posted By: Your Present Self

  [Wednesday, December 18, 7:37 PM]

  Chapter 68

  Dad followed through with the deal made during our conversation. He let me stay home one more day and then told me I had to go back to Beacon. The ironic thing was that, after pretending for almost a week, I really was sick this morning.

  I was terrified of running into Luke and threw up while getting ready, which made everything worse.

  I waited to go inside Beacon until the warning bell rang. I checked my phone one last time. Jack still hadn’t called.

  I felt as if the whole world was watching me as I walked into the hallway. I kept my head down. Every whisper I heard I assumed was about me. I was sure by now they all knew a version of the story that was nothing like what had really happened.

  Jack was the only one I wanted to see. There wasn’t a question whether I’d run into him; it was a certainty. I’d stolen a hall pass from Dad’s briefcase. He had a ton and would never miss it. Jack would see it and believe Dad was asking him to come to his office during lunch. Dad wouldn’t be there—he ate lunch with the other coaches in the athletic office—but I would be. It was devious and could totally backfire, but I needed to talk to Jack. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to finally decide to pick up the phone. He’d made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.

  I spotted an office aid and handed her the pass.

  “Coach Franklin needs to get this to Jack Blane. Can you deliver it?”

  “No problem,” the girl said, grabbing my pass and glancing at me before heading down the hallway. I wondered if she knew what had happened, if she believedwhat everyone was saying. I moved through the hallway with my head down, slipped between bodies, and pretended I was invisible. It was easier to think I could just disappear, because I imagined they were as disgusted with me as I was.

  I hurried to Dad’s office when the bell rang

  before lunch. I sighed in relief when I saw Jack wasn’t there yet. I sat on the couch and picked at its loose threads.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  Jack entered without knocking and walked right past me, not even seeing me on the couch.

  “Jack.” I stood and blocked the door. It was a pathetic thing to do, but I was desperate. I needed to make him listen.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk?”

  “You haven’t answered any of my messages, and I had to get you to listen.”

  “What could you possibly say that you didn’t the other night in bed with Luke? What?” He yelled the last word with so much force that spit flew onto my face.

  I didn’t wipe it off. I didn’t move. “I need to

  explain.”

  Jack stood there, wearing the gray hooded sweatshirt he’d let me borrow so many times, the one with the small hole in the left sleeve I used to poke my finger through.

  “You don’t,” he said.

  “I don’t?”

  “You don’t need to explain. I don’t give a shit what you have to say. I’m done, Kate. With everything. You told me exactly how you felt when you were in my bed with Luke.”

  Jack pushed past me, my shoulder banging into the door. Pain shot up my arm, but I was too busy feeling a different kind of pain, the kind that enveloped me, saturated me, and dripped into every single part of me.

  It was as simple as that. The breaking apart. A quick crack with his words, and we were no longer together.

  www.allmytruths.com

  Today’s Truth:

  It is possible to lose everything.

  I make a list of things I found . . .

  Jack

  Ali

  Beacon

  Friends

  Happiness

  Noise

  Life

  Smiles

  I then make a list of things I have lost . . .

  Jack

  Ali

  Beacon

  Popularity

  Friends

  Happiness

  Noise

  Smiles

  Laughter

  My mother

  My father

  My brother

  When I compare the list

  I see that the things I have lost

  are more than the things I have found,

  leaving

  me

  with

  negative zero.

  Less

  than

  nothing.

  Posted By: Your Present Self

  [Thursday, December 19, 3:10 PM]

  Chapter 69

  Julia cornered me in choir. It was one of Mrs. Reid’s voice rest days, and I was sitting next to three boys who were laughing at some lame Japanese comic book they had. I’d been trying my hardest to ignore Ali at the top of the choir risers. She was talking loudly about some party she was planning on going to with Luke. She looked pointedly at me, and I knew she wanted me to know she was still with him. It made me sick that she still wanted to be with him after what had happened.

  I tried to look busy, as if my math homework was the most exciting thing in the world, but Julia wasn’t buying it. She sat behind me and whispered in my ear, “Why are you avoiding me?”

  “I’m not. I really haven’t talked to anyone.”

  “Brett’s really worried about you, and so am I. What’s going on?”

  I glanced toward Ali.

  Ali caught my eye and whispered loudly, “Slut.”

  A few of the girls laughed.

  “I’m sure the rumors have reached you too,” I said.

  “I’ve heard what people are saying, and I know none of it’s true. What happened, Kate?”

  I started to shake. This was so unfair. Ali sat up there as if she was perfect, judging me like I was a piece of trash.

  I turned to face Julia and pretended it was only the two of us in the room. I shut out all the noise around me and started to talk. “Jack did find Luke and me together. But it wasn’t the way everyone is saying it happened.”

  “I never thought it was,” she said.

  I hated myself for keeping this from her. Of course she wouldn’t have believed Luke and Ali. She’d listen to the truth.

  She sat quietly as I relived what happened two weeks ago at Jack’s party.

  When I finished, she hugged me and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

  “I didn’t want to lose you too. I was afraid of what you’d think.”

  “I’ll tell you what I think. Luke is an asshole. He’s worthless, and the last thing you should do is keep this inside.”

  I twisted my hair around my fingers and let it go. “It made me feel so dirty to think about what he tried to do. It’s next to impossible to speak the words out loud.”r />
  “You need to tell someone,” Julia said firmly. “He can’t get away with this.”

  “No one would believe me. Why would they? Ali is right. It’d be my story against everyone else’s version.”

  Julia leaned forward, looking me straight in the eye. “He tried to rape you, Kate. You’ve got to go to the police.”

  I ground the pencil I was holding into my math notebook. The thought made me feel sick. “There’s no way.”

  “They would believe you. You also need to talk to your dad.”

  “My dad would not be able to handle this. He treats the team as if they’re his own kids.”

  “This isn’t something you can ignore. You need to speak up or they’re going to keep doing the same thing.”

  “Who?”

  “The basketball players,” Julia said. “They can’t get away with this.”

  “It’s not their fault. It’s Luke’s.”

  “Are you kidding me? You cannot still be supporting them.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are. And they need to be punished. All of them. They’ve been getting away with things like this forever.”

  “Everyone thinks they can’t do anything wrong. Including my dad.” I drew circles around and around in my math book so I wouldn’t have to look Julia in the eye.

  “People only believe it because no one will stand up against them.”

  “Maybe nobody has said anything because they’re afraid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If someone were to speak up loud enough that people had to take notice, how do you think that person would be treated? The town loves the basketball players. They act as if they’re gods.”

  “You need to try. You need to do something, or it’s going to keep happening.”

  “I’m not strong enough,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.”

  “You’re wrong. Think about all you and Brett have been through during these last two years. You’re tough, and you’ll do the right thing.”