by Ann Hunter
Brooke chuckled. “Pretend you’ve got a horse’s head in front of you. Imagine the way he moves at a gallop. Try to mimic that motion.”
Alex squeezed her eyes against a tear of effort, and started driving her hands.
“Go easier,” Brooke said. “Not so much like a piston, more like making a basketball shot. Just throw it away. Let the horse do the work.”
Alex pictured Promenade’s white mane flashing in front of her, his chocolate coat glistening in the sun, with veins pumping to the beat of her own heart. For a second, the pain in her legs washed away.
“That’s it,” Brooke hooted. “You got it.”
Alex broke into a half grin from her tight jaw and swallowed. She kept the motion going for a few more seconds before she collapsed in the saddle. Her legs shook even as she sat there.
Brooke gave the hay bale a playful kick. “Great job, Speedy.”
CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER
Created: Sunday, January 24, 2016 11:56:23 PM
Modified: Monday, January 25, 2016 9:04:17 PM
Status: No Status
Label: No Label
CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER
Alex shut her locker and dug her hands into her pockets. Her fingers found the bow instinctively, and could help but turn it over and over. She took an unsteady breath, riddled with the feeling of pins and needles going through her.
“You ready for the test?” Carol asked as they headed to English.
Alex wondered if she did well, would Hillary even notice? She felt like breaking down at the thought of failing.
When Alex didn’t say anything, Carol took her arm in her own and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. We’ve spent lots of time studying Moby Dick. You’ll be fine.”
Alex fingers worked the satin bow in her pocket more nervously.
Carol must have noticed the tension in Alex’s arm, the flexing tendons beneath her hold. “I notice you doing that sometimes,” she said. “What do you have in there?”
Alex’s hand clenched around the bow. “Nothing.”
“Alex, I’m trying to help you, remember? If you want to be in a family, you shouldn’t hide stuff.”
They came to a standstill.
“I’m not hiding anything.”
Carol held out her hand. “Let me see it.”
Alex danced away. “No.”
Carol caught her and tugged Alex’s hand from her pocket, snatching the bow. She looked at it, perplexed.
Alex’s shoulders slumped. She rubbed the back of her neck with a grimace. “Hillary had a baby that died, and I took it.” She bit her lip. “Frick, I’m a creeper.”
Carol’s gaze lifted to hers slowly. “Why?”
“I— I don’t know,” Alex stammered. “I saw it, and I took it.”
“You need to give it back. She’s got to have noticed it’s missing.”
“I guess it sort of became this thing that was her baby, and… I don’t know…” Alex turned away, blushing. She gulped. “I…” she said awkwardly, “I want to be that baby?” She huffed. She couldn’t make eye contact with Carol when she came around. “It’s not fair that a ghost gets Hillary’s love, and I don’t.”
Alex took a stuttered breath. “I want to be loved.”
Carol wrapped her arms around her slowly. “You are.”
She leaned her head against Carol’s shoulder. “I feel guilty and greedy for wanting it.”
“I know without a doubt Cade and Laura love you, and Hillary does too. We all have our demons, and sometimes it’s hard to see past them. But you’ve got to give that bow back.”
Carol pressed it into Alex’s palm. “You don’t have to hide this. Don’t cheat your way through. Okay?”
Alex nodded slowly. Her voice was tight. “Okay.”
Carol turned back toward English class. “Let’s go ace this test.”
She stared at the bow, her fingers curling around it as she followed behind Carol. Alex slipped the satin back into her pocket and looked up just as she entered the door.
She stood still when her eyes settled on Brad at the front of the room. His mouth curled when he saw her, following her all the way to her seat with his eyes.
Alex put her backpack beneath her seat, shivers racing down her back. What was he doing here?
Their English teacher welcomed the last student and moved to the front of the class. “I’ve invited one of our upper classmen to assist in supervising this exam. If we catch anyone attempting to cheat, I’m sure you can all imagine the consequences. Shall we begin?”
Brad took half the stack of papers from the teacher’s desk and started passing them out. When he reached Alex’s desk, he gave her the test and patted her on the back as he passed. Alex practically leapt from the seat, arm windmilling him away. How dare he touch her!
He glanced over his shoulder and gave her that special smile he had for whenever he thought he had an upper hand.
Carol whispered over her shoulder to her, “You okay?”
“No talking,” the teacher reminded.
Alex clenched her teeth. She stared down at the test, tapping her eraser against her desk rapidly.
“Tsst,” hissed the teacher. “There will also be no morse code.”
Alex sank her teeth into her pencil, fingers digging into her hair. The letters swirled together. What were words?
Queequeg. What’s a Queequeg? There’s no way she and Carol had talked about that. Beads of icy sweat formed under Alex’s shoulder-length hair. She was pretty sure she needed to be excused.
She rose in her seat, needing to get out of the room, but thought better of it when Brad gave her a thumbs up from the front of the room. Not even in a nice way, but with that same sickening smile.
Alex ground her teeth. She wouldn’t let him get the best of her. Her eyes turned back to her paper, and she started forcing answers out, no matter how badly spelled or made up they were. Today was for reminding him she could take him down any day.
She glanced up just as his smile faded, just when he realized he’d failed again. Brad rose from his place at the front of the class and strode over to the teacher, lowering his head. The teacher’s eyes locked on to Alex as Brad whispered in his ear.
The teacher cleared his throat, and got out of his seat, buttoning his sweater. He towered over Alex, and she looked up slowly in his shadow.
“Miss Anderson, come with me.”
“Is something wrong?”
Brad joined the teacher’s side, looking all smug again.
“Please hand Mister Hopkins your test, and come with me.”
Alex looked between them, confused, but followed her teacher out of the room. “Where are we going?”
“The office.”
“But why?”
Her teacher shook his head. “I often suspect certain students of cheating, but I hoped it would never be you.”
Cheating? “But I didn’t— ”
“Mister Hopkins is positive of what he saw. I don’t take such things lightly.” He opened the office door for Alex, and informed the woman at the desk of what his student had done. He turned to Alex, frowning. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
No sooner had he left than the Principal stuck her head out from her own door. “Alexandra. We meet again.”
Alex turned to the wall, and softly beat her head against it. She rolled away, shoulders slumped, and sat across from the Principal.
“Would you like to explain yourself?”
Alex gripped the arms of her chair and huffed. “I was framed.”
The Principal wove her spindly, veined fingers together, settling them over her desk. “And I suppose Brad had a hand in this incident as well.”
“Of course he did.”
She pressed a button, and a speaker in the corner of the ceiling buzzed, “Yes?”
“Could you please send Mister Hopkins in.” She let go of the button, and leveled her eyes on Alex.
Alex looked over her shoulder, feeling sick to her stomach. Brad
entered with a long, rectangular sheet in his hand. He handed it to the Principal.
“I found this in her desk,” he said.
“Yeah, I bet,” Alex growled. “You probably put it there yourself.”
The Principal looked at him. “Did you?”
“Oh, I would never do that, ma’am. As a teacher’s aide, I’m there to help our students succeed, not cheat.” Brad surveyed Alex, with a pleased little hmph. “She needs all the help she can get. Don’t you, Alex-an-dra?”
The way he said her name made Alex want to gag.
The Principal peered over the edge of her glasses, comparing the answer key to what little Alex had written. She looked up to Brad who returned her regards with the most angelic of smiles, as though he were the best student in the whole wide world.
She returned the answer key to him. “Mister Hopkins, would you kindly ask Miss Atkins at the front desk to phone Miss Anderson’s parents.”
Brad placed his hand on his chest and gave a cavalier little bow. “Of course.”
Alex shot from her seat, pounding her fist against the door as it shut. “No!”
She hammered it again, giving it a solid kick too. “Don’t call my folks.” She rounded toward the Principal. “You can’t call them. Please.”
“Alexandra,” the Principal scolded. “Take a seat, and pull yourself together.”
Alex gritted her teeth, shaking from top to toe.
She stayed with the Principal until someone came to collect her. Whoever it was beyond that door was silent. Alex squeezed her eyes shut. Not Hillary. Not Hillary. Not…
The door swung open.
Damn.
Alex and Hillary drove home in silence. Hillary didn’t even turn the radio on. All that lay between them was the soft roar of the countryside rushing by.
Maybe it would just blow over when they got home. Was it too much to hope Hillary would hug her like the first time Alex got suspended? Alex would get sent to her room, and that would be it.
The heaviness of dread only grew as they drove down the lane toward the Showmans’ house. Hillary shut her door pretty firmly after she parked.
Alex gripped her backpack and blew out a breath before exiting the car. She followed behind Hillary slowly, willing her to say something. Anything. She couldn’t take the silence much longer.
Laura sat at the table, working on homework, like she’d been waiting for them. She peered up, watching her mother open her mouth to speak. Hillary practically suffocated the car keys in her hand.
Alex shot a look to Laura, practically begging her to intervene, but she did nothing.
Hillary’s voice shook as she spoke. She started slowly, softly, then grew louder. “Stealing Promenade when Laura was in the hospital, accusing people of doing things they’re not, your recent outbursts, and now cheating? All this acting out…”
Alex flung her backpack onto the stairs. “I do a lot of crappy stuff, Hills, but I’m no cheater. I’m trying so— ” Alex bit her lip to avoid swearing. “— hard.”
“I don’t need you acting like this.”
Alex’s fists closed. Her chin trembled. “You don’t need me,” she murmured hoarsely. “Okay. I don’t need you either.”
Laura got to her feet, wavering. “Mom— do something!”
But Alex was already gone out the door before Hillary could beg her to come back.
LET IT GO
Created: Monday, January 25, 2016 7:05:31 PM
Modified: Monday, January 25, 2016 9:38:31 PM
Status: No Status
Label: No Label
LET IT GO
Alex shivered as she stood on Carol’s porch. She knocked softly on their front door. A sliver of light cut through between the knob and the red bricks of the house, and Charlotte peeked out.
Alex couldn’t make eye contact with her. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms. “Can I stay with you guys tonight?”
Charlotte opened the door wide and swept her in, wordlessly. She called Carol whose head popped out around a corner.
“Alex?”
“Hi,” Alex murmured.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Alex shrugged, still hugging herself. “No.” She sighed. “I dunno.”
Charlotte guided her to a stool by a small counter that wrapped into their tiny kitchen. She sat her down and threw a russet-colored afghan around Alex’s shoulders. “How did you get here?”
Alex pulled the blanket around her. “Walked.”
“You walked all the way here?” Charlotte gasped. “Do your parents know?”
Alex shook her head, then turned, realizing what she’d probably do. “Please don’t call them,” she said quickly. “Call the front office or whatever, but not my folks.”
Charlotte put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. It struck Alex kind of funny, like looking at an older Carol.
Carol bounced over and grabbed Alex’s elbow. “Come on. We’ll have some ice cream and pretend your mom isn’t mad.”
“Do you have a flavor called It’s Not Me, It’s You?”
“Alex.”
She liked it a lot better when Carol said her name than Brad. “I swear I didn’t cheat. I’ve done worse, don’t need to try and top it.”
“I know you didn’t.” Carol smiled as she opened the ice cream.
“Why can’t she just— ”
Carol shoved a spoonful of caramel ribbon chocolate ice cream into Alex’s mouth. “Let it go.”
Charlotte scooped them up a small dish. “I’ll take you home in the morning. Finish up, and then I want you both to get some sleep.”
Alex did as she was told, grateful for a safe place for the night. Charlotte told them not to worry about the dishes, and Alex dragged the afghan blanket with her to Carol’s room.
She would’ve been fine with sleeping on the floor, but Carol insisted no friend of hers should sleep like a dog, no matter how much they might feel like one right now.
Alex lay next to her in the dark and the quiet. “Carol?”
Carol linked her pinky with Alex’s between their pillows, whispering sleepily, “It’s going to be okay.”
And Alex was back to the night they became best friends, with a hole in her heart that wasn’t as deep anymore. Because the girl she was staring at, sleeping so peacefully, filled it in again.
When Alex got home the next morning, she heard Hillary digging through her bedroom.
“Where is it? Where is it?”
Laura had gotten stronger and hobbled from her room. “You okay Mom?”
Alex bit her lip from where she stood, and started up the stairs. She clutched the bow in her pocket, wincing.
“I can’t,” Hillary stammered, “I can’t find it.”
“What can’t you find?” Laura asked.
Alex sucked in a breath and held it. She rubbed her thumb over the satin, and slowly stepped toward her door. Maybe Carol was right. Maybe it was time to let go.
Laura held her mother’s trembling shoulders, searching her eyes for what was wrong. From what Alex could see, Hillary looked embarrassed and frightened all at once.
She took another step toward them, and another, slowly pulling her fist from her pocket. Laura and Hillary turned her heads toward her, and Alex, shaking just as much as Hillary, stretched out her hand. She unwound her fingers to reveal the now tattered little bow.
Hillary’s eyes welled. “You had it? All this time?”
Alex stared at the bow, tucking her lip in silence. Hillary’s hands shot for hers and gripped it tightly. There was no mistaking the anger in her voice. “You…”
Alex snapped her eyes shut, and for a moment, a flash of Van DeGelder broadsided her. That grip, that cold hard grip.
But Hillary’s softened. “Why?” she whispered hoarsely.
Alex slowly opened her eyes. She spoke haltingly. “Every day since the wreck… there’s been a ghost in this house. And at first, I thought it was me.” She took a sharp breath, remembering how Hilla
ry had just brushed past her at the hospital. “You didn’t even ask if I was okay.” It still hurt, but she pushed on. “I felt invisible. With Laura in the hospital, it’s like I didn’t exist anymore. Then Cade told me what happened with your baby, and… I dunno.”
Alex’s own eyes teared up. “I saw it, and I took it. I didn’t even think about it, or what it really meant to you. I know it hurts. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. And that ghost in the house isn’t me. It isn’t even the memory of your baby hanging over this place.” A tear escaped, and Alex summoned the courage to look Hillary in the eye. “You’re the ghost.”
Hillary’s shoulders tensed, and her face paled. Laura leaned her head against her mother’s cheek and swallowed hard, like someone had finally had the courage to speak the truth.
With the bow safely in Hillary’s grasp, Alex dropped her hand. She stood there plainly, hating this vulnerability in herself. She wiped a tear with the back of her wrist, trying to keep her voice steady and not choke up. “You love that baby. I get it. But I want you to love me too.” She pointed to herself, then to the bow. “I’m alive, and she’s not.” She dropped her hands. “Can’t you love me now? Can’t you love us both?”
Hillary stared at her, stricken and silent. Laura wrapped both arms around her, murmuring, “Mom? I think you have a new baby that needs you.”
Alex listened to the clink of silverware against plates and dishes at lunch. She shifted beneath Hillary’s multiple glances. What was she thinking? Was she still angry? Her face didn’t look as upset, but definitely still bothered.
Alex thought she saw some shadows under Hillary’s eyes, and maybe a hint of red from crying. Neither of them said a word. After the food was plated, Laura offered a prayer. And while Alex still wasn’t too sure about this whole God thing, she bowed her head anyway.
“Thank you, Lord, for this meal we’re about to share…”
Alex zoned out for a minute. In the back of her mind, at the top of the stairs, was a scared little thirteen-year-old watching this family. A shadow of herself, a shadow she was letting go. She tuned back in, just before Laura finished praying.
