Something Happened to Ali Greenleaf

by Hayley Krischer

  And I didn’t know about it all. Did I have an idea? Yes. Did I know something bad happened? Yes. But wasn’t it more complicated than that? And who was I supposed to believe? Sean, who I’ve known for practically my whole life, or Ali, who I never spoke to once until that night? I wanted to help Ali. I wanted to make it . . . less public. I wanted to be by her side through this. Not out the whole situation on social media.

  “She could have had allies,” Donnie says. “But she had to go and mention all of us.”

  “Give me a break, Donnie. You hated her. You thought she wormed her way in here.”

  “She did, Jensen. She was your little charity case. But I could have backed her up if she had done this differently. I could have done some damage to Nessel without her even asking me. Any of us—” She looks at Suki. “Any of us would have done this for her. But you wanted to keep her close like a little mama birdie. You wanted her right there, stuffed under your wing. And now she’s written something that’s going viral that’s going to be damaging to you.”

  I think of Ali and her little face. How she was always confused, squinting at me like a little nothing. Donnie’s right. Ali’s a baby bird. A little swallow. I took her into my world with my friends and she liked it. She can’t deny that she liked it. That she liked being around me.

  We were really friends. Weren’t we?

  Weren’t we?

  I think back to that night when Sean cried.

  That girl made a mess of my jacket. She bled everywhere.

  You know I would never hurt anyone. You know I wouldn’t do anything to anyone.

  His words drowned everything out. All I heard was his side. All I knew was his want. His pain. His fear. And what’s been the outcome? My friendship with Ali is over. Dev broke up with me. All to absolve Sean.

  But she wouldn’t listen to me. The other day in the stairwell. I tried! I told her I was backing out of the Initiation. That I wasn’t going to be in charge of it. And what was her response? I’m proud of you. Then she goes and paints me as an evil witch who tried to cover it up.

  “Don’t you remember how it was in the beginning, B? You were the one who tried to convince her that Nessel was this great guy. The kind of guy who would never do such a thing,” Donnie says.

  “I tried to get her to see Sean’s side. That was all. I never told her not to tell anyone.”

  “Yeah, and that seemed to go well.”

  Donnie grabs the phone from Suki. “Let’s dissect this shit.” She reads it like she’s some Shakespearean actress.

  “‘There was one girl who knew about it. She knew it all. How did she know? Because the guy, you know, my rapist, told her. It was her job to persuade me not to tell.’”

  “That’s called obstruction of justice, B. She’s trying to get you arrested,” Donnie says.

  “You’re being paranoid,” I say. But wasn’t that the same thought I had? That the police would want to question me?

  “Maybe she wants some notoriety,” Suki says.

  “Maybe she just wanted to blow the top off everything, which I would totally back,” Cate says. “I just don’t know why she had to mention us.”

  “She didn’t exactly mention us,” Donnie says. “She mentioned Blythe. And worse, she told Blythe’s story. Without your permission. She wrote about the Initiation, basically.” Donnie reads from the paper again. “‘She even had her own experience as a freshman. But her assault was sanctioned.’ She outed you, B. Do you understand that?”

  “Who gives her the right to say that?” Cate says. “She went up there with Nessel like a little fucking lapdog.”

  “She was half dead when B found her,” Suki says.

  “How did you lose control of this girl, Jensen?” Donnie smacks the gum in her mouth. Blowing oversize billowing bubbles. Waiting for answers, waiting for me to take charge. The three of them. Their eyes heavy on me.

  I unravel from all my Ali Greenleaf empathy. I loosen from that friendship that we had. Raging now.

  They’re going to come for C-wing next. We toss our cigarettes in the toilet. Maybe for the last time. Attached to a bathroom. Isn’t that strange? How can you be attached to a bathroom? But this is the end of it.

  I whisper to Suki as we’re walking out, “Remember everything I said before about letting go of this?”

  She nods her head.

  “It was a temporary lapse of reason. She can’t do this to me. To us. This isn’t going to be a war. This is going to be revenge.”

  44

  ALI

  In school it feels like everyone is watching me and I can’t think straight. All my teachers and their words droning together. I thought it would feel better to write this. But it feels worse.

  * * *

  * * *

  Terrance nudges me in physics. “The article is blowing up,” he says, his face bright and smiling. I think about Blythe and if she’s read it. I wonder what she and her friends are thinking. If the police are going to find out. I wonder if Sean Nessel’s read it yet, what his reaction will be when he does. I spend most of class staring at the Instagram post, my phone tucked under my desk. I know I wanted this. I know this was my idea. But I didn’t know how it would feel after. To be so vulnerable. To feel pulled in two directions like this. So ashamed and also so proud.

  I drift off as Mr. Chui talks about balanced and unbalanced forces. I think about me and Blythe. He draws a boulder on the board. A little stick person pushes the rock on one side and another stick person pushes the rock on the other. I remember how Blythe squeezed my wrist at the dance. How she wouldn’t let me go. And how I jerked away from her. My force, greater than hers. I always thought she was stronger. Blythe Jensen the mighty.

  But it was me. I was the one. I had more strength than she did after all.

  * * *

  * * *

  Sammi meets me at my locker before lunch. I get weepy when I see her. Like when I was a kid and I’d fall on the playground. I’d brush myself off. Hold back the tears. Pick the gravel out of my knee. Until my mother came, her worried face asking what happened, and I’d crumple in her arms.

  “No, no, no. Don’t fall apart now,” Sammi says, wiping tears away. “You’re a warrior. A goddess. Look what you did.” She strokes my hair, brings me close to her. My face wet. The shoulder of her T-shirt soaked. “Look how many girls are going to look up to you. Look at what you opened up here. You outed him, dude. You’re a fucking legend. Don’t you feel so good? So strong?”

  And I do feel it. As scared as I am, I can feel it. But I’m hesitant. “I’m not really there yet,” I say. It’s not about Sean Nessel. He’s not the one I’m worried about. It’s about her.

  Because I know the blowback from Blythe is coming.

  45

  BLYTHE

  This isn’t even about Sean. This is about outing the C-wing bathroom and ruining our safe space. This is about calling me out as the girl who tried to persuade her not to tell. Wasn’t I more than that? Wasn’t I her friend? For all I’ve done for her.

  This is going to be an exercise of public humiliation.

  The game is: Like. Dislike. Rate.

  Cate posts a photo of Donnie in her stories and over her face it says this:

  Like: your reactions and emotions hahaha and you’re, like, one of my besties and I lover you.

  Dislike: nothing, of course

  Rate: 378645272

  Then she posts a picture of Ali and over her face it says this:

  Like: the way you blow smoke rings because you have such a round mouth, good for sucking (lol lol)

  Dislike: what a liar you are.

  Rate: -4

  A few hours later she deletes it. Then something new. A photo of Ali with the word LIAR over it. Then another photo from another account. USER.

  A fourth photo. Of the article. The text reads: WHE
N YOU STAB YOUR BFF IN THE BACK.

  A fifth photo of the article. WHEN YOU FLAT-OUT LIE.

  Donnie opens another account. Calls it “Greenleaf the Stalker.” She posts endless photos of dead birds in black-and-white. Donnie thinks it adds a goth touch. She says it’s a work of art. She tags Ali over and over.

  It makes me uncomfortable. I can hear Ali’s voice in my head. What’s wrong with you? How could you?

  I tell this to Donnie. That it’s enough already with the dead birds.

  “You’re a fucking loser, Jensen,” she says. “What we are doing to this girl is nothing compared to what she did to you. Did you see how many people read that thing? What she did to you is going to stick. Do you understand that? You’re always going to be the girl who tried to get her not to tell. What we’re doing to her is run-of-the-mill harassment. She can delete it. She can stop going on Instagram. It’s dead birds. It could be so much worse, and you know it. She doesn’t even have to see it. But she’ll know about it. Because people will tell her. And she deserves to be uncomfortable. She deserves a little prodding. That’s all this is. Don’t think of it any deeper than that.”

  I have to keep reminding myself that. It’s not deep. It’s just a little bit of a lashing. That she brought this on herself. That she didn’t have to involve me at all.

  I hate feeling so conflicted. I’m not used to feeling so conflicted. I’d usually run to Dev, snuggle in to him. Listen to him tell me that everything is okay, even if it’s robotic, even if it’s a line he learned to say. But now I don’t have Dev. I’ve lost him too.

  * * *

  * * *

  This goes on for a few days. I keep waiting to hear something from Ali. I wait for her to text me to make it stop. But nothing. Not one thing. Not one apology. Not one I wish you would understand. Not even a mention about Dev, which I know she must have heard about. I see her in the hall, and she looks down. Refuses to even acknowledge that I’m there.

  And it makes me want to strangle her. I used to think that her coldness had to do with what happened to her. But now I see that’s just who she is. A cold bitch. Uncaring. Self-centered.

  I want to make her squirm. I see her in the hallway and stare at her. Walking with Sammi and Raj like they’re so tight. Like I ruined her life. Me.

  * * *

  * * *

  A few days later, Suki makes a hate page. She’s only going to leave it up for six hours. Not long enough for Instagram to flag it. They usually take forty-eight hours to take something down and send out a warning. Someone might snap a screenshot and show it to the school, but what can the school do? If it wasn’t done during school hours, they don’t want to have anything to do with it.

  “This is a punishment, that’s all,” Suki says to me. “Quick and simple.”

  “If she goes to the police, they can get me on witness tampering, you guys,” I say. I’ve watched Law & Order: SVU.

  “If they were making a case against you, they would have brought you in already,” Cate says. “You’re being paranoid, B. She’s not going to the police. Not about you at least.”

  She breathes into me. She wants so bad to please.

  The hate page has three photos. One of Ali with a huge dick attached to her. Another with Sammi standing behind a blown-up photo of Ali. There are burning bushes in the background. They’re maybe the dumbest photos I’ve ever seen. But Ali will be upset. Anyone would be upset. The worst is the third. Suki found a photo of Ali on my phone and stretched her mouth out with an app. Made her look like the Joker. Posted across it. Liar. Backstabber. Jealous bitch.

  “If Ali Greenleaf kills herself,” Donnie says, “we are all in deep shit.”

  “That’s not funny, Donnie.”

  “Wah-wah.” Donnie being her evil self. “It was just a joke.”

  Ali will never speak to me again after this. If she just called me once. Just begged me to end it. If she just threw the goddamned white flag and took me out of the whole story.

  “So evil,” I say. “Do it.”

  * * *

  * * *

  They want to come up with a grand plan for Friday night.

  “Let’s send the SWAT team to her house,” Suki says. “Say she’s suicidal and we can’t get in the door.”

  “No, something to really punish her. Something more humiliating,” Cate says.

  “Words against words,” Donnie says.

  “Isn’t the social media takedown enough?” I say.

  I regret saying this immediately.

  “It’s sweet to see you so caring, B,” Suki says.

  “I’m always caring, bitch.”

  She carefully tucks one of her perfectly straight strands of hair behind her ear. Smooths down her sweet little green top.

  “It’s like a chess game. We don’t want to be pawns,” Suki says. “Haven’t you said that to me a million times, B? Haven’t you?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Friday night. Cate’s driving. We pull up to Donnie’s house once it’s dark. Donnie looks like shit. “Gas attack. Allergies. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she tells us. But she’s slurry. I can tell it’s Vicodin.

  “Someone at the school is going to eventually read that stupid article and shut us down. C-wing is probably my fondest memory of high school,” Cate says, and opens the bottle of vodka she stole from her house. Takes a swig. Her face scrunches up. She passes it on.

  “C-wing is my childhood,” Donnie says.

  “A secret club. A place we could escape from all the crap that goes on during the day,” I say.

  I take a swig of the vodka. The burn comes fast. I pass it on to Suki. Her little sips. Four of them. Then she passes it to Donnie.

  Suki opens the window and sticks her head out. Her straight long brown hair blowing through the wind. “This is for you, C-wing!” she screams while throwing up her fingers in a peace sign as we drive.

  * * *

  * * *

  We huddle in the wind outside Ali’s house between cars. The street is dark. She lives on one of those streets with bad lighting.

  Cate goes first. White spray paint on the street just in front of the car. Ali Greenleaf likes it up the ass. Suki writes in hot pink on the sidewalk. Ali Greenleaf sucks cocks.

  Donnie jumps out in front of the car so she’s in the middle of the street. Ali Greenleaf is a fucking liar.

  “Get out of the street, Donnie,” I say.

  “She’s gonna get caught, B.” Cate’s whole face looks like a squished marshmallow.

  “I’m going to inject you with Xanax if you don’t shut up,” I tell Cate.

  The spray paint is so loud. The zizzz of it. She’s writing more. Letting it all pour out. Slut. Bitch. Liar. Phony. Stalker. Psycho.

  “This was supposed to be a quick thing. One to two minutes. We have to get out of here,” Suki says. She’s starting to make me nervous. If we get caught. If we get caught.

  But that rush. That rush when you’re doing something so wrong. There’s a surge of it through my body. I’m breathless from it.

  “How does it feel to destroy a friendship, Jensen?” Donnie says.

  And I see now. How happy it’s made her. Suddenly, I feel a wave of sadness. How Dev would react to this. He’d be disgusted. He’d be happy that he had broken up with me. Donnie struts back to the car. We hide behind it all together.

  “Classic Jensen. Takes a rookie under her wing and then tears her wings off when the girl isn’t looking.”

  “You’re fucking evil, Donnie.”

  “Jensen’s going to have to send her SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford,” Donnie whispers, smirking.

  “We should get out of here,” I say. But Donnie wants to do one more thing.

  She stares at the house with this empty look and crawls across the grass like a Navy
SEAL.

  “Not close to the house, you idiot,” Suki whispers. “She’s got a death wish, B.”

  “Donnie, get back here,” I say, seething.

  “Just one little thing.”

  A light flicks on across the street. Donnie whips her head around. Her face scared now, seeing that light, and she scrambles back to the car. I open the door, wave her in, and lightly shut it behind her. Cate and Suki are already in the front. Ready to go.

  “Press on the gas, Cate. Make the car go, Cate.”

  “I’m doing it. I’m doing it,” she says, her voice cracking.

  The car is, thankfully, all electric. There’s no sound as she drives off.

  Once we’re far from the house, once it all sinks in that we’re safe, that we’re not going to get caught, Suki lets it all out. “I feel such a sense of accomplishment!” she yells into the night. It’s that adrenaline rush. It should be a freeing feeling like after stealing a pack of gum from a store. Or like the time I stole those jeans without the security tag. You hold it all in, waiting, waiting, and then it comes so fast. At least that’s what should happen.

  What do I feel? I feel a void. Empty. Numb.

  46

  ALI

  I wake up at three A.M. dreaming of bats flying out of a cavern. My mother is standing in front of the entrance inviting me in.

  I sit up in my bed. It’s been a week of harassment from the Core Four. From Blythe’s little crew of minions. Tormenting me on social media to no end. I just keep blocking and blocking. Sammi reported one of their hate pages to Instagram.

  But one goes down and another goes up. Fake account after fake account, messaging me that I’ve stabbed a girl in the back. That I’m not a true friend. That I’m a slut. A liar.

  I ignore them. I stop going on social media altogether. Delete it from my phone. But I think about it nonstop, how much Blythe hates me. Maybe she was right. I didn’t have to mention her in the article, did I? But how could I leave her out? She tried to get me to erase it all. She was trying to get me to see that he was a good person. That he just made a mistake. And that I should live with that mistake forever.