Because of You

by RaShelle Workman

  I’m in shock. Aside from her little speech, I feel like I got off easy. “Th-thank you, Ms. Spears.”

  I go over to the door.

  “I know what’s going on between you and Mr. Hadley. I hear things.” Mrs. Spears pulls open her top drawer and takes out a tube of lipstick.

  My heart is beating fast. Is she saying what I think she is? How can she know what’s going on? That’s private. I’m about to open the door, when she drops the bomb.

  “He’s quite remarkable in bed. Knows how to make a woman feel like there’s no one else in the world. But, like his dad, he isn’t good for much else. Be careful.”

  I gasp, and turn to her. “What?” It’s all I can get out.

  Her arms are crossed, and she has a smirk plastered on her pouty red lips. A wicked gleam in her eyes. “If you repeat what I’ve told you, I’ll deny it and fail you immediately. No amount of pretty piano playing will let you keep your scholarship.” She stands and pats my shoulder. Her features turn melancholy. “I’m telling you this for your own good. Don’t trust him.” Her words are like snake bites. They twist and writhe inside my brain, puncture my heart.

  I pull open the door and am about to run.

  There’s a man in a suit and sunglasses in my way. He pulls off his glasses and gives me a look, like he knows me.

  “S-Sorry,” I say, trying to step around him.

  He blocks my path. “I wonder how innocent you really are?” He gives me a sinister smile.

  My heart beats faster and a fear creeps down my spine. What is he talking about?

  “Let her pass,” Ms. Spears says.

  The man glances above me and toward the professor. “Fine.” He points his first and middle finger at his eyes and then points his first finger at me. “I’m watching you.”

  I want to ask him why, and what is problem is, but the man steps aside and I take the opportunity to run.

  Maddie

  can’t get Ms. Spears’ words out of my head. They seem to swell and grow. I’m sick inside. At the idea that Kyle slept with that woman. Isn’t that against school policy? And it’s gross, in general. Sure she’s physically attractive, still. My stomach twists with disgust. As hard as I try, I can’t stop the thoughts of Kyle doing to her what he did to me. I run into a bathroom and dry heave. The world spins and I realize I need to eat. And then there’s the guy. He was scary.

  After rinsing my mouth, I make my way to the cafeteria. Punch in my code and grab a turkey sandwich. It’s an odd time of day, so the room is relatively empty, less than a dozen students. I sit at my little table, the one I’ve sort of claimed as my own, and stare out the window at the gray sky, and the stark landscape. The clock on my phone tells me it’s almost five. I text Kyle.

  Can’t make it tonight.

  Immediately he texts me back.

  Why? We need to practice.

  I stare at the words. He’s right. It’s important we practice. The president of the college will be at the Winter Gala, as will all of the other department heads. If we don’t play beautifully, they won’t renew my scholarship. But I can’t see him.

  Sorry. Way behind on schoolwork. Still need to speak with three more professors. Tomorrow.

  Fine.

  I finish my sandwich and chug an entire glass of orange juice. Then go back to the room. Gina still isn’t here.

  My room is cozy. I’ve even come to appreciate Gina’s music. I should probably do laundry though. I could wait another week, and take them with me back to my aunt and uncle’s. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She was even grudgingly happy when she found out I had a phone. Of course I didn’t tell her who gave it to me. Gina’s clothes need to be washed as well. I wonder what she’s doing for the break? Maybe she’d want to come with me.

  I text Gina.

  You okay?

  I wait several minutes, and then text again.

  Gina?

  Ten minutes pass, and she still hasn’t responded. I can’t help but be concerned. Especially after the way she acted earlier. To distract myself, I go to my closet and unzip the garment bag. I take out a letter. Zip up the bag and flop down on my bed.

  The letter’s dated June 13th, 2011.

  Dear Maddie,

  I graduated. It’s official. I’m no longer in high school. It feels weird. Like now I’m an adult or something. I wish I could see you, talk to you, but I have a feeling you won’t even read this.

  Shit. It’s killing me not to be able to talk to you. I don’t understand why you won’t respond to one letter. One! What did I do that was so wrong?

  My father died. He’s dead! Killed in the line of duty. Shot in the head. A couple of guys at the precinct told me his death was like an execution. There was an investigation, but nothing was discovered.

  Death benefits for the Chief of Police’s offspring, yours truly, aren’t bad. I receive a monthly stipend from the state. They are also paying for college. It’s appreciated, helps a lot, but doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone.

  And I hear things. From kids at school. Another reason I’m so damn happy to be graduated. If I never see the inside of BS HIGH SCHOOL again, it’ll be too soon.

  The rumors say my dad was crooked. Into drugs. Shady dealings with the local mafia. One girl even told me he approached her to sell drugs at the school. He told her either she sold the drugs or went to juvie. As soon as he died, she quit. I don’t know what to believe. I can’t imagine him doing the things I’ve heard, but I also know he could be a complete ass.

  He wasn’t around a lot. And when he was… well, you know. He could be difficult. Still, not a drug trafficking murderer.

  My dad tossed around the football with me once in a while. Gave me a beer. Laughed at random TV shows I liked to watch.

  If that’s why you won’t talk to me, I wanted you to know. He’s gone. And I’m sorry.

  What are you doing this summer?

  I’m going to Mexico with my aunt and uncle and my cousin. We’ll be there at least a month. My cousin says his dad has business there, but that he and I will get to hang at the beach every day. I’m going to learn how to surf and hopefully not get eaten by a shark.

  If I stop sending letters, you’ll know why.

  Maddie. Maddie. Maddie. I have all of these feelings inside. For you. I’m not sure if it’s because you won’t talk to me and I’m making stuff up in my head. Or if I’ve felt this way since before you left, but didn’t recognize it.

  Remember when you and I made the pact to be each other’s first? I kept that promise for a long, long time. But it happened. An alcohol buzz can make a person’s needs change. And I’ve been drinking a lot. Had more than my fair share. That’s for damn sure.

  Forgive me for that too. And if you don’t read this letter, then I guess it doesn’t matter.

  Kyle.

  I read the letter several times. So many, many times until it feels like it’s been tattooed to my brain. I’m devastated for him. That he had to go through so much. A part of me wishes I could go back in time and help ease his suffering. But I’m not sure how things would’ve played out had I stayed. I might’ve hated him after a while. Seeing him play football with his dad in the yard, knowing my parents were buried in the cemetery, and wouldn’t ever play again. I don’t know that we could’ve remained friends. I’m not sure I could’ve looked at him, day in and day out. Watching his father walking around as though he’d done nothing wrong. Living.

  In a lot of ways it was better I didn’t see Chief Hadley. His absence made life if not bearable, then at least manageable.

  I fold the letter, and put it back in the envelope, then stick it in the garment bag and pull out another. I cut open the envelope, and am about to pull out the letter when Gina walks in.

  She looks haggard. Her makeup is smeared, and her clothes are a mess.

  “Hi,” I say, edging off the bed.

  She barely acknowledges me.

  “Gina?” I say her name like a question. “What’s going on?” />
  She seems tired, and I’m a little bummed. I want to talk to her about Kyle. A lot’s happened. But she pulls her pillow over her head. I sigh. Pick up my books, pull on my jacket. “If you feel up to it, I’ll be at the library. Come by.”

  The library is deathly quiet. About twenty feet from the entrance is the main desk. It’s large and rests in the shape of a half circle. An elderly lady is working behind it, with curly white hair and cat’s-eye glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. There is an additional information desk in the Law section, and another upstairs in the Classics section. That’s where I’m heading. Bitchy Spears said make it great, and I have this idea to do a comparison between the themes portrayed in The Great Gatsby and the current state of America.

  I climb the steps, hanging on to the wood railing. At the top is a large landing. Oak desks are aligned with the bookshelves. No one else is around. I make my way over to the shelf containing the book I’m looking for. It’s on the very bottom. There were three copies the last time I looked. Now there’s only two. I pull it from the shelf and am about to stand when I hear whispering.

  I freeze. The voice sounds familiar, but I don’t know why.

  “I don’t care what you told her. You need to stay away from her.”

  There’s a response, but the voice is too low. I can’t tell what is said, or even if it’s a male or female. The sound could barely be considered muttering.

  “Revenge is a difficult pill to swallow. Don’t think I don’t know that, but you can’t let her figure out the truth.”

  More whispering.

  “I’ll discuss it with my uncle.”

  Then it’s quiet. I stand slowly. My heart is pounding rapidly. I want to run, but I’m trapped. I’m thinking the voice I recognize belongs to Evan, Kyle’s cousin, but I can’t be sure.

  After several minutes, I peer out the side. Evan is standing there, his hands on his hips, a strange look in his eyes. “What are you doing up here, Pudgy Mudgy?”

  I hate that name even more than my real one, and can’t believe he’s using it. I hold the book up in front of me, like a shield. “I came for this.”

  He sighs and walks forward.

  My body is trembling. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he places one foot in front of the other. His actions remind me of something. Of another time. But I can’t recall when.

  Evan tucks his hands in his back pockets. “You always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  I suck in a breath. What is he saying?

  He turns, and walks toward the stairs. Before he starts down, he adds. “That habit can get a girl in trouble.”

  Then he’s gone.

  My body is shaking uncontrollably. He threatened me. And it wasn’t even subtle. I pull out a chair and sit.

  What do I do? What can I do? And why did he behave that way? I’ve never done anything to him. I don’t really know him. Whatever his reason, I don’t have the answers. Not yet. And I have work to do.

  Grabbing my stuff, I head down to the computer rooms. I pick the first room that’s empty and close the door. It doesn’t lock though. There are two chairs inside. I take one and place it under the doorknob, copying what Kyle did to the doorknob in the music room yesterday. It makes me feel a little better—a tiny bit safer.

  I pull out my cell. Stare at it. I want to talk to Kyle, tell him what’s happened, but I’m not sure how to approach the topic, what to say. Evan is his cousin. They’re family. I know that means something to him. And who am I? What am I to him? A long lost friend. Someone he cares about, but I’m not his family.

  If it came to choosing me or choosing his family, there would be no reason to pick me. I stare at the phone. I stare at it for what seems like hours.

  Finally, I text Gina.

  I’m worried about you.

  I wait an eternity for a response that doesn’t come. I work on my paper. Type, edit, use parallels between the present and the time written about in The Great Gatsby. When I’m finally happy with it, I look at the clock on my phone. The library closes in five minutes.

  I still haven’t read the next letter, and I pull it from my pocket. It’s short. A total of seven words.

  Dear Maddie,

  I love you.

  Always,

  Kyle

  I stare at it until I notice droplets of water falling onto the paper. I touch the wetness with my fingers and realize it’s coming from me. I’m crying.

  It’s been a long time since I cried.

  The elderly librarian knocks on the door. Scares the shit out of me. I scream and practically fall off my chair. She’s looking at me through the window, tapping on her watch.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.”

  Maddie

  t’s late. Dark outside. The wind howls through the trees. A light smattering of snow sticks to the ground and flakes whip against my face, making my eyes water. I hunch against my books and the cold, walking quickly.

  No one is out. Lights from the streetlamps show me the way, and I’m grateful.

  I quickly make my way across campus and take a back street, a shortcut to Irvine Hall. There’s a small light on a door leading into the cafeteria. Other than that it’s dark. And so cold. I walk faster, feeling my body tremble with the cold and the wet of the snow.

  A shadow steps in front of me, about ten feet away. I skid to a stop, then think better of it and start moving again. My dad always taught me never to show fear. I take inventory of what I have, what I can use as a weapon. My choices are limited: an iPod, a book, and some paper.

  Dammit, I think, berating myself. If my dad knew I took a back street at night, by myself, he’d be furious. I’m only three feet away, but can’t see the shadow’s face. He’s wearing a hoodie, the hood pulled over his head. I move to the far side of the street and turn my face to look at him. It’s Evan.

  He reaches around and grabs my shoulders. “Are you sure you’re the daughter of a cop?” he asks, his voice liquid smooth.

  I try to shrug him off, but he holds tight. “What do you want, Evan?”

  He shrugs. “It’s simple. Don’t mess with my boy. I know the two of you have that piano duet thing happening in a few months. Fine. Whatever. But keep your slutty, low-life mitts to yourself. Got it?”

  The tight fear in my chest changes to fury. “How dare you? Who do you think you are?” I shove him away with my fists. Unable to believe he’s talking like he knows anything about me.

  He grabs my elbow, making my stuff fall to the ground. My iPod bounces and shatters. I shove him again. He pulls me toward him and I go for the groin, but he easily turns so that I make contact with his hip. Then he backhands me, sending me to the ground. I’m on my hands and knees, forcing the tears from my eyes.

  He kneels beside me. “I watched my cousin suffer for years after you left. All I could think was good riddance, but he mourned for you, with you, when your parents were killed, and you never responded.

  “Here’s the thing. Yes, he’s family, but because you’re back in his life he’s asking questions about your parents. Questions I can’t answer. But I’ll tell you what I told him. Your parents were low-life snitches. Chose the wrong people to be loyal to. They betrayed Kyle’s father. And that kind of treachery isn’t looked at with any kind of leniency.” He grabs me by the neck and lifts me to eye level. “So you want to know who I am? I’m the guy who will kill you at a moment’s notice without batting a fucking eyelash.” He pushes me back and I hit my head on the concrete. Instant pain explodes behind my eyes. I blink back tears and watch as Evan picks up a piece of paper. I know instantly it’s Kyle’s letter. “Keep your legs closed and your lips sealed, Pudgy.” He squeezes his fingers against the thumb on his left hand. “Or I’ll do more than kill your sorry ass, I’ll kill the rest of your family, and…” He yanks on my hair. “I’ll be forced to kill my cousin.”

  “No. No. No. No. No.” I repeat the word over and over. Angry. Hurt. Anxious to know what he’s talkin
g about. My dad was a good man.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” Evan mocks, interrupting my internal voice. “And I’ll give you a front row seat on the performance.”

  “You wouldn’t kill him.” I take a deep breath. Choke on something wet. “What would be the point?”

  Evan yanks my hair so hard I think it’s going to come out. “Kyle is my cousin, yes. But I have obligations that go beyond family. And if you screw up my plans—their plans—it’ll be all I have left to do. It’ll be your fault.”

  He tosses the letter at me. An edge smacks me in the lip and I feel it split.

  “Are we clear?” he asks, his face next to mine.

  I nod.

  He presses his thumb into my lip, splitting it more. I let out a wounded cry. “I’m going to have to hear you say it. So there are no misunderstandings.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He starts to walk back the way I came. “Catch ya later, Pudgy Mudgy.”

  I wait until he turns the corner, and then pick up the letter, the pieces to my broken iPod, and my other things. The book and my papers are wet. I’m going to have to redo them. Otherwise Ms. Spears won’t consider it my best effort. When I’ve got everything, I quickly make my way to the room. I’m shaking uncontrollably.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Gina asks, climbing off her bed. I drop my stuff on my bed and stand there, too afraid, too terrified to say anything. I can’t tell her about Evan. I can’t tell her any of it. She wraps a blanket around my shoulders. “You’re freezing,” she adds, tucking the blanket over my hands. “I’m going to take you to the emergency room.”

  “No. Hell, no. No doctors.” I shuddered at the idea.

  “Maddie, you’re a mess. You need to get checked out.”

  I start to shake my head no, but it hurts too much. “I need to rest, that’s it. I’m fine.” The idea that Evan might hurt her if I say too much or the wrong thing terrifies me.

  “Are you sure?” She looks unconvinced by my choice.

  “Yes, positive,” I say and taste blood on my lips.