by Holly Hood
“I say bikini,” Tucker commented from the peanut gallery.
Campbell laughed along with the class.
“I like to make my class fun. Sociology is the time to talk about everything. Nothing is off limits in here.” She moved to Campbell, handing her a paper. “My only rule is whatever goes on in here does not leave here.”
I couldn’t believe the school would hire such a slack teacher. This was becoming more and more bizarre by the minute.
I raised a hand. “So if Tommy wanted to bring beer to school, that would be okay?”
The class laughed, finding me amusing yet again today. Tucker slid his bean bag next to me, his leg pressing against my knee. “I think what she’s saying is this is the class to learn and have fun. She doesn’t make rules as long as we act like civilized human beings.” He shot a smile at Mrs. Long.
“That’s right, Tuck. Oh, and one other thing.” She ran a hand through her sun bleached hair “Don’t piss me off and we will be just fine. If you don’t believe me, ask my husband.” Her eyes met mine and held them for a couple seconds before she formed a dainty little smile.
I looked at the clock, begging it to speed up and get me away from this woman.
School was over for the day and I was glad. Eight periods full of all kinds of teachers. I was glad tomorrow was a day off. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to such a unique school. I gathered my clothes from the locker room of my dance class. The one Lynette, Tucker’s mom, taught. She was probably my only means of sanity in this school. She was so warm and sweet.
“Good job today, Hope,” she told me, spraying disinfectant on the rails.
I zipped up my bag, coming back into the classroom. “Thanks.”
She did a fast swipe down the rail. “Are you enjoying school?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know yet, it’s the first day.”
She nodded, agreeing with me. “Well, if you ever need anything I’m always here for you. You show a lot of promise as a dancer.”
I said goodbye, pushing out the school doors into the warm sunshine. I felt like I was immersed in artificial sun all day and finally back in real life.
Lydia and Campbell drove past me as I walked down the sidewalk. I was almost the last of the kids to leave. The only ones left were the kids busy in the library looking for books to read.
Someone let out a loud cat call. I turned to see Tucker leaning against his jeep with a couple friends. He waved me over. I had really hoped he’d left. I was content on the walk home. I was craving the walk home, actually.
“It’s okay, I think I’ll walk,” I said, giving a weak smile. I did my best to pass by without any eye contact. The less I looked at him, the better chance of getting off the hook.
Tucker pushed off the jeep. He quickly got in front of me, blocking my path. I nearly stepped on his toes, coming to a stop. “Tucker, its really okay. I could use the fresh air.” I tried going around him, but he only grabbed my arm, his hand sliding down to mine, and then he slipped his fingers between mine. Another rush of butterflies whirled inside me.
“Then I guess I’m walking too.” He told his friends goodbye, following me along the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, just let me walk. Finally, I gave in with a sigh. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“My mother told me to always be nice to pretty girls,” he said teasingly.
My mind was back to the brief couple of seconds that we were holding hands. No matter what I tried I couldn’t get it out of my head. He knew how to drive a girl mad.
“No, seriously, why are you always so nice to me?” I had to have an answer. Not some flirtatious joke. I wanted an answer. I was new in town, but my emotions weren’t. I had absolutely no experience when it came to boys and relationship type stuff. But I did have common sense, or so I thought.
Tucker ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just trying to get to know you. Maybe that’s just who I am.”
I looked at him, searching for sincerity. “Honest?”
He nodded, looking genuine enough, or maybe it was the stunningly good looks blinding my perception. “I like that you’re not from here. I like that you’re the new girl who has no idea about me. It’s a relief.”
I smiled. I really liked that answer.
“So, once I walk you home, how about I come back by with my jeep and we can go get ice cream,” he said as we hit the beach, the beach houses minutes away.
“Alright, sounds good. Gives me a chance to tell Dad where I’ll be too,” I agreed. I had to admit, I was a bit excited to be doing anything with Tucker.
“Okay. So I’ll see you in about ten minutes.” He took off, running across the sand back toward the school.
Smitty’s was the popular hangout on the shore for teens. All the kids came to Smitty’s for frozen yogurt, ice cream or hamburgers. It wasn’t much to look at, not big enough to go inside. It was a small hut with about five picnic tables with red and white striped umbrellas.
I ran my tongue across my ice cream. The heat was making it melt quickly and I didn’t want to be a sticky mess. Tucker handed over a handful of napkins, sitting down next to me on the picnic table.
“I swear I’m not looking.” He laughed, working on his cone with intensity. He straddled the bench, leaving me between his legs. I didn’t mind, it felt nothing more than normal anymore to be in close proximity to Tucker.
I rolled my eyes, doing my best to hurriedly eat. Now that the topic was back to my tongue I was starting to feel a bit shy all over again.
“So what did you do back home?” Tucker questioned. I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, making sure I wasn’t messy before I answered.
“A lot of dance lessons, played the piano and hung out with my best friend, Karsen.” I trailed my finger around the edge of my cone, collecting the melted ice cream and licking it from my finger.
Tucker’s eyes lit up as he watched my every move. “Are you going to show me your moves?” he smirked teasingly.
“I only dance with boys that have rhythm.” I smiled.
He moved a little closer, his inner thigh close enough that I could feel the heat from his skin, “Ask anyone, I have rhythm.”
My heart skipped a beat as his lips grazed my ear. He quickly retreated, trying not to lay it on too thick. His arm rested on the table as he worked his lips on the ice-cream, making me a little hot and bothered now.
I pushed my hair away from my face. “What do you do here, anything exciting?”
He finally made it to the end of his ice cream, biting into his cone aggressively as his eyes watched me. “I work at my dad’s office. I surf and I play basketball near my house.”
I nodded, balling my napkin in my fist. He sounded pretty normal. These were all things I could see someone like him doing. “What’s your dad do?” I stuffed my napkin down inside the soggy ice cream cone; I was never one for cones.
“My father is the mayor of Cherry. And he also owns several big businesses around these parts.” Tucker nodded as if I knew what he was talking about.
“Interesting,” I muttered.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if your father doesn’t work under my dad.”
I raised an eyebrow. “My father works for Nona’s boyfriend Claude.” I shrugged. It really didn’t matter.
“Claude works for my father.” Tucker smirked, glad he was right.
I didn’t act impressed, although he didn’t seem to be trying to impress me.
Tucker sprang up from his seat, taking his trash to the garbage can. He held his hand out for me to toss my garbage to him, which I did with a lot of effort behind it. I wanted to prove, at least once, he wasn’t so good at everything that he did, but he caught it.
A group of guys walked up to the window obstructing my view of Tucker. I picked at the peeling paint on the picnic table waiting for him to return. A strong gust of wind blew off the water, making my skin spring a million goose bumps.
“Aww... You look cold, Hope,” Tucker said from beh
ind me. He ran his hands up and down my arms playfully. I turned to face him.
“I wish I had a jacket or something for you.” He smiled at me. I smiled back.
“Darn,” I said sarcastically.
He pulled the back of his shirt up and off. Several girls behind us let out audible moans of satisfaction, even a few older women passing us on the boardwalk.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” I said as he tossed the shirt in my lap. And as I slid the shirt on, I spotted him. Slade. He was with that group of guys, waiting in line. We made subtle eye contact, Tucker pulled me up and forward, pulling me toward the boardwalk. I wondered why he was always hanging in groups, and why he had never come around again.
I gave a wave as we hit the boardwalk. Tucker followed my wave, letting out an unrecognizable noise. A cross between a groan and pain.
“What?” I asked, following him along.
He jerked his head. “Those kids are bad news.”
I looked back to make sure he saw who I saw. It was obvious he was talking about Slade, everyone always talked about him, and never good.
“Why do you think so?”
“A couple of them used to go to Ashwilder. I’m sure it’s nothing you heard about yet, but they were kicked out for some really bad reasons.” Tucker scratched his head. “I was friends with them.”
My heart ached to know if he was referring to Slade. There was just something about him that made me wonder. “I met Slade when I first moved here. We watched the concert past my house. He wasn’t a bad guy. A little dark and moody, but he wasn’t bad. Why does everyone act like he’s awful?”
Tucker cleared his throat. He jumped off the path, walking across the sand toward some really expensive beach houses, ones that even Nona and Claude didn’t live in.
“Slade and Erica Andrews are brother and sister. Erica was an amazing singer until she went batty. And Slade, well, there were allegations against him that are nothing to sneeze at.”
Tucker and I were nearing the dark green beach house now and I was slowly feeling creeped out. “Allegations?”
Tucker punched a code into a key pad, opening up the iron gate. “Serious offenses. Things that would scare the life out of you.”
I sighed. “Just tell me.”
He shut the gate, pressing another code. “Rape.” He shot me a look to see if I was still with him. Probably hoping I hadn’t run away in fear, maybe.
“No, why would he rape anyone. I’m sure he doesn’t have problems getting girls.” I shut my mouth, blushing at my admittance.
Tucker unlocked the glass door, a smell of lavender wafted past my nose.
“Anaya Young was her name. She came here our freshman year. Her parents both worked for some boating and fishing company that started up out here. She started hanging around at the concerts and with Erica and Slade.” He pulled two cokes from the refrigerator, setting them down on the marble countertop in the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed my surroundings, my ears were warm and at full attention, nothing around me was even registering at this point.
“She was an amazing singer. Anyways. Slade and Anaya were seen around town from time to time together. Everyone assumed maybe they liked each other, but even when I asked him about Anaya he would only give me an angry glare and not want to discuss it.
“A week before the school dance she just never showed back up to school. My mom was worried, so she called Anaya’s parents.” I gripped the table, Tucker was extremely serious and growing more and more somber as he explained everything to me. “Anaya’s parents had no clue she had been missing, the last they knew she had left a note saying she was spending the night with Erica. Erica went MIA and Slade ended up down at the police station once Anaya showed back up. Word spread around school that she was found at the concert, bruised and battered. That someone had sexually assaulted her for days.”
Tucker rubbed at his neck nervously. I nodded my head for him to go on, I could take it. “By the time cops got around to questioning Slade and Erica, they found her body along the shore. Some jogger saw her feet poking out from behind some rocks and seaweed.”
I gasped, clutching my chest in horror. “Did she ever say what happened to her before that?”
“She was traumatized. I mean, come on, do you think it would be that easy to talk after some guy forced himself on you for days?” Tucker shot me a look.
“Well, no, I guess not. But what makes you think it was Slade?” I asked. Just because this Anaya had hung around Slade didn’t mean he was guilty of rape and murder. “And why didn’t anyone put him in jail then? There’s DNA and forensics for all of that.”
Tucker scoffed as if I was silly and wrong for even arguing against the idea. “No one knows what happened that night besides Anaya and whoever did it to her. But both of them Andrews were acting awful guilty. Erica flipped out in school, nearly killed another girl for mentioning it, and Slade decked Mr. Rudner in the hallway for no reason that any of us knew of. Just hauled off and punched him. And seeing the cops and school couldn’t prove anything, they just expelled him permanently.”
“That’s a really messed up story. It sounds like they were angry, maybe they cared about this Anaya and they were angry, did anyone think about that?” I cracked open my pop.
Tucker ran his hand across the marble. “No one had time to think much of anything. They tossed all the boulders along the shore blocking the concert grounds from all of us and a town meeting was called warning all parents and kids to steer clear of the park and, most importantly, the band.”
“Evil kings, you mean?” I asked, catching on a little.
“You guessed it. A bunch of the kids around here have ties to them. Their parents and grandparents or something have always been running around in this band. Dad likes to call it a “satanic cult.” I say it’s just bad music and a band of misfits.” He popped his drink open, taking a swig. “The Ashwilder rejects, the kids who weren’t good enough to make it at our school, that’s where they go.”
I stared off, lost in thought. It was a lot to take in. To think if it was true, I had willingly spent the night with a boy who had possibly raped and murdered an innocent girl. My stomach hurt suddenly.
“I’ll be back. Where’s your bathroom?” I stared around the room, feeling uneasy. Tucker walked into the hallway. He opened up the first door on the right, snapping on the light.
I gave a smile before shutting the door. I let out a huge sigh, going to the sink and running the cold water. No one back home had ever done anything as bad as get into a two minute scuffle in a front yard where I was from. And once Natalie Angler shop lifted at the carryout on the corner, her mother had whipped her in front of God and everyone, and no cops were even called. Going from that to rape and murder made me feel ill.
I immersed my hands in the water, taking in the coolness on my fingertips. I cupped my hands, bringing some of the water to my face. I patted my face quickly, enjoying the shock. Finally, my heart returned to its normal rhythm.
I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror, making sure I still looked halfway decent. I opened up the drawers searching for a hand towel. The only thing in the first one was a couple of playboys and a pack of cigarettes. I scrunched my nose, moving to the next drawer. I covered my mouth at the sight of several packs of condoms and a couple bars of soap. Who kept condoms in their bathroom drawer?
The third drawer rolled open silently, a pill bottle rolling to the front of the drawer. I poked at it with my finger trying not to be nosy. Everett Sinclair was the patient on the bottle. Thorazine was the drug prescribed.
I carefully shut the drawer and settled on wiping my hands on my shorts. Seconds later I realized there was a whole cabinet housing dark red hand towels and washcloths.
If I had only looked a little higher, I thought.
I hurried down the hall back to Tucker. I was just going to have to let things be. Who was I to think one way or another about someone I barely knew. I told myself I would be careful, that
I wouldn’t be stupid anymore. The next time Slade came around I would make sure I wasn’t alone.
That seemed judging.
I would make sure I felt him out next time before I was alone with him again. I wasn’t going to be that crazy, all-assuming girl who judged someone before they really knew them. But I did know that I would be careful at all times, anymore, period. If it wasn’t Slade that meant it could have been anyone, and that meant that anyone could be still lurking around after killing Anaya.
Tucker was sitting at the table in the kitchen. A large kitchen with shiny well polished appliances and shiny black tiles on the floor. Expensive pots and pans hung overhead, and several stoves were lining the walls. I wondered who wanted so many stoves in their kitchen. We had one and we barely used it.
“Want to take a walk?” Tucker asked.
I nodded. “Sure, sounds good. Whose place is this? I don’t see your mom anywhere.”
“My dad’s, but he only comes here occasionally, usually when he is trying to get away from my stepmom, Anita.” Tucker smirked at the thought of it. I smiled as well. A whole house just to escape. That was the life.
The beach was a little less crowded, only one couple remained. I wondered where they all went. Tucker pulled off his sandals, lobbing them back at the house. I could tell he was completely comfortable on this beach. We made it a little further toward the water, coming to a stop at an old log, its wood bleached from the sun. Tucker took a seat first, I followed.
“I should take you out and teach you how to surf sometime.” He stared out at the water, the waves violently crashing against the shore.
“I never tried and I don’t think I would ever want to.” I hugged my arms to my body, a little chilled. I had given him his shirt back on the way to his house assuring him I was a big girl and able to withstand the weather.
“It would be fun, I swear it.” He poked my arm playfully, pushing his body against mine in a playful bump.
I bumped him back. “I’m afraid of the ocean,” I admitted.
