Girls with Razor Hearts

by Suzanne Young

  “Okay,” Raven says. “One more point on this Anton issue—”

  “Anton?” Jackson repeats, turning to me. “The analyst guy from the academy?”

  “Very same,” Marcella says, grabbing a slice of pizza.

  “We heard his voice in our heads,” Brynn adds. Jackson stares at her, before shifting his eyes to me.

  “Once,” I say. “Okay—twice,” I clarify. Jackson opens his mouth in that “aha” look of understanding, although he’s obviously confused. I explain to him what we heard and the receiving signal we may be inadvertently sending out. He nods along, maybe a little bothered at the idea of our brains being the equivalent of girl GPS systems. When I’m done talking, he exhales.

  “Actually,” he says, “this kind of ties into why I’m here.”

  “That’s not good,” Annalise murmurs around her next bite of pizza.

  “I got a call from Quentin earlier,” Jackson says. “He went by Innovations Academy to check on things. He sort of took over my post.”

  “He did?” Annalise asks, her voice softening.

  “Well, yeah,” Jackson says. “I mean, he’s worried about all of you too.” This makes Annalise smile, even as she tries to hide it.

  “Anyway,” Jackson continues. “He saw a couple of fancy cars parked out front. He was concerned, but then he saw several girls being ushered outside. And honestly, neither of us had seen a single girl before that. But there they were.”

  “How did they look?” Brynn asks, her eyes welling up.

  “Fine,” Jackson says, sounding a bit confused. “Pretty, I guess—they were dressed up. They were with that other woman. The killing one.”

  “Leandra,” Marcella says. Jackson nods.

  “But there was something else,” he continues. “Something that stood out.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “There … There were no men,” he says. “No teachers. No headmaster or whatever. It was just Leandra and the girls.” He looks around. “Quentin wondered where she was taking them.”

  “Maybe she got the others out,” Brynn suggests. “Just like she promised.”

  “Without calling us?” Annalise says. “No, she would have contacted us. And besides, with Anton sending signals, something’s still going on at that school.” Her expression clouds. “Something horrible, I’m sure,” she finishes under her breath.

  Sydney takes my hand, but I notice Raven shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

  “We have to find our girls,” Brynn says worriedly. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

  “I agree,” I say. “But first, we have to take care of our mission. We’re so close now. Then … Then we’ll find the others.”

  I wait until we all agree, and then I rest back on the couch. We have to finish this.

  “There’s also Ridgeview,” Sydney says, licking a drop of pizza sauce from her fingers. “We need to deal with those boys.”

  “Speaking of,” Raven says, looking from me to Sydney, “I heard what happened to you both at school today. It’s total bullshit.”

  “Yeah,” Sydney agrees. “But I’m not mad that I’ll never see the place again.”

  “Wait,” Jackson says, turning to me. “What happened at school?”

  “I got expelled for breaking a lunch tray over a boy’s head,” I tell him.

  He pauses. “Oh.”

  “To be fair,” I add, “he was harassing a girl in the cafeteria. I had to stop him.”

  Jackson smiles a little. “Good for you, then,” he says. “I hope you knocked him out.”

  We go on to tell them the details, the horrifying realizations about the school and the vice principal. The invite from Lyle to go to his party later with the promise that Garrett won’t be there.

  “The entire school culture is out of control,” I say. “If we don’t stop these boys from behaving badly in high school, what are they going to become later in life?”

  “Supreme Court Justices,” Marcella mutters across from me.

  “Mena,” Raven says, drawing my attention. “It’s worse than you think. I started looking into your school. I hacked into forums, ones that were password protected. The boys have been doing more than casual lunchtime harassment. They have … posts and pictures. Scorecards. It goes back years. It’s a Ridgeview tradition.”

  “Bastards,” Annalise says, baring her teeth.

  “Then what do we do?” Marcella demands. “We have to stop them.”

  “What if we get them to admit it on tape?” I ask. “The party tonight at Lyle’s, a few of the boys will be there.”

  “That’s great,” Marcella says. “But it’s not like they’re just going to tell us everything they’ve done. I’ve seen the news. They’ll just lie.”

  “I can leak a story about the harassment going on at school to the New York Times,” Raven offers.

  Now there’s something we didn’t think of.

  “They’ll print it?” I ask.

  “No,” Raven says, shaking her head. “Not without more proof. Right now, there’s only some anonymous posts. It’s still just your word against that boy’s.”

  “Then why does his word mean more?” I ask.

  “Because he has a dick,” Raven replies easily. “Trust me when I say you could have sixty female accusers and some people will still call them all liars. The process is deeply flawed.”

  “Then what’s the point?” Marcella asks bitterly. She looks around at all of us. “What’s the point of continuing to seek justice if it’s never given? Why even contact the press?”

  “To get the conversation started,” Raven says. “Then we’ll follow it up with proof. That’s the thing …” She holds my gaze. “It’s about persistence. Yes, we have to fight harder to be heard, but if we keep shouting, they’ll eventually listen.”

  I snap my fingers. “Adrian,” I say. “You mentioned witnesses. Well, she’s in my class, and she’s the one Garrett was harassing in the cafeteria. The vice principal said no girls have ever filed a complaint, but maybe … maybe she would. It can be part of the story you send to the Times. And maybe she could convince other girls to do the same.”

  Raven looks wary. “It sucks,” she says. “What she’ll have to go through will suck, so don’t be upset if she says no.”

  The comment hurts me because I know Raven is right. Adrian will face an onslaught of harassment for complaining about harassment. I’m starting to see that it’s how the system survives—intimidating victims. Otherwise, society would have to change. It’s easier to play along.

  “Then keep her out of it,” Marcella says. “We’ll handle it. We’re not human. We don’t have to play by their rules.”

  “Can, um … Can I make a suggestion?” Jackson asks, seeming embarrassed to interrupt.

  “Why don’t you let us handle things while you … you do whatever it is you’re good at,” Raven tells him.

  “He’s good at sticking around,” Marcella says, flashing Jackson a smile.

  “Thanks,” he replies good-naturedly.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask him, curious.

  “Well, I’m thinking you’re charming. Beautiful. Smart.”

  “Is this going somewhere?” Raven interrupts.

  “It is,” Jackson replies, still watching me. “Mena, you don’t need to convince all those guys. You just need the most important one. Get him to own up to it and the rest will fall in line. They’ll want his approval.”

  “Boys are so easily led?” Sydney asks.

  “Some of them,” Jackson says. “They want someone to look up to. If you have a guy who’s claiming to be that hero, they’ll trust him. They’ll trust him more than they’ll trust you.”

  “The human boy makes a good point,” Marcella says. Jackson gives her an amused but quizzical look before turning back to me.

  “Is there a guy like that?” he asks me. “One at the top of the food chain?”

  “That would be Jonah Grant,” I say. “They all listen
to him. And he’ll be at the party tonight,” I say.

  “Then so will you,” Marcella says.

  “And me,” Sydney adds.

  “Oh, can I go?” Brynn asks.

  “We’ll all go,” Marcella says. “Just in case.”

  “Thanks,” Annalise says. “But I’ll stay here. Jackson has given me all the male interaction I need for the day.”

  He looks at her. “Good?”

  “Sure,” she replies. “You brought pizza.”

  “Wait,” Brynn starts, confused, “if we get the boys to admit what they’ve done, admit to being predators … then we …?”

  “We kill them,” Annalise finishes for her, reaching over to pat her leg.

  “What?” Jackson asks, wide-eyed.

  “Kidding,” Annalise whispers to him, sounding like she’s only half joking.

  “I know a reporter,” Raven interjects. “Mena, let me see your phone.”

  Jackson points in Annalise’s general direction. “Are we not going to address that comment, or … ?”

  I hand Raven my phone, and she pulls out the SIM card. She grabs her backpack and sets it on the coffee table. As she begins to remove small boxes and items, I lean forward.

  “Although I’d love to think Jonah will just admit everything,” I tell the girls, “I don’t think it will be that easy. I doubt he’ll take responsibility at all. And he certainly won’t help us convince the other boys.”

  “I have an idea,” Marcella says. “We go to the party, and while we distract the other guests, Mena has a moment alone with Jonah where she tries to get him to confess.”

  Jackson winces. “Please don’t make her talk to him alone.”

  “I’ll be with her,” Sydney says. She motions for Marcella to continue.

  “If Jonah doesn’t admit to anything on his own,” Marcella explains, “get him to confess unwittingly, strain his ego. His patience. Something will work. Then, we use his confession to convince the other boys that he turned on him.” She smiles broadly, wrapping it up.

  “That’s so smart,” Brynn says.

  “I saw it on Law and Order,” Marcella admits.

  “Here,” Raven says, holding my phone out to me. “I installed a recorder. It’ll stream everything directly to my computer. Once you’re done, we’ll submit the highlights to the paper anonymously.”

  I take the phone, looking it over. Then I slip it inside my pocket.

  “You don’t need to base it on Law and Order,” Raven says. “Just go to the party, ask about the incident at lunch, and get eyewitness accounts. Ask about past events. I have no doubt one of them will overshare. Judging by the posts they’ve put up, they’re proud. We can use whatever recording you get for the reporter to expand upon. By the time the story runs its course, the vice principal will be dismissed, and the school will have to deal with the fallout. We might even suggest their financial disclosures get a closer look.”

  “Which could expose the investor,” I say, making the connection. “Crimes unrelated to the corporation, but still.”

  “Exactly,” Raven says. “It might get the school’s assets frozen, which in turn would cut off the flow of money to Innovations. Expose the laundering scheme. Once I have the recordings, I’ll pass them on to a few female reporters, the ones who are actually interested in justice despite repeated death threats.”

  “Death threats?” I ask.

  “The joys of being a female public figure,” Raven says sarcastically.

  “She’s not wrong,” Jackson says.

  “Oh, thank you,” Raven replies. Her hostility toward him seems strangely placed.

  Raven types a few things on her computer before setting it aside. She rests her elbows on her knees.

  “Before we do anything else,” she says, “we need to get that tracker signal out of your heads. And while I’m there, I’ll put in a firewall.”

  I thought I would be able to let her install the software, but when she looks directly at me, I’m not so sure anymore.

  “Wait,” Jackson says, looking from Raven to me. “You’re going to let a hacker inside your programming? I mean, wouldn’t that kind of be letting a bank robber into the vault?”

  “Depends what you’re worried I’m going to steal, Jackson,” Raven replies.

  Jackson studies her, concern radiating from him. He leans toward me.

  “Just consider all your options,” he says to me quietly. I look at Raven.

  “If I say yes to this procedure,” I begin, “it would give you complete access to my programming and my memories, right? My entire existence. Essentially … you’d see my soul.”

  Raven doesn’t hesitate. “That’s correct,” she says. Annalise looks over, surprised, but Raven doesn’t acknowledge her stare.

  “I’d have access to your entire self,” Raven continues. “You’d have to trust me.”

  The room falls quiet until Sydney sighs loudly. “Do mine first,” she announces. I look sideways at her and see that she’s scared. But she knows that I’m not ready, so she’s volunteering to ease my worry.

  “What?” Sydney asks me with a shrug. “You think I’m going to let you get overwritten alone?”

  “To be clear,” Raven says, “I’m not overwriting anyone. Just installing a firewall.”

  Sydney laughs through her nerves and gets up to take a spot on the couch closer to Raven.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say.

  “Sure,” Sydney agrees. “But I’ll be happy to never hear Anton’s voice again.”

  Annalise abruptly stands and leaves the room. Marcella and I exchange a confused look.

  “Jackson, can you please help me in the kitchen?” Annalise calls as she begins to run the sink.

  “I’ll, uh …” Jackson stands. “I’ll see what Annalise wants while you …” He looks warily at Raven before turning back to me. “While you get started, I guess.”

  I thank him, and after he leaves, Raven digs into her backpack to remove some equipment.

  “Have you thought about what you’re going to do once you’re at the party?” Raven asks.

  I shake my head. “Not yet,” I tell her. “But while I talk to the boys, I’m thinking Sydney should go through Lyle’s things.”

  “Yes,” Sydney says.

  “Lucky,” Marcella whispers, earning a smile. The idea of searching through people’s houses holds some appeal. I’m sure Marcella has been bored out of her mind. There’s only so much excitement internet research can provide.

  “It will probably rule Lyle out,” I say. “But that’s one less suspect.”

  “I have an idea,” Brynn says, perking up. “You said there will be other boys at the party, right? That one boy, Jonah—what if instead of going with you, Marcella and I break into his house?”

  “I’m listening … ,” Marcella says, unable to hide her smile.

  “That’s right,” Sydney says, looking at me. “Lyle said Jonah’s dad is out of town and that he’d be spending the night. So while they’re at the party with us, Marcella and Brynn can search Jonah’s house. That way, we can rule out two of the boys.”

  Marcella already has her phone, looking for the address. At the coffee table, Raven opens up one of her boxes, and I see various sizes of screwdrivers, plastic tubing. She lifts her eyes as if expecting us to be concerned. Sydney audibly gulps.

  “Rest back,” Raven tells her kindly, putting her hand on her shoulder.

  Sydney meets my gaze as she leans her head against the sofa pillow. I’m suddenly terrified, deciding that I should have gone first just in case there was a problem.

  “I love you, Mena,” Sydney says.

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  “Now I’m going to give you something to relax,” Raven says. “It’s short acting, so you’ll be fine after.”

  I watch as Raven pulls out a syringe and inserts the needle under the skin of Sydney’s inner elbow. I have a sudden wave of sickness and look away.

  There’s
a touch on my shoulder and I jump. Marcella is standing over me. “Brynn and I will wait with her. Why don’t you take a break?”

  “Because I want to stay with her.”

  When I look at Sydney again, her eyes slide closed.

  Raven grabs a metal instrument from one of the cases and uses it to pry open Sydney’s left eyelid, stabilizing it in that position. I watch in horror as she begins to work wires behind Sydney’s eye, confident in her movements.

  I’m starting to lose my nerve. Marcella helps me to my feet, and I go into the kitchen. Jackson is leaning against the counter near the sink, but when he sees me, he grabs his crutches to come over. Annalise walks past, squeezing my hand supportively before leaving the room.

  Jackson stops across the table from me and sighs heavily.

  “Well, this is another shitty day,” he says matter-of-factly.

  There’s a wet sound from the couch, followed by a sharp intake of air. I can’t look.

  “Want to go to my bedroom?” I ask Jackson.

  “Yes,” he says instantly. I laugh despite the circumstances and lead him that way.

  23

  When we get inside my room, I sit on the edge of my bed while Jackson closes the door. He makes his way to the other side of the mattress, running his gaze around the room.

  “What did Annalise want earlier?” I ask, curious.

  “She actually wanted to talk,” he replies.

  “To you?”

  He looks at me and I laugh, letting him know I’m joking. All the girls like Jackson, but it’s kind of fun to mess with him too. He’s literally the only boy we’ve ever been friends with.

  Jackson eases himself down on the bed and then drags himself up to the pillows, breathing heavily when he’s done. “That was fucking hard,” he murmurs.

  I join him, resting the side of my head on his shoulder. He runs his palm over my hair, easing closer as he starts to talk.

  “Annalise asked if I was picking up any weird vibes from Raven,” Jackson says, sharing the information before I can ask.

  “What did you say?”

  “That I didn’t know her well enough to judge,” he replies. “So I asked Annalise what she thought.”

  “And?”