Going Under

by S. Walden

  Gretchen laughed.

  “Gretchy?” I asked.

  “Don’t call me that,” she replied.

  “I was ready to do him. I’m totally not joking right now,” I said. “I wanted to do things to him.”

  I crawled towards my friend who sat in front of me leaning against her bed.

  “Do you understand what I’m telling you? I wanted to do things. Lots of things,” I said, inches from her face.

  “Like blow him?” she asked.

  “Blow. Him. Up!” I replied, and Gretchen fell on the floor laughing. “What?” I asked, laughing, too, because Gretchen’s laugh was infectious.

  “I love you,” she said between giggles. “Tell me more.”

  “I want to swim in his eyes,” I said dreamily.

  “Oh God.”

  “And marry him and have his babies,” I finished.

  “And blow him, too, right?”

  “To Mars,” I sighed, leaning against the bed. Gretchen sat up and joined me. “All the way to Mars.”

  I looked at my friend. She stared at me, grinning.

  “Can I call him?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “I just wanna wish him a good night,” I said.

  “No.”

  “But I need to tell him a couple of things.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “But I promised him I’d call him tonight.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “But I love him.”

  “I know, Brookey.”

  “I love him so much. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him.”

  Gretchen put her arm around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. “I know, Brooke.”

  “Do you think he loves me?”

  “I think he’s head-over-heels in love with you.”

  I squealed. “Can I have another drink?”

  “You drank it all,” Gretchen said.

  I grunted and looked at the TV. “Charlotte just wanted to have a freakin’ baby, people! Is that too much to ask for?”

  “I know,” Gretchen said. “They gave her a tough storyline.”

  “So freaking unfair,” I said, and hiccupped.

  I promptly fell asleep on Gretchen’s shoulder, my head bobbing up and down on tightly packed waves. I heard my friend’s voice in the distance before dozing off.

  “You’re gonna have the worst headache tomorrow.”

  Nine

  Mother. Fucker.

  I awoke in Gretchen’s bed with a raging headache. She sauntered out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel, smile plastered on her face, looking chipper.

  “Hi, sunshine,” she said, heading for her dresser.

  “I hate you,” I mumbled.

  “Hey now. I didn’t force you to drink all of it, Brooke,” she said.

  “I still hate you.”

  Gretchen pouted. “You know you had fun.”

  My lips turned up in a painful smile. “How stupid did I get?”

  “Well, I had to wrestle your cell phone from you,” Gretchen said.

  “No way! I remember falling asleep on your shoulder,” I countered.

  “Mmhmm. And then you woke up and you wanted to talk to your dad and then your mom. Finn and then Ryan,” Gretchen said. “Especially Ryan.”

  I placed my hands over my face. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “You are not,” Gretchen said, unwrapping her hair and pulling it up in a wet bun. “It was harmless fun. You got silly, and then I put you to bed. Just promise me you’ll never drink by yourself.”

  “I’m never drinking again, period,” I muttered.

  Gretchen sighed. “That’s what they all say.”

  I rolled on to my side and nearly screamed in agony. The throbbing in my head pulsed close to an explosion before settling once again into a punishing ache.

  “I’m going for breakfast. What do you want?”

  The thought of food made me want to hurl. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.

  “You shouldn’t go out with wet hair. It’s cold,” I said.

  “It’s fine. And I’m making you eat something,” Gretchen said. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  I had no plans to leave her bed. Ever.

  When I got home around three, I collapsed in my own bed. The day was already wasted, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep away my headache. I convinced myself I wouldn’t dream this time because my brain wasn’t working right. How could I possibly summon events from my past when I couldn’t remember the day of the week?

  “Okay, you were right,” Beth admitted. “I think I’m in love with him.”

  “Oh?” I squirmed in the passenger seat.

  “Yes. And I’ve never felt this way about anybody,” Beth said. “At the risk of sounding super cheesy, thank you.”

  She glanced my way for a second before turning back to the road.

  “Thank me for what?” I asked.

  “For setting me up with him! Hello?” She looked at me again. “What’s up with you today?”

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  I couldn’t shake the memory of Finn leaning over and kissing me. It happened last night. We went out, the three of us since I had failed at yet another blind date, and we took Beth home first. That left me for last, and he kissed me before I could find the door handle and scramble out of the car.

  It didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. He had been flirting with me for the past week, always covert and always in Beth’s absence. When I mustered the courage to ask him what the hell he was doing, he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

  “Brooke?”

  “Huh?”

  “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Beth asked, pulling into the mall parking lot.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I swear it.”

  “You sure?” she pressed.

  “Positive.”

  Beth paused for the briefest second. “Okay then. Can we keep talking about me?”

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  We hurried into the mall. Neither one of us brought an umbrella, and a light April rain threatened to ruin Beth’s perfectly styled hair. My hair, however, looked like shit, and I was more than happy to stand in the rain if it melted me to nothing. It was the guilt that made me want to disappear.

  “Finn is taking me out tonight,” Beth said.

  “I know.”

  “And I think he’s gonna tell me something.”

  My heart clenched. “Oh yeah?”

  “Well, he’s taking me to that fancy restaurant on Glenwood Avenue. That can mean only one thing.”

  “He’s gonna pop the question?” I asked teasingly.

  Beth laughed. “Get real! But now that you said that, it makes saying ‘I love you’ not nearly as good.”

  “He loves you,” I whispered, somewhere between a question and a statement.

  “I think so,” Beth replied. “But if I’m totally wrong, forget we had this conversation.”

  He loves her. That’s all I could think of as we roamed from store to store taking notes of the newest fashion trends. Normally I loved doing this. I loved clothes, accessorizing outfits, finding the perfect shoes. But today it seemed so empty and pointless.

  I considered telling Beth right there, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her reaction. I actually feared it. I feared she would be upset with me, though I never seduced Finn. I never gave him any reason to believe that I wanted to be more than friends with him. He was dating my best friend, for Christ’s sake! But I also couldn’t deny my physical attraction to him. It started growing about a month ago, but I tried with every ounce of fight in me to bury it. I convinced myself that I was just jealous of Finn and Beth. They had the kind of relationship I wanted. Surely that was the only thing that accounted for my lust.

  ***

  Monday morning was painful. I didn’t want to see Ryan and sneaked into first period, tiptoeing to my desk like a burglar. I should have carried my book bag like those cartoon characters carry the sa
ck of money, cinched at the top with my two hands pressed close to my chest. All I needed was a striped outfit and a big dollar sign on my bag.

  He was already in his seat, staring out the window, and I hoped he wouldn’t turn around. I decided against striking up a conversation with Lucy. I thought if he didn’t hear my voice, he would forget I even existed.

  “Did you have a nice weekend?” Lucy asked, as I opened my notebook. Ryan turned around and glanced at me. Well, so much for that.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “It was all right. I went to this crafts antique fair thing up in the mountains with my mom,” Lucy said. “I thought it’d be really lame, but it was actually fun.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I think I’m totally digging the shabby chic look. I think when I own my own place, I’ll decorate that way,” Lucy continued.

  Who was this girl? I thought. I’d only been trying to get her to talk to me since the first day of school. Now when she decided to be a chatterbox, I wanted her to shut the hell up.

  “We ended up staying in this cute bed and breakfast while we were up there. It wasn’t planned or anything. Just spur of the moment. I like that about my mom.”

  I nodded and looked Ryan’s way. He was back at it, staring out the window, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. I was dying to talk to him, but I didn’t know what to say. We left things on such a weird note, not even bothering to say goodbye to each other. That was rude and immature on both our parts. Or maybe I didn’t realize just how much I had embarrassed him.

  “You mentioned cheerleading the other day,” Lucy said, and I whipped my head around so fast, my neck popped. She heard it. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah yeah. Fine. What about cheerleading?” I asked, massaging my neck.

  “Oh, well you mentioned you used to cheer. So did I,” she said.

  My eyebrows shot up, and then I lowered them just as quickly. Must I make everything so obvious?

  “When?” I asked. “Where?”

  “Here in ninth grade. I quit though. Obviously.”

  “Why?” I pressed.

  Lucy fidgeted for a moment with the buttons on her blouse. “It just didn’t work out.”

  I couldn’t leave it at that. “Did you have a falling out with one of the girls or something?”

  Lucy shook her head. “I just became disinterested, I guess.”

  Yeah, like everything else in her life. The girl did nothing at school now, but in ninth grade, she was involved in everything.

  “Any particular reason why?” I asked.

  “I guess I didn’t like being a flyer,” she said.

  Bullshit. Those pictures I saw told otherwise, unless she was really good at faking it, and Lucy didn’t come across as the type of girl who was good at faking anything. That’s why I liked her.

  “The Liberty was my specialty, though,” she said. “I know you said you were good at basket tosses and not so much the Liberty.” She thought for a moment then whispered, “I was good at the Liberty.”

  I saw the pain and anger deep within her eyes, a hurt that’s only felt by someone who’s suffered a major indignity. And I’m not talking about being called a nasty name or having a rumor spread about you. I’m not talking about getting your feelings hurt because someone or something didn’t live up to your expectations. I’m talking about the kind of indignity that changes you as a person, makes you withdraw, hide from the world because suddenly it’s turned into something frightening—full of dark corners and monsters.

  “Wanna hang out after school?” I asked. “I don’t have to work.”

  Lucy looked at me confused.

  “You know. Come to my house. Watch some TV or whatever,” I said. I wish I wouldn’t have added the “whatever” at the end. It made me sound indecisive, and I was not an indecisive person.

  “I guess,” she said, uncertain.

  “It won’t be too bad,” I said, and winked at her. She giggled.

  “Sounds fun,” Lucy said, and the hurt vanished from her eyes instantly.

  ***

  I wanted so much to invade Lucy’s privacy. I needed to know about Cal. I needed to know if she wished to do anything about him or bury her pain for good. But Gretchen showed up unannounced, so all of my well-planned questions had to wait.

  “I’m totally loving your name,” Gretchen said to Lucy. “It’s adorable.”

  Lucy shrugged. “I hate it, actually. Everyone calls me the Narnia girl. It’s so stupid.”

  “Whatever,” Gretchen said. “She was adorable, too.”

  “How do you know Brooke?” Lucy asked.

  “Oh, she used to go to my high school,” Gretchen said, and I shifted uncomfortably on my bed. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted Lucy to know.

  “Really?” Lucy asked, directing the question to me.

  I nodded.

  “So why do you go to Charity Run?” Lucy asked.

  “My mom moved to California. It was either go live in San Francisco or move in with my dad,” I said.

  “Well, you may have made the right choice. You’re kind of a hit with some boys at school,” Lucy said. “At least that’s what I heard.”

  “Hold up,” Gretchen said. “What’s this all about?”

  Lucy grinned. “There are some boys at school who like Brooke. And they’re the nice ones.”

  “What do you mean?” I jumped on that comment.

  “Just that not all the boys at school are nice. But the ones I heard who like you are,” Lucy clarified.

  “What boys aren’t nice?” I asked. I knew I sounded too aggressive, and tried to ease up a bit. “I mean, so I can stay away from them.”

  Lucy thought for a moment. “Well, Cal for one. You shouldn’t be hanging out with him. You shouldn’t even talk to him, Brooke.”

  Alarm bells were going off in my brain. “Don’t blow it! Don’t blow it!” they screamed, and I tried to draw it out of her gently. I wished Gretchen weren’t here, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

  “Cal seems harmless to me,” I said. I watched Lucy’s face carefully.

  “Yeah, he seems like a lot of things. Good student. Good guy,” she said. And then she stared off in the direction of my closet.

  Gretchen looked at me as if to say, “What’s wrong with her?” and I shook my head.

  I tried for lightness. “Lucy, anything you wanna tell me about Cal?”

  Lucy continued staring at the closet door.

  “Lucy?”

  No response.

  “Lucy!”

  She jerked her head and looked at me. “Huh?”

  “I said is there anything you want to tell me about Cal.”

  Her stare penetrated me.

  “Yeah. Stay away from him.”

  ***

  I stood near the concession stand surveying the home team’s bleachers. The wind whipped my hair about and caused my eyes to tear up, making it difficult to spot him. I wasn’t even sure he’d be at the game, but I assumed popular students didn’t miss Homecoming.

  Homecoming. Packed bleachers. Wild fans. Some painted. Black and red and white all over the place. We were the Crusaders. Don’t ask how a public high school could get away with that mascot considering the whole separation of church and state thing. But no one seemed to have a problem with it, evidently, because our mascot came tearing down the field before the game, plastic sword in one hand, plastic shield in the other, screaming about righteous retribution with a large red cross slapped on his chest. It happened every game. Every year. I watched him circle the field now, thinking absurdly that I fit right into this school, though I had no plans to take out my righteous retribution on the football players. I was more interested in the swim team and exposing their secret sex club.

  I knew it’d be difficult to spot Cal amidst the fans. Football in the South was a pretty big deal. Everyone was here, even people like me who could care less about the game. Something about tradition draws even the most reluctant observers, and I suspe
cted that if they didn’t attend the game, they’d watch it on the local TV channel.

  My eyes moved up and down the bleachers methodically until I found him. He was sitting with a group of friends, Parker among them, and I almost squealed at my good fortune. Not because Parker was there, but because there was an empty seat a few spaces down from them, and if I moved now, it could be mine.

  I climbed the bleachers and started in on their row. My plan was to fake trip into Cal, landing in his lap. It was time to get my hands dirty. It was time to touch him and see how he reacted. I figured I could seal my fate with a little bit of clumsiness and good girl charm.

  Things didn’t go quite according to plan, however. As I made my way past Parker, I felt a foot shoot out, catching my ankle, and sending me head first into Cal’s lap. I grabbed his thighs on instinct, smacking my head against his crotch. My right knee hit the metal bleachers with a smart crunch, and I cried out in pain. Not the way I wanted to trip. I wanted to be cute about it. This was awkward and embarrassing.

  “Wow, you okay?” Cal asked, stifling a laugh. He helped me off his lap, holding my hand until I was safely sitting in the space beside him.

  I rubbed my forehead. “I didn’t realize how rough jeans fabric was.”

  “Here, let me look,” Cal said, and pushed my hand away from my face. He brushed my hair aside and studied my forehead. “It’s a little red, but I think you’ll live.”

  “Great,” I mumbled.

  “That’s the second time I’ve watched you smack your face, Brooke,” Cal said. “Better be careful. Don’t wanna mess up all that pretty you got going on.”

  I chuckled.

  “Is your knee okay?” he asked, noticing me rubbing it.

  “I think so,” I replied, and leaned forward to look down the row at Parker.

  He smiled at me, a smug smile that ignited a holy fire. Fitting, I thought, and wished I were the Crusader but with real armor and a real sword. What would I do with the sword? Simple. Run it through Parker. Or if I was feeling especially generous, maybe just give him a few lacerations here and there. I sat back and shook my head. What was it about these boys that made me so violent?

  “You here alone?” Cal asked.