Flipping the page, I wondered how much time was left in the class.
Chris hadn’t kissed my sister.
He was mine.
Those were dangerous thoughts.
4
Twenty inches. It isn’t a lot of room to maneuver, especially when I have all eyes on me and this is my first dive in five years in front of anyone other than my sister.
I’m not afraid of heights. If only. It’s drowning that has me soaked in cold sweat and feeling all the non-slip bumps of the board as I walk out. There’s a natural bounce not unlike the sway of a ship or the canter of a horse, a dependable give and take that I remember well.
It reminds me to breathe through the panic.
In and out. There were plenty of witnesses and the coach would pull me out in an emergency. No way they would all watch me drown, even if I was supposed to be my twin that had been bullied so badly in this exact pool.
Whale.
That is what they had written on Jen’s swimsuit with body heat sensitive ink, using the connection to Jordan Walsh to plant the doctored suit for Jen’s regulation white one-piece with the school’s red and gold colours on the right shoulder strap. Jen had stood up here, humiliated in front of everyone, looking down to see what her suit revealed only once the pointing started.
Then Jen had dived a perfect back somersault and twist combination into pike that had gotten her the gold medal for the competition. She hadn’t waited around to collect her award.
I found the medal in the bottom of her backpack after I cleaned her room with her. I made Jen take it with her when she moved to take my place with mom. My friend James would help her find the confidence to finish her season.
The school had been devastated to lose her over what they viewed as a poorly timed prank. Jen wasn’t what anyone would consider fat, so they hadn’t even mentioned it to my father, figuring it was more a reference to her making too much splash in her dives.
Also, not true. Jen was way better than me, the top of this school, which is why she had already gotten a full scholarship to university with the diving program of her choice.
Now, I was stuck back on the diving board because I told the school I enjoyed diving too, so it would be easier for Jen to leave. Her teammates were depending on her. They just had no idea that I was washed up at diving and less than eager to get back in the pool.
“Gen? You doing okay up there, sweetie?” The coach called up. I didn’t like him. Jen had warned me to keep my distance, saying he gave her bad vibes. Now that I had met him, I wanted to question my twin further.
“I’m fine,” I shouted down and walked the plank. Turning myself about, I prepared for a simple back somersault, half twist and pike. I didn’t have to face the water right away.
Jen had made me work hard to catch up. I could do this.
“Watch out, a cannonball is coming,” somebody shouted.
I ignored it easily. My twin’s reaction to this ongoing bullying, if she had still been in my place, might have caused her to slip and crack her head on the board, a moment’s broken focus all it took for an accident. I had done something similar one time I was goofing off, nearly drowning myself since I had foolishly decided to show off my diving with friends that could barely dog paddle.
It was a decent dive. I was a little better than average, nowhere near Jen’s skill. It was my entry that was the worse. I couldn’t stop the panic when the water touched my body, and then I was already trying to get back to the surface before the rest of me fully entered
“What the hell was that?” The coach said. He didn’t add sweetie this time.
I swam with long, hard strokes to reach the side and hauled myself out of the pool like it was full of sharks. My breathing wasn’t quite slow enough to speak yet.
“Jen? Are you okay?” asked a girl’s voice. Her name was Rebecca, identity confirmed as I looked over. Jen had warned me that Rebecca wanted her spot and had been the reason for most of the bullying, doing anything to overtake Jen in diving.
Dirty and innocent, those devious blue eyes were hiding the smirk that Rebecca kept off her lips.
“I have to make it challenging for the rest of you,” I said, looking those lying blue eyes straight on.
Her little mouth pursed, skinny lips almost disappearing as she sucked them into her sour hole.
“You know how to make a splash,” said another guy behind me.
“Bite my lard ass,” I said, standing up on the pool deck and not even bothering to look behind for my newest tormentor.
All I could think of when I heard these trite comments was how my sister had taken them seriously enough to start skipping meals. I had seen how much weight she lost, how weak and pathetic these jerks had all made her turn herself. Even the hair changes had all been a desperate attempt to change. Jen deserved me to force feed each and every insult back.
Oh, they were all going to get their just deserts.
“Lard? Guess she’s admitting she’s a whale, Jordan,” Rebecca said.
I turned around after all so I could get my first look at twin enemy number three: Jordan Walsh. He was the definition of dark and handsome, although he was in the pool, so I couldn’t judge if he was tall to go with it. His darkly tanned skin was dusky enough to be natural with only a hint of deeper bronzing on his shoulders and forearms where the sun had darkened his ethnicity to smouldering hot Spanish boy. Yeah, the nearly black eyes and long lashes that swept over my body with a slow perusal spoke of a long-ago aristocrat that could sit on a veranda sipping wine while the rest of us peasants did the gruelling work out in the vineyard.
Ironically, Jen had told me Jordan wasn’t the usual rich kid at this school. Maybe he was on scholarship? We hadn’t really gotten into it. In fact, Jen had hardly wanted to talk about Jordan at all, obviously traumatized by even the mention of his name.
He had been the one dating Rebecca at the time Jen was bullied, although my sister said those two had soon broken it off after the swimsuit switch fiasco. It hadn’t been that long before winter break. Jen stayed away from the school, completing her exams with a private invigilator after the observed one in art. Anything to avoid facing her tormentors once they ruined the one thing Jen loved most, her diving.
I was going to win it all back for her and ruin them for trying to steal Jen’s victory.
I stuck my tongue out at Jordan, amused as his eyes both shot up to express surprise with dark, well-defined brows that would be the jealousy of any girl and sharply bladed cheekbones, prominent as he smiled.
I gave him my behind, feeling myself blush at the whistle.
These bullies were acting like a bunch of flirts. Jordan might be easy to screw with if he still had a weakness for Rebecca. I could consider it a two-for-one deal because she was owed as much payback as the boys for what happened to my sister.
Who didn’t like a good deal?
5
“Dad? I’m feeling the jet lag. Going to bed early,” I shouted as I ran through the door, pretty much literally. It had good hinges, thankfully. I kicked off my shoes and ran up the stairs without waiting for a response.
“Are you hungry, Genevieve?” called an older woman’s accented voice from the kitchen. She must be the new housekeeper. I hadn’t met her or her son yet. They had been on vacation and I had escaped the house early this morning to check things out before the fun and games started.
I didn’t look sick. I better save the introductions for later. “No, I’ve got a headache. I vomit uncontrollably with them,” I warned. Hurling should keep her away.
“I’ll send up some porridge and ginger ale,” the housekeeper said, her voice almost catching up with me as I opened Jen’s room—now mine—and dodged any further interrogation.
Now, I would just have to wait for the food to be brought and then I could hopefully beg off sick for the rest of the night. I needed the time to go back to school after hours and set up everything I had planned. It couldn’t wait too long for the first part. I still needed the
school to be open. Luckily, most of the students lived on campus at this rich prep academy, parents more than happy to part with their progeny for a sizeable fee in lieu of actually teaching their children anything themselves.
It meant the library in the school and thus the school stayed open late for students that lived on campus and preferred to study there, almost like a university. It didn’t close until 11 pm.
The school barn was my second target. The barn was never locked up because who the hell thought they could walk out with a horse and not be noticed? I didn’t need to remove a horse, just give one a makeover.
“Genevieve?” The housekeeper called through Jen’s—my—door. I had to start thinking of all of this as mine.
“Yeah, just leave it at the door. Please,” I said. “You can call me Gen or Genie. What’s your name?”
I couldn’t help myself. The woman sounded kind. Mom had never hired a housekeeper to live with us, preferring privacy even if it made everything less homely than at dad’s house. Servants would never take familiarity with my mother.
“Genie then, because Gen is too much like your sister, even if the two of you are identical,” the housekeeper said. “Call me Merry. It’s Merrinda but I prefer nicknames like you and your sister.”
“Thanks, Merry. I’m sure I’ll appreciate the food once the aspirin kicks in. Can you tell my dad to let me sleep? That’s the only way to get a bad headache to go away once it starts.”
“Okay Genie, but please, ring the bell I put on your tray if you need anything.”
She put a bell on my tray. I suddenly felt even worse for tricking her. She must really think I’m disabled and in pain, if I had to summon help with a bell. It also was sweet and thoughtful.
I told myself that tomorrow morning I would get up early and help her out in the kitchen.
Her footsteps were so soft going down the stairs I lost them after only a few. Falling down to sit on my bed, I shrugged my book bag off and dug out my phone. I knew that Jen wouldn’t have phone privileges during the day because her school—my old school—had a strict ban on any personal electronics. That wouldn’t stop me from texting her now to demand the deets she might have been holding out on. She could respond when she got home and mom let her have her cell phone back from the locked drawer, after homework and snack.
How was your first day?
I met them all. Chris was first. He kiss
I deleted the text and started again. Jen was just getting over a painful embarrassment at the hands of these bullies. I couldn’t tell her I had kissed one of them.
I met the three stooges.
Chris, I accused of letting me cheat off him in calculus. He looked like a someone tied his necktie too tight, choking on outrage.
Liam, I will go back to school and stuff his locker full of old Monopoly money and monocles glued to the door.
Jordan, I will give his horse a rainbow mane and tail makeover tonight so tomorrow’s jump off will be a riot.
Rebecca is a bitch.
Your diving coach gives me the creeps.
I got a 100 on a calculus pop quiz.
Dad isn’t here. Just Merry. She seems nice.
Chris kissed me.
The text was sent before I could delete it this time. Neither I or Jen was good at keeping secrets from each other. We had to make an extra effort when we already lived far apart and secrets would only widen that distance. What had happened to Jen at this school, the hidden bullying was the biggest secret my sister had ever kept from me.
Guilt and honesty made me type that text.
Didn’t mean I wouldn’t regret it. I tossed my cell onto the bed and got up to grab the food Merry had left me. It was a simple porridge, like she said. My stomach was appreciative. Although I didn’t have a headache, my stomach was in knots after facing all of my sister’s bullies down today.
I carried the tray over to my sister’s window seat and placed it in the middle, taking a seat so I could eat and look out at the yard. My father had a lot of horses, most of them temperamental racing thoroughbreds, but some were big, German warmbloods for farm labour and there was our donkey and a couple of jumpers for Jen and myself. Jen preferred dressage, but Sin was a good all a rounder English-style horse.
There was somebody riding outside as I watched. He had a helmet on, which wasn’t the usual for the cowboys or jockeys, outside of ring regulations. There was a bright yellow protective cap over the helmet so it had to be his show protection. Who else would be riding for shows around here, or had dad started letting people do lessons?
It made more sense when I realized the guy was riding my horse, Juniper Snow, and I appreciated it. Given how little I was usually at dad’s house, it was good to know Juni was being taken care of properly and given exercise more than a couple of rounds plodding the field.
He was good, well-matched to Juni. Soft hands and a nice seat. I also got a good view of his cowboy ass when he started to post, the up and down motion to mimic Juni’s trot showing off how Wranglers were meant to be filled. It was a bit disingenuous because normally English riders had jodhpurs that were skin tight instead of jeans, but this was a relaxed work out at home.
The helmet said he still planned to get some jumps in. I hadn’t seen Juni jumped by anyone other than myself, so I settled in to watch, scooping delicious porridge up until the bowl was clean.
The ginger ale was gone too by the time he finally started towards the center of the ring where some outdoor jumps were already set up. Juni had been put through the paces, trotting up to a canter and a short gallop before dropping back to a canter. I could see the darkening of my horse’s pale coat bringing out the greyish underneath with sweat. Juni had put on some muscle, probably a combination of extra oats and good rides by the cowboy working him now. I was thankful once more that my dad had hired someone to keep Juni in top shape.
I didn’t really compete much in riding, mostly doing it for pleasure, but a well-trained horse was without price. Feeling those big, nurtured muscles bunch under me as I jumped higher and faster would be a kind of freedom that my father couldn’t buy with pricy vacations or fancy shoes. This was a gift of power and it meant my father trusted I could manage the reins once they were given back to me.
Whoever this guy was, he rode better than me. Really good. I almost clapped when I saw how hard he took the corner, making his shifts in direction so easily that I didn’t even see his hands or legs moving until the intent was already shown by Juni’s change in pace. Juni looked like a wonderful beast, eating the mad earth-devouring pace, kicking up dust and excitement as they approached the next jump. Juni’s ears were pricked forward, as much into the exercise as his rider.
I did clap as they cleared the final bar, clipping it but not enough to drop at the end. The rider rounded the ring and started the cool down walk and I suddenly realized my clapping wasn’t going to reinforce the idea that I was sick with a headache. Lowering my hands, I was grateful the kitchen was at the back of the house and my window was too thick for the cowboy to have heard me.
As if to make a liar out of me, he looked up, one hand unbuckling his chin strap and yanking off his helmet, and I scrambled off the window seat, thumping onto the floor.
I don’t think he got a look at me. I didn’t see his face either, too quickly ducking. He had black hair, I think, and dark eyebrows. That was all I got.
My heart was thudding so hard that I almost didn’t hear the steps of Merry hurrying up to check on me.
“Genie? Are you okay? I heard something fall.”
“I—I rolled out of bed,” I said, feeling lame even as the only excuse I could come up with stuttered past my lips.
“Oh, are you okay? Can I come in?”
“I’m fine. Just not used to this narrow bed. I have a queen at home. Dad really needs to buy us new beds now that we’re not ten-year-olds anymore. Don’t bother to come in. I’ve got all the lights off and the blinds pulled. I don’t want any light, please.”
; “Okay, Genie. Just leave the tray outside your door when you’re done. Did you eat?”
“Yes, thank you. It was delicious,” I said. “I’ll come down early tomorrow morning to help with breakfast if that’s okay?”
“Your company would be nice. I would like to see your face even if it’s like my Jen’s own, so I can see what makes you uniquely Genie. You can meet my son too if you get up early. He’s a bit of a scoundrel and got into trouble with your sister but I hope you’ll wait to reserve judgement until you’ve met him.”
Another bully? I picked myself up off the floor and quietly made my way back to the bed. I really had enough bullies for today. My sister hadn’t mentioned any problems with Merry’s son.
“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” I said. “Wash behind his ears or scrub his mouth with soap, or whatever you’re supposed to do with scoundrel sons,” I suggested.
“All boys can be a bit wild at that age. Don’t worry, he’ll be a gentleman or get my spoon to the seat of his pants,” Merry threatened.
I knew I liked her. If only I could literally spank all of Jen’s bullies that way.
“Thanks, Merry. I will see you in the morning,” I said, adding a yawn. It wasn’t that hard to fake. Just get started and the body took over reflexively, especially since I really was feeling a bit sleepy.
I would grab some black coffee on my way back to the school. The fuel of choice for rebels like me. Had to stay alert if you were planning a complete and total annihilation of the enemy with them already armed and dangerous.
It was time to skirt the trenches.
6
I completed my dastardly tasks with laughable ease. Honestly, you would think a school full of rich kids would have more security because of their students—or more importantly, their student’s families—but it was the opposite. Tough neighbourhoods needed more screening and surveillance to keep the guns and knives out of school so kids could focus on learning, but nobody used physical weapons to take down the competition at the preppy schools.
The Bully Switch Page 3
