I drove extra slow, but it did no good. The bell hadn’t rung, I wasn’t late, and swarms of girls in gray uniforms filled the hallways. Never mind. Crowds were good for hiding in. This might work out even better.
Head down and bag on my back, I made for my locker. So much noise and people pushing. But I could handle it. Deep breaths, calm thoughts, and all that crap.
My hands were wet with sweat as I entered my locker combination and opened the door. The material under my arms was damp. Eventually I’d have to deal with Georgia, and frankly, she could kiss my ass. Her betrayal stung as fresh today as it had when it happened.
“Hey, Willy,” came a noxious voice from behind me. I didn’t turn around, didn’t need to. Kara Lamont. “I hear somebody tried to take your freedom.”
Free Willy, as per the movie, was apparently the only whale Kara knew about. Original and well educated didn’t describe the girl. I finished grabbing my English notebook, taking my time. A crowd had gathered, more than her usual posse. I could hear them all whispering and giggling, feet impatiently shifting, eager for action. There were always a few ready to see an uncool student get served her daily recommended dose of humiliation.
But this level of curiosity went well beyond that. Awesome. The Drop Stop had made me famous, unfortunately.
“Is your face really all fucked up?” she inquired, voice full of glee. “Poor you, Willy. Though I guess it’s not like anyone wanted to look at you anyway.”
A wave of laughter swept through the crowd. People just loved a good spectacle. Kara sucked up the attention, standing taller, smiling wider. I knew her opinion shouldn’t matter, and yet it always had. Despite my best efforts, the bitch featured heavily on the recording in my head of every rotten thing ever said to me. Every insult, every put-down—it had all been saved up there for posterity.
But this time felt different, somehow. Kara’s voice sounded far off, as if she were struggling just to be heard.
“You must have made a great human shield,” she continued. “You’re as wide as the ass end on a truck and I bet with the amount of fat you’re packing, you could probably even stop a bullet.”
More laughter and even a few gasps of outrage and surprise. Amazing really. Anyone who’d been in school for more than an hour should have realized Kara was nothing but a bully. Still, the whole robbery thing had given her some new material. After several years of hearing the same insults day in and day out, it was actually kind of refreshing. Sometimes I wondered if this was the pinnacle of her existence. If in twenty years she’d look back on these days and think they were the best of her life. When she’d been able to torment people without any real repercussions because we were just kids. No consequences, not really. Like what happened in these halls didn’t matter at all.
I wish I were a killer whale. I’d bite Kara’s head off and use it for a beach ball. God knows, it was already full of air.
Instead, I said nothing. It only excited her to see the little people fighting back against her reign of terror. Ignoring her and heading straight to class was what I needed to do. But when I turned around, there were more people watching than I’d imagined. Fifty, sixty maybe, jamming up the hallway. Hell, even Georgia was hiding back there, waiting to see what happened.
Kara stood front and center, her smile huge, delighted by the attention. What the hell was her problem? She was rich, thin, and popular, everything I wasn’t, and still she had to pull this shit.
Normally in this situation, I would be able to feel my heart punching hard in my chest, hot embarrassment burning my cheeks. There was nothing. My heartbeat stayed firm, my breath slow. The titter of the assembled crowd felt as detached and irrelevant as crickets chirping on a summer night.
Kara looked smaller than I remembered her. Lightweight. Chris would have found it easy to throw her around. To stick a gun between those sharp white pretty teeth.
“Move your hair, Free Willy,” she ordered, stepping toward me with her hand outstretched. “Let’s see.”
Like hell she’d be touching me. I’d been touched against my will enough for one lifetime, and by someone a lot scarier than Kara. My thumb curled beneath my fingers and I swung hard and fast, lashing out. Bam, my fist smacked into Kara’s face. The crack of the bone, the sound of her nose breaking, was amazing. Pain tore up my arm, my thumb throbbing in agony. Dammit, it hurt.
Kara was crying and carrying on. Her screams filled the hallway, blood gushing down the front of her uniform. People were running everywhere, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and this mess. Even Kara’s gal pals had deserted her, the cowards. I stood alone, leaning against the lockers, cradling my hand. Totally worth the possible broken bone.
Not the return to school I’d imagined, however. Mom would not be impressed.
“Holy shit,” whispered Georgia, slowly stepping up beside me. “Edie, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said tiredly.
Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked so lost.
I don’t know. Maybe I should have forgiven her regarding the media blitz and shit talk about John. Neither of us were rolling in money and they’d probably offered her a sum for selling me out. Or at least, I sincerely hope they had. Georgia was here on a scholarship. She had big dreams. All of those interviews were just a step toward her making contacts in the entertainment industry—getting her one step closer to becoming an actress. Her texts had explained all of this and more. From a certain point of view, it was perfectly understandable. But that didn’t mean I had to like or accept it. Life was too short for fair-weather friends, and she’d broken my heart.
“You should go to class,” I said. “You don’t want to be late.”
She took a step back. “Okay. See you later.”
I nodded, letting her go for good.
“Hey, kid.”
“Hey, Bill.” I sat on a stretcher in emergency care, swinging my legs back and forth. Mostly trying not to fixate on the all-too-familiar sounds and smells. Hurling on the floor would be bad. “What are you doing here?”
“Just getting a cut checked out, home-renovating accident.” The EMT from the night at the Drop Stop smiled. “The kitchen sink attacked me.”
“And I thought your job was dangerous.”
He just smiled some more. “How you doing?”
“Fine.”
“Why are you here?” he asked, leaning against the opposite wall. He looked to be about forty, fit, with a shaved head. Hot if you were into middle-aged people. Bet my mom would like him.
“Dislocated my thumb.” I showed him my bandaged hand.
“How the hell did you do that?” he asked, crossing his arms, getting comfortable.
“I punched a girl at school.”
A frown darkened his face. “Did she deserve it?”
“Oh, yeah. Big time. She’d been bullying me for years.”
He shook his head. “Picking on other people, putting them down to make yourself feel big, is bullshit behavior at any age, frankly.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Give me your left,” he said, holding out his hand.