Better Left Buried (14 page)

“Whoa, wait a minute. What are you accusing me of?”

“Tell me you didn’t know about the house on Maple Ave. Tell me your father and my mother weren’t trying to get it away from Harmony’s mother and that I’m not a pawn in his attempt at getting her to sell it to him.” He reached out for her hand, but she slapped him away. “Admit it, Jaxon.”

The stern look on his face deepened the strong cleft of his chin. “You want me to admit that I knew about the house. Fine, I’ll cop to that. My father talks business all the time—”

“And you thought I’d get Harmony to convince her mother to sell it to him.”

“No,
which is why I didn’t mention it. I knew if I did, you’d draw some half-assed conclusions.”

“Half-assed? Is that what you think? Charity’s holding up a two million dollar construction deal.” She could tell he didn’t expect her to know the value. “I’m not stupid, Jaxon. You can stop pretending to like me now.”

The fifth period bell rang and Ms. Buchanan, the freshman art teacher, appeared at the far end of the hall, detention slips in hand.

“Brea, please listen. It’s not like that.”

Rachael snickered and whispered something to Pete.

“You can have him back,” Brea said
to her. “I’m done. I quit. You beat me.”

Pete grabbed Jaxon’s sleeve. “Come on, man. It’s not worth it.”

“Brea, please listen,” Jaxon said. “I swear, I’m telling the truth.”

“It’s over.”

“No, it isn’t,” Rachael said, following her. “Not by a long shot.”

Brea knew it
wasn’t her and Jaxon’s relationship she was talking about.

The rest of the fifth period gym class was running warm-ups to the sound of Coach Beckwith’s whistle by the time Rachael and Brea arrived at the locker room. Rachael must have texted Amanda because she was waiting for them when they got there.

Brea hurried to undress before
either of them had a chance to start something, her locker in a different row from theirs. Part of her said to skip the class, take the damn zero, but she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding the conflict. The uncertainty of what was about to happen had her in a panic.

A lock popped. T
he sound echoed in the tile room that smelled of sweat and feet. Rachael and Amanda whispered back and forth and laughed like a couple of hyenas.

Brea wadded up her shirt and was standing in nothing but running shorts and her bra when Rachael blocked her in
.

“
You know you’re not good enough for Jaxon, right?”

Amanda stood off-center so
Brea had no place to run to.

“You heard me tell him it was over.”
Brea tried to play brave, but there was an unavoidable quiver in her voice.

Rachael leaned
against the locker, shaking her head. “I heard what you said, but that doesn’t stop people from comparing us does it? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?”

“Whatever
.” Brea grabbed her shirt and one of her sneakers, preparing to finish getting dressed in the gymnasium if she had to. “I’m out of here.”

Amanda threw her arm up to block her.

“Not
whatever
, freak. I really don’t think you get it.” Rachael grabbed one of Brea’s arms. Amanda grabbed the other. “I tried warning you, but you just don’t listen.”

“Let me go.” Brea pulled
away and Rachael’s nails cut into her skin.

“Don’t even think about it. Get her over there,” she said to Amanda.

Brea looked for any sign of what they meant to do, kicking and flailing, digging in her heels. She debated screaming for help, but getting them in trouble only guaranteed things would eventually be worse.

Amanda slammed her up against the bank of lockers and Rachael grabbed her hair.

“What are you doing? Cut it out.” Her chest hurt, her heart was pounding so hard. She looked for scissors and tugged opposite the direction Rachael was pulling. “Let go of my hair!”

“Hold her still, would you?”

Amanda struggled to keep her grip. “I’m trying.”

Brea pressed her stocking foot against the cold metal and pushed off in an attempt at throwing Amanda off balance. “Get off me.” Amanda was strong, at least four inches taller
, and pissed. “I said, ‘get off’.” Brea’s foot slipped and Amanda slammed her back against the metal.

Rachael wrapped Brea’s
braid around her left hand, forcing her to crane her neck. “Hold the door! Amanda, get the door!”

Rachael put Brea’s
braid between the hinges, slammed the door shut, and locked it.

Both she and Amanda were in a sweat.

Brea hung by her hair, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Now you know what embarrassed feels like.” Rachael’s
laughter echoed louder than the
clicks
of their cell phone cameras. “Look at her. She’s got the body of a twelve-year-old boy.”

Amanda nodded in agreement. “What does that say about Jaxon?”

Rachel laughed just a little less hard, scowling at the insult.

Brea
crossed her arms over her chest and wept, turning her face away.

“It’s almost worth getting a video,” Rachael said. “How many hits you think something like this gets?”

Amanda doubled over, her face red and her eyes filled with tears of laughter. “Hey, Brea, good news: we finally figured out how to make you popular.”

Brea thought she’d die from embarrassment. A thousand scenarios played out in her head as she imagined videos and photos uploaded to social media. She told herself the girls wouldn’t risk their graduations, but part of her knew better. Their families had money and a habit of buying them out of trouble.

Probably why they were always in it.

“At least now Jaxon can see what he w
as missing,” Rachael said.

“Nothing much.”
Amanda wiped her eyes.

The locker room door opened.
Amanda and Rachael fell silent.

The door lock
clicked
and they backed away. Rachael immediately stopped filming.

Brea turned to
see what they were looking at, but her hair kept her in place.

“Put the phones on the floor.”
Harmony.
“I’m not going to ask twice.”

Rachael and Amanda complied.

“Look, this doesn’t have to get out of hand. It’s done,” Amanda said.

Harmony moved into Brea’s periphery and set
a hand on her shoulder. In her other hand was a pocket knife. “Are you all right?”

“Please, just drop this,” Rachael said
.

“Shut the hell up.
Brea, answer me. Are you okay?”

Brea’s
head was pounding, but more than anything, she was afraid of what was about to happen. “I’m fine. Harmony, don’t do anything crazy.”

“Crazy. Man, do I hear that word a lot.”
Harmony blocked the only clear shot to the door. “Step on the phones.”

“What? I’m not going to do that,” said Rachael.

Harmony grabbed her by the hair and held the knife to her cheek. Amanda could have run, but most likely knew better. Sometimes running made things worse. “Smash the phone and save your friend the scar.” Amanda stomped her phone screen and it cracked. “Again. Harder.” She let go of Rachael. “You, too.”

Rachael tearfully complied, smashing her phone into bits.

“You realize that doesn’t change anything.” Amanda had always been the tougher of the two. “The photos and videos are backed up. Breaking the phones doesn’t erase what’s on them.”

“I’m not stupid,” Harmony grinned, “and I’m guessing neither are you two
bitches. Smart phones back up, but smart
people
know enough to delete those files. Call the smashed cells a lesson. If I hear so much as a hint that anyone’s seen what was on them, that you didn’t get rid of every shred of evidence, it’s not just the phones that are going to get broken. Consider this a favor. Bullying is a big deal. These photos get out and you’re looking at a cancelled graduation, best case scenario. Brea’s uncle is a cop and will likely get creative with the charges, but none of that is anything compared with what I can and
will
come up with. In case you haven’t heard, I’m a girl with nothing to lose. We’re going to walk out of here and no one is going to say a goddamned word. Now who has this lock’s combination?”

But of course, someone had said a word. The minute the bell had rung, Amanda and Rachael ran to Principal Anderson, clutching their smashed phones.

No matter how thankful Brea had been at the time, Harmony holding Amanda and Rachael at knifepoint set off a domino reaction that had them
all in deep shit.

Harmony, who claimed to only be trying to scare them, had more than succeeded. Even Brea, who had doubts
she would ever really hurt anyone, wondered if the threats were more than a convincing act. 

Sitting
next to her in the chairs outside of Principal Anderson’s office, Brea didn’t know what to say.

Ms. Simmons, the principal’s assistant, put a sign on the door directing anyone
needing help to go to Guidance. She placed several hushed phone calls, and in a matter of minutes, both Amanda and Rachael’s mothers had arrived.

“You piece of trash!” Nadine Moore went straight for Harmony, a blur of blond hair and red lipstick that was narrowly intercepted by Officer Ruiz, the trooper assigned to their school.

“Mrs. Moore,” he wrestled her back, “this isn’t productive. Your daughter’s in with Principal Anderson. She’s safe. Please, come with me.”

Carla Warren ran through the door and embraced Rachael, both of them in tears.

As screwed up as it sounded, Harmony’s heart was in the right place. She didn’t stand for much, but what she defended was ironclad.

Harmony insisted what she’d done was not only called for, but had to be done. “They had it coming, Brea. They were
going to spread those pictures, those
videos
, all over the internet.”

“I know, but a
knife
? Couldn’t you have just punched one of them out or something?” Weapons didn’t just lead to detention or expulsion, there were legal ramifications, and when Brea’s Uncle Jim walked through the Main Office door wearing his police uniform she was certain he’d come to get that ball rolling.

Tears filled
Brea’s eyes as she flung herself at him in an attempt at keeping him away from Harmony. “This is my fault, Uncle Jim, please—”

He’d hone
d a new version of ‘the stare’, one that had his dark eyes burning right through her to Harmony, who for all the trouble she was in, kept her chin up and refused to cry. “I’m going to talk to Principal Anderson and the girls’ mothers, briefly, then I’m taking you home.” He turned to Ms. Simmons. “Were you able to get in touch with Ms. Wolcott?” Ms. Simmons shook her head.

“My mother’s in the hospital,” Harmony said.

Brea knew he already knew it.

“
I need to speak with the other girls’ mothers, but given the circumstances, I hope to get any court appearance postponed and avoid an arrest. Harmony, is there someone you can call to pick you up if they agree?”

“Yes, sir.
Thank you.”

“
Don’t thank me. You’re not off the hook, young lady. Not even close.”

He
disappeared into Principal Anderson’s office and his deep, bass voice echoed through the wood door.

“He isn’t here to arrest you, at least,” Brea said. “That’s got to count for something.”

“I guess.” Harmony shrugged. “What would be the point since I’m headed to Midtown anyway?”

“Don’t even think like that. If you don’t try to stay here for yourself, stay here for me. We’re
this
close to graduation. Do you know what Rachael will do to me if you’re not here?”

Officer Ruiz flashed them a look that
Harmony took as an indication to whisper.

“There’s no way they’re letting me graduate, Brea. Not publicly, anyway. I’ll be banned from the ceremony at the very least.”

Brea sighed, knowing Harmony was right. “Adam’s going to be so pissed.” With Charity still in the hospital, Brea couldn’t think of anyone else Harmony could call to come get her.

“I’m not going to tell him.”

Principal Anderson’s door opened and Uncle Jim walked into the lobby, shaking his head. Deep lines spread across his forehead and his normally rigid posture slumped slightly forward.

“You ready
, Brea?” She picked up her backpack and nodded. “Do you have a coat?”

She was still wearing her gym shorts and a t-shirt. “It’s in my locker.”