Cornerstone (13 page)

Garrett’s face is totally calm, as if Kris is just a tantruming little kid. But, when Kris exhausts himself and lies still, panting on Garrett’s hood, the look on Garrett’s face changes. The furious predator I saw in the kitchen this morning reappears slowly, darkening Garrett’s eyes to the color of raging waves. He keeps his fist curled into Kris’s shirt but his voice lowers to a snarl that no one would’ve heard if the parking lot wasn’t so deathly silent.

“Don’t ever say that about her again.” Garrett growls. “I will crush you, Lukevitch. Got it?”

Kris is wide-eyed, like a bird flying into the wheels of a semi. He’s speechless until Garrett clenches his teeth and repeats, “GOT IT?”

“Yeah, Classic, got it. Fine. Bad joke.” Kris says. Garrett loosens his grip. The silence breaks and the murmurs around us rise up like frustrated bees, unsure of who to sting. A girl squeals to a friend,
Did you see how fast Garrett can move?
and some guy makes the same sound as air released from a tire. Kris gets back on his feet, straightening his shirt like he’s trying to straighten the new creases in his image.

Garrett stands in front of me, his arms dangling at his sides, as if nothing ever happened. Kris rolls his shoulders away from his neck.

“You got to relax, Reese.” he says with another twitchy roll.

“Apologize.” Garrett says.

“What?”

“You heard me. Apologize. To her.”

One side of Kris’s mouth lifts in a chuckle that flattens quickly under his cheek. His face turns somber when Garrett doesn’t let up on his stare.

“You want me to say something? Like what? Like Sorry? That’s what you want?” Kris spits the words from the side of his mouth, never once looking at me. “Fine. Sorry. You know I’m only saying it ‘cause we were wrestling brothers. That’s it. Sorry. I can say it all day. It’s nothing. Sorry.”

Garrett steps forward. Even though Kris doesn’t back away, I see his small eyes flutter and he swallows hard. His Adam’s apple bobs like a tiny sinker caught in a heavy current.

“It is something.” Garrett says. His voice is so low that I doubt anyone else hears it but Kris and I. The two of them are toe to toe in front of me.

“I’m ready for ya now, Reese. You wanna go?” Kris smirks.

It was a mistake. Garrett has a hold of him instantly, flipping Kris’s cinderblock torso onto the Riviera’s hood again. Kris comes down with a crash this time. The parking lot goes motionless and silent again.

“Do
you
want to go?” Garrett snarls. When the shock wears off, Kris looks Garrett right in the eye and slowly shakes his head.

Kris turns his face toward me, as best he can on the damaged car hood. His eyes find me for the first time, even though they stay anchored on my chest.

“Sorry, all right?” he says. “No offense.”

I just nod. Garrett lets go as the bell rings and Kris slumps away without looking back. The crowd releases all around us and I see Audrine and Jen, their eyes narrowed on me, as they slide off Jen’s car and follow Kris into the school.

Garrett leans down and picks up my backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. I am about to stuff my hands into my pockets but Garrett takes hold of one and extends his cool fingers between mine. My palms sweat until he smiles at me.

“I’ll walk you to class.” is all he says.

~ * * * ~

“So, did he say he’s your boyfriend now?” Cora asks. She’s passed me two notes with this same question in the hallway already and now she’s cornered me in the bathroom on my way to lunch. I’m looking at the points of her white Ked’s, parked under the door of my bathroom stall. Unable to escape her, I just flush the toilet and slink out. Cora backs up with a pulled-taffy smile, tacked between her ears.

“Well?” she asks. “Did he?”

“It’s not like that.” I tell her. I don’t mention that I’m still wondering exactly how it is myself. All I know right now is that whatever is going on between Garrett and I, it feels really good and I can’t help thinking that any minute my real life is going to come back into focus. Cora’s eager smile doesn’t let up.

“I saw you two holding hands and I know he’s walking you to all your classes. Is it because of Kris Lukevitch?” She yanks a shredded tissue from her sleeve and dabs her nose excitedly. “I heard Kris called you...you know...and then Garrett almost busted his face! Nikki said that it was Kris that tried to rape you in the woods...”

“What?” I spin around from the sink to face Cora. “What are you talking about? Nobody thinks anything like that and I wasn’t...nobody tried to rape me!”

Cora puts her hand on my cast and pats it.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “You can trust me. I’m not going to tell anybody what happened.”

“Seriously, Cora! No one tried to rape me! And it definitely wasn’t Kris Lukevitch in the woods.”

“Then who was it?” She moves in like I’m going to whisper the answer to her. “What exactly happened?”

“I got hit with a shovel. That’s it. I never even saw the guy that did it. He had a ski mask on. But it wasn’t Kris Lukevitch. It was probably some homeless guy.”

“Why would a homeless guy put on a ski mask to hit you with a shovel?”

“I don’t know!” I throw my arms in the air, wanting to backhand the hungry expression off Cora’s face. She steps away from me, but her brow deepens with the pitiful compassion of a drug counselor, trying to convince a user of their denial. I can tell by the way things are going that Cora is going to do everything that she can to make sure I stay a rape victim until I graduate. Ugh.

“Well, what are you doing for lunch? Are you going out with Garrett or are you guys staying here?” she asks.

“I’m staying here.” I say. “I don’t know what Garrett’s doing.”

My entire body sinks as I say it. Garrett has been walking me to my subjects, but he wasn’t waiting at the door of this last class. Now I’m on my way to lunch, alone and without anything to eat, because I wasn’t about to ask Mrs. Reese for a sandwich and I wasn’t going to ask my mom if she had any money in front of all the Reeses. I was thinking that I could make it on the glow that filled my stomach all morning but when Garrett wasn’t outside the door at the last bell, the glow had dimmed and now my stomach is feeling really hollow.

Cora pushes her glob of tissue into the cuff over her wrist and I wonder why she never just throws them out. She sniffs and begins carefully, “Do you think...that maybe he’s following you around because you...you know...you
did it
with him?”

This sounds even dirtier coming out of Cora, with her snotty tissues stuffed up her sleeves.

“What?” I squint at her. “What are you talking about? Why would you even say that?”

“Well, that’s the other thing I heard.” she says. “Nikki said that Regina told her that Jen saw you and Garrett...you know,
doing it
...in the woods. Was it before the homeless guy hit you with the shovel?”

Whatever expression is on my face is enough to shut her up. She rubs her hands together, fingering the bulge in her sleeve.

“That’s just what I heard.” she adds quietly.

“And none of it is even true!” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop any tears from burning into my eyes. I think of how Cora could say the right things that could actually help stop the rumors, and how she won’t. Following rumors with the truth is like having a banana split for dinner and broccoli for dessert.

I turn and go back into the stall and slam the door shut. Instead of apologizing or trying to straighten anything out, the rubber soles of Cora’s white Ked’s squeak on the bathroom tiles and I plug my ears so I don’t have to listen to her leave.

I come out of the stall five minutes later and sit on the edge of the last bathroom sink, looking down onto the front lawn of the school. I watch Garrett leave in a hurry two minutes later and all the hope and happiness I’ve had this morning sinks into my shoes. There’s no clock in here, so I start counting to sixty over and over again, trying to keep track of how many times I do it, so I can gauge when the bell will ring, sending us all back to classes. I count to sixty only eight times since I spotted Garrett and it’s hard to stay focused because I keep scanning the lawn for his return.

I’m on my tenth count when someone bangs on the bathroom door. It sounds like someone hammering the door with a fist as they pass, the way the jocks do to show how tough they are. I ignore it because it’s not like this is my house and I’m not obligated to answer the door or anything. I’m too miserable and hungry to worry about it anyway, counting and watching for Garrett.

But the second time someone bangs, I figure it can’t be coincidence and it’s probably Mrs. Rousch, the school janitor, so I shout, “It’s open!”

The door squeaks and I twist on the sink ledge to see who’s there. Jen is standing in the opening with Regina right behind her. This isn’t good. I slide off the edge of the basin, landing on my feet.

“Hey,” Jen says, walking in. She’s wearing a pleated, white skirt just like her cheerleading uniform, a white eyelet blouse, and high, white, gladiator heels. She’s blinding against the dingy beige of the bathroom tiles.

Regina, however, is nearly camouflaged, if it wasn’t for her blotchy, red face. She sneers as she addresses me, “Waste.”

Jen laughs and Regina joins her, but I keep quiet, watching the door. They align themselves in front of me, blocking my exit. I feel the whir start in my chest. I am calmed by it, as if I have an ally in the bathroom now too.

“I thought you might want to apologize to me.” Jen says. Regina’s smile, over Jen’s shoulder, is sickening.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Regina asks, stepping so close to Jen that there isn’t even air between them. “I told you Jen was gonna get you.”

“For what?” I say.

“Really, Waste?” Jen tips her head to one side, like she’s got to dumb down whatever she’s going to say so I can grasp it. “You’re going to stand there acting like you don’t know? You think that trying to steal Garrett isn’t going to make you any less of a total loser? No matter what you do, everybody in this school already knows that I’m the one dating Garrett Reese. And it’s going to stay that way.”

I should shut up, I know I should, but I can’t.

“Does he know?” I ask, tipping my head the same way Jen does. “Because he’s never mentioned you. Not once.”

You would think, wearing so much white, that the head cheerleader might try to talk or even yell her way out of something like this, but instead, Jen throws down her purse with a growl and lunges at me. The chaotic spinning inside of me is immediate. The gears align and spring open. The protective bubble surrounds me before Jen can even get her fingers on me. Without consciously calculating it, my feet shuffle to the side and Jen shoots straight past me, stumbling in her gladiator heels and tumbling down onto her knees. The hem of her skirt rips. Jen shrieks at the sound and jumps back on her feet, her hem swaying over her kneecap like a slack jaw.

“You’re going to die!” Jen screams, and we’re both surprised when my body jerks forward, instinctively avoiding Regina as she hurls herself at me from behind. Regina misses me completely and her angry growl just sails alongside me. She fumbles and runs head-on into Jen. They knock each other off balance and land in a dirty heap on the even dirtier bathroom floor.

I should keep my mouth shut, I should.

But instead, I say, “Ewww.”

Both of them push themselves back onto their feet. The bathroom door is maybe five steps behind me, but I know better than to turn my back on them to run. I won’t make it. Instead, I stand there with my hands hanging loosely at my sides and thinking—as I pop out of myself and stand, looking at my own body—that I should probably stand more defensively so I look like I know what I’m doing. It turns out that it doesn’t matter though, as Regina charges me like an angry Viking.

I can’t tell if she’s moving slowly or if my mind is just moving faster. There is no slow-mo vapor trail behind her; it’s just, somehow, incredibly easy for me to see where she’s aiming and to get out of her way. I want to reach out and tap her shoulder as she passes, just to tweak her, but I can’t move my arm. All I can do is get out of the way. But that, I do really well. Regina runs past me and goes head-long into the wall-mounted tampon dispenser.

“That bloody well hurt.” I quip in an English accent.

Jen shrieks and runs at me, her arms Frankenstein’ed in front of her. I watch her coming, thinking of how mortified she would be if she could see her own face. Again, my body adjusts on autopilot, moving a hair to the right and Jen crashes to the floor again, but this time, the heel of her shoe cracks off and skitters over the tile like an icicle.

“You bitch.” Regina turns away from the dispenser to face me, cupping her left cheek in her hand. I can already see the bruise curdling under her skin. Jen is hobbling to her feet, the foot in her broken gladiator twisting, as she struggles to stand without the spike of the heel. At first her face is contorted murderously and then, the smile that blooms in its place looks even more horrifying.

“She beat us up.” Jen tells Regina, her tone full of shock and innocence, as if she just realized it herself. “The Waste just beat us up.”