Let Me: Let Me Fall Part 14

I ignored him Chase: Now.

Me: I'm not going to the prom with you.

Chase: I'd reconsider if I were you.

Me: I've made up my mind.

Chase: Then get ready to suffer the consequences, b.i.t.c.h.

His last line hit me like an eighteen wheeler. Big, fat, ugly tears welled in my eyes before spilling over. My phone pinged again. It was from Samantha. Another picture of Jeremy and Vanessa, this one shot from behind as they walked together, hand in hand, in what looked like the school parking lot. Again, Vanessa's newest batch of tattoos was visible, proving that this had been shot within the week. It didn't prove anything but it burned.

I took the phone and hurled it against the wall with force, watching as it connected and small pieces of plastic chipped off and scattered. I walked over and bent down slowly to retrieve it, screen cracked beyond repair, hazy gray and white lines darting across its surface. I tossed it into my bag, and as I sat in the quiet of the empty cla.s.sroom for those few remaining minutes, I was relieved to be out of everyone's reach for a while.

I sat through the next two periods in a daze. As I took my seat in AP European History, my last cla.s.s of the day, I saw Jeremy peering in the door's window, looking as if he'd raced to try and catch me before the bell rang.

Too late, I thought bitterly, breaking our gaze and looking back down at my notebook.

We were sitting in groups of four, working on our last project of the year. I really hated group projects, as I always seemed to take on the bulk of the work. This one was no exception, as the two boys in the group were happy to let me and Tori basically complete the entire thing. I was glad to be working with Tori, though; she was smart and shouldered responsibilities with me. Happier still because even though I'd only considered her an acquaintance up until now, she was one of the few people in the "it" crowd who still spoke to me and treated me with some measure of civility. Those people were becoming more few and far between.

Twenty minutes into cla.s.s, hushed gasps and low laughter seemed to overtake the room. At first I thought nothing of it but then it became more widespread and slightly louder. When the two boys in our group looked up at me in unison, wide-eyed and smirking, my heart sank into my shoes.

Chase.

Chase had threatened ruin me and now he was making good on his promise.

Every eye in the room was on me. Tori looked down to her phone, which had pinged about twenty times within the last minute. A moment later she looked to me, horrified, and grabbed my hand. I felt stiff as a cold sweat swept over my body. "Grab your stuff," she whispered in an urgent tone. She murmured something to the teacher along the lines that I was sick. When the cla.s.sroom door closed behind us and we were out in the empty hallway, she began repeatedly chanting what sounded like a soothing mantra, "You're okay, Carolyn. I'm gonna get you outta here. It's gonna be ok."

I followed along, mute, nearly catatonic. I let her lead me out the door, across the parking lot and into her car. She even fastened my seatbelt for me. Then she drove. She drove past my house, past Main Street and kept going until we were clearly out of town. She pulled off to the side of the road where there was an overlook. We sat in the parked car, both of us looking straight ahead for a few minutes. "Let me see it," I finally said, devoid of emotion.

The message read: Good girl or hot little piece of a.s.s? You decide.

Attached was a picture of a naked girl bent over, being taken from behind. Her head had been photo-shopped, replaced with a picture of me, smiling happily. I opened the car door and vomited on the asphalt.

Tori gave me tissues and water. "Let me see it again," I said.

This time I saw there was also a link to a video. It looked as if it was being shot without Greg Henley's knowledge. As if someone-Chase-was holding the phone in his hand while aiming it at Greg, whose face would shift in and out of the frame. Didn't matter about the picture, really, because the audio was perfect; Greg's words were crystal clear.

"I can't believe you were with that little goody-two-shoes, Carolyn Harris." Chase said.

"Yeah, she was sweet," he said, a sense of nostalgia dripping from his voice. "But not exactly innocent," Greg added, smirking.

"You were her camp counselor?"

"No, a.s.shole, we were both counselors."

"Oh, right," Chase said. "So what's the Hat Trick Henley name mean, anyway."

"You know," Henley said, pausing to down a shot of some clear liquid. "The hat trick. I had her every which way."

Chase guffawed. "Wait. So you are telling me that you nailed Carolyn Harris in the a.s.s? Are you serious?"

Greg raised his hand as if he was being sworn in for President. "My hand to G.o.d."

"d.a.m.n, that's hot. I always suspected her A-student, pure as the driven snow-act was bulls.h.i.t."

"She had a hot little body, even back then," Greg added.

At that point I had to let myself out of the car. I fell onto my knees and threw up again. Tori was right by my side, crying along with me. "I don't want to tell you it's ok, Carolyn, because it's not. He's the lowest life form there is, you know?"

"It's not true, Tori. I didn't do that. It's not true."

"I know, honey."

"It doesn't matter if it's true or not, everyone will believe that it is. They'll get off on thinking that it's true."

"f.u.c.k. Them. All. I mean it, Carolyn. f.u.c.k anyone who is that cruel. I've got your back, do you hear me? People will have your back."

It was dark by the time Tori took me home. By then I'd watched the video, in its entirety, four more times. Each time I watched it, I imagined someone else seeing it. I imagined my parents finding out-their horror, their shame. I imagined Drew, disgusted and angry. It was safe to a.s.sume he would believe the worst about me. I imagined that Samantha and Erica would act stunned and sorrowful but in truth, they would be bursting with glee witnessing my fall from grace. Lastly, I imagined Jeremy seeing the video.

Jeremy.

Fear twisted its way through my body and took hold.

My eighth period Spanish cla.s.s was rowdy to begin with-Senra Nunez had zero cla.s.sroom management skills-but today it was downright ridiculous. About halfway through cla.s.s the constant low murmur of chitchat and subtle laughter turned into full-on anarchy. Frequent calls of "oh s.h.i.t" and "d.a.m.n, baby" were the soundtrack to what felt like a movie rolling in slow motion. Everyone was either laughing or gasping in shocked amus.e.m.e.nt as they checked their own phones or held the screens out so others could view what was being shown.

My own phone was vibrating in my pocket. As I was reaching for it, Vanessa burst into the cla.s.sroom, darted towards me, grabbed my hand and led me out into the hallway.

"What the f.u.c.k?" I forcefully shrugged her off.

"Don't do anything stupid, all right?"

"Vanessa, what are you talking about?"

"I sent you a picture this morning, a picture of your babe in a compromising position with that a.s.shole, Chase Sterling."

"Yeah, I saw it. That was a s.h.i.tty move."

"I don't think there's anything to that."

"I know there's not."

"I'm a b.i.t.c.h, Jeremy, I am. I wanted you to hate her. But d.a.m.n, this is bad...this is f.u.c.ked up."

I let out a frustrated breath. "I have no patience for you right now, Vanessa, so say whatever it is you want to say."

"Just don't do anything stupid. I know you care about her but she's not worth wrecking your life over."

With that, Vanessa cued up a video and I took the phone from her so that I could hear the grainy audio. About ten seconds in I knew exactly what I was listening to: Chase chatting up the guy who'd wrecked a part of Carolyn. He looked just like I'd imagined; Henley was a pretentious little p.r.i.c.k with a snooty-a.s.s accent. What he said about her? The lies? Made me want to rip him limb from limb. I closed out the video only to see the foul picture and caption, Carolyn's sweet face a cruel joke.

Chase was going to die.

"Jeremy, wait," Vanessa pled.

"Take your phone," I said, shucking her off, "and get the f.u.c.k out of my way."

I ran back towards Carolyn's cla.s.s again, Vanessa trailing behind me like an irritating pest. I peered through the window right as the last bell rang. No sign of her. I watched them file out, everyone buzzing, laughing, reveling in her agony. I wanted to choke each and every one of them as they walked out of the room and joined the cacophony of the crowded hallway.

No one noticed me, though. I had no connection to her as far as all of them were concerned. So they didn't censure their crude comments. I asked one guy, "Where's Carolyn Harris? Did she leave cla.s.s early?"

He answered, laughing, "Back Door Harris? Yeah, she le-"

He didn't get the last word out before having his head slammed into a locker. "What the f.u.c.k did you just call her?"

"Relax, Rivers. Jesus," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

I stormed out the doors, heading for my truck. Vanessa ran up and s.n.a.t.c.hed my keys from my hand. "You need to listen for a minute, Jeremy."

"Give me the f.u.c.king keys."

"Why? So you can drive to that a.s.shole's house, beat him to death and then go to jail?" She stuffed the keys down her pants when I went to s.n.a.t.c.h them back. Vanessa grabbed my forearm and leveled me with her gaze. "Be. Smart. Rivers."

"He deserves what's coming to him."

"Yes, he does. But you need an insurance policy and I have it." Vanessa now had my attention. She gestured to the truck and said, "Get in."

I was able to slink into my house that night without attracting much attention, feigning a headache, the need for a quick shower and bed.

Falling into a blissful sleep was not in the cards, though. My stomach was tight with agony as I lie in bed, the covers tucked up tight around my chin. When my mother entered my room, I draped the blanket to cover most of my head so that she couldn't make out the red splotches and swollen eyes that surely marked my face by this point. Her loving touch as she caressed my hair and then laid a kiss on the top of my head nearly broke me. How I wanted-no, needed her comfort right now. But no, Mommy could no longer step in and make it all better for me. I was alone in this.

All alone.

With my phone busted, Jeremy-one of the few people who would still want to communicate with me-couldn't reach me. He knew where I lived, though, right? No, he won't abandon me, I rea.s.sured myself. I believed that deep in my soul. Aside from my family, he was the one person in this world who would have my back, wouldn't he? Samantha's comments, though, the pictures, thoughts of Vanessa...doubt crept in and took hold.

When I was still lying awake, wide-eyed and fretting at four in the morning, I logged onto my page. My body tensed in fear as I saw the hundreds of new friend requests. That couldn't be good. The posted comments indicated that Chase's video was making the rounds; my peers at Darien, Weston, New Canaan and Wilton High Schools were now all in on the joke. Basically all of Fairfield County thought I was a s.l.u.t.

I had no intention of going to school that Friday-me, the girl with nearly perfect attendance. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face the biting laughter, the knowing leers, the gossip. I felt weak from a lack of sleep but weaker still from humiliation. It didn't matter that the worst part of Greg Henley's story was an abject lie. Perception was everything. Everyone would believe it, every word-the more sordid the details, the better.

"Tori? Come in, sweetheart. It's so nice to see you."

My mother's voice carried but I could barely make out Tori's words. "Let me see if she's ready," my mother went on. "She was really tuckered out last night. I think she slept twelve hours."

At the sound of the phone ringing, Tori called out, "You grab the phone. I'll go up and get her, Mrs. Harris."

"Hey," she whispered as she sat on my bed and nudged me.

I rolled over. The look on her face told me what I already knew: I was looking pretty wretched. "I can't go in there, Tori. I'm taking the day."

"I understand...but seriously, Carolyn? Do you think it's going to be better on Monday? Maybe you should just face this head on. Show that a.s.shole, Chase, that you're not affected by his bulls.h.i.t." She laughed as she said, "I wouldn't miss today for the world. I was up half the night thinking about the exact words I'll use when I curse him out."

The only reason I wanted to go to school was to see Jeremy. To make sure he was all right, that he didn't do something impulsive yesterday-something that would get him expelled. I also needed to know...was he still on my side?

"I don't know, Tori."

"I'll stick by you, Carolyn. Plenty of other people will too, you'll see."

I seriously doubted that last bit, but the need to see Jeremy was strong. So against my better judgement I dragged my a.s.s into the shower. Exiting the bathroom with wet hair pulled into a messy bun, dressed in gray sweats and a long-sleeved gray tee shirt, I was greeted by a wide-eyed Tori. "Oh, no, no, no," she declared, approaching my closet. "Today you need a power outfit. They way you're dressed now? You look like a puppy just begging to be kicked."

"I just want be incognito, to blend into the background, you know?"

As she sifted through my clothes, pushing hangers along the metal rod noisily, she shook her head and said, "Nuh, uh. Today you want wear an outfit that projects confidence. One that says: Don't f.u.c.k with me, b.i.t.c.hes."

She pulled out my black skinny jeans, a snug, dark raspberry colored turtleneck and my cropped black, leather jacket. The tags were still on the jacket. It was edgy and hip and although I loved it when I bought it, I never really felt like it was for me. Every time I tried it on with an outfit, it looked all wrong. Like I was a poseur, trying to be someone I wasn't. Carolyn Harris did not wear tight leather jackets...but apparently today, I did.

"Perfect," Tori crowed, laying the items out on the bed. She went back and rummaged through my shoes, pulling out a pair of black, low-heeled ankle booties that looked like cowboy boots. "Love these. Love the pointy tip." She kicked her foot out like a ninja. "Perfect for damaging a certain particular guy's nut sack."

She wasn't done with me. I was usually a wash-and-go girl on school days but today I went in with under eye concealer, foundation, blush, mascara and a liberal swipe of raspberry colored gloss on my lips. As I looked in the mirror, I had to admire, albeit indifferently, her skill as a make-over artist. I almost looked normal.

Twenty minutes later I reluctantly walked through the doors of Westerly High.

A janitor was furiously scrubbing my locker door as I approached. He was removing the T that completed the word s.l.u.t, the remnants of each letter faded but not totally erased. Underneath, some pig had drawn a p.e.n.i.s ensconced between two plump b.u.t.t cheeks. The janitor hadn't gotten to that yet.

I stood frozen, not listening as Tori whispered empowerment sentiments in my ear. It was early but a few people were already milling about in the halls. Two boys who looked to be freshmen sn.i.g.g.e.red brazenly as they walked by. A girl I spoke with regularly in AP Calculus lowered her head, actively avoiding contact with me as she walked by.

I jumped when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Taylor staring at me, expressionless. I a.s.sumed she was here to lay into to me. To remind me that karma's a b.i.t.c.h. That when you s.l.u.t shame other girls-as I had indirectly done to her by standing by, pa.s.sive, as those in my group gossiped viciously about her-then you deserved what you got.

"f.u.c.k them all."

"Excuse me?"

"f.u.c.k them all, Carolyn. Hold your head up high and don't give any of those a.s.sholes the satisfaction. Own it."

I felt tears in my eyes then as Taylor did the most unexpected thing. She took my hand in hers and raised her chin up just a fraction, in a stance of defiance. "Come on, let's go to homeroom."

Tori smiled at Taylor and then took her place on my other side. They walked me to cla.s.s, buffering me from the stares and whispers as the hallways filled with the morning rush.

No sign of Chase.

No sign of Jeremy.

"Where's Carolyn?" I demanded, as Mrs. Harris opened the front door.

"Jeremy," she said, startled by my tone and by my appearance. I'd forgotten that my nose was busted and I was probably sporting a black eye. I'd forgotten that my knuckles were bloodied and swollen. Add to it that it was one of those nasty, damp March days and I was sporting only a threadbare, short-sleeve tee shirt.

"What's happened to you?" Mrs. Harris asked, alarmed.

"I-I'll tell you later. I just need to talk to Carolyn. Where is she?" f.u.c.k, I started to cry. It was too much: the shock, the sadness...the f.u.c.king grief, fear, confusion...all of it.

Mrs. Harris was looking at me wide-eyed, answering absently, "She left already. Tori picked her up early this morning. Please, Jeremy," she pled. "Please tell me what's wrong."