In Too Deep Page 11

  I pull the door open and sink into the bucket seat of her little Chevy, buckling in as she tosses her backpack into the messy back seat. “You okay with pizza? Tracey wanted something cheesy so she was going to meet us at the place in town. Hope that’s cool.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  The car fills with silence as she pulls out of the lot, heading toward the pizza and pasta joint where half the school hangs out. Neither of us speak as we cross town, and by the time we get to the restaurant, the silence is heavier than ever.

  Tracey and Macy are already here, climbing out of Tracey’s jeep. She gives me a bright smile and a wave as she heads toward us.

  “Hey guys!”

  “Hi,” I say, chewing on my lip. This is weird. Uncomfortable. Nick’s been my only friend for so long, and no one has ever really cared to invite me to things. And now I’m having dinner with three girls who’ve hardly looked my way for the last few years.

  I fidget under their gaze, glad they’re more intent on pizza than me, because a moment later we’re seated in a booth, menus spread out in front of us. I keep staring at it, even though I know all I want is Hawaiian.

  “Did you see Matt Lewis’s hat today?” Macy asks.

  I look up and shake my head.

  “It was this hideous orange newsboy thing. Seriously, you should have seen it. Truly heinous.”

  I laugh, which surprises even me.

  “I like your shoes,” Tracey says, nodding at the ballet flats I’m wearing. They’re plain brown with a silver buckle on the toe.

  “Oh, uh, thanks.” I smile, a little uncomfortably, and busy myself with unwrapping the straw and putting it into my water glass. I never know what to do when someone actually compliments me. Thank them? Compliment them back?

  “So what are we going to do about Carter?” Macy asks.

  I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we heard about him freaking out on you in the hall. And so Tracey and I talked about it over lunch, and something needs to be done. You should feel safe in the halls at school, not like he might attack you again at

  any moment.”

  “Brent just keyed her car, too,” Veronica adds.

  “That’s messed up,” Tracey says. “We really should

  do something.”

  “Oh, uh … ” I let out a bark of uncomfortable laughter. “I mean, I don’t know that there’s anything we can really do, you know? And it’s not like he’d really attack me at school.

  “But it’s not just about what he did to you,” Tracey says.

  “It’s not?”

  She shakes her head. “No. It’s about what he does to everyone. I spent the entire weekend in the bathroom after he dumped me, pretending to give myself a spa weekend so that my mom wouldn’t come in and see my bloodshot eyes from crying. I had to keep the tub on for an hour to cover up the sounds of my sobbing as I lay on the floor, curled in a ball. And you know what Carter did?”

  She purses her lips, raising one brow and staring me down. “He went camping with his guy friends, and they ended up getting together with some girls from the camp next door. I heard all about it on Monday at school.”

  Macy leans in. “And even though I wouldn’t sleep with him, he told everyone I did.”

  I lean back. How can he be this guy and the one who has such a golden boy reputation? How could I have missed things that should have been so obvious?

  I sigh. “I think we should just let this all blow over, you know?” I let out a weird hiccup of laughter and wave my hand around in the air.

  “Blow over ? After what he did to you? What he’s done to all of us? The guy deserves a little bit of what he’s got coming to him,” Tracey says.

  My mouth goes dry, tastes chalky. “Uh, what does he have coming to him?”

  Tracey and Macy look at each other and smile. I dart my eyes over to Veronica, but she’s just nodding her head.

  “Wait, what do you have against Carter?”

  She gives me a pointed look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear the rumors about me freshman year.”

  “That’s when we were friends. And no.”

  “Spring of freshman year.”

  “Oh.” My mouth goes dry. I did hear some rumors about her, but they were so beyond ridiculous I never gave them a second thought.

  She stares for a long second. Then she rolls her eyes. “Carter asked me out.” She pauses. “What? Don’t look so shocked. Anyway, he wasn’t a god yet. He’s not my type either way, so I said no, and he told everyone I was a

  lesbian.”

  I choke on the water I’m sipping. Yeah, those were the rumors I heard, but I just dismissed them. Sort of. Maybe I almost believed them, because Veronica started getting into feminism. But I never thought they had anything to do with Carter. I never thought someone started them maliciously.

  Maybe that’s the point.

  “I’ve spent the last three years getting harassed about that. And no one ever asks me out, because they think it’s true. I’m going to graduate high school and I’ve never been kissed.”

  “Oh.” God, is that really true? The more I know the Carter that other people know, the more I hate myself for falling for his façade. But he was the villain the whole time. The idea makes my stomach churn.

  “So anyway,” Tracey says, “we were all talking, and we think you need to press charges. You might be able to get an emergency restraining order or something, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him. And then he couldn’t go to graduation or the party. You’d be safe that way.”

  My stomach drops like a lead weight. “I can’t do that. I can’t take graduation from him.”

  Macy leans in. “It might be harder to get because you didn’t go to the police right away, but we think it’s important. You need to report him. It’s not okay for him to get away with this.”

  It’s hard not to dart my eyes away. Instead, I meet hers. “No. I don’t want this to be bigger than it already is, and if I did that, it’ll just be more difficult for me. Everyone already knows, and they stare at me. In the halls, in the cafeteria, in class.”

  “This is important,” Veronica says. “Wouldn’t you feel guilty if it happened to someone else, and you could have stopped it? You need to be brave for a while longer and go to the police.”

  Macy gets this soft look on her face and reaches out, resting her hands on mine. There’s something off about all this. “Sweetie, it happened. Not pressing charges doesn’t mean it will go away. We’ll go with you, if you want.”

  I pull my hand away, feeling sick to my stomach, the world pressing down on me. All of them are here right now because they think Carter wronged me like he wronged them. They don’t know I’m already ruining him. They think Carter is capable of rape and they’re here to somehow fix it for me. They want to help me get over something that never really happened.

  I’m disgusted with myself. And I can’t do this any

  longer.

  “I can’t press charges,” I insist.

  “You have to,” Tracey says.

  “But he didn’t do it,” I blurt. Instantly, my cheeks flame hot. I swallow, glancing nervously from one girl to the next, ready to leap to my feet and run.

  The three of them exchange looks again. “What?” Veronica finally says.

  “He never … ” My voice comes out shaky, unstable. I lower my voice, rest my hands in my lap because they’re trembling out of control. “Raped me.”

  Macy stares at me as she sips her water, and Tracey sits back in her chair. “But—”

  “Have you girls decided what you want?”

  I stare at my lap as the waitress scribbles down the pizza order, my cheeks still burning. The girls stare right at me, waiting. When she finally leaves, I want to go with her.

  “So you just … made it up?” Tracey asks.

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t like that. Someone else started the rumor. When Veronica asked me if it was really true, I didn’t even know
what she meant. I was too embarrassed to ask, so I just nodded my head.”

  Tracey leans in. “But why? If you never accused him of that, why did everyone think that?”

  I chew on my lip. “I was drinking, and I never drink. I went into his room and I tripped, and my shirt ripped on the handle to his dresser and I bruised my cheek. He helped me up … ” I dart a look at Tracey. “He thought I went into his room to throw myself at him, or something. And I didn’t, not really. But he told me I was too ugly

  to hook up with. I followed him out of his room in tears and Michelle Pattison saw me and must have started

  the rumor.”

  The silence lingers forever, but it feels good to finally let it out. How can I tell the truth to three girls I hardly know, and not to my best friend?

  Tracey crosses her arms as her gaze lingers on my face. “And you went along with it?”

  I swallow, nodding. “When you two came up to me in the cafeteria, I still had no clue what you guys thought Carter did. I was just nodding to get rid of you. It was at least an hour later before I overheard some girls in the bathroom and realized what everyone was saying.”

  I feel shaky, weak, unsure, ready to run all the way home if all this goes wrong. I never planned to tell them this, and what will they do? Rush back to school and tell everyone I’m a big fat liar? Retaliate, on Carter’s behalf? Hate me?

  “I swear to you, if I’d understood what people thought had happened, I would have set them straight immediately,” I finish. “But by the time I figured it out, it seemed too hard to fix it.”

  They all sit back, exchange glances. Veronica picks up a fork and kind of spins it around. Tracey chews on her lips as she stares down at her nails. The silence is heavy enough to choke on, and I just want to slide under the table, hide out until this is all over.

  “Wow,” Tracey finally says.

  “Yeah. Wow,” Macy chimes in.

  Veronica just keeps spinning the fork.

  Macy lets out a long, slow sigh. “You know what’s weird, though?”

  I shrug, feeling kind of nauseated now.

  “I never doubted it.” She glances over at Tracey. “As soon as I heard the rumors, I totally believed them.”

  “Me too.”

  “Me three,” Veronica says, looking kind of sheepish.

  “That’s pretty bad,” Macy says, turning back to

  me. “That we didn’t even consider whether he might be innocent.”

  Tracey gives her a look. “It’s not our fault, it’s his. I mean, if he’s the kind of person who makes it easy for everyone to believe it, he’s not a very good guy.”

  Macy chews on her lip. “But shouldn’t we have given him the benefit of the doubt? We’re like a lynch mob or something, just believing it right away.”

  Tracey shakes her head. “No. I’m telling you, it’s his actions that made the rumor believable. The things he’s done to us. It’s a given that we’d believe it, because we know who he is.”

  Veronica’s lashes flare, and she seems to brighten. “Exactly. So you totally shouldn’t feel that bad.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know that everyone believed it. They just like gossip.”

  Macy gives me the look. “They believed it. Trust me.”

  “I have to fix it, though. I just don’t know how. The gossip spread so quickly and it’s like it spiraled out of control, and I’ve been so afraid of telling anyone the truth.”

  “You don’t have to tell anyone,” Tracey says. Her eyes dart to Macy and Veronica. “It’s about time Carter got what he deserves.”

  My jaw drops. “I can’t do that. This is … ” I lean in closer and lower my voice to a whisper. “This is rape we’re talking about, not some petty rumor. It’s serious.”

  She shrugs. “So? The guy’s an asshole and he’s spent his entire high school existence as some untouchable god, and he needs to be taken down a notch.”

  I clench my jaw. I can’t believe this.

  Or maybe I can. Didn’t I think the same thing at some point? That he’d sort of earned this by everything he’d done? Hadn’t I said that to him on Facebook?

  But a couple days of lying and forever are two different things.

  Aren’t they?

  “This isn’t just a notch,” I mumble. “It’s rock bottom. Doesn’t get much worse than this.”

  Tracey and Macy lean back and stare at me from across the booth. A second ago they felt like allies, and now they look like it’s me against them. “Did you know he’s moving to California right after graduation?” Tracey asks. “No one will care about some stupid high school rumors. Two more days, Sam. Then graduation, and he’s home free. Carter can handle a few freakin’ days where he’s not worshipped by everyone in a hundred-mile radius. Then he moves away and this all disappears.”

  And this all disappears.

  “But, it’s not right,” I say, my voice no longer quite

  so resolute.

  “And it’s right to let him walk around as if he’s Mother freakin’ Theresa? Come on, Sam. Take the easy route and let the rumor run its course. He’ll move away, and you can go on with your life as if none of this ever happened.”

  As if none of this ever happened.

  I swallow and look over at Veronica, who gives

  me a nod and a slight smile. “Please? I’ve spent three

  years dodging the rumors he created about me. This is

  just one week.”

  I clear my throat. “But people are vandalizing my locker. Threatening me.”

  “We’ll have your back, and once school is over, they won’t be around to do anything. And when Carter moves, they’ll just forget about it.”

  “But if I agree, that means no more revenge. No retaliation beyond this rumor.”

  Maybe most of the people at school don’t believe it anyway. It’s just a rumor. Maybe it’s harmless. I can handle the threats and harassment for a couple more days, if it means avoiding the truth. Then the rumor will die down and everyone will forget about it.

  Tracey and Macy exchange another one of their glances, and then beam at me. “Deal.”

  Relief swoops through me. I don’t have to face it head on. It just goes away when Carter leaves town.

  Just like I wanted.

  Fourteen

  This morning I found another note in my locker, one that simply says Tell the fucking truth, but otherwise, I’ve managed to avoid Carter today. He can’t figure out what to do to me during class, so all I get is harsh glares. In the halls we’ve had at least three near-misses, but he hasn’t been able to confront me. It’s working. Carter’s at arm’s length, and graduation is the day after tomorrow.

  I’m tired, though. My feet shuffle across the halls. My notebooks are empty and I haven’t slept, either. I spent last night staring at the ceiling.

  When I’m called into the principal’s office for the second time this week, I can’t even pretend to be surprised. My fingers now know the cold steel of the doorknob, my body knows the discomfort of the stiff leather chairs. And thus I find myself sitting down, crossing my ankles, faking as if I’m prim and proper and perfect when I’m

  anything but.

  I clasp my hands in my lap and wait for Mr. Paulson to call me on all the things I’ve done this week. Wait for him to suspend me, to expel me, to tell me he knows what a monumental fraud I am. I’ve skipped class, caused alterations in the halls …

  “I’m sorry to see you in here again so soon,” he says, leaning back in his high-backed chair.

  I swallow, hard, and study his cool expression. Where before he’d been so friendly and accommodating, today he seems suspicious, his head tipped to the side. I slide down in my chair, lean back against the cracked leather and pretend to be unworried, but it’s nearly impossible, because it means my hands can’t tremble and I can’t chew on my lip or pull my fleece sweater tighter around me. It means I have to sit there, stiff and yet faking that it’s natural.

  He s
traightens his tie, an ugly blue plaid thing that belongs in the trash bin. “A student has just informed me that your car was vandalized. And your locker has been vandalized yet again.”

  I’m surprised he knows the car damage happened on school grounds. Someone must have seen the guys before I showed up. Crap. I breathe deeply and nod.

  Today, my locker says skank. Not marker, this time, but actual scratches in the brand-new gray paint. Deep, ugly gouges.

  Gouges I deserve.

  “I’ve looked up your attendance, Miss Marshall. I was not pleased to discover you’ve missed a couple of your courses this week. With unexcused absences.”

  It’s all I can do not to shift in my chair, bite my lip. Instead I stare straight ahead, almost unblinking, and simply nod again, a stiff, unnatural move.

  He clears his throat, then leans forward and stares me down, intense, demanding. A look that would work in an FBI interrogation room. “Now, would you like to tell me

  if these issues are, perhaps, related? Your normal attendance record is nearly flawless, and you’ve never had any behavioral issues.”

  I can’t meet his eyes. I stare out the window, at the little apple tree blowing gently in the breeze, the pink blossoms drifting silently away from the windows. I want to be outside leaning against that tree, my eyes shut, the world far enough away that I don’t have to think about it.

  Mr. Paulson’s chair creaks as he leans back, crosses his arms at his chest. “Miss Marshall, this is a small school. It’s quite easy to know when something is afoot.”

  I turn away from the window and look at him. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “You were in a verbal altercation recently with Carter Wellesley.”

  My heart slams into my throat.

  “If your personal relationships cause issues under this roof, I will cause issues for your pristine school record. Do we have an understanding?”

  I nod.

  “One more incident, with either of you, and I’ll dig much deeper than you want me to. I’ll see to it that one of you—both of you—see consequences. I don’t care who. Just as long as these problems go away. Vandalism, disrespect—it’s not okay in this school.”