Alice took her sweet time answering the door.
“You forget something?”
“I'm sorry, Mom.” Zoe tried not to sound as happy as she felt.
Alice crossed her arms and let several seconds pass. “You're sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, come on in, then.” Alice disappeared inside. “I'll boil a teabag for that bruise on your face.”
Zoe had felt so great when she woke up that she hadn't noticed the purple welt announcing where Alice had ploughed her the night before. Zoe looked at her reflection in the hallway mirror. She put a fingertip to her puffy cheek, and then she pulled up her sleeve to get the whole effect: swollen eye, bruised cheek and demolished wreck of an arm. She looked awful, but she had to admit that she had never felt better in her whole life.
And they all lived
happily ever after, nowhere near Whitehorse. The end.
Only not quite
. The real end, if there's ever an end to anything, began on the last day of school before the Christmas holidays. The weather nagged at Zoe like a snot-nosed kid pulling on her arm. The sky was bruised and heavy and low, and it hadn't stopped raining for weeks. Zoe missed snow for the first time. She missed making snow angels and the way her nose hairs froze
when she breathed in the cold, dry, northern air. Snow made everything clean and quiet and right. All this rain, it was as if April's God was trying to wash away some awful stain that just would not come out.
Zoe pulled the covers over her head. Just one more day until the holidays, one more day until she could stay in her pajamas and watch movies all day if she wanted to. She trudged up to the school and headed straight for the Dungeon. Leaf wasn't there, but the Christmas issue of the paper was, five tall stacks just outside the door, bound with flat plastic ties. Zoe cut the ties and sent the papers off via the Creative Writing geeks who had a monthly spread in the paper in exchange for delivering them around the school. She kept three papers aside, one for her, one for Leaf and one for April. She unlocked the Dungeon and put their copies on their desks, and then flopped on the couch to look through it. Usually all she looked for was layout errors, but something else stuck out that day. Page two had been rearranged to include another piece. The headline read, “What Would You Do?” As Zoe read the piece, a wave of nausea rose up in her belly.
What Would You Do?
What would you do if you saw someone being raped? This is the first question in what will become a weekly poll. Read the scenario, and then choose the answer that best applies to you. Cut out the answer ballot and drop it in the box outside the Dungeon.
We want to keep the answers confidential, so don't put your name on it. But while you're here, fill out our “WWYD” contest ballots. You could win two free movie passes. If you have a scenario you'd like to see in the
Reporter,
drop it off, in writing, to April Donnellyâ assistant editor.
SCENARIO #1:
You're at the first big party of the year, in fact, it' your first big party ever.
After wishing the drunk birthday girl “Happy Birthday” and being embarrassed by her and her cronies in the kitchen, you go out onto the patio for a bit of fresh air. But as you walk through the yard, you hear a muffled cry come from the bushes. It's a new friend of yours, a small, thin member of the tough in-crowd, and that's not her boyfriend with her. It's another girl's boyfriend. At first you think you've stumbled onto some kind of love triangle, but the girl's cries of protest make you realize that she is the victim of unconsentual sex. She's being raped, and you're a witness. What do you do?
a) Interrupt and take the girl to safety
b) Run and call the police
c) Go inside and get help
d) Nothing
Don't forget to bring your ballots to the Dungeon for your chance to win!
April had read Zoe's
diary.
How could she? After everything, how
could
she? It had to have been the night she babysat Cassy and Connor at Zoe's, the night Zoe lay bleeding to death in the parking lot, knifed, for god's sake, and all the while April was rooting through her stuff and doing to Zoe the exact same thing the Beckoners had done to her.
The realization that April had read Zoe's diary was worse than getting thirty stitches, worse than being slashed. This felt like being ripped wide open, head to toe. And here it was for
everyone to see, on page two of the Christmas issue, the most widely read issue of the yearâpractically the only issue read all yearâbecause of the three pages of seasonal warm fuzzies at the back. People who never picked up the paper read this issue, and there was another entire population that thought the paper only
had
one issueâthe Christmas issue. And worse, by far the worst of all, was that all it would take would be one Beckoner to look at it and they'd know exactly what and who it was about.
Zoe put her head in her hands. She would have to stay in the Dungeon until everyone had left for the day. She'd have to wait until the janitor came by to lock up, and then maybe he could escort her home if she pleaded hard enough, if she begged for her life. She'd have to change schools now, maybe even bus to the next district.
Leaf came in then, three more copies of the paper under his arm.
“Beat me to it.” He kissed her on the cheek. “What do you think? We could use a little hype, huh? The movie pass was my idea.”
Zoe stared at the ballot, at D in particularâthe one she had chosen. April reading her diary, that was bad enough, but Zoe's guilt was worse than bad. It was paralyzing. She was a big fat D. D for nothing. D for failed. D for doghouse, doomed, dead, demolished, destroyed.
“What are you trying to prove?” She forced the words through trembling lips.
“What do you mean?”
“This!” She pushed the paper onto the floor. “What the hell is this?”
“It was April's idea.”
“I bet it was.” Zoe shook her head. “You have no idea what you've done, do you?”
“Obviously not. Why don't you tell me?”
Zoe grabbed her pack and stood up.
“Zoe, tell me what this is about.”
“I need to find April.”
Leaf grabbed her arm. “Zoe, don't go like this.”
“Don't touch me!” She yanked her arm away and slammed out of the Dungeon. The hallway seemed overly bright, the Christmas decorations garish and cheap, the carols piped through the PA system suddenly cloying. There was nowhere to go. There was no point in hiding. Even at a school in another district they'd find her sooner or later.
The newspaper was everywhere. Zoe made her way across the school, barely resisting the urge to rip the paper out of people's hands as she passed. She wished she had telekinetic powers and could set the papers ablaze just by looking at them.
She finally spotted April outside the main entrance, waiting in line to pass through the security station. Zoe glared at her. When April had cleared the metal detector, she hesitated, evaluating Zoe's expression. Zoe had no words yet, but she grabbed April's sleeve, dragged her across the hall and into the girls' bathroom. When she let go, April backed up against the sink and covered her face with her hands.
“I'm not going to hit you,” Zoe hissed. “But I can't think of what I can say to you that would make you understand what you've done.”
April said nothing for a long second. “They won't know how I found out.”
“They will, April. Why did you do it?”
“To get back at them.”
“They were finally leaving us alone, don't you get that? You just gave them the reason they've been waiting for to start again.”
“Why didn't you help Jazz? Were you afraid of them? Is that why you just left her there?”
“You should know. You read my diary.”
“But how could you just walk away from her? What if it was you? What ifâ”
“What if I say that you will never live this down?
I
will never live this down. You thought last year was bad? You just wait.
Once the Beckoners read it everyone will know exactly who you were writing about, and everyone will know that you found out from me.”
“This isn't about you, Zoe. No one will know how I found out.”
“No one will believe me if I say I didn't tell you anything. No one will believe me that you just
happened
to find out. They'll think I told you.”
“Maybe not.”
“Are you that stupid?”
“I didn't mean to get you in trouble, Zoe. I just wanted to get back at the Beckoners. Once and for all.”
“I don't care what you
did
or
didn't
mean to do. You
did
it. And now we are both screwed. Do you even get that? What it means to be screwed?”
“Ask Jazz.” April's expression darkened. “Besides, what have I got to lose?”
“Absolutely nothing, because you are a nothing. And do you know why? Because you are a professional loser. You will always be a loser, and even worse, you're the kind of loser that people go out of their way to hate, because just you breathing pushes people's buttons.” Zoe slapped her copy of the paper hard onto the counter, expecting April to flinch, but she didn't. She held her ground in an aggravating self-righteous way. “You know what, though? Even though it sucks to be me right now, I am so glad I am not you. You are in so deep, April. You have no idea.”
April shook her head in disbelief. “And you still have no idea how wrong it was to not do anything that night, do you?”
“You read what I wrote, April.” A lump in Zoe's throat made it suddenly hard to swallow. “How do you think I felt?”
All traces of April's apprehension were gone. “Not bad enough to do anything about it.”
“You're dead,” Zoe whispered. “I'd disappear if I were you. When the Beckoners come for you this time, it won't be to lynch some plastic mannequin.”
“Like I don't already know that.” April pushed past Zoe and out into the crowded hallway.
The average incubation time
for big-ticket gossip is about three periods, which put Zoe and her chaos in the middle of the cafeteria at noon. She'd managed to avoid the Beckoners all morning and had decided to spend the lunch hour in the cafeteria because that was the last place they'd be caught dead in, especially because the Rejoice In His Name youth group were throwing a birthday party for Jesus, complete with cake and balloons.
The Beckoners were lurking though; she'd heard people mention them in hushed and not so hushed conversations all morning. Word was getting around.
Leaf cut into the food line ahead of Zoe.
“You have to tell me what's going on.” He gripped her shoulders. “This is not good. The whole thing really happened? I printed something true?”
“You could make it a little worse by forcing me to explain myself here.”
“Sorry.” He put two plates of fries on her tray and took it from her. He added two iced teas, and then pushed it along to the cashier. “My treat,” he said. “By the sounds of it, this might be your last meal.”
“It's the least you could do.”
They headed to a table in the corner by the fire escape, as far away from the Jesus freaks as possible. By the looks and jeers, it was obvious people knew it was Zoe in the scenario. People sang in a schoolyard lilt,
“What would you do, Zoe?”
as they passed.
“The Beckoners are looking for you and Dog,” some girl Zoe had never even seen before hollered across the wide room. “I'd watch my back if I was you.” Zoe stopped in her tracks, marveling in the sudden urge to beat up the girl. She'd never had that feeling before. She clenched her fists.
“Ignore them.” Leaf nudged her with the tray. “Keep walking.”
Zoe kept her fists clenched and her eyes forward until they reached the table. Leaf put down the tray and took her hands.
“I didn't know. I'm sorry. She brought it in last night after you left, and I thought it was a great idea. I put it in just before it left for the printers. I'm so sorry.”
“There's nothing you can do about it now. There's no use apologizing.”
“I'll print a retraction. I'll do an editorial in the next issue.”
“It won't do any good.” Zoe stared at her fries. “It's all going to blow.”
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“What have you heard?”
“That it was Brady, and most people think the girl is Jazz, but no one's exactly sure.”
Zoe covered her face with her hands. “I don't believe this is happening.”
“You saw it all?”
She nodded. “I have to get out of here.”
“It'll blow over. By the time the holidays are over, no one will care.”
“I'm not worried about âno one,' I'm worried about the Beckoners.”
“They said they'd leave you alone, though. Those stitches were your ticket out.”
“You believe that?” Zoe looked up. “They'll think this gives them the right to do whatever the hell they want with me, Leaf.”
“I'm just trying to help, Zoe. What can I say?”
“There's nothing to say.”
An awkward silence settled between them. Zoe felt like all the clocks in the world had slowed down to a painfully slow crawl. Each second carved a year out of her life. This day would never end. It would just loop itself over and over. In the far corner, the Jesus freaks were singing a pop version of “Happy Birthday,” clapping and drumming on the tables.
“Do you want to tell me your side of the story?” Leaf asked over the din.
Zoe shook her head.
“The whole school has just the one version, Zoe. Why don't you get your side of the story out there? It might help.”