Masquerade of Lies (17 page)

“Um…I-I’m sorry,” I stammered.

I stepped back, detaching myself from him. The song we were slow dancing to had finished, and One Direction’s
What Makes You Beautiful
started playing. The dance floor became flooded with students. I turned my head to look at Mark, but he wasn’t there anymore.

“I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” I said. I whirled around and filtered through the crowd. As I dashed towards the bathroom, I overheard a girl shriek, “I love this song!” When I finally reached the bathroom, I pushed on the door and it made a squeaking noise. I looked inside; the bathroom appeared empty. I walked in, stood in front of the mirror, and stared at my reflection. I gripped the sink with both hands and leaned over the sink.
He tried to kiss me!
I thought.
Why would he do that? Is he into me?

I took a deep breath and straightened my back. The music pounded through the walls. I adjusted my hair a little bit and gently touched my face. I thought about the idea of me and Josh as a couple and gave myself a small, delighted smile. I swiveled around and dashed into an empty stall, then locked it when the white fluorescent lights began to flicker. Suddenly, I was in total darkness. A small crack of light filtered onto the floor from the bathroom door opening. I heard somebody walking. With every step, there was a whooshing noise. I peeked through the stall door, but I couldn’t see anything. I leaned my ear against the stall door. I could hear slow, shallow breathing. I was paralyzed. Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door. Then, several more. I jumped and stumbled backwards. I covered my ears with my hands. My breath quickened. Tears began to pool in my eyes. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it was going to burst out of my chest.

Suddenly, the banging stopped. I could hear something, but I wasn’t sure what it was. 

“Who’s there? Wha…what do you want?”

Whoever was out there didn’t answer me. The lights came back on, and my eyes shifted from left to right. As I crept up to the door and put my hand on the lock, it started trembling. I took a deep breath and swallowed a huge lump in my throat. I didn’t hear anything except the buzzing of the music. I slowly unlocked the stall door and pushed it open, then warily stepped out and looked around. I flinched at my reflection, then noticed something red on the mirror. I sauntered a little closer and gasped. Only three words were written in red lipstick:

LET IT GO.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN—MY NAME IS HANNA CLARK, AND I’M A MENTAL PATIENT

I dashed out of the bathroom and thudded into Mark. “Ohmigod!” I shouted.

Mark grabbed a hold of my shoulders. “Hanna! What’s wrong?” I was breathless and tears flooded my eyes.

“Did you see anybody come out of the bathroom?”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know! Anybody!”

“No, I didn’t. I just got here. Why? What happened?”

“Somebody is after me!”

“Who would be after you?”

“I don’t know!”

He put his arms around me and I broke down. “Ssh…it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Can you please just take me home?”

“Okay…okay..let’s go.”

***

It was Monday morning, and I really didn’t feel like being at school. I was still totally freaked out by what had happened at the homecoming dance.

Let it go
, I thought. Who could have written that? Whoever killed Brooke was obviously afraid of getting caught and wanted me to stop digging and just let it go. Then I thought about the fact that Claire was so pissed at me for winning homecoming queen. Maybe she saw Josh try to kiss me and she was warning me to let him go or else?

As I sauntered through the hall, I noticed everybody staring at me. One guy jumped in front of me and imitated a crazy person as his buddies laughed. People all around were whispering and gawking at me.

Stephanie stopped me in the hall and put her hand on my shoulder. “Hanna…I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?” she said.

“Tell you what?” I said, confused.

She handed me a flyer. As I peered at it wild-eyed, my heart skipped a beat. It had a picture of me at Hessner, standing in line for breakfast. I was wearing a pair of blue skinny jeans and a grey sweatshirt. My hair looked like straw. Underneath my picture in big bold letters, it said:  HANNA CLARK IS CRAY CRAY! 

The flyer trembled in my hand.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“I found it taped to my locker.” 

I looked up, and almost everybody had the same flyer in their hands. Dozens were scattered on the floor. I snapped my neck to the left and spotted a few more taped to the wall. Almost every student that walked by had one in his or her hand. They were everywhere.

I ran to my locker, and somebody had spray painted the word FREAK across it. I pried open my locker when a white letter-size envelope with my name on it fell out. I picked it up and opened it, and there was a note inside. It said
I have what you’re looking for. Meet me at the bleachers tonight at 9pm. Come by yourself. No cops
. It was written on blue stationery paper. My breath got caught in my throat as a feeling of dread washed over me; that was where Brooke and I were supposed to meet the night she died.

I looked around to see if anybody was watching me, then I thought,
Of course everybody was watching me. I was the mental patient…the freak of Willowdale High
. Could this morning possibly get any worse? 

I put the note back in the envelope and stuck it in my pocket, then threw my bag over my shoulder and slammed my locker shut. I turned around to find Claire standing there with her arms crossed over her chest; her two minions, Katie and Jessica, standing beside her. Considering what had transpired at Claire’s house, I was surprised to see Jessica at school. Maybe Claire was right. Maybe Jessica OD’ed so often, nobody paid attention anymore. Maybe she was masking her pain. God knows I knew all about that.

“H-hey, guys!” I stammered.

Claire’s lips curled into a snarl. “I took you under my wing and made you popular…and what did you do? You betrayed me. Not only did you go behind my back to become homecoming queen, but you also tried to kiss my boyfriend.”

“I thought you were okay with me being nominated homecoming queen? Besides, he tried to kiss me!” I protested.

She put her hand in my face. “Save it! I didn’t think you would
actually
win!” she exclaimed. “By the way, it’s a shame everybody found out about your little secret.”

“Wait a minute...you made those flyers?” I asked. She flashed a devious smile. “How did you get this picture?”

“I’m Claire effin’ Miller,
Hanna.
I have my ways,” she said, glaring at me with narrow eyes.

I looked at Jessica and Katie and searched their faces, but they didn’t say anything. Katie just typed on her cell phone while Jessica and Claire shared a look.

Claire gave me a forced smile and looked away. “Watch your back,” she warned as she shoved past me.

As Katie and Jessica trailed behind her, I watched them strut away, hoping at least Katie and Jessica would turn around to give me a sympathetic look, but they never did. How could they turn their backs on me like that? Especially Jessica? I’d practically saved her life the other night, and now I was a nobody to her?

The school bell blared. I leaned my back against the locker and closed my eyes, feeling like I wanted to cry. I took slow, deep breaths; Dr. Shaw, my psychiatrist at Hessner, told me to do that whenever I felt the urge to cut myself. He also said I should take myself to a happy place, so I tried. I thought about the time my parents and I went to the beach. I was eight years old. My dad went in the water with me and tried to teach me to float. My mom and I built sand castles. There was no fighting. No talk of divorce. Everything was right in the world. Then I thought about the time my best friend Marisa and I had a sleepover at her house. Her parents weren’t home, so we got dressed up in her mother’s clothes and jewelry. We pretended to be models walking on the runway. Then a memory of Simon flashed in my mind. Then I saw a glimpse of the razor blade slashing my skin. Then another one of me swinging the baseball bat in anger, and all the awful memories came flooding back.

I opened my eyes, and tears began to stream down my face. I scanned the empty hallway. I decided I wasn’t going to class. I had English first period with Claire, and I couldn’t face her again. Not now. Then I realized Josh and Mark were going to see those flyers. What would
they
think of me? 

I had to get out of there. I clutched my bag and sprinted through the hall, stomping over the flyers on the floor in my path.

I ran towards the main doors and spied Josh coming down the hall. He saw me.

“Hanna!” he called. I didn’t stop; I just kept running. “Hanna! Wait up!” 

But I didn’t wait. I was too embarrassed. I came to this school to have a fresh start, and now everybody knew who I really was. I pushed the glass double doors open and sprinted down the stairs, two at a time. Suddenly, I felt a strong clamp on my arm. I whirled around; it was Josh. My bag fell off my shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” I tried to escape his grasp, but he was too strong.

“Wait! What’s wrong?”

“Everything!”

“Look, if this is about the flyer, I don’t care about that.”

“Well, I do! What Claire did was pretty evil, even for her.” 

He let go of my arm. “Claire’s a bitch,” he said. “We know that. Everybody knows that.”

“So why are you with her?” I asked as I pushed some hair out of my face.

“I told you…it’s complicated.”

“Whatever!”

I turned my back to him and just broke down. He walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulder, then gently turned me around and pulled me into him. As he wrapped his arms around me, I dug my forehead into his chest. His grey Loro Piana Polo shirt became stained with my tears, but he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed my back.

“You must think I’m a freak,” I muttered.

“I don’t think you’re a freak, Hanna.”

I lifted my head and saw a red sports car whiz by on the road. I sniffed as I wiped the tears away from my eyes with my hands.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so embarrassed,” I said, lowering my head.

Josh put his hand under my chin and gently tilted my head up to look at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “That’s your past. Everybody has a past, Hanna.” 

I gazed at him, and he smiled. The breeze gently whirled around my hair. As he held my gaze, I quickly stepped away from him because I was afraid somebody would see us holding each other and tell Claire–and I’d had enough drama for one day.

“I just wanna go home. Can I please get a ride?”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Josh said.

We ambled around the school as the brown leaves crunched under our shoes, then headed towards the student parking lot. Josh’s blue Mustang lights flashed as he unlocked the doors with the keyless entry remote. He hopped in the driver’s side, and I slid in the passenger seat. I felt something in my back pocket as I sat down, then remembered the note I’d found in my locker that morning. I pulled out the white folded envelope and buckled my seat belt. Josh clicked his in and turned on the ignition. The engine started to purr, then he glanced at me as he put the car into drive and accelerated.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the white envelope in my hand as he veered out onto the street.

“I found it in my locker this morning.” I took the piece of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it. “Read it,” I said, handing it to him.

Josh gently took it from my hand without taking his eyes off the road. I stared out the window at an old man wearing a grey Fedora hat, walking his dog.

“Are you gonna go?” Josh asked after reading the note.

“I have to. Whoever wrote this note might be able to clear our names.”

“What if it’s a trap? What if whoever wrote this note is trying to hurt you?”

“Well, that’s a chance I have to take. Besides, if they wanted to hurt me, they would have done it Friday night.”

“What do you mean?” he said, handing the note back to me.

I told him what happened to me in the girls’ bathroom at the homecoming dance, how somebody tormented me in the dark and left me a warning on the mirror.

“So, that’s why you took off early,” he said.

“Yeah. I asked Mark to take me home. I just told my mom that I left early because I was feeling sick.”

“Well, I don’t care what that note says. You’re not going by yourself.”

“You’re gonna come with me?”

“Darn right.”

“What if they see you?”

“They won’t,” he said as he rounded the next street.

“You remember where I live?” I asked.

“Yeah…I remember.” 

He put his right hand on my leg, and my skin began to tingle. He pulled into my driveway and put the car into
park
, then removed his hand from my leg and placed it on his knee. My mom was at work, so nobody was home. I glanced at my brown shoebox house, then at him.

“Do…you…wanna come in for a bit?” I stammered, nervous.

He ran his hands through his hair and glanced at the time on the dashboard. “Uh…sure.” 

He cut the engine, and we both got out of the car. The horn bleeped when he locked it. He stuffed the car keys in the front pocket of his Dolce & Gabbana jeans. As we approached my front door, a squirrel scurried up the tree. I pulled my keys out of my bag and unlocked the door. “So…I guess your mom’s at work?” Josh asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

He nodded his head.

I threw my bag on the floor by the door and took off my shoes. “Want a drink or something?” I offered.

“Sure.” 

He slipped off his Givenchy leather trainers and sat down on the couch in my living room. I sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed two Pepsis from the fridge, then took a seat beside him on the couch. When we opened our soda cans, they made a
whooshing
sound.

“So, are you feeling a little better about what happened with the flyers and everything?” he asked.

“A little.” 

The truth was, I didn’t know how to feel right at that time. I was angry at Claire for destroying my reputation at school. I was afraid I might cut myself again. I was nervous about who was stalking me and sending me those notes. Most of all, though, I was relieved…relieved that Josh was there with me.

My phone buzzed; it was a text from Mark. It said:
where are you?
I wrote back:
I decided to go home. We’ll talk later.

I took a swig of my Pepsi as Josh said, “Who was that?”

“Oh…it was Mark.”

“Cool…so, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you spend time…I mean, why were you…” He fidgeted with the lid on his Pepsi can.

“Why was I admitted into a mental institute?”

“Yeah.” 

I sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Before we moved here, when we lived in Deerwood, it was a crappy time for me. My parents were fighting all the time and headed for divorce. I was scared of being forced to choose who I wanted to live with if my parents
did
split up. They walked around the house ignoring each other, and when they did talk, it was to spew hurtful things. I felt…alone. I began cutting myself.” I gently pulled up the sleeve of my multi-striped flannel shirt. Josh stared in stunned silence. “It was the only thing that gave me relief. It got to the point where I couldn’t sleep unless I cut myself.” I traced over the cuts with my index finger. “My parents thought it would be a good idea to go to family therapy, but it didn’t help. Anyway, one morning I met this guy named Simon.” I swiveled my body towards Josh and sat with my legs under my bum, then gazed at him. “I had a huuuge crush on him. At first, it was just an innocent crush…but then something happened, and I convinced myself we were in a relationship. I would follow him home after school. I called him, like, a gazillion times and hung up. I wrote him letters, sent him text messages, and left him gifts. I would get so jealous if I even saw him talking to another girl.” He held my gaze for a moment longer, then looked down. Tears glittered in the corners of my eyes. I lifted my knees against my chest and hunched my shoulders, then bit my lip. “Anyway, one morning at school he told me he didn’t want anything to do with me.” Tears spilled out of my eyes and slowly ran down my cheeks. My voice got shaky. “I got so angry, I went directly to the athletic center, grabbed a baseball bat, and beat the crap out of his car. Then I went into the school and demolished his locker.”