One Way (7 page)

Grounded also means chores. My dad sends me to clean out the garage. When I've finished that— he keeps it pretty clean—he sends me downstairs to clean out the basement. That takes all of twenty minutes. My parents are neat freaks. My dad is worse than my mom on that score. Annoyed, my dad tells me to ask my mother for something to do. She gets me to help her make a cake for my dad and frost it with chocolate icing. She puts the radio on while we work, and we have a great time. My dad harrumphs at her, but he doesn't yell. He loves chocolate frosting.

We have the cake for dessert that night. It's so good that my dad and I each have two pieces, with ice cream. When it's time for bed, he thanks me for the cake.

I lie in bed all that night thinking about Mandi again. I don't know what she thinks she saw, but I know she's wrong. I would never do what she said I did. I think about why it is, when things are already bad, they get worse instead of better. I think about Stassi and why I was stupid enough to be jealous of her and Logan together when it turns out that Logan doesn't even care. I think about how I hurt her—really and truly hurt her—and how, when it comes right down to it, it doesn't matter whether I did it on purpose or not. It won't change things for her. It will only change things for me. I think maybe I deserve something bad to happen to me after what has happened to her.

I think about what a jerk I've been. She'd called me and said she wanted us to get back together. She'd missed me. And instead of taking that for what it was, I gave her an ultimatum. Him or me. But really, she wasn't choosing between him and me. She was choosing between having a boyfriend who should have been proud of her for landing the female lead in a play and a boyfriend who was so jealous he couldn't understand that she could do what she wanted and still be the best girlfriend a guy ever had. She was choosing between the me she had fallen in love with and the me that jealousy had turned me into.

I was such an idiot.

I think how much I want to see her. I want to help her too, no matter how badly she's hurt. But her folks won't let me. They were mad enough when they thought it was an accident. But now? Now that they think I did it on purpose, they probably hate me. I'll never be able to get close to her. I'll never be able to tell her how sorry I am.

I wish someone else had seen what happened. I wish it more than anything, mainly so that I can have a chance to see Stassi.

I also think about my parents. I think about how my mom is always on my side. I remember how she took me to the hospital to see Stassi. I think about how disappointed she was when she heard what I did to Logan. I think about my dad and his ranting. I think how much more of that I'm going to have to hear before this is all over. If there's one thing that's hard to listen to, it's my dad in full rant mode.

I sit up straight in bed.

I wonder…

I jump up, turn on my computer and log onto the Internet.

I can't find what I'm looking for.

I feel like throwing my computer across the room, but I don't. There's no way my dad would replace it. I take another look. There haven't been any new posts in days. Is that good?

All of a sudden, I can't wait for it to be morning.

Finally it's seven o'clock. I dress. I eat breakfast. I leave for school. I even get there early, not that it does any good. All I get for my trouble is a lot of nasty stares. I have to wait for my lunch period, and then I have to go looking. I go up and down the street near my school where there are restaurants. I go into them one by one and look at the kids who are eating there. Naturally, he's in the last place I look.

“Hey, Stoner.” I wave.

Kegan Stone, aka Stoner, is sitting alone at a table in a burger joint that's practically deserted, which is pretty much how he likes things. When I call his name, he looks surprised and glances over his shoulder to see who this person is who has the same name as him. That's because even though I know him, I know him mainly because of his website. Everyone knows him because of his website. But he doesn't know me. We've never actually spoken.

I walk over to him and introduce myself. He blinks at me.

“I follow your site,” I say. “I love your rants.”

He posts them several times a week, and they're always entertaining. He rants about school, about teachers, about the useless stuff we learn. He also rants about the city and politicians, about war and the way people are quick to react to natural disasters but are pretty slow when it comes to man-made ones. He stands outside of the school, points his phone at himself and lets fly with whatever's on his mind.

“You haven't posted one in a few days,” I say.

“Yeah, I've been in planning mode,” he says. He squints at me. “What did you say your name is?”

I tell him again.

He nods, but his face is blank.

“So,” I say, “how long have you been in planning mode? Because I swear I saw you doing a rant last week— Wednesday, in fact. But I don't see it up on your site.”

He shrugs. “I was repeating myself. That's when I figured it was time for something new.”

“So you did record one last Wednesday?” I'd seen him out on the street, standing across the street from the school, the way he always does. Standing with his back to the school, the way he always does, so that the school is always—always—in the background.

“Yeah, I think so,” he says. He pulls out his phone, turns it on and stares at it for a few seconds. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess I forgot to delete it.”

I see his thumb move toward the Delete button.

I grab the phone from his hand.

“Hey!” he says.

“Can I see it?” I ask. What I'm thinking is, That was close.

He relaxes and shrugs again.

“Go crazy,” he says.

I watch the video of his last rant.

There he is, with the school directly behind him, while he talks about exams and how they prove nothing. It's no help at all. Then the phone moves and there's a side view of him saying that all the exams show is that some kids are good at memorizing stuff. Behind him, I can see the buildings up the street. Still no help.

Then the phone moves again.

Again there's a new angle while Stoner talks how the brain doesn't work exactly the same way in every single human being.

I see a white delivery van. I don't listen to Stoner's commentary anymore.

I see someone on a bicycle turn onto the street. It's me.

I see a car go by me and remember the driver who gave me the finger.

I see myself looking over my shoulder at the car.

I see…

It goes by so fast. The next thing I know, the screen is blank.

“I have to see that again,” I say.

“Kenzie,” he says thoughtfully, like he's only just registering my name.

“Yeah.”

“The Kenzie that ran into Stassi?”

I nod.

“Stassi's okay,” he says. “She was my girlfriend in kindergarten. Did you know that?”

I have to say that I didn't. Stassi never mentioned it. I knew she liked him though. And she never made fun of him the way some people did. She said he was smarter than he looked. She said he wasn't made for regular school but that someday, all the idiots who made fun of him were going to be surprised. She said he wanted to make movies. She said he would be great at it.

“I need to see this again, Stoner.”

He takes the phone from me and fiddles with it, and it plays again. This time he watches it with me.

“Whoa,” he says softly just before it ends. “Did you see that?”

“I need you to post this,” I say. “And I need you to send it to my phone.”

“No problem,” he says.

Then I remember that I don't have my phone.

“One more thing,” I say. “I need to borrow your phone—after school.”

Naturally, he isn't sure about that. I tell him what I want to do. I also tell him why.

“Anything for Stassi,” he says.

Chapter Eleven

I meet Stoner after school. Maybe I should have gone directly to the police. But I need to clear this up in my own mind first.

I spot her.

“Wait here until I call you,” I tell Stoner.

He nods.

I wave to Mandi.

She looks at me, uncertain.

“I need to talk to you,” I tell her. “About what happened.”

“I'm not going to change my mind, Kenzie. I told the police what I saw.”

“You have to do what you have to do,” I say.

“So what do you want?”

“I want to know why you did it.”

“Did what?”

“Lied.”

“I already told you—” she begins.

“You lied to me. You told me that you heard Stassi say she was going to dump me the day before I actually dumped her.” Stassi had come backstage and said she wanted to be in the play, and she didn't see why that had to come between us. Technically, she had broken up with me. But I was the one who made it happen.

“I told you what I heard.”

“Maybe it's just what you wanted to hear,” I say. “Stassi called me the night before. She wanted us to be together. She didn't want us to break up at all.”

Mandi doesn't say a word.

“I think you should tell the cops the truth, Mandi,” I say.

Her eyes look hard when she says, “I already did.”

I call to Stoner. Mandi frowns when he walks toward us.

“Show her,” I say.

“Show me what?”

Stoner opens his phone and turns it on. He holds it out for her to see. She watches with a sour expression on her face at first. Then she starts to look nervous. When it gets to the part where he's captured her shoving Stassi, pushing her right out into the street, she makes a grab for the phone. Stoner's been expecting that. He jerks it away from her and tucks it safely back into his pocket.

“The cops are going to see that video,” I tell Mandi. “You can talk to them first and tell the truth. Or you can wait for them to come knocking on your door.”

She starts to cry.

“I didn't mean for it to happen,” she sobs. “I just—why does she have to get everything? Why is it never me?”

I know I should be mad, but I'm not. I actually feel sorry for her.

“You have to tell them, Mandi.” And then, because I'm a little nervous about what she might do, I tell her that I'll go with her.

“Me too,” Stoner says.

I look at him.

“I've got the goods,” he says, holding up his phone.

On the way to the police station, Mandi says she's sorry. She says it over and over. She says she didn't mean for it to happen. Yes, she was mad at Stassi. She'd lied to Stassi too. She'd said that I had asked her out and that I wasn't interested in Stassi anymore. But Stassi said she didn't believe her.

“She's as crazy as you are, Kenzie,” Mandi says. “Even after everything, she just wanted to be with you. And she knew in her heart that you wanted to be with her. That's what she said to me. She said, ‘I know it in my heart.' And that's when I pushed her. I didn't even see you. I pushed her, and the next thing I knew, someone on a bike ran into her. I was sure I was going to get into trouble, but no one saw me.”

Stoner pats the pocket where his phone is.

“No one except Stoner's phone,” Mandi says. “I'm sorry, Kenzie. I—I was mad at you too. You pushed me away.”

I keep my mouth shut the whole time because I'm afraid if I say anything, I'll get her mad all over again. Not that it matters now that we have Stoner's video. But I'm tired of everyone being mad at me.

Mandi talks to the cops. Stoner shows them his video and, when they ask him to, sends it to one of the cop's phones. Mr. Grossman shows up because I called him and asked him to. My dad is with him. He's angry, probably because he thinks I did something else stupid. He calms down when he finds out what's going on.

“So Kenzie is good then,” he says to Mr. Grossman. “He's not in trouble.”

“He's still liable to a fine for the illegal turn onto a one-way street,” Mr. Grossman says. “And he's still got that assault charge. But if he pays the fine and apologizes to Logan McCann, maybe he can get away with a suspended sentence.”

I'm happy to do whatever I have to as long as someone makes sure to tell the Mikalczyks that I didn't hurt Stassi on purpose. Mr. Grossman agrees to handle that.

Chapter Twelve

I'd like to say that I'm so brave that I turn down my mother's offer to go to the hospital with me the next day. But I'm not that brave. I'm glad she's with me. I even let her do the talking. I'm pretty sure she's nervous too, but she walks up to the Mikalczyks all the same.

“I guess you heard by now what happened,” I hear her say. “I guess you know that Kenzie didn't hurt Stassi on purpose.”

Mrs. Mikalczyk turns to look at me. She comes toward me. Mr. Mikalczyk starts to follow her, but Mrs. Mikalczyk puts her arm on his and says something quietly to him. I don't understand what she says. She isn't speaking English. She comes to where I'm standing.

“Stassi woke up,” she says.

I feel myself shake all over. My mouth is dry. I'm afraid to say anything, afraid to ask.

“She doesn't remember what happened,” Mrs. Mikalczyk says. “She can't remember a lot of things.”

Poor Stassi. I feel awful. I know that I would never have hit her if Mandi hadn't pushed her out into the street. But that doesn't make things better, not even remotely.

“But she remembers you,” Mrs. Mikalczyk says. “She's been asking for you.”

“She has?”

Mrs. Mikalczyk nods. She even smiles a little.

“Can I see her?” I ask, glancing over at Mr. Mikalczyk.

She takes my hand and leads me down the hall, past my mom and Mr. Mikalczyk, and into the room where Stassi is, still hooked up to some machines, but without that tube down her throat anymore. Her eyes are closed, but she opens them when she sees me. She smiles, and right then, right at that moment, nothing else matters.