Authors: Edie Claire
A sick feeling stirred in my stomach.
"Sofia was beat up, Kali," Zane continued,
his voice sober. "And badly. Somebody punched her in the face so hard they
broke the bone above her eye. That’s what the surgery was for. To wire it back
into place."
A wave of nausea rolled through my middle, so
intense I felt like clutching my stomach. But as the bigger reality of the
situation hit me, the nausea was replaced with a white heat of indignation.
"But they can’t possibly think—"
"That Matt did it?" Zane finished for me,
quietly. "Of course they do. Sofia’s family, anyway. None of them know
him, and he’s apparently the only guy she’s mentioned lately."
"But that’s insane!" I protested, unable
to picture Matt striking another guy in the face, much less a girl. He was big,
but he was a total teddy bear—surely anyone who knew him even a little bit
could see that.
Zane hopped off the counter and stood beside me.
"I agree with you. I don’t think Matt had anything to do with it. In fact,
I don’t think he has a clue what’s going on."
"But he needs to know!" I insisted.
"He could be in trouble!"
Zane hesitated a moment. "He
is
in
trouble, Kali. You were right about Rod. Apparently he and Sofia have this
on-again, off-again undying love/possession thing that’s been going on since
they were in middle school. Whether they’re dating now or not, Rod thinks of
her as his personal property."
My eyes widened. "Then maybe
he
—"
"I don’t think so. Sofia’s family does know Rod
very well, and he's above suspicion. But they must have told him what
happened—asked his opinion about who might have assaulted her. Because he
definitely knows about it."
Anger. Hatred. Rage…
"But Rod should know better than to suspect
Matt!" I argued helplessly. "They know each other!"
Zane let out an exhale. "Rod's a guy,
Kali," he said patiently. "He’s bound to be furious over what
happened, his own pride is hurt because he didn’t stop it, couldn’t protect
her—he’s probably just desperate to find a scapegoat."
I closed my eyes with frustration.
"Not everyone believes it," Zane
continued. "Sofia’s cousin—her name is Morgan—she’s been whispering about
it to her girlfriends, trying to convince them, but none of the Frederick girls
who know Matt believe he had anything to do with it. Even Sofia’s family isn’t
sure enough to bring in the police, not when she’s refusing to cooperate."
"What is Sofia saying?" I asked.
"She’s not saying anything. She told the ER
staff she fell down some stairs, but they knew she was lying." He caught
my eyes. "Here’s the thing, Kali. What I’ve been thinking about ever since
I heard all this. You saw Rod glaring at Matt yesterday, while it was still
light out. But there’s no way he could have known about Sofia’s injuries then,
because it didn’t happen until late last night. That means Rod was already
suspicious of Matt, even before this assault."
My stomach did a flip-flop. Lacey had said that
Sofia hung out with older kids…
drop outs, mainly
. The wheels in my
brain turned, and I took a steadying breath. "This probably wasn’t the
first time, then," I thought out loud. "I’ll bet Sofia has a bad-news
boyfriend who’s been beating her up for a while now. A boyfriend she’s been
keeping a secret—particularly from Rod."
Zane’s response was interrupted by a cluster of
chattering girls banging into the bathroom. I pretended to fix my hair in the
mirror, then walked back out into the gym.
"What are you going to do, Kali?" Zane
asked, a warning note in his voice.
"Talk sense into Matt, of course," I
murmured, weaving through the crowd toward where the football player sat,
currently alone. Yet even as I walked, I could see Morgan, flanked by several
of the girls she had been talking to earlier, move deliberately toward him, her
face steeled for confrontation...
"Kali," Zane whispered urgently, "do
you see—"
"I’m on it."
My pace doubled. I cut the girls off in their tracks
and swooped in on the table like a diving bird, grabbing up both cups of punch
and gesturing Matt toward the doors. "Let’s take a walk," I
suggested.
He blinked at me, then rose with a smile.
"Sure, whatever."
We set off toward the exit, and my peripheral vision
caught Morgan and her inquisitorial squad huddled in discussion. I threw Zane a
look. He nodded, and his form blurred. In the next instant, he had joined them.
I led Matt outside into the breeze.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked,
seeming concerned. We polished off our punches with a few gulps each, threw our
cups away, and began a slow saunter around the courtyard. I really didn’t want
to walk too far from the crowd, figuring that Morgan would be more tempted to
confront him—or us—if we were alone. And Morgan’s confronting him was an event
to be avoided.
"I was having a great time," I said
honestly, choosing not to delay. "But I overheard something else, Matt.
And it’s got me really worried."
I did overhear it, I rationalized to my
lie-sensitive conscience. I overheard it when Zane told me about it.
"Oh, Kali," Matt said dismissively.
"Will you stop worrying about this thing with Sofia? It’s just a bunch of
drama."
"No, it’s not," I insisted. "She’s in
the hospital. Last night somebody beat her up so bad they broke a bone in her
face."
Matt’s feet stopped walking. He turned toward me,
the color drained from his face. "What?"
"It’s true," I continued. "Her cousin
has been telling people. Sofia insists she had a fall, but the family knows
better. They just don’t know
who
did it, because Sofia’s been keeping
the guy—assuming it is a guy, which is pretty likely—a secret."
Matt stared back at me for several seconds, evidently
unable to take it in. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked finally.
I wanted to stomp my foot in frustration. It was
nice of him to ask after her health, yes. But seriously. Could he
still
not see the connection?
"I don’t know," I stammered. "But right
now, I’m more worried about you. Rod is protective of her, her cousin and her
whole family are protective of her, and right now they consider you suspect
number one!"
Matt blinked at me for another moment. Then,
unaccountably, he broke into a chuckle. "Are you kidding me? That’s
ridiculous. I told you, I barely know—"
He stopped suddenly, looking at me with undisguised
alarm. "Kali, you can’t possibly believe—"
This time I did stomp my foot. "Of course I
don’t!" I declared. "No one who knows you would! But Sofia’s family
doesn’t
know you. And you’re the guy she asked to the dance! Don’t you get it?"
Matt’s brow creased into a frown. He put his hands
squarely on my shoulders. "So I’ll set them straight," he said in a
low voice. "But it’s nothing for you to worry about."
I stared back into his uncomplicated blue eyes. He
understood the basics; he just wasn’t particularly worried about the situation.
And it seemed to annoy him that I was.
"Matt—"
"Drop it, Kali," Zane’s voice broke
suddenly into my thoughts, confusing me into silence. He seemed to be standing
right behind me. "You’ve said all you can say. Any more is going to
backfire."
"What?" Matt said shortly, dropping his
hands from my shoulders.
"It’s just that—"
"Will you stop?" Zane insisted, his voice
harsher. "He’s
a guy
, Kali. You think he wants to be saved by you?
You keep it up and he’ll get reckless on purpose."
My jaws clenched. I could see it with my own
eyes—Zane was right. The more I played up the danger of the situation to Matt,
the more he would downplay it.
The male ego was
so
freakin’ irritating!
"Nothing," I finished, attempting to
regroup. "So long as you know, I guess you can handle it."
"Thanks," he replied, with an
uncharacteristic hint of sarcasm.
We resumed walking, this time in an awkward silence,
across the green space and back toward the parking lot. The shadows were so
thick we walked through a few, but if they were casting off any emotion, my own
angst was drowning it out.
Matt stopped suddenly. "Kali," he said
softly, taking my hand again. "I do appreciate your looking out for me.
Really."
I looked up into his honest baby blues, and melted a
little. "No problem," I whispered.
We were too far inland to hear the waves, but an
ocean breeze still managed to reach us. It would have been a wonderful night
for a walk…
if only
. I felt a drop of water on my arm and looked up into
a starless, inky sky.
"So," Matt said finally, his voice back to
its usual, jovial tone. "You’re telling your parents you want to go to
Frederick, right?"
The feeling hit me like a blast from a paint gun.
The entire left side of my body stung with its venom, and for a moment, I
thought my knees would buckle.
Pure, unadulterated
rage.
"Zane!" I squeaked, unable to think,
unable to move.
"What?" Matt asked, puzzled.
"What?" Zane asked, surprised.
I let out a string of curses… but this time was
smart enough to keep them in my head. My legs trembled. I broke out in a sweat.
The brisk wind hit my newly clammy skin—and I shivered.
"Kali," Matt said with concern, "are
you all right?"
Rod was here. I knew it with as much certainty as I
had ever known anything. He was here somewhere, just out of sight. He was
watching us. He was waiting for Matt.
I opened my mouth again, but snapped it shut. I
could not tell Zane what I felt—not with Matt here. And I could
not
let
Matt confront the source of that feeling… that raw, burning,
murderous
feeling…
Think, Kali! Think!
I whirled around, but could not tell where Rod might
be. The sensation seemed to be everywhere now, pressing in on us like a pack of
circling wolves.
Inspiration struck. I forced the words into my
throat. "I’m sorry," I apologized, looking around with what I hoped
appeared like mild, curious interest. "You know how sometimes you get the
feeling that someone is watching you?" As I twirled, my gaze met Zane, and
I stared at him hard.
"Yeah," Matt said, "you feel that
now?"
"I do," I confirmed.
"You think Rod is here?" Zane asked
pointedly.
If I could, I would have kissed him.
I directed the slightest of nods at Zane, then
turned back to Matt. I even managed to smile. "But then, I’m always
getting random feelings like that. I really do like this school, even if it is
a little creepy at night. So, it’s official—I’m telling my parents I want to go
here."
Matt grinned back at me, blissfully unaware of my
charade. He took both my hands in his. "That’s great, Kali. Best news I’ve
had all night." His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and for one nail-biting
moment, I thought for sure he would kiss me. But perhaps I had acted too weird
tonight, after all. Instead of leaning in, he contented himself by throwing his
arm around my shoulders. "I guess it can seem a little creepy around
here," he said lightly, hugging me to his side. "Particularly when
it’s about to rain. Not to mention the fact that Oahu is known for its ghosts.
You want to go back in now? The nearest door’s this way."
I nodded gratefully, and he turned and steered me
back in the direction of the building.
We had not moved three steps before Zane appeared
directly in front of us.
"Stop!"
he ordered, his hands
upraised.
Matt continued forward, walking halfway through him.
I stalled in my steps, colliding with Zane’s outstretched arm, noting its
familiar, rippling buzz in my flesh even as my sudden halt caused Matt to
stumble and nearly trip us both.
"Rod’s hiding right around that corner,"
Zane said urgently, his green eyes blazing into mine. "And, Kali…"
I felt my heart drop into my shoes.
"He has a knife."
"Sorry," I squeaked, having trouble
finding my voice again. "I don’t know what I tripped over."
Matt’s clueless blue eyes sparkled again.
"Better watch those ankles," he said smoothly, supporting me with a
firm hand around the waist. "If you couldn’t dance anymore, it would be a
crime. Which reminds me… are you a dancer, like, for real?"
"Let’s go back in the other doors," I said
nonsensically, hoping against hope that he would dismiss the bizarre request
the same way he was dismissing every other bizarre thing I had said and done
all evening.
He did. As I pulled him away from the corner where
Rod lay in wait and back toward the same doors we had exited, he made no
complaint, asked for no explanation… even though the promised rain was already
starting to fall.
"Yes, I’m a dancer," I babbled, irritated,
despite myself, that we had finally gotten to this particular discussion only
to have it play out under duress. "I’ve been taking lessons since I was
six."
"I knew it," he said smugly. "What
kind of dance?"
The rain fell harder. But with every step we took,
the poisonous vibe emanating from Matt’s pursuer seemed to lessen.
"Ballet, jazz, hip hop, modern, tap," I
listed mechanically, trying to calm my mind, even as my heart still pounded
with adrenaline. "But I suck at tap. And hip hop’s not really my thing,
either. Jazz is my favorite."
"You look like a ballerina," Matt
commented.
My eyebrows rose. That was what my teachers always
said—that my body type was better suited to ballet. Why he would think that was
beyond me, but as the image of dull steel glinting in Rod’s unsteady hand
continued to flash in my mind, I put reaching the gym doors ahead of
conversation and maintained our hurried pace.