Secrets & Lies: Two Short Stories (9 page)

“She’s probably too embarrassed to show her face,” I heard one girl saying in the hallway before geometry.

“I bet she moves,” her friend said. “I would die. Seriously. I’d
die
.”

“Hey.”

I turned and saw Brody walking up behind me. I felt myself blushing as I pushed my hair behind my ears. “Hi, Brody.”

“Heading to geometry?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I walk with you?”

“Of course—I mean, if you want to.”

He smiled and fell into place beside me as we headed down the hallway.

“So,” he said. “Elsie James, huh?”

“Yeah it’s… It’s crazy. That video.”

“It’s horrible,” he said. “It takes a sick person to do something like that.”

I glanced at him, sort of turned off that he’d be so harsh toward Elsie. “Really? I mean, sure, it’s weird, but people do weird things when they think they’re alone—”

“No, not Elsie.” We turned the corner into the classroom, and he followed me to my desk. “The person who posted the video. It’s just cruel. Who would do something like that?”

“I-I don’t know,” I stammered.

“You don’t?”

“No. Of course not. Why would I?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. My sister seemed to know who did it and since—never mind. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He sighed. “I just feel bad for Elsie. I don’t know her very well or anything, but she must be really humiliated.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m sure she is.”

“Take your seats. Take your seats,” Mr. Daud said. “We’ve got a lot of work to get done this week before your test on Wednesday, so let’s get started. Please.”

“See you later, Bailey,” Brody said.

“’Bye,” I murmured.

I watched him walk across the room and settle into his desk. And I sort of kept watching after that. Brody was the first person I’d heard condemn whoever posted the video—and that made me like him even more. What would happen if he found out it was his sister? If he found out I’d been part of it? Because I had, whether I meant to or not.

My heart sank even deeper into my stomach.

“Psst.”

I turned around, and the girl behind me handed me a folded piece of paper. I took it quickly and tried to be discreet about unfolding and reading it so that Mr. Daud wouldn’t confiscate it.

I already knew it was from Justine.
DON’T TELL. YOU’LL GET THE SAME AS ELSIE. SEE YOU AT LUNCH! YOUR JEANS ARE SUPER CUTE, BY THE WAY. XOXO, JUSTINE.

I folded the note back up and slipped it into my purse. I tried to stay focused on what Mr. Daud was saying about obtuse triangles. I was worried that if I didn’t, if I let myself think about everything else, I’d end up throwing up. Or crying. They would be equally embarrassing.

I hated what Justine had done. I hated what was happening to Elsie. But in the few days I’d been friends with Justine, I’d gotten everything I wanted. Brody Frasier was talking to me. Some of the most popular people in the school knew my name. I ate at the best table in the cafeteria. I was finally making close friends. I didn’t want to give that up for Elsie—someone I barely knew.

And Justine was right. No one would believe me if I told on her. They’d think I was lying, and I’d lose everything for nothing. So it was better to just keep my mouth shut.

But I couldn’t help feeling guilty. Really guilty.

And I only felt worse when I saw Elsie and her parents walking into the school just before art class, last period. I was drinking from the water fountain near the front entrance when they passed me. Elsie had her head down, but I could tell her eyes were red. Like she’d been crying. A lot.

“Rumor has it her parents want to press charges,” Wendy whispered once they were out of earshot. We were in the same class and had decided to walk there together.

“What kind of charges?” I asked.

Wendy took a sip from the fountain and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Child pornography, maybe. That’s what Ryan heard.”

“Really? But she wasn’t naked.”

Wendy shrugged. “I don’t know what the rules on that stuff are. But her parents are pissed. If anyone ever found out it was Justine, she’d be in serious trouble. And me, too, since I’m the one who set her phone to record. But it was her phone and she uploaded it… There’s a chance she’d be expelled.”

“W-what do you think the chances are of her getting caught?”

“Not likely.” We started walking toward our class. “She set up a fake e-mail for the YouTube account and sent the links through it before shutting down the e-mail—she’s really freaking smart. That’s why no one ever found out what she did to Gretchen.”

“Who’s Gretchen?” I asked.

“Oh, right. You didn’t go to middle school with us.” She lowered her voice. “She was this girl in Justine’s class two years ago. This girl was obsessed with Justine and her friends. Total stalker. Justine got sick of it, so she pretended to be friends with the girl and managed to get hold of her diary. Then she totally started a blog—posting all the embarrassing entries. I read the blog. It was
awful
. So hilarious. The girl totally moved away after that.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

“Yeah, but, like, good riddance. She was a creepy stalker. Anyway, I’m just hoping this gets Elsie to quit the cheerleading squad. I figure moving away is a little too much to hope for,” Wendy said. “I’m sick of her bossing us around and acting like she’s so great. Maybe this will teach her to get over herself.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled.

But on my way out to the bus that afternoon, I saw Principal Roth walking Elsie and her parents out of the building. And Elsie didn’t look like a girl who needed to get over herself. She looked like a girl who needed to be put back together.

Principal Roth made an announcement the next day, asking for anyone with information to come forward.

“Our school has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to bullying,” he said over the intercom. It was first period, and I could feel Justine looking at me from across the room in geometry class. “This is bullying of the worst kind. The persons who filmed and posted this video will face serious consequences.”

But I kept my mouth shut all week.

I was glad when the weekend came. Because it meant I had a couple days away from all of it. But also because on Saturday, my brother and stepsister started their spring breaks and got to come home from college for a week. The only problem was that if anyone could tell I was keeping a secret, it was my brother.

“What’s up with you?” Nathan asked while we were hanging out in his room, watching
The Dark Knight
on his laptop.

“Nothing. What are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “I can tell something’s bothering you. You didn’t even try to make Whitley or me watch
Bring It On
with you again. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t always want to watch
Bring It On
.”

“Since when?”

“Since… can we just watch
The Dark Knight
, please? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So something
is
bothering you.”

“No.”

“Well, you’re definitely hiding something,” he said.

“No, I’m not.”

“Is it a boyfriend?” he asked. “Is that what you don’t want to tell me?”

“Nathan,” I groaned.

“Jesus, leave her alone.” Whitley, my stepsister, passed the open bedroom door, carrying a basket of clean laundry. “I know you’re her older brother, but you’re being even more annoying than usual.”

“I haven’t seen her since Christmas,” he said. “I’ve got three months’ worth of annoying saved up just for her.”

“Whatever,” she said, dropping the basket in her room, just across the hall.

“How are you already doing laundry?” I asked her. “You just got here.”

“She’s been putting it off for weeks,” Nathan said. “She’s had this massive pile of dirty clothes in her room. They barely fit in her suitcase.”

“Ew,” I said.

“What? It
costs money
to do laundry at school,” she argued. “Screw that.” She walked into Nathan’s room and sat on his bed next to me. Nathan swiveled his desk chair around to face us. “And it’s not like I
wore
the dirty clothes. I’m not a freak.”

“That’s debatable,” Nathan said.

Whitley stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed. “I love you. And your maturity.”

“Among other things,” she said.

They smiled at each other.

Their flirting was gross, I guess, if you didn’t know the story. Last summer, just before my mom married my stepdad, Whitley and Nathan had started dating. It had been a little dramatic at first—Whitley’s dad, Greg, was
so
not cool with it—but eventually things had calmed down. Sometimes it was kind of weird, but they were happy with each other. And I guess that’s what mattered.

“Man, I wish I were on spring break, too,” I said. “I hate that I’ll be at school all week while you’re here.”

“We’ll see each other in the afternoons,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. That’s not enough. And what about you guys? Mom’s at work all day. I’m at school. Greg is at the station. You guys are here alone. What do you even do?” I paused, then squeaked. “Ew! Don’t answer that. Ew, ew.”

“Oh my God, shut up, you little perv!” Whitley said, laughing as she shoved me off the bed. Nathan, on the other hand, just looked mildly horrified.

“Nate!” Greg called from downstairs. “Can you come down here a second?”

“Sure!” Nathan yelled. He stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told us. “And when I get here, we are watching this movie. I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“Okay, Nerdthan,” Whitley said.

“You’re
so
clever.” He rolled his eyes.

Once he was out the door and we could hear his footsteps on the stairs, Whitley turned to face me. “Okay. So now that he’s gone, tell me what’s up.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Enough with the bullshit. We both know that he’s right and you’re acting weird. So what’s the deal? Secret boyfriend? Secret girlfriend? Come on. Spill it.”

“It’s nothing like that,” I said, looking down at my lap. “It’s… it’s worse.”

“Oh… Oh, Christ, are you—you’re not pregnant, right?”

“What?” I almost screamed. “No! Oh my God.”

“Thank God,” Whitley said. “I almost had a heart attack.”

“I don’t—I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I stammered. “I’ve never… I haven’t had… you know.”

“Yes, I know. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, well, if it’s not that, then what is it? Stop beating around the bush here. I don’t have the patience for it.”

I sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. I stood up and walked over to Nathan’s computer, clicking away from
The Dark Night
’s main menu and logging onto the Internet. “Come here,” I told Whitley.

She stood up and came over behind me. She didn’t say anything, though. She waited while I loaded YouTube and found the channel Justine had set up. There were more than five thousand views, which meant people outside of our school—which only had four hundred students—had seen it, too. I clicked play, but I closed my eyes while she watched. I didn’t want to see it again. Not after seeing Elsie’s face on Monday.

“Who is this?” Whitley asked after a few seconds.

“A girl from my school. She’s on the cheerleading squad with me.”

“Ugh. What is with this goddamn town and weird Internet harassment?” she asked. “This is disgusting.”

It felt like something sharp had stabbed me in the gut. I’d forgotten until just then that Whitley had dealt with this kind of thing when she first came to Hamilton. People were posting pictures of her at parties on this really mean, hateful Facebook page. That was actually how everyone ended up finding out about her and Nathan.

That Facebook page had made things in Hamilton horrible for Whitley. And none of the pictures were even of her in her underwear.

Suddenly, everything that was happening to Elsie became even more real. Even more my fault for accidentally giving Justine the idea. For keeping my mouth shut because I was too scared of being humiliated myself.

“Why exactly are you showing me this?” Whitley asked.

“Because that’s my secret,” I told her. “I know who posted this video.”

“So?”

“So I feel terrible!” I said. I logged off the Internet and got up from Nathan’s chair. “I feel guilty.”

“Why? You didn’t post the video…. Right?”

“No.” I sat down on the bed beside her. “But my friend did…. Well, I thought she was my friend. It’s this girl named Justine. She doesn’t like Elsie, says Elsie’s not worth knowing because she’s an arrogant social climber. She did this to embarrass her—to take her down a notch, I guess.”

“Ew,” Whitley said. “Sounds like Justine’s the one not worth knowing.”

“She’s the most popular girl in the freshman class,” I said. “If she likes you, everyone wants to be your friend.”

Whitley sighed and ran a hand through her long brown hair. “I do not miss high school,” she said. “I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t told anyone she did it?”

“Yeah. Well, that and she said she’d make my life as miserable as Elsie’s if I did.” I bit my lip. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Okay, Bailey, no one over the age of eight is a tattletale.”

“Fine. A rat. A narc. Whatever. I don’t want to be
that
girl, Whitley. But knowing she did it—and knowing how upset Elsie is—is killing me.”

“Do other people know she did it?” Whitley asked.

“A couple. Just a few of Justine’s friends.”

“Why does she have to know you’re the one who turned her in?” Whitley asked. “You’d tell the principal, right? Don’t they have to keep that confidential or something?”

“I guess…. But why would anyone believe me? This girl has a spotless record. She’s the freshman class president. She has As in every class. Everyone likes her. They’ll think I’m making it up.”

Whitley sat there for a second, thinking. “Hmm.”

“I don’t know why I’m even telling you this,” I said. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to live the rest of my life feeling like a terrible person.”

“Oh, stop whining,” Whitley said. “I have an idea. What if Justine turned herself in?”