Snitch (15 page)

I jumped on my bike and headed towards Emerson
P
ark and the old wooden bench that always waited for Liz and me. The bench was there; I was there; but Liz was nowhere.

I busied myself by watching the moms and their toddlers playing in the sandbox and three little boys chasing each other with big sticks and even bigger imaginations. Images of Johnny and me danced through my brain, and I found myself smiling without knowing it.

“What are you thinking about?” Liz asked.

“Hey,” I said
,
turning towards her voice. “You’re late—“

“Hi, Spaghetti-O,” Kate said.

“Wow! Kate!” I jumped up and gave her a hug. “I didn’t expect to see you here! You look great.”

I was lying; I said that because she looked awful. She was even paler
than usual, which I wouldn’t have thought possible, and her eyes resonated pain.
They darted around like a wounded animal that trusted no one.

Kate tried to smile as she stiffly pulled herself away from me. She made a show of putting the kickstand down her bike so she didn’t have to look at me. “I…well,
I
kind of snuck out.”

“She’s not supposed to come here,” Liz offered.

“It’s some kind of legal thing. I think it’s stupid, but Dad says I have to do what he says or I might compromise the case.”

“Compromise the what?” I asked.

Liz kicked her stand down on her bike. “They’re taking
Chrissy
to court. They’re prosecuting. I told you, this is big.”

“I hate it,” Kate said as she scuffed the ground with her shoe. “But Dad says you have to stand up for yourself as well as what is right, and so I’m going to help. I’m going to testify.”

I shook my head.
“In court?
Real court?”

“Maybe,” Kate said
,
still scuffing her foot.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and I felt like I had to say something so I blurted out, “Are you okay?”

Kate sighed and sat down on the corner of the bench.

“Sure,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Her voice was so flat I wondered if she was trying to convince me she was or trying to convince herself. No one said anything for a long time until Kate looked up, forcing herself to meet my eyes. “It’s been pretty sucky, Andy.  It’s not like I have lots of friends, and the ones I did have I’m not allowed to talk to.”

“Except for me,” Liz reminded her.

“Yeah, you.
Thank God for you.”

Kate smiled a sad smile as Liz sat down next to her and protectively put her arm around her.

“I didn’t know how bad it could be. I mean, I was never popular and that was okay with me. It’s just that I was never noticed as
anything
before. Now I’m some kind of freak that everyone hates.”

“No, you’re not,” I said sternly.

“Yeah, I am. That’s what they say on Facebook.
That and
lots more.”

Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes which, once again, were unable to meet mine.

“I just wanted to thank you for being my friend. I wanted you to know how important it is to me that you
wanted
to see me. That’s why I snuck over here to see you. My parents would kill me if they knew.”

“Kate, there are lots of people who like you,” I stammered.

“Who?” she almost shouted, her voice hoarse
with despair
.
“
Who
likes me anymore? Do you know what they
posted about me
? Do you know how many names they called me?
How many
hash
tags
were all about me?
Did you see how many people said I should just do everyone a favor and kill
—
”

Kate’s shoulders heaved up and down as she broke
into
sobs. “I didn’t do anything…I didn’t tell anyone…anything!! What’s wrong with me?”

Liz tightened her embrace on Kate. “Nothing is wrong with you,” she reasoned.

“Then why does everyone
believe
what they read
? Why are so many people
posting
so many things about me? Why do they hate me so much if there isn’t something wrong with me?
Fine.
I’m not popular. I’m not pretty. I’m not all that smart. I can’t talk to people like you do. I’m just…”

“Stop it!” Liz commanded. “That is exactly the kind of talk those bullies want! If you start to think like that, they win! We all know
Chrissy
set that page up, and we all know she is the nastiest, meanest bitch in school. We’ve all had to deal with her at least once in our lives. Even in elementary school she thought she owned the playground.”

“Why doesn’t she just leave me alone?” Kate sobbed. “I’m trying to look at this logically, I am…but it hu
rts so
bad
. It…hurts…so…bad…and
it… won’t…stop.”

We sat there for a long time, Kate’s head buried in Liz’s hair, Liz murmuring words of encouragement, me awkwardly standing next to the two of them, unable to make anything better. It was terrible.

All I could do was think about how much I hated
C
h
rissy
and every other person who posted on that
bogus
page
or tweeted something mean and hateful
. Did they mean the things they said? Did they want this to happen to Kate? Did they realize how easy it was for them to type something horrible, hit the post button
,
and then go on with their lives as if they hadn’t done something really
terrible
?

Finally, Kate stopped crying and Liz sent her to the bathroom to blow her nose.

“Throw some water on your face, too,” she told Kate. “Then we better get going before your parents come looking for you.
”

“She’s been like this for a while,” Liz said
after
Kate left
, “and you never know when it’s going to hit. One minute she seems fine, and the next she loses it. You can see why her parents are so crazy mad. They’re sending her to a counselor on Friday.”

“She has to know all of this is bullshit.”

Now it was Liz’s turn to lose it.

“She
knows
she was stood up in front of the whole school and made fun of. She
kno
ws
she has been ripped up publicly on Facebook. She
knows
that when she walks down the hallway, every eye will be on her and every snicker about her.”

Liz took a ragged breath in; I stayed absolutely quiet.

“Do you realize people are still posting stuff about this
?
It won’t die. I can’t even say it’s
Chrissy
doing it anymore. It got so big, so fast, and now, it won’t die.”

“Does Kate know?”

“I don’t think so. Her parents have taken away her phone and computer and she’s at a different school, so maybe she hasn’t heard anything.” Liz wiped away a tear. ”Promise me you won’t tell her. I don’t think she could take it.”

“I won’t tell,” I said.

“We came here to see you. We wanted things to be normal again. We wanted to get away from it all. I just don’t think
we
can.”

I sat down next to Liz, put my arm around her
,
and let her cry until we saw Kate coming back from the bathroom.

Chrissy
never did return to school, and neither did Kate. The hallway gossips found something else to obsess over, and one school day rolled into another until it was finally Saturday, divisional playoff day. Teams from all over the district descended on Allendale High School and their double gym facility. Allendale was about a half
-
hour’s drive from our school by mom-car, which made it a good hour
-
and
-
a
-
half trip by a school bus filled with an excited, testosterone-driven basketball team. Getting everybody on the bus at the same time, everything loaded and unloaded and checked in for the game was tricky. Coach spent the morning yelling, checking and double checking
.
W
e spent it secretly snickering we’d be fine as long as he didn’t have a heart attack first.

Our team bus was followed by another
carrying
the fine ladies of our school (minus one, of course) who were decked out in
the
shortest skirts our school would allow
,
brushed and
ribboned
long hair,
and makeup carefully applied—
all of
which
I must admit,
we boys appreciated. Green and white posters and pompoms lined their windows and
painted
tiger paws
adorned
their cheeks. A few of the kids from band rode with them
so there would be percussion and a few horns in the stands cheering us on. It was a good day for the Jameson Tigers.

A lot of games were scheduled for that day, but the last match
—
the big match
—
was slated for two o’clock in the afternoon. We were facing the
Nolanville
Cougars for the last time in a sudden
-
death match. In the locker room Coach had given his pregame speech.

“Everyone tells you to do your best,” he huffed, “but I’m telling you to go out there and kick some butt! I want better than best! I want this championship! And so do you
,
boys, so do you!”

Cheers exploded. High fives slapped one another in mid-air. Fists and chests bumped one another. We were pumped to win.

“Let’s go out there and take this championship!” Coach yelled.

“Dang!
Look how many people there are in the stands,” Johnny yelled over my shoulder as soon as we hit the floor.

My breath sucked in as I surveyed the crowd; there were so many people, I didn’t have a chance finding my parents or Liz.

“C’mon
,
s
top staring,” I said, giving Johnny a nudge and a smile. “Isn’t this what we came for? Let’s give these people a show.”

Even though I started and played hard, the game flew by. It was what Dad calls a “nail biter.” One minute we were ahead 34 to 26, the next we
were behind 36 to 38. The score yo-yoed back and forth
,
forcing us to buckle down and play harder and harder.

For the most part, we played like a well
-
oiled machine. Where I wasn’t, Wes was. If someone passed the ball, Seth was there to drive it home. Net balls, finger rolls
,
and unbelievable shots dominated the game
for both teams.

The buzzer blowing at halftime gave all of us a much
-
needed break.

“Get some water!” Coach yelled.
“Then
get
over here for a huddle.”

We fell on the bench and grabbed a bottle of
cold
water.

“They’re beasts,
” Johnny said leaning into me
,
his shirt drenched in sweat. “They’re good.”

“So are we,” I replied. My arm reached up to slap him on the back, but common sense pulled it back. Instead I said, “You don’t smell so good.”

Johnny looked up smiling. “How do you think I keep them away from me? I may not be as tall as they are, but
,
man, do I ever reek! It’s my secret weapon. Just keep passing me the ball.” He flapped his arms chicken-like
,
sending wafts of B.O. into my nostrils.

I shoved him.
“
Dude
,” I
complained, “s
top that. You’re killing me!”

Johnny just kept smiling.

Coach gave us a few more minutes before huddling us up. He told us we were doing great and to keep it up. He told Wes and me to tighten up the defense and reminded all of us that
Nolanville’s
game was a fast one, so we needed to slow things down and play our own game. Then the buzzer sounded and sent us to our positions on the court.

Before I knew it, we were in the last five minutes and down by four. I think we were all fighting to keep our nervous stomachs from overshadowing our hours of practice; I was too anxious to even look at Coach. Suddenly, I was open and Seth wasn’t. Ben chunked the ball into my hands and I neatly drove it in and banged it off the backboard for a theatrical two. The crowd rose to its feet and roared its approval. The clock ticked down, and
Nolanville
took possession of the ball.