Somehow, I survived Sage and Marley's endless rounds of interrogations the following day. They fired question after question at me, all of which I answered as tactfully as possible.
"Did he make a move?"
"No."
"Did you even hold hands?"
"No."
"Did you snuggle in the booth?"
"No."
"Did he smell good?"
"What?" I laughed. "Oh, wait, I remember—he smelled like a fresh bakery on a spring morning."
Sage rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless, Rayne," she sighed.
"I sure am."
"You know he's never going to ask you out again."
"Correction: he never did ask me out in the first place."
"Whatever." Sage shook her head sadly. "You two would have made a great couple."
"Not."
Sage playfully shoved my shoulder, and I shoved her back. I knew she was disappointed in me, but I wasn't about to tell her that Luke and I were meeting at the Café again on Saturday. She and Marley would jump all over the news.
Speaking of Marley...
As Sage and I rounded the corner towards the pool complex, I asked her where the third member of our trio was.
"I dunno." Sage shrugged. "She was here at lunch."
"That's weird. I wonder where she is." I glanced over at Sage's wristwatch as we entered the women's locker room. "We better hurry. Swim starts in two minutes." I hurried over to my locker, but as soon as I pulled it open, I let out a sharp cry of astonishment.
"What?" Sage asked, scurrying over. "What's wr—" Her eyes grew wide when she saw what had happened. "Oh no. Rayne..."
We both stared in disbelief at the contents of my locker. I gingerly picked up my goggles, which had been cut in two, most likely by a sharp razor. My towel was frayed and cut in multiple places. My cap had even been slashed down the middle. But the worst damage was done to my racing suit. I could barely even distinguish the bright colors and markings as a veil of tears began to cloud my vision.
"That jerk," I muttered, not even bothering to wipe my eyes as I pulled my personal belongings out. I stared at them incredulously, not believing that this had actually happened. Madeleine had gone too far this time—much too far. My blood boiled with rage. "She has no right," I said fiercely, slamming my locker closed. "Who does she think she is? Why is she doing this to me?"
"You can use my extra swimsuit," Sage offered quietly.
"It wouldn't fit. I'm four inches taller than you," I muttered, cradling my head in my hands. Something had snapped inside of me at the sight of all my swim equipment destroyed. Did Madeleine Hansen have a disorder or an anger management problem? Because who else would do such a thing?
I glanced over at Sage, whose mouth was still parted in shock. "Do you have an idea?" I demanded. "Any idea as to why she would do this?"
"I don't know," Sage said softly, calmly.
I stared at my locker, fists clenched. "How are you not even angry?"
"Rayne, believe me, I'm just as upset as you are," Sage said quickly. "But if Madeleine did this out of anger, why do you think being angry is the solution?"
"I have a right to be angry."
"But—"
"Look," I said, exasperated, "I don't want to argue right now. This is between Madeleine and I." It was hard to believe that she had the audacity to break in (though it was just as likely that I had forgotten to lock my belongings, as usual). But even harder to believe was the fact that she had destroyed my belongings. Why the sudden outrage? Or had it been building up all this time?
I swallowed. I had saved up for three months last summer in order to buy my racing suit, and now it was worthless. And my favorite pair of goggles...
Anger simmered within me. Madeleine would pay—she had to pay.
"W-what are you going to do?" Sage stammered.
"Watch me," I said, heading for the exit.
"Rayne!" Sage cried anxiously. "Where are you going?"
"I'm telling Coach Hansen what happened!" I hollered over my shoulder. Several girls glanced up at me as I barreled past them.
"But he won't do anything about it! He never does! And if Madeleine finds out that you tattled on her..." Sage trailed off into silence.
I turned around. "Well, someone has to stop her from bullying, and it might as well be me." With that statement ringing through the now-silent locker room, I stormed outside and headed straight for Coach Hansen, who was pacing the pool deck with his hands on his hips.
"Coach," I said coolly, trying to bite back the anger rising within me.
"Rayne!" His eyes immediately lit up when he saw me. "How are you? Have you considered squeezing some training sessions in between your tutoring after school?"
"Actually, Coach, that's not what I want to talk to you about." My voice suddenly grew calm—eerily calm. "Are you aware that ever since I arrived at this school, your daughter has had it out for me? Are you aware that she has held a grudge against me for the past two weeks?"
Coach Hansen blinked.
I fumbled for the right words. I needed to be strong—to stand my ground. "Are you aware that Madeleine broke into my swim locker and destroyed everything inside?" I demanded.
"Rayne," he said, concerned, "this is a serious charge. Are you sure?"
His question caught me off guard. Was I sure? I hadn't seen her do it, and the locker rooms didn't have security cameras...
I suddenly felt foolish. "She's—she's—" Then I stopped again. I couldn't exactly say she's a bully without sounding like a scared little kid. But the fact only angered me even more.
"Madeleine beat up someone from the swim team," I said, switching tactics. "How'd she get away with that one?"
Coach narrowed his eyes. "She got a detention, of course. Why—"
A detention? Not an expulsion, or even a suspension?
My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, because Coach cleared his throat and said firmly, "Rayne, this is none of your business. What's done is done."
"But it is my business," I pressed. Students were trickling onto the pool deck now, watching our little argument with curious expressions. "Madeleine is...well...she's uncontrollable! She vandalized my personal belongings and destroyed something that is precious to me. She ripped up my racing suit, my goggles, and my towel—and it must have been with a razor or a pocket knife, which isn't even allowed on school property—and I know it was her because no one else has had it out for me the short time I've been here." I took a deep breath, hoping that Coach Hansen felt the full weight of my words. He had to believe me.
But he merely laughed. "Oh, Rayne..."
I bristled against his nonchalant attitude. "Never mind," I muttered. I would handle this with a different, more mature, adult—maybe another teacher, or even the school principal himself. I turned around and stomped out of the pool complex, ignoring the strange looks thrown my way. The mob of swimmers in front of the locker rooms parted to let me through, but their attention was diverted when Madeleine suddenly entered the pool deck.
We both paused. She lifted her eyebrows, watching, waiting. The sly little smile playing on the corners of her lips told me that she knew. She knew my anger and frustration, and she knew what was coming next.
"You!" I spluttered, not knowing what else to say.
"Have a problem, Rayne?" she sneered. She folded her arms and stepped closer to me.
"You know what the problem is," I said. "Now own up to it."
She tossed her head like one who has the upper hand, and knows it. "Make me."
By now the entire girls' swim team was watching. They kept an equal distance away from Madeleine and I, but I knew they were more terrified of her than of me. And that's when I realized I was playing right into Madeleine's hands. She wanted a fight, and she wanted to provoke me. I unclenched my fists, took a few deep breaths, and replaced my anger with calm authority.
"Let's settle this in the office," I said.
Madeleine saw my relaxation and heard the new tone in my voice, and her eyes darkened. "What?" she snapped.
"I said, we need to take this to the—"
But I didn't even have a chance to finish my sentence. Madeleine was on top of me in less than a second, and the two of us tumbled to the floor. I winced in pain when my head made contact with the hard linoleum tile of the locker room. Madeleine took a swing at me, but both my arms were raised over my face, protecting me from her blows. There was a lot of commotion (and a few startled screams) until I felt someone pull Madeleine away from me.
"Rayne! Are you okay?" Coach Hansen was holding his daughter back while the guidance counselor bent over me anxiously.
"Yeah," I groaned, sitting up and looking around me. My hair was tangled, and my clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. Everyone stared at me with wide eyes while Madeleine thrashed in her father's arms.
"Did you see what she did to me?" she shrieked.
I raised my eyes to meet Coach Hansen's. I held his gaze until he finally looked down at his daughter and said, "We need to talk."
"What? No, you need to talk to her!" She pointed an accusing finger at me.
Coach quickly pulled Madeleine aside, and the guidance counselor helped me to my feet. "Let's get you cleaned up in the office," she said gently, yet she had a firm tone to her voice. As we left the locker room, I heard the murmur of voices escalate behind me, and knew that Sage's was probably among them.
I was herded down the hall and into the office, where the secretary glanced up at me through her wide-rimmed glasses. "Hello, Rayne!" she chirped.
I smiled weakly. "Hi."
"How are you?"
"There was a fight," the guidance counselor deadpanned, ushering me into an empty room and motioning for me take a seat. "Do you need to see a nurse?" she asked, a little more kindly.
I shook my head, even though my head throbbed and my arms were sure to be littered with bruises.
"All right. I'll be back shortly," she replied, before closing the door and leaving me alone.
Suddenly, my phone rang. I glanced at the door, figured I was safe for a few more minutes, and then pulled the device out of my pocket. To my surprise, it was Sage.
"Rayne!" she exclaimed as soon as I answered. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. You worry too much about me," I chuckled, even though I was sure to have a few bruises from the fight.
"Good. I was so scared, I had to—" She suddenly paused.
A thought came to me. "Sage, were you the person who ran and got the guidance counselor?"
"Well...yes."
"But...why? I had it all under control."
Sage laughed. "Under control? Rayne, Madeleine was beating you up!"
"It was proof against her," I argued. "It showed her true colors to her father."
"So what?" Her pitch rose a notch. "Was this some sort of experiment for you?"
"No. I just didn't want her to get away with it like she has before!"
From outside the room, I saw the secretary turn her head in my direction, so I quickly looked away. In a much quieter voice, I added, "I didn't want Madeleine to get off the hook this time. She needs to be put in her place."
"But provoking her was the wrong way to go about it."
"I didn't try to provoke her. She—" I suddenly paused. What was the use of explaining, anyway? I heard the fear, the confused terror, in my friend's speech. "Sage, what makes you so scared of her?"
She suddenly grew silent. Static crackled through the speaker.
"Sage?" I asked quietly. "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," she mumbled.
"Well, okay..." I knew it was only fair to give her some space, but I had the feeling that her relationship with Madeleine went farther back than I'd realized.
Sage muttered something incoherent, but finally gave in to my plea. "All right," she sighed, "it started back in sixth grade."
I pressed my phone harder against my ear.
"I had just joined the local swim team, and Madeleine was already the star. She's always been the star. I guess her favorite lane was lane 1, but I didn't know that, which was my first mistake. I was a pretty decent swimmer from playing in the ocean during the summertime, so my swim instructor told me to hop into the big pool—which was where Madeleine and the rest of the 'good' swimmers were.
"I jumped into lane 1, since all the other lanes were already full, and I figured the girl in lane 1 wouldn't mind sharing hers with me. But Madeleine had claimed it all to herself, because when I hopped in next to her, she grew really upset. She splashed me with her kicks and even kneed me underwater a few times. I was too scared to complain. It just didn't make sense."
I waited patiently as my friend collected her thoughts. She let out a shaky breath. "Anyway, after swim class Madeleine pulled me aside and said she wanted to help me with my technique. I was new and all, and since she was so much bigger and stronger than me, naturally I said yes. That was my second mistake."
For the first time since she had started speaking, Sage's voice wobbled. "She punched me, Rayne. And not just once or twice, but multiple times. I lost count because my eyes grew puffy and closed over. I couldn't see for two whole days." A lone tear trickled down her cheek, and my heart immediately went out to her.
"Oh, Sage," I whispered. "I never knew..."
"She hurt me physically, Rayne, but she also scarred me for life. I just don't want the same thing to happen to you."
"Did Madeleine get in trouble?"
"No one ever found out."
"What? Not even your parents?"
"I told them it was a stray dog. They didn't believe me, of course, not for a second. But I didn't want to tell the truth because I was afraid Madeleine would make me suffer all over again."
I let out a low whistle before settling back in my seat. "What's wrong with this girl?" I asked. "Why would a sixth-grade girl beat up another sixth-grade girl? And just for swimming in her favorite lane?"
"I researched it a few years later," Sage explained. "I couldn't figure it out until I read about a disorder called ASPD—antisocial personality disorder: someone who breaks the rules and has no respect for others."
"That sounds like her, all right."
"I guess she would have to be on medication for something like that, but I'm not sure."
"Well, if she is, the meds aren't working," I muttered.
"So what are you going to do now?" Sage asked.
I blew a whoosh of air between my lips. "I have no idea," I admitted. "At least it's clear that Madeleine initiated the fight, not me. That fact alone should prove to her father that she hates me, and it also acts as evidence that she was the one who destroyed the items in my locker."
"You think?" she asked hopefully.
Just then, the door suddenly flew open, and the guidance counselor stepped in wearily. I immediately ended the call and slid my phone into my pocket. Fortunately, the counselor didn't seem to notice, as she said, "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Mr. Hansen and I were talking with Madeleine."
"So...is she suspended?" I asked hopefully.
"Yes."
I couldn't help but smile. Finally, Madeleine got what she deserved!
"For how long?" I added carefully.
"Three days."
Three days? My smile immediately vanished. "But...but she attacked me!"
"Mr. Hansen told me that you verbally attacked his daughter, and that you provoked the fight."
"No, no, that's not—"
"There were witnesses," the counselor continued firmly, "and we have decided to suspend you as well."
Angry tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
"The principal is on his way," she continued. "In the meantime, I want to warn you that your suspension will probably be for one day."
Inodded stiffly. Fantastic—this was goingto be a long and very painful afternoon.