Twenty-Two
I listen to my quiet footsteps as I walk down the dock. The sun has barely peaked over the horizon, making me probably the only one up at this early time. I run my fingers over my cast-free arm and smile.
It’s been only a day and I’m probably pushing my luck, but believe it or not, I’ve missed the feel of the cool water, especially in this heat wave. All summer it hasn’t decided to break and as it’s coming to a close, I wonder if we’re ever going to get rain.
Peeling off my oversized sweater, I’m left in my bathing suit. I wonder if Ms. Johnston will get the news that I’m now allowed in the water, however I hope not. I’m planning on skipping her morning swim class like I have most of the summer.
I take a few steps back before running and launching myself off the dock. For a moment, I’m suspended in the air. I put my hands out in front of me and dive, feeling the cool water rush over me. I stay under water as long as I can, happy to have this moment alone. However when I finally surface, I’m no longer by myself. There’s a figure sitting on the dock, his ankles in the water as he watches me.
“I was wondering when you were going to come,” I smirk, pushing my hair over my head so it’s out of my eyes. “I guess you’re not here to swim?”
Rhyson still hasn’t brought up the conversation I heard while spying on him and now seems like a good time to have it, whether I want to or not.
“Actually, I am.” I raise my eyebrows as he climbs to his feet. “That is, if it’s alright with you.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, leaning onto my back. I float along the top, staring at the sky. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as he pulls off his t-shirt, revealing the familiar scar that I still don’t have an explanation for.
I hear Rhyson splash into the water and within moments, he surfaces next to me. He pushes his bangs out of his eyes and smiles.
“So is this where we have the unwanted conversation about what I heard?”
Rhyson shakes his head as moves around until he’s on the other side of me. He stops treading water for a moment, feeling for the bottom. Then when he finds it, he stands normally.
“Why not?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.
“Because neither of us is going to be happy with how it will go. I’m not explaining what I was talking about and you’re not going to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to follow me.”
“Okay,” I nod, stretching out the word to fill the silence. “Then maybe we can have a different conversation?”
Rhyson smiles. “What did you have in mind?”
Before I can answer, Rhyson slides his hands underneath me until I’m not only floating, but being held up by him. His facial expression shows nothing about the gesture and since I’m sure I look pretty shocked, I turn to face the sky again.
“If I ask you something, will you give me an honest answer?”
He’s silent for a moment before shrugging. “What kind of question?”
“One about your past.” His hands tense underneath me, as if they want to ball into fists. “I’ll answer a question about mine,” I say quickly.
“Shoot.”
I close my eyes, the rising sun starting to get too bright. “How did you get the scar on your back?”
If I thought Rhyson was tense before, he’s even worse now. He’s silent for a long time. I take the moment to peek out of my closed eye, only to see him staring out at the sky, his jaw tight.
“Back before I came here, my home situation wasn’t exactly what you would call good,” he says quietly. “My mother left a long time ago, when I was only seven. She was sick of how my father treated her and one day when we came home, she was gone.”
Slowly, I move off Rhyson’s hands until I’m standing in front of him, the water just touching my chest. I pull my hair until it’s all over my right shoulder and then take his hands in mine. He’s still staring off into the distance, remembering.
“After she left, things got worse,” he continues. “He blamed my younger brother and I for her leaving because he couldn’t face the fact that it was his fault. My dad has always had a bad temper but it was worse when he was drinking. He would abuse my brother and I, if we screwed up, we were punished. If we mentioned our mother, we were punished. But one night, when my dad tried to beat up my brother for getting upset that our mom left us, I stepped in.”
I squeeze his hands tightly as his eyes start to get glossy.
“I finally lost it. I told him it was his fault, not ours. I told him everything that he knew but couldn’t face. I thought it would make things better, but I was far off. He had been drinking more than usual that night, so when he grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, I knew that this time he wasn’t just going to give me empty threats. So this time I ran. I made my brother lock himself in his room and by the time I was halfway up the stairs to mine, my dad was right behind me with the knife.”
Rhyson’s face is completely horrified by now. Inside my chest, I feel my own heart breaking, as if this had happened to me. Blinking back tears, I let go of his hands and wrap my arms around his neck. He doesn’t return the hug.
“He tripped up the stairs behind me, Gemma. That’s how he cut me and then he fell down them. By the time I realized that he wasn’t okay, he was dead.”
“Rhyson,” I whisper, the tone of my voice as quiet as his was. “I’m so sorry.” I run my fingers through my hair, trying to comfort him. “It’s not your fault. No matter what everyone says, it’s not your fault.”
“It is, Gemma!” His whole body is trembling in my arms. “If I hadn’t said anything, if I had just kept my mouth shut, he would be alive!”
I pull back, keeping my hands on his shoulders as I meet his red eyes. “Maybe he would be alive. But Rhyson, would you?”
~~~
“If you’re done your art projects, you can hand them in. You have until the end of the week if you want them back before you go,” Doreen calls to the class, her expression looking more bored than ever. However hardly anyone is listening, instead people are buzzing over the fact that Rachel left this morning in handcuffs.
“I guess Haven can’t even help her,” Ember mutters to a girl sitting at the table in front of us. She’s been making it a huge thing to keep her painting hidden from me, insisting that I can’t see it until it’s completely finished.
After I’ve handed my comic book to an impressed Doreen, I sit back at my table, leaning my cheek on my hand.
“Is it done yet?” I ask Ember, who’s been grinning like crazy all day.
“Yes but you’ll have to wait until the end of class when everyone’s gone. I only want you to see.”
For whatever reason, she refuses to look at me. In fact, she’s actually keeping her head low, hiding her face from everyone. I watch her curiously out of the corner of my eye for the rest of the class, wondering what’s going on with her.
“You got your cast off.”
I look up to see Danny, who’s smiling at me. He leans on the desk, running his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, thank God,” I laugh, running my fingers over my arm for the millionth time since the pink cover was removed.
Danny leans closer to me, his smile wavering. “I’m busy tomorrow with Michelle, but how about the next day we head to the island?”
“Sure,” I smile as he leans away, looking around the classroom nervously.
When he’s gone, I’m lost in thoughts, wondering what he’s going to tell me. It isn’t until Ember taps me on my shoulder that I finally sit up and come back into reality.
“Class is almost over, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you,” she says, keeping her eyes downcast. “So I found out why Rachel left today in the back of a police car.”
Her voice is low so I lean closer, trying to listen without making it obvious that we’re talking about something important.
“She was the one who attacked Scarlett.”
My mouth falls open. “She did it?”
“I know, right? We should have seen this coming!”
Even though I’m happy we know who hurt Scar, I’m completely in shock. Is Rachel the one leaving the notes for me? The one who wrote on my cast, and put things under my bed? As farfetched as I think it is, it’s a possibility.
“Is she the one who wrote all over the cabin?”
Scarlett shakes her head. “Michelle looked at her writing compared to the one on the walls and it doesn’t match. Besides, Rachel denied it and she’s not one to deny things she didn’t do if people already know.”
I sink back in my chair, slightly disappointed that I still have to go ask Scarlett what happened.
When class is done, I’m still sulking. I don’t even notice when everyone is gone and it’s only Ember and I left in the room. Looking up, I watch as she puts her painting that’s covered by a towel on an easel.
Running my thumb over the scar from the accident, I watch her curiously as she moves to the side and gestures at the covered painting like it’s a brand new car. Finally, she lifts her head up and makes eye contact with me. My heart starts to pound nervously in my chest.
Even from the short distance I can see how big her pupils are. They cover most of her eyes and the rest is all a dry red. She’s grinning, but it’s different than the one I’m used to. It reminds me of how she looked the night she chased me.
I don’t know where she’s hiding these drugs but I do know she got them when she went home. Ever since she came back, Ember’s been constantly high and even when she wasn’t, there’s something different about her; something off.
“Ember, are you doing drugs-“
“Shh!” She says, a little bit too loudly. “You’re going to ruin the surprise!”
My heart pounds quicker in my chest as her fingers grasp the towel. I feel like everything is in slow motion as she pulls off the cover, revealing the painting she’s been so desperately hiding.
“Do you like it?” Her voice sounds sincere but I can’t even try to respond.
I’m completely speechless.
If it had been any other painting, I would have been impressed. But in this case, I’m horrified.
The painting is of me in excruciating detail. I’m lying on the pavement, only my upper body and head showing. Blood surrounds me and I’m absolutely covered in it. My pink hair is tangled in the pool of red, and the blonde is splattered with it. But it gets worse. There’s a part of my jaw missing and not like in the cartoons where it’s drawn without much detail. It looks like I belong in a horror movie. However, that’s not even the worst part. What frightens me the most, are my cold, dead eyes, staring at me. It’s as if they’re mocking me, saying that it should have been me and not Mellissa.
“You’re not saying anything,” Ember says, bringing me out of shock.
Finally, I look at her. She’s pouting, looking disappointed. Ember’s someone who’s been my best friend this whole summer, and who has been there for me. But now she’s the exact opposite.
I scream.
It’s not a small , brief scream either, but instead, the ear-splitting kind like when someone gets stabbed in a movie. The kind where you want to cover your ears.
Ember doesn’t.
Instead, she grins.
I don’t think as I make my next move. But the one thing I do know, that briefly runs through my mind as I do it, is that I will not regret it.
I attack Ember.