“Don’t listen,” Chloe said. She leaned toward me. “Next week, it’ll be something else.”
Of course. Because here at Monroe, you could transform in a day. How quickly I had gone from girl-who-escaped-the-roof to girl-who-slashes-own-shirts-for-attention to slut.
And then I started laughing. Horrible, really. But I was laughing. Because of all the things they could say about me, equal parts horrible and true, this was so far from the mark it was funny.
We were treading water in the ocean, Colleen and I, Brian and Dylan, Joe and Sammy, and Cody Parker. We were out past the spot where the waves broke, drifting with the surfboards, all pointed toward the horizon.
Colleen was hanging on Cody’s back, trying to dunk him, but not really. They all had their surfboards, everyone but me, but nobody was trying to do any surfing. It was just an excuse for us to be out here, on the beach for the surfers and not for the swimmers, which was full of tourists.
Brian had one hand on his board and one arm wrapped around me, holding me up. I couldn’t tread water on my own with his arm around me anyway. His legs kept getting in the way. “Chill out, Mallory,” he’d said. “I’m not gonna let you drown.”
But I couldn’t stop my legs from kicking, or my free arm from making small circles in the water. So eventually he hauled me onto his surfboard, so I was less annoying, I guess. But I guess that got pretty boring pretty damn fast, because, while Joe was still in the middle of a sentence, Brian untied the back of my bathing suit.
“Jesus, Brian,” I’d said, trying to grab onto the back and tie it together again. But then Brian flipped the surfboard, and I didn’t even have time to take a breath. I swallowed salt water and broke through the surface, still choking on water, trying to stay afloat while simultaneously holding the back of my suit together.
Brian laughed and pulled me toward him. And since I needed one hand to hold my top on, I couldn’t let go of him without falling under again. I held on tightly to his neck. Brian was laughing, but he was looking at everyone else.
And Joe said, “Get a room already.”
Brian said, “You’re coming tonight, right?”
“Coming where?” I asked. And then I turned away and coughed again.
“Party at my place,” he said, like I should’ve known. But I didn’t.
And then Colleen said, “Still grounded.”
“What about you? Are you grounded too?” Brian asked, never taking his eyes off me.
I was still pressed up against him, and I could see Dylan out of the corner of my eye, watching us. So I said, “No. And my parents will be out anyway.” And then Brian kissed me on the mouth in front of everyone, and I didn’t pull away because I was still trying to figure out how to tie my bathing suit back on.
“Let’s surf,” Dylan said. He paddled past me without a glance in my direction. Brian backed away, smiling, as I struggled to stay both clothed and above water at the same time. Colleen grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward her board. She didn’t surf. Never had. But she’d had that board for years, for situations exactly like this. The rest of them paddled closer to shore, sitting on their boards. Not quite surfing yet. Pre-surfing, maybe.
Colleen turned me around and leaned down toward the water. She tied the knot, extra tight. “Asshole,” she said.
I spun around, treading water a few inches away from her. “What’s your problem with him?”
“What’s my problem? What’s his problem? You should be with someone else.”
I looked at the guys, straddling their boards, waiting for a wave. “Like who, Dylan?”
Colleen watched them as well. “No, not Dylan.” Then she dipped off her board into the water, level with me, looked directly in my eyes, and said, “Brian isn’t right for you.”
“You mean because he’s older? You think I don’t know how to act? What to do? You think you’re the only one who can get an older guy?”
“Don’t be stupid, Mallory.”
“You’re telling me not to be stupid? Seriously?”
Colleen had stared at me, like she was waiting for me to say what she knew I was going to say. I didn’t. But it didn’t matter. She knew I was thinking it. But she didn’t yell. She said, “You’re not like me.” Which did something to the inside of me, because suddenly I couldn’t stay above water. Not while I was facing her.
I started swimming away before she could see my face, but she grabbed onto my ankle as I swam. “Don’t,” she said, even though I still wasn’t looking at her. I kicked her off and swam for the surfboards. But she said it anyway. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Brian smiled as he saw me approaching. He pulled me onto his board, and we sat, facing each other, while people caught waves around us. But his smile made me nervous, the way he was kind of seeing me, but kind of not, and now Colleen’s words had settled into my head.
“Sorry,” I said. “I forgot that I promised to help Colleen with something tonight.”
Brian groaned and said, “You’re killing me, Mallory. Absolutely killing me.”
I knew how I was supposed to feel when I was with him. Well, I knew what I was not supposed to feel. I wasn’t supposed to feel anxious. Not tense either. Or maybe I was. Maybe this was normal. I didn’t know. So I let him whisper in my ear and put his hands on my hips. And I listened to him list all the ways in which I was slowly killing him.
None of which turned out to be the actual way that I killed him.
It was funny. In a very unfunny way. But I couldn’t stop laughing. “Ms. Murphy,” Mr. Durham seethed. “Do you find William Golding humorous? Does he make you laugh?”
“No, sir,” I said, trying to suppress a smile. And then I thought, Well I am hysterical, and I laughed some more.
“Please, enlighten us. What is so funny today?”
“This place,” I said, choking on my laughter. “And everyone in it.”
“You’re excused, Ms. Murphy.”
I wasn’t sure where I was being excused to, but the message was clear: get out. So I did. It was raining again. Misting, really. Like you didn’t even notice it was raining until you realized you were dripping wet.
I went back to the dorm and dialed home. Mom answered on the first ring.
“So,” I began, “there was a misunderstanding. It’s not a big deal, but there’s probably a form being sent home to you.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?” Mom slowed her voice, and I could imagine her sitting down.
“Well, I was doing some homework with a guy—Reid Carlson, actually—remember him?” Because I thought it might go over better if she did. “But I forgot to check in.”
“I don’t understand. Check in where?”
“His room. Like I said, it was a misunderstanding. It’s all straightened up now, but I lost visitation rights for two weeks. No big deal.”
“No big deal?” she said. “Mallory, honey, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to become involved with anyone right now.”
“I’m not involved, Mom. We were working.” My voice turned sharp, because I knew she didn’t want me in a boy’s room because she was worried about what I might do, not what he might do.
“Please, Mallory. Please be careful.”
I thought of the knife in my room. “Yes, Mother.” And I hung up the phone.
I remained in the lounge until next period and endured the looks and whispers for the rest of my classes without making a scene.
But after class, I had nowhere to go. Kind of ridiculous that I had been watching the second hand crawl along, mentally trying to push it around, when, really, I didn’t know what I was rushing toward. It was still kind of raining out, and I was in no hurry to return to my dorm room. Not when I’d be stuck there all night, by myself, with whatever was coming for me.