Blood on My Hands

CHAPTER 32

Tuesday 4:39 P.M.

I QUICKLY LOOK around. Traffic passes behind me on the bridge. There’s the heavy low grumble of a diesel engine as a garbage truck approaches. In the meantime I can hear slapping footsteps coming up the steps from the platform.
The garbage truck is passing. It has one of those big scoop-shaped bins at the rear.
I toss the cell phone into it.
A moment later, the first earpiece man reaches the bridge, breathing hard, his right hand still pressed against his ear.
He looks around, then stares right at me!
I feel myself freeze, my hands gripping the handles of the bike so hard my knuckles turn white, my heart racing.
There’s a loud screech as a police car flies around the corner and starts to speed up the bridge in our direction. At the same time, the earpiece man starts to run toward me.
Something heavy sinks inside me. Even with this bike, there’s no way I can get away from them. This is it. It’s all over. I’m caught.
*  *  *

The night after Katherine ordered me to tell Mia she couldn’t sit with us any longer, Dakota called.
“I heard what happened at lunch today,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” I didn’t know what else to do except acknowledge what she’d said and wonder why she was calling me.
“You know it’s all about power. She’s the most evil, nasty, insecure person ever. She has to constantly reassure herself that she’s in control, and the only way she can do that is by making people do things for her that they don’t want to do. You think it’s any surprise that she chose you to tell Mia not to sit with us anymore? No way. She chose you because she knew you’d have the hardest time doing it.”
I listened silently.
“And you know why you’ll do it?” Dakota asked in a condescending tone.
“No,” I said, almost befuddled by the meanness I felt emanating from her. We might have shared a common frenemy, but that clearly did not make us friends.
“Look at what she’s already gotten you to give up,” Dakota said. “You’ll do it because you have nothing left to lose.”