“I just love being the source of the joke,” I said, jabbing a thumb towards the back of the room.
The girl turned around in the direction of the laughter, her smile fading instantly, and I watched as her face filled with something unsettling. I wasn’t absolutely sure, but I thought it was fear. She whipped her head back around.
“Don’t worry about them,” she said quietly, fidgeting with her pen.
“I’m not,” I replied, a little offended that she assumed I’d cared so much what those students thought about me.
I turned around to look at them. I’ve no idea when Cal walked into the room, but I felt my face go instantly hot. He grinned at me and waved. I placed my hand back over my forehead and shrugged, rolling my eyes. He shrugged back, the friendly gesture unnerving me. I didn’t want him to be so damn nice, but wasn’t that the way of predators? If they came across intimidating or frightening, they’d never have the opportunity to attack.
I turned back around. My forehead still throbbed. “I’m Brooke, by the way,” I said, addressing the girl.
“Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Lucy smiled but said nothing. She was a pretty, petite blonde with large hazel eyes. She reminded me of a bird—small bones, fragile body. I thought she could stand to eat more, but then maybe she ate like a horse and never packed on weight. I watched her open her notebook when she heard the classroom door open. The teacher entered, and I tried to pay attention, though it was hard with Funeral Guy to my right and Cal to my back. The idea of Cal sitting behind me, watching me when I was powerless to move, really pissed me off. I’m sure he enjoyed it. I’m sure he would enjoy all fifty-one minutes of it, and I closed my eyes again, trying to conjure the field.
***
I had to be at work in an hour, giving me just enough time to do a little investigating.
Lucy.
Something didn’t sit right with me about her, not because she seemed like a bad person, but because she seemed genuinely frightened of Cal and his cronies in class this morning. I wanted to know who she was. A tiny part of me suspected the worst, but I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. I wanted my intuition to be wrong as I tore open Beth’s freshman yearbook which her mother had given me.
I found Lucy on the third page—Homecoming—and she was the freshmen princess. I studied her. She was posed in a wave, acknowledging the cheers erupting from the stadium bleachers. She looked happy grasping her escort’s arm. I flipped through several more pages before I spotted her on the varsity cheerleading spread. There she was, smiling brightly, suspended in the air in a cheerleading move called the Liberty. I knew the move because I used to be tossed in the air to do the same thing. Her form was perfect, and I felt a tiny bit of jealousy. It was stupid, but it was there all the same.
I continued scanning, finding her on a host of other pages: yearbook club, chorus, volleyball. I froze when I landed on the prom page. Lucy was there, dancing with Cal, his arms wrapped tightly around her small waist, holding her protectively. No, possessively. My mind started racing. Was Cal her date? Did he take her home? Did he rape her before he took her home?
I tore open Beth’s sophomore yearbook. I scanned all the sports and social activities pages, but found no pictures of Lucy. She was featured only on the sophomore class spread. I stared at her picture, but I didn’t see anything in her eyes or the way she smiled that evoked the happy, social freshman. There was something empty about that smile, like she didn’t believe it and didn’t expect anyone else to.
I flipped through Beth’s junior yearbook. No Lucy. Anywhere. Even her picture on the junior class spread was missing, a “No Photo Available” in place of it.
My heart clenched, and I wondered how I could ache for a person I didn’t know. I suspected other victims, but I didn’t want to discover them. It would complicate my plan. I wanted justice for Beth. I was responsible for her. I was willing to sacrifice myself for her, but I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else. And I didn’t want the knowledge of any other rapes to grow Cal into a horrific monster that frightened me. I couldn’t do anything to him if I was scared of him.
I tossed the yearbook aside and checked my watch. It was time to go, and I was grateful for the distraction, grabbing my apron that was slung over the desk chair and hurrying out of the house.
***
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I approached Gretchen.
“What do people normally do in restaurants?” she replied.
I smirked and grabbed the pen from behind my ear.
“I told you I would call you when I got home,” I said, flipping to a clean sheet on my order pad.
“Yeah, but I couldn’t wait that long,” Gretchen confessed.
“I’m busy tonight, Gretchen. I can’t hang around and chat,” I said. I glanced at my other tables. No refills needed. No one looking to get my attention. Good so far.