Going Under

He asked if I wanted to shoot pictures with him of the women’s volleyball game this afternoon. Yes, he had decided to take Yearbook after all, and I had been waiting for this opportunity to get to know him better. Discover what made him tick. His likes and dislikes. All the information I would need to store away in my arsenal for future use when the battle really heated up. I agreed to meet him in the gym at four, and he left, giving me just enough time to get to class before the tardy bell.

I flew into a stall and all but ripped off my shorts, sinking down onto the toilet seat because I couldn’t squat. I had to use the bathroom too badly. Normally I always squatted over toilet seats, and I probably should have done so now because I’m quite sure I felt tiny droplets on the backs of my thighs.

“Gross,” I muttered. “I’m sitting in someone’s pee.”

But the relief was a little piece of heaven, and I sat in bliss on the toilet, reveling in the feel of an empty bladder, smiling stupidly as I read the obscenities written on the stall door.

Jamie H. is a dirty whore.

I wondered who Jamie H. was.

Carolyn fucked the football team.

Wow, I thought. That’s a lot of fucking.

Lucy blows guys for money.

Huh?

I leaned in and reread the sentence. They couldn’t possibly be talking about my Lucy. Yes, just like Ryan, I decided to claim her for my own. It was instant possession because I thought she was sweet and kind, and I wasn’t going to let any bitch talk shit about her. Of course, maybe it was another Lucy, but “Lucy” wasn’t a popular name. The Lucy I met didn’t seem like the kind of girl described in that sentence. Why would someone write that about her?

I thought back to the few times I saw her outside the classroom. She never walked or talked with anyone. She was always alone, looking morose at worst, empty at best. She didn’t have any friends. But why? I thought about the first day of class when I bumped my head. She addressed me then. Why did she do that? And then I realized it was because I was new. I didn’t know her. It was safe for her to talk to me. Maybe, just maybe, she was trying to make friends with me. At that moment I was filled with a kind of tenderness usually reserved exclusively for my mother and father. It was familial tenderness, but I felt it for this girl. I wanted to adopt her as my sister, protect her, make her smile.

I froze when I heard the bathroom door swing open. A shuffling of feet, a sniffle, and then a racking sob. I didn’t know what to do. Should I make my presence known by coughing or clearing my throat? It was obvious the girl thought she was alone. Who doesn’t check under stall doors to be certain of it?

The sobbing continued for a few moments before it stopped abruptly. I was sure she was still in the bathroom. I didn’t hear the door open again. I realized I could be stuck in here forever and thought it was better to just come out. She would be mortified or pissed off, but I had to take that chance.

I flushed the toilet and walked out. The girl whirled around to face me, a horrified look on her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She stared at me for a moment. I didn’t recognize her. She looked too young to be a senior, and I never saw her in Hallway D, the senior hall.

She made a move for the door, but I blocked her.

“Can I help in any way?” I asked.

She looked at me, her large green eyes swimming with fresh tears. She was so pretty and frightened. What the hell? This was the second pretty, frightened girl I’d come across in my first week of school. How many were there?

I knew it would shake her to her core, force her to relive a painful event all over again, but I had to ask. “Did something bad happen to you?”

She shoved me out of the way and exited the bathroom, but not before answering me. She nodded. It was barely perceptible, but she nodded.

I left the bathroom after washing my hands, shaken and stunned. Suddenly my eyes were everywhere taking in the scene, scoping out the timid ones hanging in the shadows, wrapped in shameful secrets. I knew they were here.

I skipped lunch and left the senior hall for another. I strolled the junior hall, looking for anything suspicious or odd. I thought I saw her, hanging around a classroom door, mustering the courage to go in. And another, standing by her locker, furtive eyes darting to and fro, looking for a predator. And another, slinking down the hallway quietly to avoid being seen. And another, disappearing into the bathroom to cry away her pain.

Oh my God. I was going crazy! I clutched the wall, taking deep breaths. I looked down the hallway. It was distorted, students stretching and twisting in a circular pattern as they passed by me. Like I had taken a hallucinogen and was having a bad reaction. I didn’t know if my feet were still planted on the ground or if I was hanging from the ceiling.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the field. But I couldn’t summon it. I breathed deeply, feeling pins in my chest that pricked me harder the more I tried to suck down oxygen. I opened my eyes to patches of darkness. I’m going blind! I screamed, but no one heard. My mouth never moved. I heard a distant, “Are you okay?” before the blackness swept me up into a silent oblivion.

***

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