***
Hannah never returned to school. Gossip offered a multitude of scenarios—each one “the truth.” She had a nervous breakdown and was committed to Clairemont, Mountainview’s famous psych ward. She moved with her family out of state. She killed herself by slicing open her arms. No, she killed herself by hanging. No wait. She killed her family and then killed herself in a house fire.
“I hate everybody,” Regan muttered to herself, catching the tail end of a conversation between two students walking by. They were discussing Hannah.
She found herself quite alone at the end of the school day. Jeremy was home sick. Casey had to leave directly after school for work. Regan had a little bit of time before she needed to report to work. Today, she was decorating a child’s birthday cake. She breathed deeply and tried to turn around her pissy attitude. She didn’t want bad vibes seeping into the icing.
“I know I’m not supposed to talk to you,” came a male voice from behind her.
She whirled around. “Touch me and I’ll kill you.” The words tumbled out with zero restraint.
“I’m not gonna touch you,” Brandon said.
Regan clutched her bag close to her chest. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to know how you are,” Brandon said.
Regan burst out laughing. “Seriously?”
He said nothing.
“You destroy all my friendships, and you have the nerve to ask me how I am? No, wait. You spread rumors about how bad I am sexually, and you have the nerve to ask me how I am?”
Brandon stared at her, perplexed. “Huh?”
“I’m not stupid. I know those rumors came from you. And I know you told everyone in our group to ignore me—to freeze me out! Because you were sore that I dumped your sorry ass.”
“God, Regan, you’re so paranoid,” Brandon replied casually. “And hostile.”
“If I’m hostile, it’s because you made me that way,” Regan spat. “Please move. I’ve gotta go to work.”
“Look,” Brandon said, jumping in front of her. “I’m sorry about everything that’s happened. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. I mean, after seeing what happened to Hannah, I realize that things need to change.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Things around here need to change,” Brandon said.
“What things?”
“The way people are treated,” he clarified.
Her eyes bugged out of her head.
“I know I’m partly to blame—”
She opened her mouth.
“Let me finish,” he said quickly. “Please, just let me finish.”
She clamped it shut.
“I know I’m a popular guy and I have a lot of power. People look to me as an example.” He paused and scratched his buzzed head. “They expect me to lead them.”
Regan tapped her foot impatiently.
“I don’t know that I ever wanted to be in that kind of position,” Brandon said. He eyed her expectantly.
“And why’s that, Brandon?” she asked, humoring him.
“The pressure. I . . . I don’t think I’ve performed well under the pressure of it all,” he replied.
Regan waited, slightly intrigued.
“I admit it,” he went on. “I bullied people while we were dating. I tried to keep it from you as much as possible.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like the more people shoved me into this leader role, the more I came undone. I never wanted to be that guy. I think I was mad about it, so I just took it out on losers.”
“I don’t like that word,” Regan said.
Brandon sighed.
“I don’t know that I’m buying any of this,” Regan said, “but I’ll tell you this: You had potential. You could have been a great leader for this school. I’ve witnessed your kindness. I’ve seen your humility. I remember you when you were so very near the turning point. When you almost went to the good side. And I don’t know what stopped you other than a really evil heart. It made you try to change me. It made you go after people all over again—people who did nothing to you. It inflated your ego and encouraged you to strike me—”
“Regan, that was an accident,” Brandon interrupted.
“I just can’t believe you, Brandon,” Regan said. “I won’t ever believe that was an accident.”
He looked at her helplessly.
“You could have been someone really awesome,” Regan went on. “But whatever hatred was inside of you ruined everything.”
Brandon scowled. “So what? Now you’re teaching me a lesson by dating that guy?”
“Dating Jer has nothing to do with you,” Regan replied calmly.
“He’s messed up, too, Regan. All you did was go from one messed-up guy to the next.” The words should have sounded malicious, but it almost seemed like Brandon was trying to warn her.
She drew in her breath. “We’re all messed up to a certain extent.”
“Oh, you’re so wise,” he said flippantly.
“Will you let me finish?”
He shrugged.
“We’re all messed up, but I know the difference between a good guy and a bad guy.”
Silence.
“I’m so bad, huh?” Brandon asked. “How about this? I’m the guy who’s submitting an anti-bullying policy to the student government next week.”
Again, big bug eyes. Brandon was encouraged.
“Yeah, that’s right. You think I’m such an asshole. Well, assholes can have coming-to-Jesus moments, too, you know.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for you?”
He reared back, shocked.
“Don’t do that. I don’t buy it,” Regan said. “Tell me right now. What’s in it for you?”
He dropped the false pretense and sneered, leaning in close to whisper in her ear.
“I get to be the hero.”
***
Ping!