Jumping Off Swings

  Liz knows my secret. She knows about my situation.

  I feel people near me. Watching me. Watching my hands hold this note. Trying to read it over my shoulder. Watching my tears mark wobbly lines down my cheeks, like tiny brooks that drip off my jaw and onto the paper, turning the blue words into water.

  Check it out.

  Is she OK?

  Can you see what it says?

  What’s wrong with her?

  They lean into me to see the blurry words, as if I’m not sitting here. Maybe I’m not. Maybe this isn’t happening. Maybe I’m asleep, and I’m going to wake up any minute. And my mother is going to have breakfast waiting. And we’ll eat whole-wheat pancakes with Vermont maple syrup. And Luke won’t be stoned. And we’ll all just sit and talk about how good those pancakes are. About which schools Luke will get into and which ones I’ll apply to next year. About how bright our futures are.

  Someone leans closer. Chocolate doughnut breath in my face. I should hide the note. But I don’t move. I don’t move. I don’t.

  I just stare at the wet blue words running off the paper.

  “I THINK JOSH LIKES YOU. I saw him checking you out when you walked by him at lunch,” Kayla says to Jessie.

  “Oh, my God, really? Josh is so hot.”

  I can’t stand having my locker next to the two of them. They’re obsessed with who’s into them. They’re always at the same parties Ellie and I go to — I mean, used to go to — whispering behind their hands every time someone walks by them. As far as I can tell, no one is into them. Without thinking, I make a hmph noise to indicate Josh is so totally not hot.

  “What’s your problem?” Jessie asks.

  Josh is a loser?

  “Nothing,” I say, slamming my locker.

  “Jealous,” Kayla says.

  Yeah. That’s it.

  They laugh and turn away from me. I spot Caleb heading down the hall, so I rush to catch up.

  “Can we come over tonight?” I ask.

  “Sure.” He smiles. I wonder if it’s at the thought of me coming over or Ellie.

  “She seems better, don’t you think?” he asks before we get to homeroom. Guess that answers my question.

  “Yeah, definitely. But”— we stop outside the door —“something has to happen soon. I’m afraid it’ll be too late if she waits much longer.”

  “When does she have to — you know, do it by?”

  “I’m not sure. Within three months or something like that?”

  He frowns and peeks through the window in the door. He’s looking for her. I wish I didn’t feel jealous. She’s my best friend, and she’s a mess. The last thing I should care about is whether Caleb still has a thing for her.

  What I should be doing is pushing her to take care of things. Soon.

  Caleb opens the door, and we walk in. Ellie is already in her seat, reading something. She’s hunched over. Her hair hangs down in front of her face.

  “Hey, El, whatcha got?” I ask, trying to be friendly.

  She doesn’t look up.

  “What is it, a death threat?” I joke.

  I lean down so I can see her face. It’s blotchy and wet. I peek at the letter. The words are all smudged and blurry from her tears. I gently pull the paper out of her hands and read it.

  “What’s going on?” Caleb asks innocently. I look into that cherub face and want to slap him. I shove the letter at him instead.

  His mouth drops open as he reads. “But I didn’t —” he starts.

  My glare cuts him off.

  Ellie looks up at me. Her eyes are glassy, questioning.

  “Ellie —” I start. But I don’t know what to say.

  More people come into the room. I reach into my purse and luckily find some tissues. I hand one to Ellie, but she doesn’t move. I try to wipe her face off, but it doesn’t help because tears are still seeping out the corners of her eyes.

  “She must have put it in my backpack last night,” Ellie says quietly, looking down at her hands. “But . . . how does she know?”

  “Come on,” I say. I shake my head at Caleb.

  “Corinne, I didn’t —” he starts again.

  I take Ellie’s hand, and we leave him standing there holding the letter. Mr. Howard doesn’t try to stop us.

  I lead Ellie to the bathroom so I can help her wash her face. The room’s empty because the homeroom bell already rang. I look for feet in the stalls just in case. When I’m sure we’re alone, I lead Ellie over to the sinks.

  “Are you OK?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

  She nods and dabs the now-soggy tissue at her eyes.

  “Ellie, I think you should go to the nurse and get her to send you home.”

  She sniffs and shakes her head. “What would I tell her?”

  “You could tell her the truth, El. I’ll go with you. We can talk to her together.”

  She leans against the brick wall next to the sinks and lets her head thud back on it. Her eyes are red and puffy. She closes them, but tears still sneak out.

  I stand next to her so our arms are touching. I reach with my hand until I feel hers and squeeze.

  “Ellie, you’ve got to talk to someone. There must be somebody we can go to. Maybe the school counselor.”

  I squeeze her hand again, looking for even a little sign that there’s some life left. But she doesn’t squeeze back.

  I let go and feel her slip away.

  “Please talk to me, El. We’ve got to do something about this soon. Before it’s too late.”

  She moves forward a little so I can’t see her face.

  “Liz,” she says quietly.

  “Liz. Yeah! Of course! We’ll go to her tonight. OK?”

  Ellie touches her stomach. “How did she know? How could she?” She looks down at her stomach.

  “No, Ellie, you can’t tell.” I take a deep breath. “It’s my fault.”

  She looks at me, confused.

  “I — I told Caleb. I’m really sorry, El. But I’ve been so worried about you, and I didn’t know what else to do. I thought he could help. That he would want to help. I swear, Ellie. I only told him because — well, you know, El — the guy’s been in love with you forever. And I don’t mean the gaga love but the caring kind. He’s worried about you, just like I am. And he does want to help, El. I never thought he’d tell Liz. I swear I wouldn’t have told him if I thought he wouldn’t keep it a secret. I guess he told her because he cares so much about you.”

  I didn’t expect it to hurt so much to tell her that, but it does. My chest gets heavy, and my throat tightens the way it does when I try not to cry.

  I step closer to her. At first I think she’s going to turn and run, but she doesn’t move.

  “That explains a lot,” she says. She doesn’t seem angry. She doesn’t seem anything.

  “So, you’re not mad?”

  “No.”

  “And we’ll go to Liz? Tonight?”

  She nods.

  Thank God. I give her a little hug. She doesn’t hug back, but she doesn’t pull away, either.

  “Here, let’s fix you.” I empty my makeup onto the counter and tell her to face me. Then I open up my concealer and dot her face, then rub it in the way my sister taught me to. Gently, slowly. She closes her eyes and lets me do my work.

  When I rub some blush on her cheeks, she opens her eyes, but she doesn’t look at herself in the mirror.

  “You look fabulous,” I say. I reach for her hand again. It’s cold in mine, but this time she squeezes back.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” I tell her. I let go of her hand and put both of mine on her shoulders. I shake her a little, just gently.

  “I promise,” I say. “Remember the angels?”

  “Yeah,” she says.

  We start to walk out, but as we pass one of the stalls, we hear a giggle and freeze. Someone is in there. I look through the crack in the door and see them. Kayla and Jessie. They’re perched on either side of the toilet seat and leaning on
the stall walls. Kayla has a sports bottle in her hand and she’s sucking it fast.

  “Can we help you?” Jessie asks in her annoying, throaty voice that sounds like she’s been smoking since she was two.

  I jump back. Ellie’s frozen against the wall.

  Kayla laughs.

  Without thinking, I kick the stall door. It swings open and bumps into one of them.

  “Shit! You bitch, you made me spill!” Kayla yells. There’s some red liquid on her white shirt. I’m sure it’s Kool-Aid and vodka.

  “I wish I’d made you fall in!” I say back, though not having the closed door between us is making me a lot less brave than I sound.

  Jessie jumps down from the toilet as if she’s about to pounce on us. I grab Ellie by the hand and pull her out of the room fast. We rush down the empty hall back to homeroom. Their footsteps thud behind us. Luckily they’re going to have to ditch their drinks before a teacher sees them, so we’re safe for now.

  “Don’t worry about them,” I say before we go back in.

  As I start to open the door, Ellie puts her hand on my arm.

  “Thanks,” she whispers.

  We look at each other for just a second, but it’s long enough for me to see that her eyes really are different. I didn’t notice when I was putting on her makeup, but I see now. Or maybe it’s what I don’t see. Something that used to be there is gone.

  Ellie follows me inside. Everyone watches us suspiciously as we walk to our seats. Even Mr. Howard glances up from his newspaper and clears his throat. I’m sure they’re all dying to know what’s going on. And of course it’s only a matter of time before Kayla and Jessie tell them.

  I PEEL OFF MY SWEATY T-SHIRT and throw it into my gym bag. The sooner I can get out of here the better. I’m about to take off when Kyle comes up behind us and shoves Caleb’s shoulder.

  “Hey, Special Cay, you stud.”

  It’s nice to hear him giving someone else crap for a change. But Caleb? A stud?

  Dave walks out of the shower naked, wiping his poor, zit-covered face with his towel. “What’s he talking about?”

  Caleb looks as confused as I do. “Wish I knew. Sounds good,” he says.

  “Kayla and Jessie overheard some interesting news in the girls’ bathroom today,” Kyle says. He makes this sly face, like he’s got some huge secret. Jesus, he’s such a dick. Sometimes I don’t know what I want to do more: laugh at him or kick his ass.

  “They were talking about me?” Caleb asks.

  “About you and someone else,” Kyle says.

  “Damn, Cay, you keeping something from us?” I ask.

  “Not that I know of, but I’m dying to hear what I did.” He sounds nervous.

  Dave, the sex-crazed lunatic, runs over to Caleb. Even though he’s still naked, he starts giving Caleb this noogie like he’s gonna rub the guy’s hair right off and make a premature bald spot.

  “Cut the shit!” Caleb yells.

  “Whoa!” Dave backs off and puts a towel around himself.

  Kyle laughs. “Touchy much?”

  “Just tell me what you’re talking about,” Caleb says. He looks like he’s about to beat the crap out of Kyle.

  “OK, OK. God. I heard about you and Ellie, all right? I didn’t know you were so sensitive, dude. But damn, you should’ve asked us for some advice on keeping your soldiers behind enemy lines before you went all the way.”

  Caleb is totally pale.

  “Wait,” I say, starting to register what Kyle just said. “You were with Ellie?”

  Kyle nods. “All the way, man.” He turns to Caleb. “I mean, Daddy.”

  “Whoa!” Dave steps back like Caleb has some contagious disease.

  “Shut up, Kyle. I mean it.” Caleb steps closer to him, as if he’s about to pummel Kyle even though Kyle could flatten him in two seconds. I should step in, but I don’t move. I’m hot all over. My whole body is sweating. Daddy? Ellie’s pregnant?

  “Aw, I think he’s in love.” Kyle laughs in Caleb’s face.

  “I said, shut up.” Caleb curls his hands into fists.

  Kyle laughs, like he knows Caleb would never try it. But as Kyle turns to say something to me, a flash of fist connects with his jaw and his head spins the other way.

  “Shit!” he screams.

  Caleb stands there. Frozen.

  Kyle looks at him for a half second before he throws one back at him. Caleb doesn’t even have time to duck. Kyle’s fist connects to his mouth and knocks Caleb back so he crashes into Dave. He looks like one of those blow-up clowns you punch and make fall over, only they bounce up again for more, which is exactly what happens, and this time Kyle gets him in the gut.

  “What the —?” Dave tries to get between Caleb and Kyle. It all happens in, like, three seconds and I don’t even think. I shove myself in front of Kyle so Dave can drag Caleb out of range.

  “You little fucker! You really are stupid,” Kyle hisses at him. He spits a mouthful of blood on the floor.

  Caleb looks at all of us, bright red blood already oozing out of the side of his mouth, then he grabs his bag and leaves.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I run out into the cold after him. “Cay! Wait up!”

  “Not here,” Caleb yells into the air without turning around.

  “Hey!” I catch up with him and grab his shoulder, flinging him around to face me. He gives me this look. Not the crazed, mad look he gave Kyle and that I expected, but a look of pity. Like I am the most pitiful bastard in the world.

  “What’s going on?” I yell. But I think I know. I think I knew as soon as Kyle started talking, but I just didn’t want to believe it.

  He shakes his head.

  “Say it.”

  He waits, like they are the hardest words to say and he has to use all his strength to get them out.

  “It’s you.”

  My stomach tightens. I have to swallow hard to keep from puking.

  The wind whips at our faces as we stare at each other. His mouth is already swelling up. It must hurt like hell, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He turns away from me and starts walking.

  When we get to his beat-up Corolla, we both climb in and head for his house. We don’t crank the heat or turn on the radio. We don’t say a word. I look out the passenger window and watch the outskirts of our pathetic town pass by me. My dad’s stupid body shop, the diner, the run-down gas station, some abandoned buildings. It’s all so ugly. Even covered with snow, it’s ugly.

  I think I’m gonna be sick.

  I bend forward and put my face in my hands, pushing my forehead against the dashboard.

  This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

  I keep saying it to myself until the words run together and don’t make any sense. It makes me dizzy, and I lift my head and watch the still-ugly town go by.

  “Shit!” I yell, breaking up the cold quiet of the car.

  Caleb doesn’t flinch.

  “Fuck!” I smash my fist down on the armrest. The thing jiggles like it’s about to break. I pound it again, and one side slides down.

  Caleb turns the car onto the road that leads to our neighborhood — past the park and to his house. When he pulls into the driveway, he cuts the motor and leans back into his seat.

  “What do you know?” I ask. My breath floats out in front of me and fogs up the window.

  “Not much. Corinne told me.”

  “How does she know it’s mine?”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t be an asshole now, Josh. Not on top of everything else.”

  “What the hell? It’s not like I’m the only one she did it with.”

  “Yeah well, you’re the only one who couldn’t keep your condom on, OK? You’re the last guy she was with.”

  He looks out his window, turning his face from me. Like I’m so disgusting he can’t even look at me. There’s blood down the front of his T-shirt, and he’s shivering without his coat.

  “OK,” I say.
“Sorry. But in case you didn’t notice, this is serious shit. I just want to be sure this is really my problem.”

  “It is,” he says quietly. Like he doesn’t want it to be true, either.

  “What’s she gonna do?” I ask.

  “Get rid of it. What else?”

  His words hang there, fogging up his side of the car.

  Get rid of it.

  I close my eyes and try to breathe. I rock back and forth, like my body’s nodding, Yes, it’s true. But I’m shaking my head at the same time. I feel her soft, warm body under mine, her quiet breath in my ear as I pushed inside her. She made a noise, and I hoped it meant she wanted me to be doing what I was doing, but, oh God, I didn’t care — she felt so good, and then I was moving so fast and then it was over in two seconds and I know the condom fell off but I thought it happened when I was pulling out, so it was OK. But oh, God. Oh, God. I was so stupid! She didn’t say anything about it. She just looked at me. And I . . . I looked away. I just left her there.

  You’re the last guy she was with.

  “Shit!” I slam my fist on the armrest again, but it’s already broken, and a screw hanging out of the door slices the side of my hand. I stare at it, waiting for the sting and the blood to surface.

  Caleb groans, when it should be me.

  I pull my sleeve down over my hand and hold it in a fist.

  “Is she OK?” I finally ask.

  Caleb doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

  “Never mind,” I say. “Just tell me what I should do. How much will it cost?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He moves a little and glances over at me. The blood around his mouth has gelled up. It looks like that face paint stuff we used to wear at Halloween when we were kids. I can feel my own blood soaking my shirt.

  “The thing is, she doesn’t know you know. And according to Corinne, I don’t think she wants you to.”

  “Oh.”

  I know this is the part when I should start feeling relieved. She doesn’t want to involve me. It’s not my problem. So why does my chest feel like someone just punched me with an iron fist?

  “What else do you know?” I ask. “When is she going to — I mean —” I don’t know why I can’t say the words.

  “I’m not sure. Corinne doesn’t tell me that much.”