Anywhere But Here (21 page)

A touch of color hit his cheeks.  “Maybe a little.  I still owe you a date, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” I said as I reluctantly disengaged myself from his arms and opened my locker.  “I’m counting on it this weekend.”

“You got it,” he said as he waited until I’d loaded my arms with books before capturing my hand with his and leading me down the hallway.  “I’ll think of something really nice.”

The ugly mood that had plagued me since Saturday morning dissipated in Fin’s presence and I couldn’t help but giggle like the girl I used to be before my family fell apart.  He chatted animatedly about his game, filling me in on the details, as we made our rounds through the halls, enjoying each other’s company until the warning bell rang.  So grateful was I to be in his
presence that I didn’t notice any whispers or pointed looks.

When it came time to part ways
, I pecked his cheek before entering my classroom with a silly grin on my face.  I took my seat and waited for class to start, oblivious to the flutter of activity and the hushed conversations around me.

It was in my Government class
immediately before lunch that my bubble finally popped.  Mondays were usually reserved to discuss current events and Miss Ramirez, our pretty Government teacher, was readying the video machine for our weekly dose of havoc and mayhem.

Comfortably ensconced
in the corner, I rested my chin on my folded arms atop my textbook.  I wasn’t much of a television watcher so I usually only managed to catch up with what was going on in the world on Current Event day.  I listened as the edited newsreel talked about war, the economy, and White House news, scribbling a few notes here and there. It was toward the end of the reel that I froze.

“Hotel magnate Preston Frieze secluded his family on his Montana ranch this weekend as the remains of his daughter, Robin Kathleen Frieze – who ha
d been missing since early June - was discovered in a wooded preserve fifteen miles south of Chicago Friday morning.”

My mouth opened as I stared at the photo of the little girl, her blonde pigtails twisted into ringlets and her freckly face smiling widely for the cam
era.  Of course the little girl had had a name and a family that would mourn her – I had even defended that family to my own mother – but I wasn’t expecting this.  I wasn’t expecting to see a face and hear a name.  My heart faltered as the story continued, confirming that preliminary reports showed her death was a homicide but no suspects had been named.

Darkness covered my heart as my hands started to tremble. Would it be like this when and if Camille was found?  Would her adorable face be plastered all over the TV so people could shake their heads at the senseless tragedy?  Would people think fleetingly of my family – send up a little prayer, maybe – then forget about us as the demands of everyday life pushed us out of their minds?

I vaguely recalled the news reports on the missing girl the summer Camille disappeared but had never really put much thought into it.  I’d been too preoccupied with my own life to care much for some rich family’s misery.

I wondered if the Frieze family was holding up together, supporting and comforting each other in this dreary and heart wrenching period of their lives. Had they remained together the entire time Robin ha
d been missing?  Or had they dealt with it separately, maybe even attacking each other in grief?

I sighed, shaking
the tears that had threatened to fall. Miss Ramirez shut off the video and restored light to the classroom.  She pushed the television away and perched on her desk, ready to start a discussion on what we’d just viewed.

A few boys who sat in the middle began a
debate about the economy while the more boisterous girls rolled their eyes and slumped in their seats.  My mind just couldn’t focus on their words as it was still wrapped up in the Frieze story.  I begged the clock to hurry and the bell to ring.

“Yes, Mariah?” Miss Ramirez said as she nodded at the girl in front of me.

“I can’t believe that Preston Frieze’s daughter was murdered!  How awful!” Mariah exclaimed.  My back stiffened.

“Yes, it is terrible,” Miss Ramirez said.  “Unfortunately, that sort of thing happens often in our society.”

“Well, people who murder children should be put to death!” another girl declared.

“Does anyone disagree?” Miss Ramirez challenged.

The class roared to life with their opinions, the noise level rising rapidly.  Only I remained silent as I doodled in the margin of my notes, glancing occasionally at the clock.

“You’re awfully quiet, Rena,” Miss Ramirez said gently.  “What do you think?”

I started, blinking furiously as my mind scrambled to get up to speed.  I wet my lips and shrugged a shoulder.  “Um, I think people who murder children should be punished.”

Miss Ram
irez’s brow furrowed as two boys close to me howled in agreement.   She held up a hand to quiet the class as she concentrated her gaze on me.  “Do you think they should be punished by death?”

Perspiration beads gathered on the back of my neck under my hair an
d I shifted uneasily, crumbling under her look.  “Sure.”

Miss Ramirez cocked her head and continued to study me, trying to coax a better answer from my lips.  “Certainly you must have an opinion.”

Fear crept up my spine as I wondered if she knew.  Did all the teachers know?  The staff?  The custodians?  I sucked in a breath as I felt every single set of eyes on me and the sweat on my neck trickled down my back.  The walls around me shifted closer and closer as the temperature shot up about twenty degrees.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, my voice a bit ragged.  I cleared it.  “I have an opinion.”

“Share it with us, won’t you?” she requested, pleased that she’d finally been successful in her endeavors to get me to participate in class.

“I think child killers should be put to death but before that, they should be made to suffer.  They should have to endure horrible, indescribable torture until they scream and beg for death.  Especially if they molested the child.”

I’d given my answer in a succinct tone, leaving no questions as to whether I’d believed it or not, but immediately regretted voicing my mind.  The classroom that had seconds earlier been filled with raucous opinions was now as silent as a closed library.  Luckily, the bell rang and the class came back to life, whispering in subdued voices about my answer as Miss Ramirez shouted out our homework assignment.

I raced from the room to deposit my books in my locker, disregarding the cautious looks and the pointed fingers. I slammed the door and stomped off to the cafeteria, no appetite once again, and searched desperately for Fin.  When I didn’t see him, I ambled to our table and took a seat, slumping low in the chair in hopes of blending in with my surroundings.

Damon was the first to join me. He placed his tray carefully on the table before sitting down slowly, his eyes fixed on me.  “Dude, how’s things?”

“Fine,” I said as I slid my arms on the table and rested my chin on my elbow.  “And you?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said, seriousness dulling his eyes.  He glanced over my shoulder, and then ducked his head over his lunch tray.  “But later.”

I gave him a quick nod
as Fin took the vacant seat next to me. A couple seconds later, Shane and Reg sat across the table next to Damon.

I smiled at Fin, my heart attem
pting a weak flutter.  He frowned when he noticed my lack of lunch food and clicked his tongue at me.

“Why aren’t you eating, Rena?”

I shrugged.  “The line was really long.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said as he shoved a salad under my nose along with a ranch dressing package and a fork.  “Here.  Eat this.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I ripped open the dressing and squeezed it over the lettuce.  I pushed the Government class debate aside as I stabbed at the salad and took a huge bite.  I needed to pull out of the funk and act like I hadn’t a care in the world.  But one look at Damon’s concerned face sent my stomach quivering again.

“Man,” Reg complained as she attacked her bologna sandwich.  “I’m so tired of hearing about this rich dude’s kid that they found murdered. So the hell what?  There’s nothing anyone can do for the kid now.”

My hand froze, fork halfway to my mouth, gaping at her, not able to form a response.  But I didn’t have to for Fin responded for me.

“Yeah, maybe, but it sucks.  Can you imagine what her family is going through?”  A shudder wracked his body as he glanced down at his fo
od.  “My cousin was nineteen when he was killed in a car accident last year and it was hell – hell on my mother and hell on my aunt and uncle.  I can only imagine what the Frieze family went through – months of not knowing just to find the kid dead.”

I shook out of my stupor and shoved a heaping
forkful of salad in my mouth, nodding as if I agreed with whoever was speaking.  I did not need someone to ask me to voice my opinion as it was obvious that I couldn’t do so in a subtle manner.

“Who would do that, you know?” Shane asked, his eyes darting to all of ours.  “I mean, who just snatches a kid and does who knows what to it then kills it and dumps it in the woods?”

“Some sick bastard,” Fin growled then chugged his soft drink.  “Some sicko who can’t control his urges or something.  People like that are the worst kind.  There’s no punishment good enough for them.”

Damon’s eyes caught mine then shot away
quickly.  My insides warmed as my stomach turned queasy.  I dropped my fork and pushed my salad away.  Fin noticed and shot me a questioning look.

“I’m just not hungry,” I said with a smile.

“Hey, Fin,” Grant said as he straddled an empty chair.  I was a bit surprised to see him at our table as he hadn’t joined us in a while.  Usually, he sat with Gina and her group.

Grant leaned past Fin to give me a warm smile.  “Fin, dude, I need to talk to you before practice.  Meet me a bit early, okay?”

I couldn’t see Fin’s face but I was certain his brow was crumpled as curiosity washed over his features.  “Sure, man.  I’ll see you there.”

Grant nodded, saluted us all
, and left as abruptly as he’d arrived.  I tugged on Fin’s sleeve until he faced me.

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Fin confessed as he finished his drink.  “Probably something to do with the team.  Are you finished?” he asked, pointing at my salad.  I nodded.  “Let’s go.”

***

The rest of my day passed in mostly a blur.  My mind was still on the current events report while the rest of the school was talking, quite loudly, about my outburst.  It bothered me, true, but perhaps I was still numb because I couldn’t bring myself to worry about it.  Besides, the rumor mill obviously needed new material on me and who was I to refuse?

I’d nearly forgotten Damon’s request for a talk as I sat on my stool at work
that night, watching the snow grow steadily heavier.  Business was horribly slow, making the night drag endlessly.  All I wanted was for Fin to make his usual appearance so I could see him again before I went home.

When the bell dinged, it woke me from my snow staring
. I grinned as Damon approached the counter, but it fell at his somber expression and my knees grew weak.

“What’s the problem?” I asked as a knot formed in my stomach.

He shifted from one foot to the other as he dropped his gaze to the lottery ticket case.  He trailed a long finger along the counter and his reluctance to speak just added to my agony.

“Damon, just tell me,” I pleaded.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said.  I nodded, prodding him to continue.  “Well, when I was in line to get my food at lunch today, the girls in front of me were talking about you.”

I gave him my usual response – a roll of the eyes -
trying to draw one of his playful smirks. But it didn’t work.  “So what?  Everyone always talks about me.  Who cares?”

“Yeah but they were talking about how you sort of went off about child molesters in your Government class.”

“Oh, geez,” I said, standing and shaking my head in disgust.  “I was only voicing my opinion.  The teacher asked me what I thought.”

“Yeah, but, they said you were really passionate about it and they thought that maybe…well…maybe you’d been…you know…”

My brow furrowed as I leaned over the counter.  “What?”

“You know…molested,” he said, his face instantly growing red.  “Did someone do that to you?”

Shock hit me so hard that it nearly knocked me off my feet. I stared at him like I’d never seen him before in my life.  “Honestly?  Oh, hell, Damon!  No, no one’s ever … done that to me.”  I shuddered involuntarily in disgust.  “No.”

His entire body relaxed as a relieved smile fluttered across his lips.  “Okay, good.  I mean, I’d still be your friend and wouldn’t think differently or anything.  I was just worried.  I thought if it happened to you that maybe you needed someone to talk to or something.”

A gush of affection rose in me. I longed to hop over the counter and hug him fiercely.  I’d thought I didn’t really have a friend in Dunewood but one stood before me, worrying that someone may have violated me and ready to do what he could to help me overcome it.