Breakable (31 page)

Since
Finn had taken his poison to it, I’d only changed three things: My portrait’s
eyes now looked down and away, trying not to see the words and pictures Finn
scrawled. I’d cleaned up the edges on all the letters. The unpracticed eye
wouldn’t notice, but there was the tiniest black outline to give them
crispness. They and the… er… other addition appeared to cut through the rest of
the picture and jump off the canvas.

It
was deeply satisfying and deeply painful. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and
sure the judges wouldn’t get it at all.

But
what choice did I have? It was use the painting, or nothing. Mrs. C. had to
approve my submission today.

I
couldn’t think about it or I’d give up.

Instead,
I turned my focus to the black hole on the left-hand panel.

I
had no idea what had happened to the pieces of the Mark picture I’d torn off
the canvas. I rummaged through my cubby until I found my workbook.

Sure
enough, a large brown envelope fell out, all the pieces of the Mark sketches
jumbled inside it. I’d have to remember to thank Mrs. C. Again.

I
turned it upside down on the floor and knelt to sort the pictures out.

Three
were smudged, the forehead had been torn almost in half, and the waxy acrylic
on one cheek had a long scrape through it – had I done that?

They
weren’t salvageable, but at least I could copy them. That would make the re-do
much quicker.

So
I grabbed another canvas board from the resource room and tacked it to the
panel where Mark should have been, and got busy placing the pieces as I would
when they were clean and complete.

Even
though it wouldn’t have the same impact, at least Mrs. C. could see how it came
together.

The
clock said two-forty-five. My hands still shook, but I set myself at the
picture with a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt… well, ever. Deep down, I knew
this day was the turning point. The moment I’d look back on and say “That’s
when my life changed.” I needed to forget about how it came about and just use
it to my advantage. Use Older Me’s betrayal as fuel to keep going. Use Finn’s
spite to headline my success.

He’d
hate
that.

Ten
minutes later I had both of Mark’s eyes, his head and hair, one cheekbone, the
jaw and nose in place. There were still two ears and a mouth to sort out when
the door jiggled then clicked open. Damn. She was back early!

My
breath picked up to match the rush of nerves and I rushed to get the mouth in
place before Mrs. C. walked in and saw it.

The
only warning I had was the squeak of a shoe on the shiny floor.

Expecting
Mrs. C., and cursing her timing, I turned. But the words died on my lips.

Finn
stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. His jaw was tight, but for once he
wasn’t sneering. He scanned the room, then looked at me.

“What
are you doing here?” I snapped.

He
swallowed. “They said you’d come back. I didn’t believe them.”

“And?
So?”

His
expression didn’t change, but he took a couple steps inside the door and his
chin came forward. “I thought about what happened and I felt like… well, maybe
it had gone a little too…” His eyes dropped to something beside me and his
voice trailed off.

I
followed his gaze, curious what had caught his attention. My eyes fell on Older
Me first, in the mirror, face gaunt and haggard – this was taking it’s toll on
her too. But then I remembered Finn couldn’t see her. My eyes tripped to the
boards and landed on the portraits I’d done… him with his hard, angular
features all cut and smudged in black, his poison lips an acidic blend of red
and purple. Karyn, shiny and silvered with her auger eyes.

Oh,
crap.

He
stared, first at them, then at me, back at them. Then, like a faucet turning
on, the uncertainty in his face disappeared. The poison started in his eyes and
slowly spread down.

Why
had I ever thought he hated me before?
This
was hate. This was black
venom. It drained into his shoulders, then his arms – which banked and curled
toward me. I flinched, but instead of the shove I’d expected, it was just a
pointed finger.

I
made myself stand up straight and meet his eye, set my jaw with the same
determination as his. Like I was proud of myself and not at all scared of him.

If
Older Me could lie like a champion, then I could too.

“Stacy?”
Her voice – cracked, like she was crying – rose from the mirror behind me. But
I ignored her.

Finn
sneered at me, his shoulders rising and falling in time with his labored
breath. He stepped closer, pointed finger swinging towards the easel. “You
think that’s me?” he said.

“It’s
how I feel when I look at you.”

He
shoved a breath out through his nose and stepped across the floor toward me,
the finger leveled at my panting chest.

“Everyone
knows about you now. They all know how pathetic and mental you are. They all
read your little love letter, your confession and they laughed.” He got right
up in my face. I leaned back, but refused to step away.

I’d
forgotten how big he was. He used to be so skinny and lanky. He was still
smaller than Mark, still skinnier than Dex. But he wasn’t a twig anymore. I
wasn’t sure I was strong enough to–

“Everyone
knows about Friday,” he whispered, smiling. “Everyone knows you’re psycho
and
a slut.”

“I’m
not a slut!” I hissed. “You know that! What is your problem?”

“You’re
my problem!” His fingers splayed on my chest as he pushed me back a step. “Ever
since we were twelve years old you’ve been yapping at me like a stupid dog. Why
won’t you just shut the hell up and die so I never have to look at you again?”

“I
told you I was sorry, Finn. I tried to make them believe the truth. But they
didn’t want to! And besides, we were twelve years old. Don’t you think it’s
time to let it go?”

“No!
I still get girls accusing me of being a cheater because of your lies.”

“You
are
a cheater! It isn’t my fault if people know the truth! Haven’t you
returned the favor enough? People don’t just
tease
me, Finn. They hate
me!”

His
eyes lit up. Slowly, he stood straight, grinning. When he spoke, his voice was
back to normal. “You don’t get it, do you, C?” He leaned in. I tried to step
back, but my leg ran into something. I was forced to let him close. Let him
whisper in my ear. “I don’t make them hate you. I don’t have to. You do that
part all on your own.”

I
shoved him, but he barely moved. “Liar! You tell them all kinds of crap about
me!”

He
smirked. “How did you put it?
It isn’t my fault if people know the truth...
”
He glanced at the mirror over my shoulder. It was reflex to move, to block his
view of Older Me. But he pushed forward at the same moment I moved.

I
stumbled back, coming up hard to catch myself on a stack of stools next to the
mirror. They rocked, but didn’t give way.

Finn
glared down at me, one side of his lip curled up in a derisive sneer. He
grabbed the front of my blouse to pull me forward, his lips twisting. But I
twisted too, tried to get free of his grip.

Pop,
pop, pop. The buttons on my blouse went one at a time.

I
gasped and clutched at the material to keep it closed. But the light in Finn’s
eyes flared. “Never stop trying to catch me, do you, C?” He stared at my chest with
gleeful delight.

I
tried to twist around, to cover myself. But Finn kept struggling with me until
I slid to the floor with a thump, my tailbone taking the full impact. Tears
sprang to my eyes.

Then
I flinched, curled up to protect myself. Because he shoved the stools out of
the way and crouched down in front of me.

“Stacy,
oh no. Stacy, are you okay?” Older Me gasped from behind me.

Finn
stared at my chest, eyes wide and a sick smile on his face. “Maybe I should
take a picture of this, send it out to our
friends,
” he said softly. Too
softly.

I
pushed against his chest and screamed. “Leave me alone!”

“Oh,
no. This is too good an opportunity to miss.”

He’s
going to hurt me. He’s really going to hurt me this time.

“Leave
me alone!” I hated sounding so panicked. “Mrs. Callaghan will be here in a
minute. She… she’ll have you suspended.”

Finn
laughed. “Assembly day, C. Did you forget?”

Oh
no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Assembly. Everyone in the main auditorium. Even the
teachers. No roll taken. No one would know I wasn’t there. No one would know
Finn wasn’t there.

No
one knew he was with me.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Finn’s
cologne was sharp in my nostrils. But his smile was sharper.

Behind
me, Older Me sobbed. I almost screamed at her to get herself together. But even
if I’d wanted too, I couldn’t take my eyes off Finn. He was starting to scare
me.

He
loomed over me, one finger drawing a line from my throat, down my chest,
following the line where my shirt would fall open if I let it go. “You scared
yet?”

I
nodded and the tears came. “Yes, yes. Please. I’m sorry, Finn.”

He
sneered again and pushed himself off me with a curse. Then he turned away and
for a second I thought he would leave. I took a deep shuddering breath, then
froze again when he whirled around and braced in front of me, pulling me to my
feet and around to face the mirror.

“What
do you see?” he said. “How many people are there, Stacy? Are you prettier in
there? Thinner?”

“Leave
me alone!”

“You
know you’re totally nuts?”

I
opened my mouth to deny it, but what was the point?

Finn
leaned into my ear. “What? I couldn’t understand your bark, can you repeat
that?”

He’d
pinned my arms behind me. But the way he leaned, my hands were positioned low…

“I
said, leave me alone!” I closed my eyes and grabbed, squeezing as hard as I
could.

All
the air left him in a huff. He bent at the waist like he’d been snapped in the
middle and released me. His face turned puce. I watched his eyes and clenched
my teeth into a smile because no matter what he did now, I’d hurt him. He knew
it. And I knew it.

Finn’s
eyes watered. “Stupid. Worthless–” His hand whipped up, taking me in the chest
and shoving me back against the wall so hard my head cracked against it.

I
heard my brain bounce – boink! – like a basketball hitting the pavement. That
made me think of Mark. I wished he knew what kind of guy he was friends with.
Because surely, if he knew, he wouldn’t hate me so much for the letter.

I
dropped to the floor, holding my head, wondering if I would faint. Everything
in my head shrieked, so I wasn’t sure whether I heard a voice say “What
the–?!”, or if it was my words coming out on their own.

“Oh,
no!” Older Me sounded frightened. “It’s happening. It’s happening.”

What
was happening?

“What
is going on?”

Because
his voice was quiet, it took me a minute to realize Mark had arrived.

Over
Finn’s hunched shoulder I saw Mark in the doorway, a severe frown on his face, hands
clenched to fists at his side.

I
panicked. All I could think about was making sure he knew the truth before he
started listening to Finn.

“Mark,
I’m sorry about the letter but you have to believe me: Karyn really is cheating
with Finn–”

Finn
tried to catch my arm, but was too slow. “You think he’s going to listen to
your lies about his best friend and his girlfriend?”

“I’m
his best friend!” I spat.

“Not
anymore,” Finn said, and smiled.

“Maybe
that’s my call,” Mark said quietly, glaring at Finn’s back.

“She
balled me, man. She’s mental,” Finn groaned.

“No.”
Full of fear and anger and desperate to tell Mark that wasn’t how it was, I
stumbled to my feet. But I couldn’t get my eyes to focus right. The room kept
tipping and I couldn’t stay in one place. “No, he hit me…”

Mark’s
eyes tripped past Finn to me and his expression went from anger to aghast.

He
stared at my chest. It seemed weird he’d look at my boobs at a time like this,
so I tried to cover them so he’d listen to me and help. But the sides of my
blouse wouldn’t stay together.

I
kept sliding sideways. Then Mark yelled and tackled Finn.

At
first they just wrestled, scuffled. I screamed at Mark to stop, but I don’t
think he heard me. And I couldn’t make my feet move in the right direction to
pull him off.

“Coward!”
Mark’s arm came back, then plowed forward with a sickening smack.

Finn
grunted and grabbed Mark’s head, twisting it sideways and down. They became a
whirl of arms and twisting bodies, and grunts.

Then
Finn swore. “Why…would you… stick up for her? She’s… a piece of…”

Mark
roared and swung, landing a punch on Finn’s ribs.

I
sobbed. He was losing it. He’d end up really hurting Finn, and he’d hate
himself. Think he was like his Dad. It would be all my fault.

“M-Mark!
Stop!” I gasped.

Then
they rolled. Finn got top, then pushed himself off of Mark and sprang to his
feet, hands up. His face was red and purple in places. Blood seeped from a
corner of his lip which was swelling fast. Mark was slower to get to his feet,
but the look on his face chilled me.

“Mark,”
I breathed.

“Just
c-calm down, Mark,” Finn snapped, rubbing the blood from his chin with the back
of his wrist. “She isn’t worth it.”

Mark’s
face twisted. I expected him to reply. But he didn’t make a sound. Just threw
himself at Finn.

“No!”
I screamed.

A
guttural snarl left Mark’s throat as he tangled with Finn, punching, grabbing.
They turned and swung, plowing into each other and breaking apart, but always,
always moving.

I
tried to get out of their way, to get out of the room so I could call for help.
But their swinging arms and staggering tussles blocked me. They drew closer,
step by struggling step, and every time I tried to move, I slide further
sideways.

Then
Finn lunged. I jerked back and tripped over the leg of an easel. Mark bellowed
and they tumbled after me. The pile of easels crashed to the floor, taking my
heart with them because they were getting closer to my easels and I couldn’t
let them ruin my painting again.

“Stop!”
I screamed, then grabbed my head because yelling was like cutting through my
skull with a shard of glass.

Mark
froze. His head snapped up and he paled. “Your head’s bleeding!”

But
I didn’t have time to reassure him, or explain, because behind him Finn rose to
his feet. Before I could scream a warning, he threw himself at Mark, who
slammed forward into the floor, scattering stools and brushes.

Then
I wanted to cry because Mark was on his hands and knees on the floor, blood
dripping from his mouth. And I couldn’t get to him because between us Finn
stood over him, wavering.

“Why
are you standing up for her?” Finn heaved, holding his ribs. “She’s a–”

“Leave
him alone!” I screamed again and winced, but this time I went for Finn because
I was so
sick
of him twisting everything around.

He
barely glanced at me over his shoulder, just swiped his arm towards me to push
me off. But he caught me on the side of the head and I fell like a tree,
straight for the mirror.

“NO!”
Older Me screamed, her face twisted with despair. She cowered, arms over her
head, as I crashed through.