Fragments (16 page)

“So ladies, I want these incidents to be forgotten and none further to take place.”

Really? That’s it?

He continued, “Girls, I believe you owe an apology to Beatrice.”

No freaking way.

Brit and Kristen actually looked apologetic, and there was no mistaking the fury circulating from their parents. They stuttered a heartfelt apology, though I couldn’t return any sort of forgiveness.

When it came to Stacey, she looked directly at me and quietly muttered a sarcastic, “Sorry.” A sly smile spread across her face, knowing that once we were done, she’d have the freedom to eventually torment me once again. Well, not on my watch. 

Mr Rogers began shuffling in his seat to leave, looking at me to forgive her. I shook my head and scoffed.

“So, sir, you mean to tell me after four years, and this—” I held up my wrist, “—I get a one-word apology?”

He sighed heavily as though I was inconveniencing him, but instead of allowing him to answer, I continued. “Sir, with all due respect, Stacey can take her apology and shove it up her arse. There is no way in hell that I will sit here and forgive her. I was made to feel humiliated for four years as she attacked me, and not once did I feel safe to approach the teachers. Brit and Kristen have apologised, but I won’t fold for their ringleader. Sorry, sir, but fuck that.”

My mother gasped, but instead of unleashing her fury at my bad language, she surprised me by smiling. “Mr Rogers, I suggest you re-evaluate what will happen here today.”

Looking directly at Stacey’s parents, she continued. “You—” she pointed, “—have a daughter who is a danger to other students.”

Stacey’s parents glared back at my mother, her mother’s lips curved up in disgust. 

“Our daughter barely scratched her. It was simply a misunderstanding and she said she was sorry,” her mother hissed.  

“Well, if that is the case, may I retrieve a compass and attack your arm? Perhaps that would be a misunderstanding, too?”

Stacey’s mother clutched at her collar in outrage. My mother had no qualms with being defensive.

Mr Rogers rose from his seat with his arms outstretched. “This was a misunderstanding. If we can just resolve it, all the girls can go on their way.”

As frustrating as he was, his stupidity gave my family excellent insight as to why I’d never confessed. My mother’s gaze turned nuclear and she glared at him.

“Sorry is not good enough!” Nonna yelled, stomping her foot. “How
dare
you think that a ‘sorry’ will fix this?” Her eyes narrowed, her top lip curving into a sneer. “My Beatrice is hurt, and we will stay until we see someone else.”

“Mr Rogers, you will kindly go and retrieve the Principal. We refuse to have any more dealings with you. Unless you want the police involved in assault charges, I suggest you scuttle away quickly.” Mamma was making sure there was no way that I would go back into that school at Stacey’s mercy again. No way.

              Two hours. That was how long it took to drum into the Principal that you wouldn’t take the school’s bullshit. Two hours for them to openly admit that they did not know the extent of my injury or the reason behind it. Two hours to finally see the look of concern on the principal’s face as he observed the cut on your wrist while you recount how a staff member glazed over the whole situation. As he listened to me tell him about the incidents, and despite this being the moment where I should have felt vindicated, it became an anti-climax as I sat opposite the person who had made my life hell and didn’t see her flinch or show any sort of guilt. I started to feel like I was sinking into quicksand when Mr Sanders turned and stared directly at me.

“Beatrice, what conclusion would you like today to end in?”

I blinked and stared back.

I blew out a short breath and muttered quickly, “To feel safe, sir. To walk around school and not fear any form of retribution for being here now.”

He nodded and glanced to Stacey. “Anything to add before I make my decision?”

Stacey grunted and rolled her eyes, and crossing her arms across her chest, she whined, “It wasn’t serious, sir; she just can’t take a joke.” 

I braced myself for a mediocre decision and considered transferring to one of the other high schools in town. As I was mentally checking off which ones to consider, I heard a throat clearing to my side. Brit was leaning forward in her chair with her arm half raised, trying to garner some attention.

“Excuse me, Mr Sanders, but I’d like to say something.”

He looked directly at her and used his right hand to gesture for her to continue. 

“Um,” she shifted nervously in her chair. “You see, for years Stacey has encouraged us to help her out with picking on other kids and I must admit—” she swallowed, ducking her head so she was looking at her crossed ankles, “—it started off being a bit of fun. But now … it’s gotten worse. Sir, what I’m trying to say is that Stacey had an agenda that day. If we had been in another class, it might’ve been worse. She complained that we didn’t have Art because she wanted to grab a Stanley knife to cut up Trice’s face.”

Both my mother and I gasped at her revelation.

“I really believe that Stacey would have gotten worse, Sir, and unfortunately, we were too blind to pull away.”

I snuck a look at Stacey, who had since turned and sat glaring at Brit mouthing,
What the fuck? You bitch,
to her. I smiled inside—it felt like the tables were finally turning.

“Well, then,” Mr Sanders began, “Brit, thank you for that admission. You and Kristen, you are not to return to school until Friday, and no more incidents like this are to be repeated. Stacey—” he turned his gaze to her, “—seeing as you have shown no remorse and have encouraged others to participate in the assault of another student, I feel it is in the best interest of the school in both safety and our moral code that you do not return. You are hereby expelled.”

I blinked and quickly glanced back over to her. The colour had drained from her face. Her hand touched her gaping mouth as she stared back at him. 

“What?” her mother shouted. “This is ridiculous!”

“I can assure you that it is not,” Mr Sanders countered, “Beatrice, I think it would be best if you took a few days to recoup and came back to us on Wednesday.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Sir, I believe I’ve hidden away enough. I’ll come back today, if that’s okay. Time to start afresh.”

He nodded and rose from his seat, indicating for us to leave through the main entrance. I hitched my school bag over my right shoulder and looked over to Stacey. There was no eye contact, instead in her seat, sat a weak and sad girl, her lips quivering as tears trailed down her face. 

I turned and followed my mother and grandmother out of the door. We were barely past the doorframe when I was quickly drawn into mamma’s arms. 

“
Brava
, Beatrice.
Sei proprio brava
.” Mamma gave me a final squeeze and released me.

I smiled and turned, heading to class. I already felt the clamp of guilt ease from my chest and I welcomed the feeling of justice.

              By the end of the day, whispers of Stacey’s expulsion had gone around, and funnily enough, the gossip about my ‘attempted suicide’ was forgotten. That was high school—high on the drama, low on reality. Students were too impatient to stick with the gossip for too long. It was worse than paparazzi. 

Hazel, Trin, and Theo were thrilled about the news, so much so that Trin got a detention that night for yelling out, “Take that, whores! Fuck with us and you pay!” right as our History teacher walked past. We burst into laughter and she just shrugged and winked.

Walking around the yard felt surreal. I didn’t have the fear of looking over my shoulder anymore. The winter chill didn’t stop the warmth from filling my chest. I giggled as I walked to class, my steps turning into a light skip. I didn’t care if anyone thought I had gone crazy, I was finally truly happy.

I arrived at the bus stop later that afternoon, my cheeks red with a slight ache from the smile I held all day.  Students began piling onto our bus, but I could only see Robbie. Alex was nowhere to be seen. He never missed a day, his results were too important to him. Robbie had been ecstatic about my news on the bus, but my chest ached at not being able to tell Alex.
Did I want to tell him?
 

“He didn’t come today.”

Breaking out of my thoughts, I muttered, “Who?” 

“Alex. I know you were wondering. Trice, he had a really shitty weekend. You might want to lose the whole ‘raving sour bitch’ routine towards him.”

I glared at Robbie and sneered, “He dated the worst bitch in history, Rob. I don’t think I can forget straight away; got it?”

He returned my glare. “Yeah, I do. But you can try. At least freakin’ try.”

I huffed and turned my back to him. Shaking my head, I stared out the window and watched the dry landscape pass by. We sat in silence for the remainder of the trip. 

Once home, I threw my bag on the couch and noticed the answering machine light was blinking. Reaching over, I tapped the
play
button. A clear male voice began speaking.

“Hello? Yes, this is Mr Edgar Stevenson. I would like to inform Beatrice Vera that her place in the senior dance academy has been successful. We look forward to working with her both locally and when she graduates and heads to Melbourne …”

He rattled off enrolment dates, but my brain had frozen on ‘
successful
.’ Anger towards Robbie soon dissipated as I ran around the house, screaming, “I got in!” over and over. Things were looking up and I couldn’t wait! Senior school would train me for entry to the prestigious academy in Melbourne. Bring it on. 

“Colors”

Amos Lee

Alex

Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. After spending a week in and out of consciousness, I had woken up with a split knuckle and no recollection of how I got it. After three days of waking up with a splitting headache and furry teeth—I finally got my shit together. I didn’t need something else tying me closer to my father. My self-inflicted pity party wasn’t going to get Bea’s friendship back. A week was a long time to spend not speaking to her. Even on the bus, she sat at the front, turning her head away as I passed.

This morning, frustrated by her freeze out, I knocked on her window and was left standing there. My knuckle still had an angry cut across it, but there was nothing I could do about it. I waited for any sign of movement but—nothing. I curled my fists, about to bang louder on her window, but I knew she’d ignore it. With a sigh, I left and jogged the lonely trail alone.  

Our football match was in two hours so I headed home to get cleaned up and ready. The aggression unfurled inside and I needed to let off some steam. We were playing our rivals, The Suns—so many cocky arseholes on that team. I could do with a few fights.

Walking into our house, I quietly raced up to the bathroom to shower. Turning on the faucet, I kept thinking of Trice’s words.
“I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”
It ran on a loop, over and over in my mind. I turned the cold water tap down to make the shower hotter, burning my back and giving me something to feel besides guilt.  As the water ran down, I scolded myself for being such an idiot. Flashbacks of my shitty relationship with Stacey filtered into my mind.
Her asking about Beatrice, mentioning she knew her, asking how long I’d known her and Robbie … S
he never asked about any of my other mates. A big neon sign saying, “Dickhead” should have been posted on my forehead. I had missed all the signs and now lost a life-long friend. Nope, I decided. If I had to camp outside her bedroom window, I would.  Come hail or shine. 

I arrived at the football oval, excited to play. The boys were all huddled in the field in two separate teams, so I headed towards my guys.

“What’s up, morons?” I greeted.

“Well, don’t you look like Mr Chipper today? Um, except for your hand. What did you do?” Ty ribbed me.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Why wouldn’t I be pumped? Time to kick some arse!” I smiled.

“So, it’s not because of the tail you’re chasing at the moment? No guys trying to chase it? Or is it just little ol’ Stace putting a smile on your dial?” Jase quipped.

My eyes narrowed at him. “Do not mention that conniving bitch again. We’re over, and that’s how it should be. I just hurt my hand helping out Dad the other day. End of story. ”

The boys looked at me in shock. I never spoke to them in that tone, ever.

“Chill, bro, we are just teasin’ you. Lips are sealed,” Ty said, motioning his hands across his mouth.

“Appreciate it. Where’s Coach?”

With that, we went back to normal. Guys are good like that.

              Before long, the whistle blew and the match got underway. Luckily for me, playing the forward position meant that I could let off some steam. Unlucky for the opposition, it also meant that they would suffer a few ‘boo boos’.  Running to my position, I shook out my legs and stretched my arms while keeping an eye on the ball. Cory, my opponent, had been a dick to Robbie and me at a party recently, so this was going to be fun. I was channelling some pretty fierce adrenaline, and I kept on my player the best that I could.