Unlocked (21 page)

Chelsea screamed from the other room, and the lens of the abandoned pedestal camera drifted toward the floor. Students rushed around Manny and Plug to watch them fight. My cheeks heated up. Why didn't Manny tell me he was coming back today?

“Go to a public service announcement!” Mr. Arnold yelled at the broadcast crew.

Manny pounded Plug over and over with his fist. His class ring bit into Plug's flesh. The class ring I'd talked Manny into getting so we would remember our senior year together. Plug did nothing to fight back. He just lay there and watched each blow come at him.

I clutched Manny's shirt and tried to pull him off, but I was too scrawny. Nick grabbed Manny's fist and prevented another swing from connecting.

“Don't hurt him!” I yelled. Nick glared at me. His biceps bulged as he restrained Manny.

Mr. Arnold gripped Manny's shoulders. Together, he and Nick hauled Manny off Plug. Manny got in a swift kick to Plug's side before Nick shoved Manny in the chest. Manny bent forward, held his ribs, and howled in pain.

“Stop!” I yelled.

“Take Manny to the nurse,” Mr. Arnold said to Mark.

Mark slipped his arm under Manny's shoulder to support him. I grabbed Manny's hand, but he yanked it away.

Mr. Arnold clutched my elbow.

“Let go!” I wrenched away from him.

I reached out for Manny, but he staggered backward. “Manny—”

“I don't even recognize you,” he said. His eyes welled, but he lifted his chin toward the ceiling so no tears would fall. Mark urged him through the door.

“Go help with the camera,” Mr. Arnold said to Nick. But Nick ignored Mr. Arnold and helped his friend stand. Blood dripped from Plug's lip, his cheeks were cut, and one eye had already begun to swell.

The group of gawking students parted to let Chelsea through from the studio to the center of the action. Her eyes widened at me, and she broke into her donkey laugh.

“What are you wearing?” Chelsea flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder.

“What are
you
wearing?” I mocked her and stepped toward her. “My tennis shoes you borrowed. The jeans Lily paid for. And that's my blouse.” I reached out, clutched the collar, and ripped. Buttons popped off. But Mr. Arnold seized my wrist before I finished tearing the fabric off her.

Chelsea's tan face paled, and she covered her chest.

Mr. Arnold steered me away with his sweaty hand, but I yelled at Chelsea. “You can't even afford to buy your own clothes. You're an imposter. A fake. A no one.”

“At least I showered today,” she said. The onlookers laughed, and Chelsea turned her back to me.

Mr. Arnold escorted me to the hallway. “Hannah, I've been patient with you this week, but this behavior is unacceptable. You could be expelled.”

“You don't have the authority to expel me,” I said.

Mr. Arnold glared at me, but before he said anything more, Plug staggered between us.

“We'll go,” Plug said.

Mr. Arnold pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his face. He repositioned his glasses, and then he shook his head slowly as he said to me, “Hannah, you've changed from the girl I knew last year. I don't know what's possessed you, but you've become violent and mean. You are unwelcome in my classroom.”

“Come on,” Plug said and pressed my back.

“It wasn't my fault.” But it was. I'd kissed Plug, even though I loved Manny. It was senseless. If I had been faithful to Manny none of this would have ever happened.

Nick followed us into the hall. “Plug, are you okay?”

“Go help Mr. Arnold,” Plug said, “before he kicks you out of class, too.”

“Is she worth this?” Nick whispered.

“I can hear you,” I said.

Nick glared at me for a second and then went back to broadcasting.

When Plug and I rounded the corner of the hall, he pulled me into the boys' bathroom.

“I can't be in here,” I said. “Someone will see us.”

“Stop worrying about what other people think.” Plug dampened some paper towels in the sink and held them against his bloodied lip. He grimaced in pain. He lifted the paper towels and examined the damage in the mirror. His silver ring had been ripped out, and the flesh was torn.

“You need to see the nurse,” I said.

“Manny's there.” Plug tried to speak without moving his lips.

“Why didn't you fight back?” Tears ran down my face.

“He saw us kissing.”

“But you didn't fight back.”

“If I hurt him, I'd hurt you.”

I rested my hand on his back. Plug had been so loyal to me when I'd done nothing to deserve it.

“Go check on him,” Plug said through his clenched jaw.

“And leave you?”

“You don't belong to me.” In one swift motion, Plug spun around and kicked the stall door. It banged against the wall and then swung back and forth until it finally slowed and stilled.

“You belong to him,” Plug whispered. “I should have respected that sooner, especially with everything going on around you right now. I'm sorry for hurting you, Hannah.”

I studied his gray eyes. “You didn't hurt me. You've helped me.”

“I'm going home.” He dabbed the paper towel against his bloodied lip.

“You need stitches. Let me go with you.” I squeezed his hand.

“The office probably called your mom,” Plug said. “You need to be here.”

“What about you, and when your dad gets here?”

Plug shook his head. “He left for Vegas today.”

I reached up and traced Plug's jaw, but he pulled my fingers away.

“Hannah, you're going to be all right.”

“Not without you,” I said.

“Yes, even without me,” Plug said. “Go check on Manny. It will ease your mind.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into me.

“Call me when you get home,” Plug said.

“I have an appointment this afternoon with the psychiatrist.”

“Call me after,” he said and pressed his forehead against mine.

We left the bathroom together, but separated at the end of the hall.

“Go home,” a man's voice said behind me. I spun around to see if Plug was still in the hallway, but I was alone. I rubbed my face, and then I covered my ears.

“Control your thoughts,” I whispered to myself. To help focus, I counted each step to the nurse's office.

Mark huffed when he saw me. “Haven't you caused enough trouble?”

My throat tightened, and I feared if I spoke, I'd start sobbing. So I kept quiet. The room smelled of antiseptic. Manny sat on top of the nurse's desk, and she wrapped his ribs. Bruises peeked out from the edges of the white tape.

“Only leave this on for a few hours,” she said, “to help you get past this immediate pain.”

Manny nodded, but his face contorted.

The nurse noticed me and said, “Hannah, you can wait in the front office. They've already phoned your mother. She'll be here soon.”

“Can I have a minute with Manny?” I asked.

“One minute,” she said and prodded Mark to leave with her.

He bumped into me as he left. “Slut,” he said, loudly enough for the whole world to hear.

Manny huffed, as though he agreed. And in that moment I knew things had changed between us forever. I flashed back to the fair when Jordan had said obnoxious things about me stuffing his shorts with money and Manny had come to my defense and told him never to talk to me that way. But now, when Mark called me a slut, Manny did nothing to defend me. The difference was at the fair I'd done nothing wrong, and today I had.

Manny fumbled with his shirt. He started to lift it, but he stopped and groaned with the pain. The desk squeaked under his shifting weight.

“Let me help you.” I reached for his shirt, but he held up a finger.

“No,” he said.

I moved closer and touched his wrist. “Manny, let me—”

“No!” He jerked away, and for a split second I feared he would hit me, just like my father had, just like Jordan's mother had. But instead, he stopped himself and clenched his fingers into a tight fist. Through gritted teeth, he said to me, “You kissed Eugene Polaski in front of everyone. He was all over you. Is that who you are now? Do you let anyone put their hands all over you?”

Images from last night in my bathroom flooded my mind. Those large, hairy hands touching me. Panic bubbled inside of me. I peered at Manny's hands. His were smaller, smoother, and hairless, but his knuckles were covered with blood from Plug's face. I gasped for air, and the edges of my vision blurred. I stumbled over to the desk chair and sank down. Manny kept yelling at me.

“We had something special. Something forever. But now, how am I supposed to get the image of you kissing Eugene out of my head? I used to think we were alike—we wanted the same things—but ever since the accident, you've changed.”

“I have not.”

“Can't you see how Eugene is making you different? You used to care about your appearance, but now you're dressed like a bum in winter.”

I covered my face and leaned forward. Nausea overtook me, and the bitter taste of bile filled my mouth. I hung my head between my knees and tried to breathe.

A deep voice said, “You're just like your dad.”

I jerked up and glared at Manny.

“What'd you say?” I asked.

“I said he's changing you. He's manipulating you. Convincing you to do things you never would have done a week ago.” Manny rubbed his knuckles against his pants. “Has he convinced you to spread your legs for him, too, or just your lips?”

My mouth dropped open. And my heart sank. His words hurt worse than any slap across my face could have.

“Never mind,” Manny whispered. “I don't want to know.”

“You have no right to judge me,” I said and stood up.

“You kissed Eugene!” Manny moved closer to me. “We were supposed to go to Princeton together. Be together forever. And instead you kissed Eugene.” Manny set a hand on his taped ribs. “I never want to see you again.”

“Manny, we've been friends for years.” I clutched his bare shoulder, and he jerked away.

“And I can't erase the image of Eugene's lips all over yours. I can't even look at you without seeing him touching you.”

“Manny—”

“No.”

We reached an impasse. There was no way he could excuse what I'd done. And there was no way to erase the awful things he'd said. We would never return to the way we were before the accident.

I ran out the front doors of the school, sank to the curb, and bawled. I replayed the incidents in my mind. Less than thirty minutes ago, I had believed things could return to normal, but Manny made it sound as if I wasn't even myself anymore.

A shadow moved across the asphalt, and I glanced skyward. Storm clouds formed and drifted in front of the sun. A breeze kicked up the dirt next to the curb where I waited, and the temperature dropped. Hopefully, Mom would get here before the clouds burst open. Ants scurried over the leaves and debris, searching for shelter. Several darted up the side of my boot. I let them explore. They could bite me, but even if they did, it wouldn't be real. I set my fingers in their path and let them crawl across my skin.

Mom drove up to the curb. I stood and dusted myself off.

I opened the door of the Prius and slid into the passenger seat. “Glad you got here before the rain dumped on me,” I said and buckled in.

Mom leaned forward and scrutinized the sky through the windshield. Then she reached over and clutched my hand.

“I need to go into the office and sign you out,” she said.

“Can we please just leave?” I asked.

“The school said there'd been a fight. Are you hurt?” She eyed me up and down.

“Manny attacked Plug,” I said.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Plug?”

“I mean Eugene.”

Mom shifted into drive. “The boy who was at the house last night?” Mom asked and drove away.

“Yes.”

“What provoked the fight?”

“Manny saw Eugene kiss me.”

“I thought you and Manny were together.”

“I thought we were, too.” More tears spilled down my cheeks. “But Manny just broke up with me.” I wiped my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

“Are you sleeping with Eugene?” Mom asked.

“No! How could you even ask that?”

“Because Eugene was at the house late last night, and Manny's a nice boy. I can't imagine him punching a guy unless he deserved it.”

“You're taking Manny's side?”

“No, I'm on your side.” She parked in the driveway of our house. “Run inside and change your clothes.”

“Why?”

“I refuse to take you to the hotel like that. Brush your hair, too.”

“Let me stay home.” I said.

“We've got the doctor's appointment in a few hours, and I'm missing auditions as we—”

“What auditions?” I asked.

“For the hotel's new lounge. I told you about it the other night. Don't you remember?” Mom tilted her head toward me, but she didn't wait for me to answer. “You're coming with me where I can keep an eye on you. Then we'll go see Dr. James.” She pointed to the house. “Go. I'll wait here and make some phone calls.” She lifted her phone from her purse.

I walked to the front door and let myself in. The fragrance of sage filled the house, and I pulled in a lungful. I felt peaceful, as if I'd left my problems outside. I ran up the stairs and paused in front of the bathroom door.

I didn't remember Plug smudging the bathroom—he said he'd done the rest of the house while I was in the bathroom. I moved away from the door and went to my bedroom. I stood in front of my full-length mirror and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. My white bra looked absurd on the outside of my pink shirt, but I couldn't bring myself to touch it. I kicked off my boots and stepped out of my jeans.