“We've been getting calls about some girl screaming and waving a flag near there,” he says. “And some guy's windshield got smashed by a falling glass block. Squad cars are on the way. Anything to do with you?”
“Probably,” I say. I turn to Amy, who is staring out over the lake. “You know anything about a glass block and a flag?”
She nods but doesn't speak.
“Yeah, that was Amy,” I say. “I guess she had a plan.”
“Smart girl,” Rayburn says. “If you hadn't turned up, we would have been there soon though.”
After I hang up, I sit beside Amy on the wall and put my arms around her.
“The cops will be here soon. They'll have a lot of questions. You want to call your mom first?” I punch in the number.
She nods and says, “Speaker” through clenched teeth. She is shivering uncontrollably now. I can hear sirens. Lots of sirens.
Her mom answers the phone. “Hello? Eric, is that you?”
“It's me, Mom,” Amy says. Her voice is steady, even as her body shakes. “It's me, Amy.”
Jason's trial won't happen for ages. He's locked up somewhere. Nicki helped the cops nail Jason, so they only charged her with aiding and abetting or whatever. She's free to run around blabbing about what a bitch I am. It's total bullshit. She may not have raped anyone, but she helped plan the whole thing. She paid Shawna. Nicki says it was all meant to be a joke. Jason was going to let me out after a few days. He wasn't ever going to hurt me. Tell that to Vanna Bryson. She charged him with rape. I charged him with kidnapping and unlawful confinement. We'll both have to testify. It will be worse for her. I got away. She didn't. Except for that first day, I never felt totally helpless. She must have, because she was. I hope she's okay, but I can't imagine that she is. My lawyer says I'm not supposed to talk to her. I'm not sure why. But I texted her anyway, to say I was sorry. She never texted me back.
I'm okayâbarely. I see a therapist once a week. I have nightmares. I can't stand to be in any room with the door shut. Dr. Milne says that's normal, but it makes using the bathroom hell. My appetite is all over the place. I crave weird things that I haven't eaten since I was little. KD with hot dogs. Coke floats. Mom gets me whatever I want. Beth sits with me and watches
Sex and the City
(which she hates). Eric comes over every day after school and stays until I fall asleep. Or longer. A couple of times I've woken up in the night, and he's been asleep on the floor beside my bed. No one says anything about him staying over. Dad calls every day. But none of them really understand. How could they? I know they're trying, but it's pretty lonely sometimes. Dr. Milne says it will get better. Mom says to trust Dr. Milne. I try.
My essays were all found in the glove compartment of Jason's Mom's suv. His
IQ
really is smaller than his shoe size. The originals are all in an evidence locker somewhere, but I asked Detective Rayburn for copies. I showed them to Mom, and she couldn't stop crying and saying how proud she was of me. She even told me I had a gift. Maybe she's right.
One of the cops took pictures of my wall art. I have copies of those too. As well as photos of the Leaning Tower of Doom. I lay all the evidence out on my bed and look at it every day. I read the essays and let my feelings surge through me. Like an electric current. I'm furious at Jason, but I'm also furious at myself for ever dating him. I'm too lazy to make my bed, but I sleep so much it doesn't matter. I'm greedy for open spaces and the sound of laughter. I'm envious of my happy friends, who only want to talk about clothes and boys. I'm hungry for junk food, even though I'm starting to get zits. I'm not quite ready to have sex with Eric. But mostly, I'm really proud of myself. Proud that I used everything that was in me to escape. My brain. My muscles. My rage. My greed. I'm proud that I survived. And that's no sin.
Thank you, as always, to Andrew Wooldridge and the rest of the pod at Orca.
Sarah N. Harvey is the author of ten books for children and young adults. Some of her books have been translated into Korean, German and Slovenian, none of which she speaks or reads (although she is trying to learn Italian). Her novel
The Lit Report
has been optioned for a feature film. She will not be in it. Sarah lives and writes in Victoria, British Columbia. For more information, visit
www.sarahnharvey.com
.