Backlash (30 page)

All I can think of while I’m lying there is how much I hate my sister, because it’s all her fault that this happened.

W
HEN
I finally get to sleep, if I can sleep without dreaming, I’m able to escape for a while from the mess I’ve made of my life. Not just my life. My whole family’s life.

When the alarm goes off to wake me for school, I turn it off, fighting off tears, because I don’t know if I can face another day.

I wonder if this is how Lara felt.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I try to summon up the energy to get moving. Get up and get dressed. Brush my hair. Put on makeup. Try to look my best on the outside, even though I feel awful on the inside. Go downstairs. Eat food that tastes like nothing, even though I’m not hungry, just so Dad doesn’t give me a hard time because I haven’t eaten.

“Come on, let’s go,” Dad says, picking up his car keys and his briefcase.

“I might take the bus today,” Liam mumbles, staring down into his cornflakes.

“Go with your father, Liam,” Mom orders. “There’s still some press outside.”

“I don’t care,” Liam says, looking up and staring Mom down defiantly. “I don’t want to go with them. I’ll take the bus.”

“Bree, go wait in the car,” Dad tells me.

“Liam just wants to take the bus so he doesn’t have to be with me, right, Liam?” I say.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Mom says grimly. “He’s not taking the bus, and that’s final.”

Liam picks up his backpack and storms out to the garage to wait in the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Your brother got roughed up in the bathroom at school yesterday,” Dad says. His knuckles are white around the handle of his coffee cup. “Four guys against one.”

“Because of …”

“Yes, Breanna — because of the situation that you and your mother created for this family. Because the two of you didn’t think about how the repercussions of
your
actions would affect
all
of us.”

“Don’t start with that again —”

“Quiet, Mary Jo.”

My father doesn’t shout, but I almost wish he did, because his cold, precise anger is worse than my mother’s loud fire. I slump down in my seat.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“I know you’re sorry, Bree. But this is too big and it’s gone way too far for ‘I’m sorry’ to fix.”

Dad tells me this like it’s something I don’t already know.

But I do. When I begged him to stay home from school, he told me that actions have consequences and I have to learn to live with them. He doesn’t have to worry. I’m being taught a lesson again every single day.

Marci and Jenny aren’t waiting for me out front like they usually do, so I have to walk into school alone. There’s a bunch of football players and cheerleaders sitting on the wall by the front door.

Don’t let Ashley Trapasso be one of them.

I walk past, hoping they don’t notice me, but they do.

“It’s Bullying Bree,” Ashley calls out. “Who are you and Monster Mom planning to pick on next, Bree?”

Don’t look. Just keep walking
.

“They better not pick on anyone.” It’s Tomas Garcia, the quarterback of the football team. “Otherwise we’re going to come over and pick on them.”

Other voices saying, “Yeah,” “Too right,” and calling me and Mom curse words.

Don’t look. Just keep on walking.

Sticksandstoneswillbreakmybonesbutnameswillneverhurtme.

Why do they even teach us that stupid rhyme? It’s such a lie. Names
do
hurt.

I’m shaking by the time I get to my locker.

No one says,
Hi, Bree.

No one says,
What’s up, Bree?

No one asks,
Are you okay?

It’s like I’ve become the Invisible Girl — unless people want to say something bad.

I see Marci down the hallway and wave, but she turns away like she hasn’t seen me. Or maybe she has and she’s pretending she didn’t. Maybe the police finally went to her house and she’s mad at me for telling. The thought of Marci finding out makes me want to hurl.

I start to wonder if I am invisible. But as I walk to my first class and hear the names people call me, I’m reminded that people can see me all too well.

That’s when I start to wish I really were invisible.

At lunch, I see Marci and Jenny sitting at a table with Diane Taylor and Liza Sanchez. I go over to sit with them, but when I get to the table, Marci looks at me and says, “Sorry, Bree, there’s no room.”

She moves her chair to the side as if to emphasize the point.

“It’s okay, I can move over if you find a chair,” Jenny says.

Marci gives her a dirty look. But the look she gives me is even worse. That’s when I know without a doubt that the police went to her house. I realize this is the end. Marci’s decided the perks of being friends with the celebrity bully have lost their luster, and she’ll never forgive me for betraying her. She’s better off hating me like everyone else.

Even though she did it, too.

At least Marci didn’t make a scene. I just don’t think I can handle another person pointing out how awful I am. I turn away, trying not to cry in front of everyone in the middle of the cafeteria because that would be fatal. I walk with my lunch tray straight to the cafeteria door.

“You can’t leave with that,” says Mr. D’Anastasio, the teacher on lunch duty.

So I throw my lunch in the garbage, tray and all, and walk out of the cafeteria, ignoring Mr. D’Anastasio’s angry shout. Fighting the tears that threaten to cloud my vision, I head straight for the main office to call Mom to take me home.

Dad thinks I should have consequences. Well, I’ve got them. I hope he’s happy.

When Mom talks to the principal about what’s going on, he says there’s a zero-tolerance policy on bullying but then shrugs.

“Look, I understand your concerns, Mrs. Connors, and obviously this isn’t kind behavior, but it’s not bullying as defined under the law … and
under the circumstances
I can’t say this is entirely unexpected.”

“So what you’re saying is my daughter brought this on herself, is that what I’m hearing?” Mom says, her voice shaking with anger.

“No, Mrs. Connors, I’m just saying that given your daughter’s actions toward Lara Kelley, I’m not surprised that there is backlash from other students,” the principal says. “It doesn’t make it right, but that’s the way it is.”

“Well, if that’s your attitude, you better get my daughter transferred to another school, pronto, or you’re going to have a lawsuit on your hands,” Mom says. “Come on, Bree. I’m getting you out of this place.”

For the first time in my life, I’m glad that my mother is a Great White Shark Mom, because maybe it means I won’t have to come back to this school.

School isn’t the only problem. The death threats have kept on coming, even though we disconnected the landline and got an unlisted number. After Mom tells Dad about what happened at school, Dad makes Liam and me delete all our social media accounts — Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, you name it. It upset me a little, but I could understand why Dad was making me do it, and to be honest, I hadn’t been checking them much because I was afraid to see what people were writing. Liam, on the other hand … I’ve never seen him so mad.

“WHAT DID I DO?” he shouts. “
Nothing.
That’s what!”

The nasty look he gives me is worse than the kids at school. Because he’s my brother, part of my family. He’s supposed to love me. That’s what families do.

“This is all your fault, Bree. I hate you!”

I guess “supposed to” doesn’t matter when our family is falling to pieces, and I’m the one to blame for pushing us all off the cliff.

“Liam, we’re dealing with more than enough haters outside of these walls,” Dad says, his voice quiet but firm. “We don’t need them on the inside.”

“Too bad you didn’t tell
her
that,” Liam spits out, gesturing to me angrily with his thumb. “Or
Mom
. Before they started hating on Lara. Before they made her try to
kill herself
.”

I wrap my arms around my waist, as if they can offer a shield from his angry words. But nothing does. My brother’s disgust with me is like nuclear radiation; it seeps through all my feeble defenses.

“People make mistakes,” Dad says, sighing heavily. “You can’t hate your sister forever because she made one bad decision.”

“Try me,” Liam argues, his eyes cold and narrowed. “Not all mistakes end up with death threats and people leaving dog crap in our mailbox.”

“Okay, so I made the Biggest Mistake in the History of the Universe,” I say, feeling like I’m going to cry for the zillionth time since I heard those messages on my cell phone. “I’m
sorry
, all right?”

“
Are
you, Bree?
Really?
” Liam asks. “You didn’t seem that sorry when Lara tried to kill herself. It’s like you’re just sorry ’cause you got caught.”

Maybe it’s because he hurt me so badly when he said that. Maybe it’s because he fired an arrow, and it hit a bull’s-eye in a truly dark place. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I know in some small way he’s right. Maybe it’s because it hurts so much that my brother seems to hate me, and that just makes me want to hurt him back.