Chapter 22
When we’re running drills in the gym, I sense Cammy’s mood hardening.
I want to avoid her like the plague, but being further away from her is more dangerous.
I follow behind her, hoping to stay out of her thoughts.
When Rochelle passes her a basketball, it glides over the top of Cammy’s hand, pulling back one of her acrylic fingernails.
“Ouch! You cow!” Cammy screams, clutching her fingers.
Rochelle’s hands press against her face as she rambles her apologies.
Cammy continues to curse as she squeezes her fingers. Her jaw strains and her face reddens by the second. Gingerly, I place a hand on her back, careful not to step into her line-of-sight.
“It’s okay,” I coo. “It’ll be okay.”
She shoves me off, seething. “Don’t touch me!”
I back away, hands raised.
“Camila, settle down,” Coach Oliver orders, marching toward her.
I brace myself. That’s the worst thing Coach Oliver could’ve said.
Camila fires on all cylinders. “Calm down?”
Coach points at me. “Take her to the nurse’s office.”
Me? Did she not witness Cammy yelling at me?
Cammy groans. “Stop gawking, Tab. Why don’t you actually help me instead?”
I shake it off and gesture at the exit. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Once we’re in the hallway, the air feels thicker. Yep, definitely a bad vibe.
“You probably love this,” Cammy says, sniffing as her eyes water. “Any excuse to get out of the gym.”
“It’s a bonus, but I don’t want it at your expense.”
She huffs. “Don’t brown-nose me.”
I squeak. “I’m not.”
“All you do is use me.”
I stiffen in outrage. “How do I?”
She sniffs again, her grip tightening against her bleeding finger. “You just want me to do everything for you.”
“Like what?” I’d comment on how bad her fingernail situation looks, but I’m too pissed off.
“You follow me around, hoping I’ll make your life better.”
My pulse is racing. I can’t hear anything except for its thumping beat. “How do you make my life better?”
“Admit it. You’d be nothing without me.”
“You don't have a license to say these things just because you got dumped right after your dad abandoned you.”
At that, Camila gasps and stops in place. Like an idiot, I stop beside her, just in time for her to slap me across the face.
White-hot pain lightning bolts through my cheek, across my teeth, and into my skull. I can barely see straight as I stumble to keep upright. I can tell Cammy’s saying something, but there’s a ringing in my ears. When I cup the tender spot and blink a few times, I watch Cammy walk off.
What the hell just happened?
I take my hand off my cheek and gasp at the blood on my hand.
Did she make me bleed?
Horrified, I dash up the hallway toward the nurse’s office. I push past Cammy on the way in and find Mrs. Whiteborne sitting at her desk.
“Am I bleeding?” I blurt, panting and sweating.
Mrs. Whiteborne stands. “Let me take a look at you.”
Cammy enters behind me. “Umm, excuse me. I’m the one sent here by Coach Oliver.”
“I can look after both of you,” Mrs. Whiteborne says. “Tabitha, sit over on this bed. Camila, take the one over there.”
We move to our respective beds, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of my eye, I see Cammy frown and cross her arms, just like I am.
Mrs. Whiteborne runs a damp cloth over the side of my face and I catch her smiling. “You don’t have a cut, Tabitha. I don’t know where the blood came from.”
“Over here,” Cammy says, waving her bloodied finger. “I’m the one bleeding.”
Mrs. Whiteborne’s head pivots between us. “What exactly happened here?”
“A stupid girl doesn’t know how to throw a basketball,” Cammy replies. “Can I get a bandage or something? Ugh, and a new manicure appointment?”
Mrs. Whiteborne takes an ice-pack from the refrigerator and hands it to me. “Place this against the side of your face. There’s a doozy of a red mark coming up.”
I press the iciness against my skin. “Thanks.”
Mrs. Whiteborne moves over to inspect Cammy’s broken and bloodied fingernail. “So, this happened during phys-ed?”
“Yes. Can you please tell Coach Oliver I’m excused for the rest of the semester?”
Mrs. Whiteborne laughs to herself. “I don’t think that’ll be happening. So, Tabitha, is your injury PE related as well?”
Even though Mrs. Whiteborne is blocking her view, I feel those burning holes coming from Cammy’s stare. “Umm, yeah,” I stammer. “Cammy got hit in the hand by a basketball, and it then hit me in the face.”
“Ouch. That sounds nasty,” Mrs. Whiteborne comments. “Perhaps these girls need to listen more closely when instructed on how to pass a ball.”
“You’re so right,” Cammy says, and I brace myself. “Some girls really need to learn their place.”
I don’t know why I let Cammy get to me. Maybe it’s because I now have Kai in my life, and he listens to what I say. Cammy doesn’t listen. She lies and berates. I hit my limit, and I said the worst thing. How did I not learn after the popcorn incident?
Don’t bring up her dad.
Especially, don’t bring up her dad and Clint in the same sentence.
I had the slap coming.
I press the ice-pack closer to my skin.
No, I didn’t deserve to be slapped.
I shouldn’t take this anymore.
I watch Mrs. Whiteborne tend to Cammy. I should say something. I should tell the truth. I should file an incident report on Cammy. Get her suspended. Get her out of my life.
Once Cammy is fitted with a bandage and her own ice-pack, Mrs. Whiteborne tells us to return to the gym with a note that excuses us to watch from the sidelines.
When Mrs. Whiteborne asks me if I need anything else, I freeze. I can’t do it. I can’t confess what Cammy did.
“No, ma’am,” I whisper, and leave the nurse’s office behind Cammy.
Cammy grunts. “What a surprise. You’re following right behind me again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Always following. My little pet sheep.”
“Are you really going there?” I raise my voice. “After what you just did to me?”
She whips around. “And what did I just do to you?”
I gulp at the fury in her eyes. “You… Uh… The…”
She scowls, turning back around. “That’s what I thought.”
“You…” I stammer. “You know what you did.”
She stops in place. The tension in her shoulders creases the back of her gym T-shirt.
“Are you happy you did it?” I persist.
“No,” she says flatly. “I’m not happy about how you cruelly attacked me and I was forced to defend myself.”
My jaw hangs open, and my gasp takes away any energy left to question her.
Cammy turns around, tears streaming down her face. “Look at how Coach Oliver will see me. What am I supposed to tell her? That my best friend went crazy?”
“I… I… What are you saying?”
She sniffs hard, wrapping the ice-pack around her fingers. “I can’t believe how much you hurt me, Tabitha.”
At that, she walks toward the gym and I’m too paralyzed to move. Is she really going to tell Coach Oliver I attacked her? After I just let her off the hook with the school nurse?
I stumble backwards in hopes of a locker to prop me up. I keep trudging until I’m in an alcove. I shudder a breath and drop to my knees. As I cradle the ice-pack against my cheek, tears cascade down my face. Ugly, guttural sobs rumble out of me as I sit in the darkened corner.
With zero energy to move after crying until my stomach hurts, I stay in this hidden corner until the bell rings.
The hallway floods with roaming students.
I’m supposed to be going to lunch right now.
Just the thought of food makes me wanna hurl.
Besides, I’m in no state to be seen by the general public.
Outside the alcove, I hear Freddy’s distinct voice. Every muscle inside me cramps. Please, don’t find me. Please, don’t find me. He’d never leave me alone if he saw me crying at school.
Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m freaking crying at school! I’m thankful when Freddy’s voice leaves my immediate area, and when the sounds in the hallway drop to a minimum, sadness and isolation take over my being.
I wallow in the emptiness for who knows how long until I hear, “Tabitha?”
My ears prick and I sit taller. “Kai?”
I hear a skid across the floor and then Kai pokes his head into the alcove. “Whoa. What are you doing in here?”
I lower the ice-pack and wipe my weeping eyes. “Oh, you know. Just living my best life.”
He enters the alcove and crouches in front of me. “I heard something went down between you and Camila.”
My breath hitches in my scratched throat. “What did you hear?”
He shrugs. “Something about you two leaving together, but only Camila came back. Geez, you’re still in your gym clothes. How long have you been sitting here?”
A shrug is all I can answer with.
“Jamie said she had one of the best phys-ed lessons, and one of the eeriest at the same time. She said Camila was actually quiet, if you can believe it.”
I squirm with jitteriness. “Camila didn’t say I hurt her?”
He flinches. “Did you?”
I lift the ice-pack. “She slapped me across the face.”
His face draws with concern. His fingertips press against my chin and he gently turns my face. “Let me see.”
“Do you see a hand mark?” I try to joke, but it comes out weak.
“It doesn’t look too bad. You must have gotten ice fast.” He releases my chin. “Why did she slap you? I know, dumb question. But what happened?”
“I pushed her buttons. Remember I told you, I should never bring up her dad.”
“It doesn’t give her the right to hurt you.”
I nod. “I know.”
“You need to get away from her.”
My eyes tear up again. “I can’t.”
“You can. I told you,” he says firmly. “I’ll protect you, if you want it.”
I follow the swirl of green in his hazel eyes, and a weight lifts off my chest. With a sigh, I fling myself forward and hug my arms around his shoulders. “I want that,” I whisper against the nape of his neck. “I want to be safe with you.”
His hands are strong as they rub calming circles on my back. I rest my chin on his shoulder and sigh out with mild relief. One of his hands smooths over my curls, and he whispers, “Are you okay?”
I suck in a breath and feel my nose get stuffy. “Yeah,” I murmur, wiping my eyes and pulling out of the hug. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay,” he coos, stroking my left cheek. “I didn’t hate it.”
I let out an airy laugh, and he brightens with a cheesy grin.
I dab underneath my eyes, and ask, “Won’t your friends be wondering where you are?”
“They’ll survive one lunch break without me.”
My heart flutters. “So I can keep you with me until the bell rings?”
He sits on the vinyl floor beside me. “I’m all yours.”