Chapter 38 Astrid
ASTRID
“That fucking, spiteful, jealous bitch!” Gwen paces my room, spewing venom and looking like she’s ready to commit murder. “I’m going to kill her!”
“Not if I get there first,” Callan grits out, continuing to run his hand up and down my back.
I’ve been depressed ever since the discovery in the parking lot, and even more so after we got a call from the principal to say the cameras had been checked, but whoever did this must’ve known the cameras would be down for thirty minutes for maintenance because the vandalism happened during that time.
“We don’t have any proof it’s Ana.” I reiterate what Principal Cowles said when we told her she’s the only one with an obvious grudge against me. “And it’s not like she’s going to fess up to it when she’s hauled into the office in the morning.”
Apparently, they can’t accuse her of a crime without evidence, but they can talk to her and ask her if she knows anything about it.
I had to report it to the cops so I can make an insurance claim for the repairs, and Sheriff Longwood said they’ll be conducting their own investigation, but I doubt they’ll go to too much trouble over a high school student’s secondhand car.
“She can’t get away with this.” Gwen’s mouth purses as she wears a path in my floor. “It’s not right. This is going to hit you in the pocket, and you did nothing wrong.”
“I’m glad your dad took out comprehensive insurance,” Callan says, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You would’ve had to pay for all the repairs if you only had basic car insurance.”
“My deductible is one thousand dollars. I’ll still have to pay that.” I can’t ask my parents to cough it up when it’s one week before Christmas, and they’ve got my college fees looming.
Callan’s parents deposited eight hundred dollars in my checking account a few weeks ago, insisting I take it for the work I did on their house.
I had put half into my savings account and used the other half to buy Callan’s Christmas gifts, so I’ll have to pay for this out of my savings, which I hate.
I’ve been saving for the past three years for college, and it’ll kill me to withdraw such a large sum, but I guess I have no choice.
“I can contribute,” Callan says at the same time Gwen says, “I wish I could help, but money is tight.”
“I’m not taking money from you,” I say to Callan. “You’ll need it for college.” I swing my gaze to Gwen. “And I know you don’t have money to spare, so I don’t expect anything. I have the money saved. I just hate using it for this.”
“Maybe we could do one of those fundraising pages,” Callan suggests, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “I bet everyone at school would help.”
“Absolutely not. It’s Christmas, and people have their own worries and expenses. I’ll have to suck it up.”
“Ana better hope I don’t see her face today, or she’ll be sorry,” Callan says as he helps me out of his truck the next morning at school.
“Don’t start anything with her,” I warn him, holding on to his elbow so I don’t fall on the snow.
As I predicted, we had a couple of inches of snowfall last night.
Guess it’s lucky I didn’t end up making it to Burly after all.
Mom has promised to drive me over there in the morning now her pottery studio is closed until January.
“The last thing you need is to get written up. I don’t want you doing anything that might jeopardize your scholarship.
” I tug him to a stop when we reach the bottom steps. “Promise me.”
“Don’t ask that of me.” He grips my hips through my coat. “She did this to hurt and embarrass you, and I need to protect you from anything else she might do.”
“She wouldn’t dare. There’s a spotlight on her head now, so she’ll back down.”
“Until that spotlight dies out, and she’ll use the time to plot her next move.” He pulls me into a hug. “I know she’s doing this ’cause of me, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing to encourage her. Honestly, I think she’s a fucking psycho, and that’s even more reason for you to stay away from her. She’s probably hoping to get a reaction out of you, and ignoring her will drive her crazy.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Callan takes my hand and leads me into the school. “I’ll try to ignore her, but if she starts on you, I won’t hold back.”
“You did this!” A familiar screech accosts my eardrums as we make our way down the hallway.
A large crowd is gathered around Gwen and Ana as they face off in front of Ana’s locker.
“Oh no.” I take off racing with Callan by my side. Gwen is lucky she got a scholarship to Bennington Turo, and like Callan, I don’t want her risking it for me.
“Open it!” Gwen roars. “Open your fucking locker, Ana.”
“What is going on here?” Principal Cowles asks, stalking through the crowd to confront the two girls.
“Ana has red paint in her locker, Principal Cowles,” Gwen says. “I saw it when she opened it.”
“Liar!” Ana snaps.
“Of course, you’d say that.” Gwen plants her hands on her hips. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, just open it.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—”
“Ms. Montgomery.” The principal cuts across whatever Ana was going to say. “Open your locker now, please.”
“You can’t make me.” Ana folds her arms and pouts.
“This is school property, and I assure you I can. Now open your locker, or I’ll call Mr. Gardner to open it.”
Ana glowers at Gwen before opening her locker. Shocked gasps surround us, and blood rushes to my head as Callan pulls me in closer. A can of red paint and a used brush sit in the middle of her locker, but it’s the pictures plastered all over the walls that have drawn everyone’s attention.
They’re all of me. All taken without my knowledge. Some at school. Some clearly taken from outside my house. Others show me coming to and from work. A large red X is slashed across most every pic. Soccer slut and whore are written across others.
A chill creeps up my spine as I gulp over the lump in my throat. Mean girl stuff is something I can handle, but stalking is on a whole different level. A shudder works through my body, and I cling to Callan, chilled to the bone and more than a little frightened.
“I’ve never seen those before!” Ana’s eyes widen as she gestures wildly with her hands and pins pleading eyes on the principal. “I swear, Principal Cowles. Those are not mine. This is a setup. I didn’t do this.” Her gaze finds mine. “I swear to you, Astrid. This isn’t me.”
“You would say that.” Gwen sneers. “I suppose it was Callan or me stalking her and not you, right? You can go to prison for that. I hope they lock you up and throw away the key.”
“It was you!” Ana screams as school security approaches the principal.
“Astrid is my best friend, you nutjob.” Gwen scoffs and shakes her head.
“In case any of you are buying this psycho’s bullshit,” Scott says in a loud voice, putting his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and skimming his gaze across the crowd, “Gwen was with me during last class and after. It couldn’t have been her.”
“That is enough,” the principal says. “Escort Ms. Montgomery to my office, please, while I call the sheriff and her parents.” She whips out her cell phone. “The rest of you, get to class,” she barks, and the crowd immediately disperses.
Gwen grabs my hand as we walk off. “Can you believe that bitch?”
“She really hates me,” I say in a quiet voice, shaken to my core. “She was watching me, and that’s creeping me out.”
“She’s got serious mental problems.” Callan slides a protective arm around me. “But she’s been caught now, and it ends here.”
“You’re my hero, babe,” Scott says to Gwen before grabbing her face and kissing her. “If it wasn’t for you, she might’ve gotten away with it.” He looks at her like she’s his entire world. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” Gwen circles her arms around his waist and rests her cheek on his chest. She eyeballs me.
“Last night, after I left your house, I figured out how she knew the cameras would be down at that exact moment.” She pauses for a beat.
“Her mom is on the school board, and they organize the maintenance.”
“I hope she gets kicked off it,” Callan says.
“I owe you one, Gwen. Thank you.”
“Told you I have your back, and I meant it.” She stretches out a clenched fist, and I press my knuckles to hers. “Besties forever.”
When I get home from school later, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery are in the living room with my parents. “Sweetheart, Ana’s parents would like to talk to you,” Dad explains.
Callan and I trade looks as we dump our bags in the hall and walk into the living room. Mom nods at me as I claim the empty tub chair. Callan rests his butt on the arm of the chair, staying close to me, and I’m grateful for his support.
“We’re very sorry, Astrid,” Ana’s mom says, peering at me through red-rimmed eyes. “We’re in total shock that Ana would do something like this, and I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
“It’s shaken me a lot,” I truthfully admit. “I didn’t realize she hated me this much.”
“Ana is very troubled,” her dad says. “Not that it excuses it.”
Mrs. Montgomery dabs at her eyes. “This isn’t common knowledge, but Ana was sexually assaulted when she was ten by her aunt’s boyfriend.
We only found out after my sister broke it off with Ken, and Ana blurted it out.
She’s been in therapy on and off for years, but the trauma is deep-rooted, and she struggles with her mental health.
She’s been spiraling recently, ever since things ended between her and Travis, but we didn’t realize it had gotten this bad. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t explain why she was fixating on me.”
“I know, and I wish I could answer that for you, but she had a complete breakdown this morning, and we’ve had no choice but to admit her to the psychiatric hospital in Brattleboro.”
I nod because I don’t know what else to say. I had no idea Ana was so troubled, and though I dislike her, I can’t help feeling sorry for her. No kid should have to go through that.
“We wanted to try and explain it and to tell you we will cover the full cost of the car repairs,” Mr. Montgomery says.
Ana’s mom knots her hands on her lap as Callan places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I know we have no right to ask anything of you, Astrid, but we love our daughter, and we don’t want her to have a criminal record because she’s sick, and if she wasn’t, she would never have done this.”
I don’t think any of us can know that for sure, but I keep my lips sealed.
“Could you please consider not pressing charges against her? We would forever be in your debt if you did this for Ana,” she adds.
“This is emotional blackmail,” Callan says, sitting up straighter. “And it’s not fair.”
“I felt the same way when Georgina mentioned it a little while ago,” Mom says. “But then I thought, what if it was one of my daughters? Wouldn’t I do the same for them? And the truth is, I would.”
“But this is not our decision to make, Astrid,” Dad says. “It is your choice, and we will support you whatever you decide.”
Callan bends down and whispers, “You don’t have to decide now.”
I lean into his side as I think it over.
I don’t want this hanging over me all through the holidays, putting a dampener on our celebrations.
My gut tells me what to do, and I don’t need any other time to ponder it.
“I won’t press charges.” I sit up straight and eyeball Ana’s parents.
“But I will be taking out a restraining order so she can’t stalk me or come anywhere near me, and if anything like this happens again, I won’t hesitate to press charges next time. ”
“Thank you, Astrid. Thank you so much.” Silent tears roll down Mrs. Montgomery’s face, and relief is visible on her husband’s face.
“We are truly sorry for all the trouble this has caused you,” Mr. Montgomery says.
I nod and offer him a tight smile before I get up. Callan climbs to his feet, too, resting his hand on my lower back. “I hope Ana gets the help she needs.”
My parents show the Montgomerys out, and I slump against Callan, mentally drained from the past twenty-four hours. “And you thought moving to a small town in Vermont would be boring,” I say, looking up at him. “There’s more drama in Ryemont than a K-drama on steroids.”