Not That Bad #Wattys2018

Chapter Thirty

She's still in her pajamas but she's wearing a pink hoodie over the top. The fluffy slippers on her feet tell me she rushed here. But I don't get it. Well, I do. She probably wants some closure.I mean we basically robbed her house. But how did she figure it was us?Maybe it was Eli's truck.Or maybe she came to threaten us and tell us that she already gave the police our information so we may as well turn ourselves in because it'll be a lot easier that way.

"What do you want?" Chase says, "And how did you find us?"

Imogen points behind her with one hand. The other hand is behind her back. I can't help but wonder if she's holding a gun. I shake my head. She wouldn't. "First of all I saw Eli's truck." she says.

"I knew it." I say and shove Eli's shoulder. He sticks out his tongue at me, then smiles sheepishly. I smile back.

"And second," Imogen continues, "When I drove by here I saw that the police tape was removed. And it has been there for years."

"OK." says Chase. "But why are you here now?" He won't be easy on her. My Chasey.

"Um." Imogen bows her head, "I brought a peace offering." She holds up a bottle of Gin in her other hand.

"A peace offering?" Skylar sounds skeptical.

"Yeah. For Rori."

Everyone looks at me. A peace offering? 

Imogen humiliated me in front of the whole school. She showed everyone parts of me that they shouldn't have seen. And now she brings a peace offering? A damn peace offering is supposed to make everything better?

But then there's everything about being the bigger person. Being the better person. Whatever. Why did I have to do it? I take a deep breath. Four pairs of eyes look at me expectantly. This is hard.

"Well." I say, "Did you bring cups?"

***

We're drunk. Unbelievably so. Laughing loudly at things that aren't funny. Laughing together like no hatred and vengeance hangs in the air.

"Hey." Chase says, "You know I always thought Mr Terv was a lonely grump..."

"He isn't?" Skylar asks, giggling.

"Nope." Chase says, "I saw him at the mall once with his family. And he was wearing shorts!"

"No way." Eli says.

"Yup. His legs are really hairy." We laugh, loud and obnoxious, and it's not even funny, but then Imogen make this strange noise in her throat.

She's sobbing. Like, a lot. Runny nose and everything. "This is not an excuse or anything," she blurts, "but my parents are just so in love, with each other, that they literally, literally ignore me. I just have to bring home a trophy, I have to bring something to get them to notice me." Her voice is soft, "Tonight they're out at this fancy restaurant and I'm just here. Alone."

I don't say anything. It's so strange. I still don't trust Imogen, but that's kind of sad. Imogen sniffles. "I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry, Rori. For literally everything. I'm so so, sorry." She squeezes my hand, "I'm sorry."

I pull it away. "Stop saying sorry." I say.

Imogen bows her head, "Sorry." Silence.

"I guess I should say sorry too." I say. More silence. I twirl the loose strands that have fallen from my bob after all that running. Eli examines his fist. I wonder if it's awkward for him. To be here with me while Imogen is crying about being alone. Skylar draws shapes on Chase's chest.

Then Imogen clears her throat, "You can have the trophy. It's yours. I never felt proud of it knowing how I got it in the first place."

"I don't want it." I say after a while. I mean, what's the point of it now? "But I have an idea." Imogen nods at me. I set the trophy at the edge of the deck and walk away from it. I put my hands in the air to get everyone's attention, but I've got it already.

"Guys." I say, "This is why I didn't play soccer." I pull up my white socks. "I'm just too good." Chase gives me a look that says, Yeah. Sure. But he laughs along with everyone else.

OK.

I run towards the trophy and kick it into the air. It's like slow motion, spinning and spinning and spinning mid air, looking like a gold and blue blur. Then it falls into the lake. I can't see it, but I can imagine it sinking to the bottom, not to be forgotten, but putting a long over due end to a feud between two girls.