The hallways on Monday were deadly silent. Usually the halls of our school are noisy with kids yelling, people talking, doors slamming, and the occasional kid being punched into the lockers. Today, there was nothing but hushed whispers.
I walked in my first period math class and slid quietly into my seat across from Christina. I'm in her class, even though she's a senior and I'm a junior, because I'm in the advanced math classes.
People were looking at us, and I realized that a lot of kids probably thought we were responsible for that girls death. I have some Columbus kids in my class, and they were looking at Christina and I with a contempt, violent stare.
It's times like these that I wish all of us had classes together. But we're all in different grades, except Alex and Lacie. They're both sophomores. Gemma was probably in freshmen study hall across the building, which is her first period class. I hope she's holding up alright. Alex and Lacie were probably hungover, or late, or still passed out in their rooms at home, or a combination of the three.
Sitting through my classes that day was excruciating. I couldn't focus on trigonometry or Edgar Allen Poe essays. I'm generally good at school and I try to pay attention, because getting good grades is in my nature, but today I sat, staring at the clock, counting the minutes to lunch. When the bell rang at the end AP English, I walked quickly to the lunch room, trying to ignore the stares in the hallways.
I made my way to our cafeteria table by the west windows and slid onto the bench next to Lacie. Gemma, Christina, and Alex sat across from us. We didn't say anything much, but sitting with them, in a group, is better than being alone. I was still aware of the stares, though. And the malicious whispers of kids who thought we were capable of murder.
****
Gemma and I were attacked on the way home from school. It was swift and unexpected, and we were pulled behind the grocery store by three tall, mean looking girls. It was quick and painful. One of the girls took down Gemma because shes smaller and the other two got me.
I was aware only of a hand pressed over my mouth and a few sharp punches to my stomach. I tried to scream and bite at her hand. I have vivid memories of the time when I was twelve and eight Columbus boys got me in a back alley and beat me. I was terrified of Columbus kids.
The tall, blonde girl gave me one last kick in the side before leaning down and putting her face next to mine, hissing angrily, "That's for killing one of us. I ought to kill you, because I know it was your friends, but you don't look like the murderer type." She laughed like I was weak. I wanted to open my mouth and say that none of us were the murderer type. But I was shaking too much. I waited for them to turn the corner and walk away before crawling across the ground to Gemma, who was sitting leaning against the wall by some trash cans.
"You okay?" I asked, shaking her. Her eyes were squinting in pain.
"Yeah." She whispered. She had a nasty looking cut under one eye that didn't look right on her delicate, childlike face. I wished for Christina, who would know what to do and help us get home. Or for Alex, who would go after those girls with her rings and threaten them. Or Lacie, who would convince me it was okay and walk me home. Instead I crawled next to Gemma and pulled her close and we sat next to the garbage cans until we felt like it was safe enough to get up and go home.
****
We ran into Lacie on the way home. She was sitting on the hood of what I recognized as Liam's car out in front of the diner. Liam was Lacie's boyfriend. He was tall and slim but muscular with short brown hair and brown eyes. He leaned against the hood and she sat on top, legs crossed at the ankles in her denim shorts, obviously flirting as she flipped her thick dark hair over one tanned shoulder. She was giggling, but stopped abruptly when she caught sight if us and saw that I was limping and Gemma was cut up. She jumped off the car hood and ran over, grabbing me.
"What happened?" She exclaimed, eyes glancing over our cuts and bruises.
"We got jumped by some Columbus girls." Gemma said. Her voice was high pitched.
"Oh, god." Lacie shook her head. "Come in here with me." We followed her inside the diner, along with Liam, aware of the looks we were getting from people.
"Alex! Elle and Gem got jumped." Lacie said. Alex, who was working behind the counter, turned around. Her face darkened as she took in our injuries. "Shit," she murmured under her breathe.
"Hold on. I'll get you some water." She rushed over to the soda machine and slammed a cup under the water dispenser, filling it halfway, and grabbing a towel from the rack. "Gemma, you're bleeding." She dipped the towel into the water and dabbed at Gemma's face. Gemma winced.
"Sit down. People are staring." Alex said quietly. "Gem, have Lacie take you to the bathroom and get cleaned up." They walked off in the direction of the back bathroom and Alex turned to me, wiping her hands on her diner apron. "Elle. What happened? Are you hurt?"
I slid onto one of the bar stools. "Yeah." We leaned our heads together quietly. "We were walking by the grocery store and some girls came out and took us down. I'm not cut up. I'm sore, though....punching and kicking, you know? I guess the other girl had some jewelry or something on, because Gem got that cut..."
"Yeah." Alex smiled wryly. "Why do you think I wear my rings?" Her face grew stony again. "How old do you think the girls were?"
I thought back to their height. "Probably eighteen or nineteen. Older than Christina."
"God. I wish they wouldn't send adults to beat up kids." She shook her head angrily. "Not you. But Gemma's fourteen and looks even younger."
I nodded. Gemma and Lacie walked back to the booth.
"I'm taking them back to my place. Liam is going to drive us." Lacie said discreetly to Alex. "People are looking, you know? We'll be back there. You can come crash there after your shift, and I'm calling Christina, too." She lead Gemma and I through the front door and to the car. I sat in the back seat with Lacie, and Gemma sat in the front with Liam. We pulled out of the diner parking lot and down the road. I felt safe in the car. Nobody attacks you when you're in a car with a boy like Liam. I like Liam well enough. He looks like a cute, lovable funny guy, but he's tough. Most boys around here are tough. A lot of girls are, too, actually. Just look at Lacie and Alex.
The four of us went up to Lacies apartment. Her parents were at work and we had the place to ourselves. I sat on the couch, icing my ribs where I figured the worst bruises would be, and Gemma was in the kitchen wiping at her cut.
"Here. Apply gentle pressure." Lacie said, pressing the compress into Gemma's cheek.
"Ow!" She yelped, and muttered a string of curses.
"God, Gem. I didn't know you could talk like that." Liam remarked.
"I can, thanks." She snapped. "I'm not a kid anymore."
"We don't think you're a kid." I said, walking over and patting her shoulder. "You're one of us and you always have been."
The thing was, though, is that I wished she was still a kid. I wished I was still a kid, too, for that matter. Kids don't have to worry about getting jumped or being accused of shooting a girl or making sure their friends don't end up in jail.
