Every time I hang out with the boys after that day in the woods, I keep my distance from Patrick. Henry thinks I'm being stupid, says he tried to stop me.
Belch keeps apologizing discreetly as if he's done something wrong. I assure him he hasn't, but that didn't stop him from giving me a large bear hug. It was unexpected, but in the end quite nice. One of the most sincere things I've ever felt.
Victor sees that I'm uncomfortable and made a point to sit between Patrick and me from now on. The act, like most things he does, was unspoken, but I appreciated it.
Things at school are getting worse.
I hear more halted whispers, the kind you hear when you know someone was just talking about you. The smirks, the points.
Billy still hasn't spoken to me. I worry he might never again. We aren't the closest of friends, but the last thing I want on my conscience is knowing I betrayed some innocent kid. Beverly hasn't exchanged words with me yet, but she's back to her usual small smile or wave. I hope we talk again soon.
As much as I want my acquaintances' forgiveness, I can't leave Henry. The judgment can't change how I feel about him. How I hope he feels about me.
So despite feeling guilty, I still follow him into a janitor's closet during the second hour on Friday and kiss him until I forget my own name.
Laura?
Layla?
Yeah, it's definitely Layla.
I feel Henry's hand brush against my cheek and down until it stops at the small of my back. His other hand rests on my neck. His kisses are different than that day in the woods.
His movements are deliberate and loving. Nothing like the feverish gropes he gives when there's a chance his friends might spot us. He couldn't act like what we had was real in front of them. He hadn't said it, but I could tell he thought it would make him look weak.
But I couldn't say much. He wasn't the only one not being completely honest. Henry would often see me around the school and engage with me, perhaps a kiss on the neck from behind, a hand on my knee, or his favorite, slapping my rear when passing me. I'd always pretend to be annoyed or spare an eye roll or two to make it seem like it was just another one of Henry Bowers' unwanted advances.
Greta seemed to notice and is always ready with a whisper or judgemental smirk. Charlie can't help but mutter "slut" when I pass her or make snide comments about the undone buttons on my blouse at home.
The bell rings and I smile up at Henry, who lets out a deep sigh.
"Gotta go," I smile.
-
At home, I clean the kitchen from tonight's meal.
My dad said he was off to have a few drinks with Henry's dad so he'd be gone for a few hours. He, of course, left all emergency numbers and made sure we locked the doors.
After I finish, I walk to the living room where Charlie sits watching the news. The reporter explains that kindergartner Ben Parish has been missing since last Monday. The police have found no leads and don't think they will anytime soon.
I watch attentively as Charlie shoots me a look.
"Bowers?" She mutters.
I ignore her. She continues.
