Chapter XVIII: The Fight
A few days later, Mom invites Mr. Frost and Isaac over for dinner. It's a little awkward- Mr. Frost always looks like he's mean mugging you, and generally doesn't seem to enjoy conversation at all- but Josie is completely ecstatic, constantly talking to and listening to Isaac. He's only been here a few months, but for her he's practically the best thing since sliced bread.
"So, Sacramento?" Paul asks Isaac after wiping his mouth, "That sounds like a big change, coming from somewhere big like this all the way down to this small little suburb."
"It's not too bad," Isaac responds, twirling his fork around more noodles, "I didn't live in the city, so it wasn't that dramatic. I don't know, the high life was never really for me, you know? Plus, it's nice to be closer to family."
"Oh, absolutely. It gets so much better to not to worry as much for spending money on plane tickets and trying to figure out the schedule to visiting," Mom comments.
"Speaking of which, have you called your mother recently?" Mr. Frost questions as he completely mean mugs Isaac.
Isaac rolls his eyes, "Yes, Granddad. Just this morning. You were there."
"Well do it again as soon as we get home! Poor girl's all alone out there, it wouldn't hurt you to talk to her more!" He immediately orders, earning an eye roll from everyone. Yep, good old Mr. Frost. Josie giggles, completely bemused. I keep my head down, trying to focus on my food. School's been really trying me the last few days, and the waking up to thousands of death threats on voicemail hasn't done anything to soften my mood.
"What about you Gaelin? Anything exciting happen to you lately?" Isaac looks over at me, gently smiling. "Anything happening at school?"
Oh, only that I got shoved against the lockers about fifty times, got water dumped in my bag so now all my notebooks are completely ruined, and am now starting to think someone's trying to hack my phone on the fact that I received about forty texts that all redirected to porn sites. Just peachy.
I look at him before I shrug. "N-nothing much."
"Bet you're looking for spring break, right?"
I shrug again. Mom and Paul have talked about us going on a road trip, but I've been on the fence. It's been such a long time since I've ridden in a vehicle. Still, it would be nice to get away from all of this for a few days.
Josie suddenly perks up, darting her head straight at me. She loudly blurts, "Gaeley, you should show Isaac your dollies!"
I stare at her, my eyes wide. My fork is gripped so hard my fingers become an opaque white. The conversation all stops, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me. My jaw gets stiff.
"Dolls?" Isaac says slowly.
"Yeah, and he has these really cool puppets too!" Josie continues, not having the slightest clue of the can of worms she's just possibly opened, "He collects them, just like our daddy used to! He has a lot- they take all these shelves around his room, and they're really pretty, and Gaeley takes really good care of them-"
"Josephine," Mom chastisizes, trying to dispel the situation.
My face burns, and I stare at my plate like it's about to break in half.
"Still?" Mr. Frost questions, "I would've thought you got rid of those things, start doing something more suited to a boy your age!"
My fist clenches.
"Granddad, there's nothing wrong with collecting toys," Isaac scolds, "Sorry about that, Gaelin. It does sound interesting. I would like to see them some time, if you're comfortable with that."
I look up at him. I search for any sign of fakeness, but to my surprise, his eyes are nothing but sincere. It doesn't really help the awkwardness, though, so I just sink further into my seat, hoping someone switches the subject.
"Boy, sit up! Keep that up and you'll have a hunchback before you're thirty!" Mr. Frost barks at me. I bite my lip, having to keep myself from saying something that would insult both him and Isaac and make Mom slap me silly.
Paul quickly clears his throat and asks Mr. Frost of what he thinks of the presidential election, and luckily, everyone's attention is soon taken off of me. I still squirm in my seat, playing around with my food and wishing that I could excuse myself. But Paul was adamant that I be there for whatever reason for the whole time ("It's not polite to leave when we have company, Gael'"), so I have to spare my personal comfort and have to try and not look impatient when the clock doesn't go fast enough.
Wednesday starts off nowhere near to a good start.
First, I wake up to Mom shaking me, and learn that I seemingly forgot to set my alarm, so I have to leave the house without taking a shower or finishing up on redoing all the homework that was ruined like I planned; I end up tripping as I get down the porch and not only get my jeans and shirt dirty, but my knee hurts with every single step, so I get reduced to limping. The days are getting warmer, but it's still freezing in the morning and I forget to grab my thicker jacket, so I'm nearly a Popsicle by the time I get to the front doors. I'm almost late and don't have time to go to my locker, so I have to race to class, only to sit down and realize I forgot my book and my wallet.
Yeah, you could say mornings suck.
"Now, as we continue on reading, notice how Capote delves into a lot of detail on the personal backgrounds of Hickock and Smith. Many criticize this choice, as they claim that it feels as if he almost trying to glorify them, make them seem like victims of circumstances themselves," Mr. Petinsky lectures as he paces throughout the room, his copy of his book in his hands.
It's hard to hold my book with the cast, so I have to pin the right side under my elbow and hold the flap open with my left hand. I flip through the pages. The book is boring as all hell, so I've pretty much skimmed or skipped entirely on the assigned reading, going ahead to the interesting parts. It's crap, honestly. I could honestly give less of a damn if these two guys had horrible childhoods and whatnot, they still killed four people, still possibly raped and killed another girl.
They fucking deserve it. How this guy worked alongside Harper Lee I'll never understand. What is it with all these true crime writers trying to make you sympathize with criminals? Most of them knowingly broke the law and arrogantly thought they couldn't get caught.
Just like the other car's driver the night of the accident.
My hand subconsciously tightens my grip on the book. Don't go there, I tell myself, You'll only make yourself more upset. A block of pink suddenly catches my eye as a few pages flip, and I look down to see a piece of paper stuck between the pages. I flip to the passage. It's a sticky note, dark blue writing on it.
Guess the punishment meets the crime, doesn't it, Gael-gael?
I tear the sticky note off and scan the passage. It's all about the sentencing of the killers, how they were hanged as part of their sentence.
I grit my teeth. Someone probably got a hold of my book when I was using the bathroom one day or the other.
The note crumples in my hand. This is not turning out to be a good day. I go to second period and end up getting my ass kicked in dodge-ball- both from the opposing team, who've declared me their favorite target, and from my own teammates, who don't hesitate to shove me to the floor- along with earning a nice large bruise on my calf to go with the one forming on my knee.
I try not to let the other guys notice that I hear their whispering.
"You really think he did it? With THOSE gangly limbs?"
"Never underestimate the worms, bro. They're often the worst ones in the head."
Another note falls out as I grab my shirt- this time, it's on yellow construction paper, the writing in dark green, what looks to be gel pen.
Poisoning the mouse kills the owl
What the fuck does that even mean? I shove the note back in the locker, slamming it before I make a beeline for the gym doors, ignoring how everyone watches me leave.
I pass by a group of freshmen who are crowded near the lockers as I make my way to mine. They all huddle around each other, their baby faces and braces and badly dyed hair tips making them look more like sixth graders.
"Is that the guy responsible?" one whispers loudly.
"Yeah. His face looks better than from what I was told, though."
"Why isn't he in jail yet?"
Goddammit, I can't ever catch a break, can I? I whip my head over my shoulder, making it clear I can hear them. They squeak and dart their heads down, their voices much quieter. Probably think I'm going to sneak into their houses and cut their faces open during the night. Little fuckers. I head to my locker, and my mood immediately sours more when I see familiar words written on it.
KILLER
It's a different type of lipstick this time, though. This time, Sadie's gone out of her way to choose a dark red color, the letters painted over several times to make the coloring bold, the letters thick and solid.
I suppress a growl before I stomp into the bathroom to grab some paper towels, rubbing it off; it's heavily dried, and this time I actually groan in frustration as I put more force into it. It's still not coming off. I scratch at it with my nails, having to keep from outright screaming as only a few bits of it come off a little bit at a time. I finally use my sleeve and basically shove it against the door, though I only get more pissed off when I see how it stains my jacket. It's going to be hell to clean out, even though the words are finally erased off my locker.
"Morning, Gaelin!" Mr. Ramirez greets, "How are you doing today?"
I just give off a murmur, not looking at him as I waltz pass. I don't see Audrey anywhere, so I just take a seat near the end of the third row. I put my head in my arms and close my eyes. My head hurts.
"So I said, 'Well, it's not like I wasn't honest with you about it', and he just totally got on his knees and begged me to take him back," Sadie's voice chimes in from the front.
I glance up to find her walking in with two other girls beside her, all of them chatting away like they don't have a care in the world. That immediately changes, though, when she immediately looks in my direction and stops, staring at me. I stare back. The girls- one on either side- look at her, confused as to the sudden change in expression, before they follow her gaze; as soon as their eyes land on me, a look of understanding comes over them, and they share her distasteful sneer.
Sadie's eyes keep lingering. There's something in them, something that tells me she's going to try and start something.
But she doesn't. She just flips her hair and they make their way over to their seats on the opposite side of the room. I turn away, closing my eyes and trying to take deep breaths. Just take it easy, Gaelin. It'll all be over soon.
Ramirez shuts the door as the bell ring, and I feel someone's eyes on me. I look over to find Audrey sat a few chairs down. I just look at her.
Are you okay? She mouths.
No, I say back.
The lecture begins, and I get lost in the colors of the maps on the board. My phone buzzes- Audrey probably texting me, but I don't bother pulling it out. Ramirez goes on about something or other, but the feeling that I'm still being watched starts lingering over me. I look to Audrey. Her head's down, only lifting to read the words on the board before she copies them down. I look around the room.
Sadie's glaring at me.
It's not a nice expression- her eyebrows are furrowed, and I can see her grip her pen like it could snap in half at any moment. One of her friends murmurs something to her, but she doesn't take her eyes off of me, like she's trying to melt my head off or something.
It's irking. Seriously, am I a fucking zoo animal or something?
"-resulting in what many would come to know as a brutal lynching, where he was severely tortured before being burned alive. The story became infamous when it was discovered that not only did the townspeople take pieces of Jesse's corpse and bones and sell them as souvenirs, but that pictures of the murder were also made into postcards in Waco," Ramirez narrates, "Now, even for its time period, many across the US condemned the crime for its level of brutality."
He walks over to his desk before turning around and leaning against it, asking, "Now, could someone tell me why, why this was? Why, when lynching was still practiced and in fact supported by the public, why would this incident change that?"
Several hands go up. Sadie still's staring at me. I have to tear my gaze away- if I don't I swear I'm going to snap.
"Gaelin?"
My head looks up. Mr. Ramirez is looking at me, his eyes expectant. Of course, that then makes everyone else look at me, and my face heats up in embarrassment. I fiddle with my shirt hem, not knowing what to say.
"Gaelin?" he repeats, more of an edge, "What do you think?"
"It..." I stammer, trying to put together the words that will make my answer at least sound halfway decent, "I-i-it let people see that despite it's supposed progress, Waco still put up with hate crimes against the black community; i-it really opened people's eyes as to what was going on, made them see just what they were excusing in the so-called name of 'justice.'"
Mr. Ramirez nods, "So you're saying that this helped them change their minds?"
I shake my head, "Not necessarily, but it kinda made the US...well, it made them take off the rose glasses. The coverage forced people to see lynching for what it was- barbaric and savage, not excuse it as vigilante justice."
That earns a smile from Ramirez, and he nods his head in approval. "Very nice, Gaelin. I was starting to worry that I was losing your focus."
"Yeah, he'd know about barbaric and savage," someone hisses, causing a few snickers among the class.
My hand clenches on my desk. Ramirez waves his hand.
"Okay, all of you calm down. Now, next Thursday we're going to be having the class review for the test, so it's important that-...Yes, Sadie?"
My shoulders clench at the mere sound of her name, and I look over to see what she's doing. Sadie's no longer staring at me, looking at Ramirez with a calm expression as she raises her hand high in the air, the various charms on her bracelet reflecting the light. When he acknowledges her, she slowly lowers it, wiggling her shoulders and sitting up in her seat- the portrait of a simple, dainty school girl.
"I have to say, I disagree with the message," she explains as she bats her eyes in that way people do when they think they actually have a point (when they really don't).
Ramirez furrows his brows as he crosses his arms. "And what do you mean by that?"
Sadie folds her hands, "Well, I'm just saying, I don't think it's right to simply excuse the townspeople's actions as just blatant racism. They simply wanted justice for a poor woman's brutal death."
"You don't think them sentencing, torturing, and murdering a mentally disabled African American man who had absolutely no evidence to the crime and flaunting this to the rest of the world had nothing more to do with it than race?" Ramirez frowns, and I can see the disgust and shock on some of the other students' faces.
If she notices, Sadie doesn't let it show. She simply shrugs, "I mean, what they did was wrong and extreme, but they only had good intentions in mind. A poor woman was murdered, and they wanted justice for her. I'm sure anyone in their shoes would be willing to go the extent they did to get justice for people they loved."
Several scoff- is she for real?- and Ramirez rolls his eyes. "Well, Sadie, I'm sorry to tell you that any history book would tell you that there were a great number of innocents who died under the guise of-"
"Our justice system is nowhere near perfect, and sadly, there's also a good number of obviously guilty people who are allowed to roam free without a care in the world. Their family suffers in silence, but do the care? No. And a lot of the time, they go back and kill again and spread their grief even further. That'd be enough to drive anyone over the edge," she interrupts, rambling on. At her last words, she looks directly at me.
It earns several 'oohs' as people look between me and her, their eyes wide as dinner plates. Ramirez seems to notice this, and raises his hands.
"Sadie, that's enough-"
"People who kill innocents are the scum of the earth. They think they're in a position to decide who lives and dies, when in reality, the people who deserve to die are THEM," she continues, "And when this shit system doesn't do anything to stop them, it's only natural that the people fed up the with injustice take matters into their own hands. For them to let this scum know it's not going to be tolerated, and that they BETTER watch their backs."
She stands up, continuing to glare at me.
Before, that glare probably would've intimidated me, would've had me drowning in humiliation as Kailani and Holden joined in, taking pride in how riled up I've gotten.
Only Kailani and Holden aren't here anymore.
And instead of intimidation, all I feel is outright fury.
I'm fucking pissed.
"Don't. Push it, Sadie," I just say in a low voice, matching her with my own challenged glare.
The 'oohs' get louder, and this time people are turning in their seats. Probably surprised that little Gaelin stood up for himself, for once. Yeah, well getting the shit beat out of you and constantly getting labeled as things you're not in a sham of a witch hunt can do a lot to you.
"Sadie, sit down this instant," Ramirez starts forward, grabbing her arm.
She rips her arm away, storming towards me. She seems almost ignorant of where she is, storming towards me as she snarls.
"And what the fuck are you going to do about it, Killough? Everyone knows just what you did. Only a fucking freak like you would want to do something as horrible as to what you did to Kailani and the boys. We all know you're guilty, so why don't you fess up already?!"
She stands before me, her fists balled and her teeth showing like an angry lion.
"I'm not fessing up to shit," I snap, "I didn't do a goddamn thing to your fucking friends, Sadie."
"Oh, bullshit!" she spits, a hurricane brewing in those stormy grey eyes, "You're so full of shit! Kailani wasn't perfect, but she didn't fucking deserve to die! You just can't stand the fact that everyone else is happy and that you're nothing more than a little a freaky little shit who'd rather fucking play with fucking dolls! No, you have to tear everyone down around you!"
I scoff, shaking my head, "Look who's fucking talking."
"All of you, sit down," Ramirez commands as he gets between us.
"SHUT UP!" Sadie screams, "Shut the fuck up! You freak! You murderer! You, you, you creep!"
Before I even know what's happening, she slaps me across the face.
Her nails are long and I feel them dig into my face, stinging. I'm stunned, but before I can fully comprehend what she's done, Sadie pounces, knocking me out of my chair. She takes that as her chance to start wailing on me, punching me with thousands of punches that make me fall onto my back. I have to admit, the girl has a good right hook.
"GAELIN!" Audrey screams.
"Sadie, stop!" Mr. Ramirez yells as he runs over, trying to pull her off of me. Sadie refuses to let go, yanking on my shirt collar as she hits me in the head. I can dimly register that some are trying to help him, but the most of them get their phones out, some yelling 'Worldstar!' while they try and get as close as they can to the action.
Nothing registers for a moment. All I can feel is dim pain, and Sadie's feral expression.
Something akin to a damn bursts in my mind. The blacker part of my mind, the one I try to push away often, comes at me full force, the words I muttered only a few nights ago echoing.
She thinks you're a monster? Then, if a monster she wants, a monster she'll fucking get.
Audrey and a few others try to help Mr. Ramirez separate us, but at the moment, I don't care.
All I care about is seeing the little blonde bitch bleed.
Let her know what real pain is.
My body suddenly moves on its own- I don't even register what I'm doing at first as I get my feet between us, launching her off of me. Sadie staggers, and I jump to my feet, tripping over my own shoes as I try and get a balance. But before even of us seem to even grasp the gravity of the situation, I shoot up and swing my left hand, socking her everywhere and anywhere- her torso, her arm, her collarbone- before I land one final punch in the middle of her face.
She doubles over instantly, her hair covering her face as her hands shoot up to cover it.
The room goes silent.
Then it suddenly registers exactly what I've done.
I'm breathing hard, my fist still out in front of me. The others stare between us, and even Mr. Ramirez is at a loss for words. Audrey stares at me. I stare at her back. I feel like I'm disconnected from my body.
Sadie lifts her head, and my eyes widen- so does everyone else's, if the conjoined exclamation is anything to go by- when I see blood running from both her nose and her mouth. Her friends are instantly at her side, cradling her and trying to dab it as it starts to run down her chin.
Get the hell out of there, my brain tells me, Get out and don't look back.
I dart at the ground, grabbing my bag as I rush for the door, not caring how I bang my thighs against the desks, or how it makes my knee scream out in having to stress against already inflamed muscles.
"Gaelin!" Ramirez calls as I get out the doorway and race towards the exit, "Gaelin, you get the hell back here right this instant! GAELIN!"
Don't listen, don't listen. Get out of there.
I think I hear some of the boys trying to follow me, and that only makes liquid determination pump through my veins as I shoot my arms forward, ramming the doors open as I make a dash for the parking lot. Then the edge of the school. There's some shouting- I think it's the security guard- but I only push forward more, my arms bending to try and pump the adrenaline.
I get out onto the street and keep running.
Where? I don't know.
After what feels like a few miles, I finally run out of steam and have to sit down. My legs feel like jelly, and I can't take another step. My lungs are working overtime, my throat feels like it's burning as I struggle to gulp down hair. I stumble before finally plopping my ass down on the curb.
I feel gross. I've become all sweaty, and now my hair and face feel all oily, I can feel dampness under my arms, no doubt growing into pitstains.
I keep trying to catch my breath as I lift my head. Amazingly, I've all the way into town. The familiar signs of the bookstore and gym and little shops all present.
Suddenly catches my eye, and I look across the street to see where the frozen yogurt place used to be.
The door has blue and pink outlines all over it, an illustration of a smiling teddy bear and rag doll holding hands as they wave.
Hartwicke's Toys the sign reads in white curly cued letters. True to its name, I can see on the inside rows and rows of play items lining the shelves. I frown.
When did this place get here? I don't go in town as often as I used to- it's too far of a walk, but I don't really like being driven any place- so it probably got set up in the last few months. But it doesn't exactly look new, either.
My eyes wander the little display they have in the window, and my eye catches on the site of a beautiful doll, dressed to perfection in a white lace dress and bonnet, her honey blonde curls tightened to perfection, her painted on brown eyes and rosy cheeks a soft, serene expression.
Childish curiosity blooms in my chest, a nostalgic yearning to see what treasures lie inside urging me.
I shouldn't be here, though. I need to get home, get my story straight before Mom blows her top when she gets the call. Sadie started the fight, but school policy says I could be in trouble too for hitting her back- most likely even more for leaving the premises during hours. I should have gone to administration, show them evidence that I didn't instigate anything for anything. I need to call Paul, have him as my attorney or whatever if the little wretch wants to press charges, let them know who saw what to get on my side.
Oh, God, I'm in deep shit.
But I don't want to.
I'm so fucking tired of having to always having to sort things out by myself.
I bite my lip.
After a moment, I get up, and make my way inside.
