"I'm..."
He starts walking away before I can get my words out. What is his problem?
I stomp after him and am about to yell at him to stop when someone else does it for me.
I grimace as Trent approaches with long, angry strides.
"What the hell have you been saying about me?"
Dale steps away from the juggernaut and puts his hands in his pockets.
"Why are you still looking for Nicole?"
"Because he's not a moron like you," I fire at my EX-boyfriend.
Trent steps forward, leaning down to get in Dale's face.
"You think I did something to her? You think I hurt her or something?"
He shoves Dale, causing him to stumble back.
"Tell him to get lost, Dale."
"I didn't touch her, man." Trent's aggression is pulsing out of him. "She got out of my car. I asked her to get back in, but she wouldn't. None of this is my fault."
"Bullshit, you little turd. If you'd just taken two seconds to listen and control yourself none of this would have happened," I yell.
"I didn't do anything wrong."
Dale gives him a stone cold glare that says otherwise.
Before I know what's happening, Trent bunches his fingers into a fist and hits Dale square in the face. Dale tumbles backwards.
"You asshole!" I push Trent away from Dale, but my hands go straight through him. He doesn't even flinch. Instead he bends over Dale's fallen form and points a finger at him.
"Leave it alone, Scarface. She's gone and no one gives a shit."
I drop to my knees beside Dale as Trent stalks away.
"Are you okay?" I try to move his hands so I can see his face.
"Don't touch me." He rolls away from me and takes his time sitting up.
Blood is streaming from his nose and running into his mouth.
"Why didn't you say anything? How could you let him do that to you?"
"It's not like I had much choice." Dale stands up and flicks the blood from his nose with his finger.
Gross.
"Besides you mouthing off every two seconds was hardly helpful."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you weren't exactly doing much to stand up for yourself."
"Maybe if I'd had a second to think, I could have!"
Rummaging in his bag, he pulls out his PE shirt and uses it wipe up the blood.
"It's not my fault you're a slow thinker."
Dale chucks the stained shirt back in his bag and stands up straight. His nose is throbbing red and he still has a smear of blood under his chin.
I point to it. "You've still got-"
"I don't have to be doing this, you know. If I walk away, you've got no one."
I step back from his abrupt statement. Why is he saying this to me? Why is he becoming like everybody else?
Tears sting my eyes as my voice rises.
"I'm a very popular person."
"Who no one gives a shit about! You just heard him say it."
Dale points to where Trent was standing.
"Do you honestly think if anyone else could hear you, they would take time to listen? I'm the only person at this school willing to do anything."
"That is SO not true!"
"Isn't it?"
I don't know what to say.
"You know why people don't like you? Because you act like a bitch. You say awful things and you treat people like crap. That's why no one's mourning you."
"Why are you saying this to me?" I swallow. "I said sorry about the Scarface thing."
"It's not about Scarface. It's about your attitude towards everything. It's about you suspecting one of the only friends I have at this school." He points to his nose. "It's about being punched in the face by your asshole boyfriend who thinks he can treat you like a sex slave and get away with it."
Dale's breathing like a bull ready to charge.
I cross my arms and can't help joining him. My breaths begin to spurt through my nostrils as I shake my head.
"Don't you dare stand there judging me. What the hell do you know? Have you ever watched someone die? Have you ever listened to their screams of terror? That noise is impossible to get out of your brain! So don't stand there telling me that all my choices have been wrong. All I've been doing is trying to survive this hell!"
"You don't think I understand tragedy?" He pulls back his hair, showing me the scar in all its glory. "I spent five hours trapped in a car listening to my friends die around me and just praying that I'd make it out alive."
My anger flees the scene in record time. My arms drop to my side as I swallow down the lump in my throat.
"I know how hard that sound is to ignore, but at least I haven't chosen to throw away my life on a bunch of bad decisions. I'm trying to help you, Nicky. But your screwed up life keeps getting in the way."
He lets out a long sigh.
"Fine." I lift my chin. "You're better than me. Congratulations."
"I didn't mean-"
"Don't talk to me again." I shake my head. "I don't want you to waste your time looking for me, I don't deserve it anyway."
"Nicole, don't be like that."
I turn and start walking away. I don't know what's just happened, but the thought of spending another second near Dale Finnigan is too painful.
"I still want to help you!" he calls after me.
I keep moving.
"Nicole."
The people beside me turn to look at Dale.
"Who the hell is he talking to?" one guy mutters.
"Beats me, the guy's weird."
I cover my ears and keep walking. Blending with human traffic, I squeeze through doors as they open and eventually make it out of the school. Wrapping my arms around myself, I turn down Maple Lane and start walking home.
I have nowhere else to go.
Dale's words run through my head.
All I can think is... he's right.
My sins are finally catching up with me.
I deserve this.
No one will ever find my body, because I deserve to die.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The house is empty when I arrive. I have no choice but to jump... fall through the window and walk to my room. Stopping in the living room, I stand and gaze at the tall pine tree in the back yard. I can see Jody's tiny body falling as she screams my name.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to switch off the sound, but it doesn't work.
"NICKY!" rings in my brain, loud, clear and deafening.
I cover my ears and run up to my room. Flinging myself onto the bed, I bury my head in my arms and let the sobs take me. They climb up my body, making it wrench and jerk. I haven't cried this hard... ever.
My loud moans and hiccupy breaths fill the room until there's nothing left.
The silence that follows is depressing, but I can't move away from it. I lay there in numb silence for the rest of the day. I can't sleep, I can't disappear, all I can do is lie there and hear all my friends' nasty words swirl in my head. The only thing to break the rhythm is Jody's scream and the sick thud that followed it.
At four o'clock the front door clicks open. I recognize my mother's clipped steps. I want to go down and see her, but I can't make my body move. An hour later I hear Dad walking in.
"Get up," I whisper. I repeat the words until my brain starts functioning. Slowly I rise from the bed and make my way downstairs.
Mom is pottering in the kitchen, chopping up lettuce, slicing up tomatoes. Dad's at the refrigerator pulling out a beer.