Tomorrow is a curriculum day, so today was officially the last day of the semester.
Ploughing through the park this morning I came to the place where I tripped, fell and was subsequently raped. I didn’t reflect upon the incident. I noticed some ducks ruffling and cleaning their feathers beside the lake. I noticed how unseasonably clear the sky was.
I also noticed the traffic entering and exiting the street, which abuts the park. I willed Bryce to drive past and see me, to pull over to the kerb and yell for me to hop in. I needed him so much. But I walked into the school alone, his car already sitting in its usual parking space.
I wondered why he hadn’t tried contacting me after our falling out Tuesday night. I wondered if he had stopped feeling anything for me, loving me, wanting me.
I shuffled into the lab with my eyes downcast and my shoulders slightly rounded, heeding no one. Fearing no one. A girl snickered loudly. If it had anything to do with me, I didn’t care.
I sat down. When Bryce told us to take out our books, I crossed my arms over my distended backpack and used it like a pillow to cradle my head. I didn’t bother taking out mine because I felt like rebelling.
Bryce quizzed us. Although I knew all of the answers, I chose not to raise my hand. I determined not to be so predictable. Besides that, I didn’t feel like it.
I just wanted to sleep.
I closed my eyes for a second and felt the inertia wash over me.
Bryce uttered my name. I was lying beneath him on the brown leather couch in his living room, running my tongue over his tanned, salty brow. Running it briefly over his eyelids and gently flicking his lashes with it.
I could feel his heart drumming a too-fast beat against both our chests.
“Bryce,” I moaned fervently.
He lifted his head and pressed his hot mouth against mine. He pressed it against my nose, too. Suddenly I was squirming beneath him and struggling for -
“Justice.”
I woke up with a start. I woke up with a headache, too.
I checked my wristwatch, then I raised my eyes. The girl seated directly in front of me had her lips pursed together in a futile attempt not to laugh.
“Sorry?” I mumbled.
“Does sound travel faster in water or in air?” Bryce—Mr Grills—was standing somewhere behind me, to my left. He sounded pissed.
“In water,” I replied automatically, looking at anything but him.
“Why?”
I felt like saying something totally stupid and totally off the beam, just to see how he’d react.
“Because the particles are bunched up together and more easily compressed.”
“Correct.” He hovered. I tried desperately hard not to breathe in his heady scent, but it was like holding my breath under water. I couldn’t do it for long. He asked, “Where are your books?”
I calmly indicated my bag. “Still waiting for me to acknowledge them, I guess.”
“If you had no desire to participate today,” he said, “then maybe you should’ve volunteered to clean up the yard.”
Mr Grills made similar comments to students he considered ungracious, lazy and barely worth his time. Of course, I knew he didn’t think that of me. I knew he didn’t mean to sound so ticked off either, he was putting on a front and responding as he saw fit and treating me like he would any other misbehaving teenager. But for once I didn’t feel like apologising. Nor was I going to dip my eyes in a submissive way and not argue back.
“Perhaps I could start here, where the disgusting filth seems to accumulate more.” My voice was as sharp as a well-honed rapier, penetrating deeply.
The class stirred, and Kitty took it upon herself to challenge me. No one else seemed willing to. “Who’s filth?” she asked truculently.
I glanced at her. “I guess whoever’s feeling a little offended right now. You’re offended, aren’t you, Kitty?”
“That’s enough,” said Mr Grills.
“No, Mr Grills,” I corrected him. “That’s a start.”
Without looking back, he walked over to the door. “Will you step outside for a minute?”
The legs of my chair scraped across the floor as I pushed myself away from the desk and stood. “I’d prefer to leave.”
“We’d prefer it, too,” Kitty replied with a baleful stare.
No one argued her statement.
I shouldered my bag. “Is Caleb here today?” I asked Kitty, in front of everybody.
She was indignant. “Why should I answer that?”
“Was he here yesterday?”
“That’s none of your—”
Someone interjected. “He wasn’t.”
I muttered under my breath, “Coward.”
Bryce shut the door behind us. “What is up with you?” he hissed. “Never before today have I seen you act like that.”
“You mean act my age?”
“I thought you were above all of that, Justice.”
“Above all of what?” I fired back. “Expressing my opinion?”
“Your opinion? You called those kids in there filth. What you expressed was insolence and immaturity.”
“I should have volunteered, huh?”
He relented somewhat. “I’m sorry, but what was I supposed to say?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry for being so disruptive. But I don’t regret saying what I did.”
“You should learn to keep your insults—your opinions, whatever—to yourself.”
“We need to talk, Bryce.”
“This isn’t the appropriate time. And it’s not Bryce here.”
“Whatever. I think we should go into your office.”
“Didn’t you hear me? Justice—”
“No!” I bristled, making him twitch. I told myself to lower my voice, and I did. “Do you know a student named Caleb Brack? He’s in a couple of my classes but none of yours.”
Bryce had to think for a moment. “Caleb Brack. Yes. He helped our cricket team win the final, didn’t he?”
That was news to me. A rapist and a sporting hero.
“Did he? Good for him,” I replied acrimoniously. “You know how I ran out on you Tuesday night?”
“Of course. I tried calling you back.” He surveyed the lighted corridor, wary of suspicious onlookers, before placing his hands on either side of my face. His hands felt dry, and smelled of chalk and dust and soap. He whispered, “I thought I’d go crazy with worry, Justice. Anything could’ve happened to you.”
“Anything did,” I said, my tone flat. Bryce opened his mouth to respond, but I adjured him to silence. “We really ought to go into your office, Mr Grills.”
He slowly removed his hands from my face, looking depressed. “I have a class to teach, Justice.”
“Your class is more important than me?”
“You know that’s not the case. If we go into my office now, everyone will start to wonder…” He sighed. “I’m free next period.”
“I may not be around then.”
“But you have other classes to attend.”
“What’s your point?” I questioned.
“Justice.”
I smiled plaintively at him. Forlornly. “Do what you must.”
He started to back away from me, from the situation. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said, groping for the doorhandle. “I promise you.”
“He raped me,” I blurted.
Bryce stopped. “What?”
“Caleb Brack—our champion cricketer—raped me, in the park, by the lake. At first I thought it was you, but then I saw it was him.” Without so much as a pause I advised him, “Try to focus more on sound refraction and reflection, Mr Grills. I understood it easily but, you know them, they require a little more attention than me.”