Читать книгу Send Pics - Lauren McLaughlin - Страница 10

As soon as I dump my stuff in my locker at school, I head right over to Suze’s locker in the West Wing. To my relief, she’s there, hanging up her coat. I wave to her but she doesn’t see me through the scrum of kids between us. When I’m about five feet away from her, weaving around a cluster of freshman girls, she closes her locker door. And you will not believe who’s leaning against the locker next to hers.

None other than Tarkin Shaw, Mr. “You’re a Total Fucking Whore.”

While Suze spins her lock shut, Tarkin leans over and fiddles with the ends of her light brown hair. My first instinct, it goes without saying, is to shove him off of her and get Suze into a delousing shower ASAP. But Suze sees me coming and puts her hands up.

“Nikki,” she says. “Nikki, no. Stop.”

By now Tarkin has draped himself over her and is running his hands down her bare arms, which is the same move he tried on me in Tara’s basement.

“Why is he touching you?” I ask her, my voice brittle. “Why are you letting him touch you?”

Tarkin squeezes Suze’s shoulders. “See?” he says. “I told you she hates me. She kicked me in the nuts, you know. I should sue her.”

“I kicked you in the head, dipshit. It was Lydia who kicked you in the nuts. Made you cry like a little bitch, too. Remember that part?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says.

“Or what? Are you going to put on your leotard and wrestle me to the floor? Actually I’m surprised Lydia could even find your nuts. Must have had a magnifying glass.”

Tarkin’s eyes blaze. His lips get small and white. I recognize the expression because I’ve seen it before. He wants to hit me. But I know he won’t do it, not there in the hallway in front of other people. Hitting a girl would make him look bad.

So instead, he puts his finger under Suze’s chin and pulls her face toward his. “Tell her.”

“Tell me what? Suze? What’s going on?”

“Yeah, we had a long talk,” Suze says, not looking at me. “We were wrong about him, Nikki.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s not what you think,” she says, looking at the floor.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tell her,” Tarkin says. “Tell her what you told me.”

Suze looks up at him, takes a deep breath, then glances at me for a second before returning her eyes to the floor. “I guess . . . I think we’ve been unfair.”

“To him?”

“There’s a lot more to him than you think,” she says.

“Thank you,” Tarkin says. “I’m glad somebody sees it.”

I lower my gaze to try to catch Suze’s eye, but she’ll only glance at me. “Are you forgetting Saturday night?” I ask her. “Are you forgetting Tara’s party and how we found you passed out in the basement with him?”

“It’s not what you think though.”

“What is it then? What happened?”

“Um,” she says. “Well, I think what happened was—“

“Look at me, Suze.”

“Yeah,” Tarkin says. “Look at her. She’s not gonna hurt you. Go ahead. Tell her.”

Suze takes another breath then slowly brings her beautiful brown eyes up to mine. “I think what happened was . . . um . . . I went inside to get a soda while you guys were out on the porch and I put my cup down to check my phone. Then, when I picked it up again it was the wrong cup. It must have had something in it. Maybe vodka? You know how you can’t taste that, right?”

“It’s a classic rookie mistake,” Tarkin says. “Always label your cup. Right, babe?” He squeezes Suze’s shoulders and she giggles nervously.

“Anyway, Tarkin saw me and . . . we got to talking . . . and . . . something just . . . clicked.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I keep waiting for something to come out of her mouth that remotely resembles Suze. Because this isn’t it.

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Suze says.

I grab her wrist and try to pull her away for a private discussion. Tarkin holds onto her with his bulging mutant arms for a second, just to show that he can. Then he lets her go and I drag her a few feet away. “You picked up the wrong cup? Is that what he told you?”

“Nikki, please.”

“So it hasn’t occurred to you that he spiked your drink?”

“I can hear you,” Tarkin shouts. “And it definitely wasn’t me.”

“Yeah, right,” I say. “Because you’ve never done that to a girl before.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Liar.”

“I’m a target,” he says, walking back to us to mansplain. “Girls throw themselves at me all the time. Then, when it doesn’t work out or whatever, they’re all, Oh, poor me, it was rape. Tarkin Shaw took advantage of me.”

My body tenses with rage. I picture slamming his head into that locker until he stops breathing. I picture squeezing his throat until he turns blue. This isn’t the first time I’ve imagined killing Tarkin Shaw. I’ve pictured his death in a variety of ways.

“The sad thing is that this happens every day,” he says. “But you can’t even stand up for yourself because then you’re ‘blaming the victim.’ But you know what? Guys are the real victims of rape.”

I shoot Suze an are you listening to this look, but she just shrugs and I don’t know how to read it. Is she saying she agrees with him? Is she saying he’s an idiot so it doesn’t matter what he says? Suze can be pretty live-and-let-live about things, especially sexual things. Her parents are basically hippies and she was raised to be “sex-positive.” I know she’s not a virgin. But this is something else. This is Tarkin Shaw—basically the Pol Pot of date rape. And yes, we are studying genocide in AP history this term, and no I do not think the comparison is tasteless.

I try one more time. “Suze, I think the alcohol is still in your system. You’re not thinking straight.”

“No, Nikki, listen,” she says. “I’m sorry. I really am. You’ve been a good friend and all, especially when I was new here. But maybe it’s time we both moved on.”

She looks up at Tarkin, who grins smugly. He’s eating this up. Not only has he somehow managed to score Suze Tilman, the coolest girl in school. But he gets to do it at my expense. It’s like Christmas and summer vacation all rolled into one for him.

How is any of this happening?

While I stand there, shocked to the core and unable to speak or even move, Tarkin puts his arm around Suze and walks her away. Halfway down the hall, he leans in to whisper something to her. Suze looks up at him, smiles, and then rests her head on his shoulder—like she’s in love with him! And the two of them walk down the hallway like that together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.