A Whisper To A Scream Read online

  Blood floods my cheeks. “No one Ms. Winkle.”

  I hear Katie laughing at the opposite end of the hall and it takes everything in me to keep my mouth shut.

  “Well, you can think about not using that naughty word in detention.” Ms. Winkle jerks open the first drawer of her desk, grabbing a detention slip.

  “Ugh,” I mutter softly, hoping that the devil in a Mumu won’t hear me. I am wrong.

  “Ellory Graham!” she squeaks distastefully. “Would you like to earn yourself another one?”

  “No.” Would you like to pull that stick out of your ass?

  Ms. Winkle seizes a pen from her pen jar, fills the slip out quickly, and walks over to me, smacking it down in my hand. I crumble up the slip; tossing it at the trash can once she has her back turned.

  As I turn to walk down the hall, someone slams into me and digs their textbook into the corner of my back. “What the hell?”

  My face instantly relaxes when I see it’s my best friend, Wren. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” she chirps.

  Wren’s parents went through some kind of weird bird obsession and that’s how she got her name. It was either Wren or Robin. She was glad they picked Wren. “At least it’s unique,” she’d say. I agreed with her. There aren’t very many Wrens that I know.

  Actually, she’s the only Wren I know.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” she asks, probing my eyes for answers.

  “I just don’t want to be here.”

  “Do you ever?”

  “No.”

  “Well then, suck it up. We don’t have much longer until graduation.”

  Graduation, the word is like orchestra hitting a crescendo. I can’t wait to get out of this hell hole.

  Wren and I amble down the hall to our lockers. “So you got another detention, huh?” Wren asks.

  I’m not a stranger to detention, in fact, it seems like the after school classroom that its held in could be my permanent residence. I guess that’s what you get for always telling the world how you feel. I’ve never been the type to just keep my mouth shut. I always feel that honesty is the best policy. Unfortunately for me, my honesty always gets me into trouble.

  “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have. Katie Halston. It’s all her fault, she gave me a damn book job.”

  Wren frowns. “You didn’t have to say the ‘f’ word.”

  A tiny grin forms on my face. Ah Wren, she’s always so proper. No swearing, no partying, not an ounce of rebel in her at all.

  “Wren, I wasn’t going to just let her knock my books out of my hands without saying anything back.”

  “You should have, you got in trouble.”

  I snatch my books from my locker, slamming the door. “I don’t care if I got in trouble. I’m not going to let someone like Katie Halston treat me like a doormat.”

  The feud between me and Katie has been going on since the sixth grade. I try to remember what started it. At one point we were best friends. Better than best friends, we were Siamese twins, connected at the hip. And one day during the end of the sixth grade year that all changed overnight. She grew boobs and adapted a bitchy attitude and I was left in the dust.

  From that moment on, the war began. I mean, sure, she did her fair share of bitchy things to me, but I could be just as bitchy. One time, I told the whole tenth grade she inserted a foreign object in her you-know-where. I even went as far as telling everyone she had to go to the emergency room to have it removed. That scored me a lot of points. Who wouldn’t believe a story like that about the school slut, right?

  Wren and I continue down the hall. I’ve got journalism next period. She’s got Advanced Trigonometry.

  “Ells, you should be worried you know,” she declares. “All of those detentions go on your permanent record. How will you ever get into a good college?”

  “I’m not worried about it.”

  Wren is the type of person who has fifty Ivy League acceptance letters spread out on her desk at home. “What about your future?”

  I shrug. “The future is inevitable. I still have time.”

  She nods, disappointment highlighting her soft features. Sometimes I think Wren wants to convert me into an image of herself. That will never happen. She’s my best friend and I love her, but I imagine being like her takes way too much work.

  The hallway comes to a fork. Students hustle past us trying to make it their classes on time. The sound of rubber soles squeaking against the linoleum echoes and ricochets off the neutral toned walls. Wren stops just before we part ways. “See you at lunch.”

  I nod. “See you later.”

  Wren turns right and I make a quick left.

  There are some good things about living in a small town and going to a small school. For one, even when the hallways are crowded, they really aren’t crowded to the point where you feel claustrophobic. Two, that makes it easier to run to class and be on time.

  The bad thing about living in a small town like Burton, Ohio is that we’re a gossip factory. Everyone knows everybody else’s business. And I’m talking like everything, secrets, sex-life, and bowel movements.

  Depending on who was in the doghouse each week that person’s business was aired out around the school and town until the next best piece of juicy, dripping gossip came along. This week, it’s my turn. Yay, me.

  Thanks to my new BFF Jimmy Beam, I managed to earn quite a reputation for myself at a party last Friday. I guess I played tongue twister with a few of the attendees. Not that I remember much of it. I mean, come on, I was in drunken haze. I didn’t know the extent of my actions until I arrived at school on Monday and my actions were on full blast.

  OMG. Did you hear about Ellory Graham?

  Burton High is the radio and I am that annoying song they play on constant rotation a million times. And to make matters worse, one of the guys I made out with was Blake Forrester, Megan White’s boyfriend.

  Megan White is Katie Halston’s wing woman, the second most popular girl in school. We’d never had any problems in the past, but now she has a personal vendetta against me. She won’t rest until she assassinates me.

  Maybe she should consider keeping her boyfriend on a shorter leash.

  When I enter Journalism, I notice her sitting in the back of the classroom. Ugh. Normally, I sleep through Journalism so I completely forgot I have this class with her. Great…just great.

  Our eyes meet. She glowers and I look away. She’s a fire-breathing dragon. Her face is about to go up in flames. Suddenly, Megan coughs, “Slut!” Then she cackles.

  I heave my books on top of my desk and rotate around, slanting my eyes. “It’s not my fault you lack in satisfying the opposite sex.”

  Here’s the 411 on scandalous hookups. If the guy is involved with another girl she automatically assumes the romp is the other girls fault. Why? It’s not like I randomly sought Blake out and said ‘hey why don’t you cheat on your girlfriend with me?’ I’m not that type. What I did with Blake was a mistake. I wish Megan could understand that.

  “Oh and you would know all about satisfying the opposite sex, right slut?” Her voice is emotionless. Her eyes hard.

  I give her a deceitful leer. “And so does your boyfriend, yum.”

  That shuts her up. Her eyes bug out and for a second they look like they’re about to pop out of her skull. I plop down on the soft cushioned computer chair feeling triumphant. I’ve won the battle, but I know it will be a long shot before I win the war.

  ****

  At lunch, I stroll to the back of the filled cafeteria. Chatter circulates through the room and students scurry back and forth with their bright colored lunch trays. I try to peek at what’s on one of the trays as a freshman boy passes, but I can’t get a good look.

  The last table in the back left corner is where me, Wren, and our friend Molly always sit. Wren picked this table when we were sophomores because it’s directly in front of the heater and in the winter the school gets a little drafty.
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  Molly’s ginger-red hair is pulled back in a ponytail and it hangs gracefully down her back. A sophomore boy with chubby cheeks and freckles hangs from his bench with an open can of pop. He’s sneaky, trying to dip Molly’s hair in the fizzling refreshment. I stop in front of him and glare. He takes one look at me, and sits back in his seat.

  I don’t terrorize the underclassmen, but I’m extremely loyal to my friends. I’ll cut a bitch for them. Plus Wren and Molly couldn’t fight off a mosquito.

  Molly has her head buried in a book. She pushes her brown tortoise shell glasses up and puts her face closer. Any closer and she’ll be sniffing the pages.

  “Hey!” I bark.

  Molly snaps up and clutches her chest. “Geez, Ellory!”

  “No studying at lunch,” I tell her. “This is a free period.”

  She exhales. “Not when you have a huge AP Government test.” Molly, like Wren, hopes to get into some fancy Ivy League school.

  My attention averts to Wren as she floats toward her. She’s always so graceful, like Miss America or something and she fills out every inch of the hot-pink dress she’s wearing perfectly.

  At the table, she sets her tray down and I peer over her shoulder at the contents. “Gross. Tuna surprise.”

  Wren sits and smiles. “Yup.”

  I am skipping lunch today.

  She glances at me excitedly, before digging into the unknown slop on her tray. I don’t understand how she can find that appetizing. Who knows what they put in that?

  Her blue eyes sparkle. “Guess what?”

  “You got into another top college.”

  She playfully slaps my shoulder. “No.”

  I’m stumped. “What happened?”

  “We got a new kid.”

  My eyebrows raise as Molly looks up from her book. “Really?”

  “Yes,” says Wren. “And he’s hot.”

  Molly leans in closer to Wren’s face. Like she’s trying to be secretive. “Like really hot?”

  “Like scorching hot,” Wren gushes. “Like hotter than every guy in this school, hot.”

  This ground-breaking piece of info peaks my interest. “Really.” Now I know Wren, and even though she’s a bit on the prudish side, we share the same appreciation for the hotness of the opposite sex. “Well how come I haven’t seen him?” New kids transferring to Logan High is like a leap year, something that only happens once every four years.

  Wren slurps down a spoonful of Tuna surprise and I shudder at the sound of the slimy concoction sliding down her esophagus.

  “He came in late,” she says in between bites. “He was in my fourth period Economics class. You should have seen Katie, she was practically throwing herself on him.”

  Figures. The town tramp always flocks to the new guy.

  “Well,” Molly starts, “Did you get any specifics?”

  “Specifics?”

  “Yes, you moron. As in the deets,” I add, putting my two cents.

  “Oh!” she gasps like she’s just received a miraculous epiphany. “Well, his name is Adam Jacobs and he just moved here from Chicago.”

  “Why in the hell would anyone want to move here from Chicago?” Molly queries with a snarky tone.

  Wren shrugs. “Maybe his parents made him move.”

  I grimace. I’m disappointed. I guess I expected more info. “That’s all you got?”

  “It was kinda hard to ask anything with Katie practically riding him in class,” she huffs.

  I prop my head up in my hands. “So give me the logistics,” I say. “What type of guy is he?”

  Wren scrunches her eyebrows together and shifts her gaze to her hands. I can tell classifying what type of guy he is, is going to be difficult for her. Me, I could take one look at a guy and tell whether he’s a jock, punk-rocker, or band geek.

  “It’s really hard to describe him,” she mumbles. “I guess you have to see him and form your own opinion.”

  Wren’s blushing—flustered. This guy must really be something because I’ve never seen Wren get flustered over a guy. I’ve seen her get flustered plenty of times over her homework, but never over a guy.

  I’m so enthralled with this breaking news that it takes me a minute to register that some kind of liquid is trailing down my back. “What the?” I touch the top of my head and chocolate milk drips down the front of my face.

  Molly’s mouth drops open. “Oh my God, Ellory!”

  Smoothing my hair back, I shoot out of my seat, spin around, and face Katie and Megan.

  I breathe in and out. I’m calm. Calm.

  “Got milk,” Katie snickers and waves the carton at me. Megan lifts her hand and Katie gives her a high-five.

  Now, I’m not calm. I’m furious.

  I grind my teeth. “You bitch!”

  The entire cafeteria goes quiet. Megan covers her mouth and muffled giggles bounce off the walls.

  “Oh. Am I supposed to be scared?” Katie probes with a sarcastic undertone.

  I’m gonna crack. Freak out. I’m breathing hard. I’m convulsing. Fists balled up at my sides.

  Wren tries reasoning with me. “Calm down, Ells. Just sit down.”

  “Seriously,” Molly chimes in. “They aren’t worth it.”

  Wren and Molly are right. They aren’t worth it. I turn to sit back down. Wren stretches her hand out and hands me a napkin.

  Then Megan bellows, “Worthless skank.”

  She and Katie turn to walk away and I lose my cool. I’m nuclear missile. Set out on a path of destruction.

  Whipping around, I storm toward them, rip at Katie’s fake blonde hair, and wrestle her to the ground.

  Chapter: 3 Consequences

  “Katie!” Megan screams and rushes toward us. She jerks my on arm and tries to lift me up. I elbow her hard in the stomach. Megan winces in pain and runs off.

  I don’t think Katie ever expected me to get physical with her. The look of shock on her face is priceless. Truly priceless.

  I secure myself on top of her and the cafeteria breaks out into a chorus of chants. Except for Wren and Molly who keep yelling, “Stop!”

  My fists are flailing. Punch after punch. Katie’s arms are up and she’s blocking my shots. “Stop it!” she shrieks in fear. Tears stream down her cheeks and her thick make-up runs down her face. “Stop!”

  Adrenaline pumps through me. My heart pounds. The blood writhing in my veins is hot lava. I’m not going to stop.

  Then Katie lowers her right arm slightly and I get a clear shot. My fist connects with her nose and I can feel the bones cracking. Snapping. Shattering. I hesitate for a moment and hold my hand. Pain sears through me in torrents. I think I broke a knuckle. Damn it.

  After shaking off the pain, I raise my arm, prepared to punch her a second time when Mr. Jones, the burly Phis-Ed teacher rushes up behind me and yanks me off of her. “That’s enough Ellory! Everybody! The fight’s over!” he booms trying to gain control of the chaotic cafeteria.

  I’m struggling beneath his grasp, reaching toward Katie. Running forward, taking him with me as Katie rises slowly and another teacher comes to her aide.

  “You bitch!” she screams. Blood rains down her lips and she places her hands over her face. “You broke my nose!”

  Mr. Jones is dragging me and I’m still fighting him. “Tell your Mom to pay for a nose job, Marsha Brady!”

  “That’s enough Miss Graham,” Mr. Jones scolds. “We’re going to the office.”

  Then just before we get out the door, the cafeteria erupts with applause.

  ****

  Mr. Jones deposits me in the principal’s office and I try to keep the smug grin off my face as I wait for my ‘what were you thinking,’ lecture. Honestly, Katie totally deserved that. And I bet half of the other kids she’s bullied feel relieved.

  She’s a devil in a mini-skirt, and I think of one time in particular where she shoved a freshman girl’s face into the water fountain. A wider smile curls on my lips. I hope her nose stays crooked.

/>   I stare at the contents of the simple office. With its plain white walls. Papers stacked and organized on Principal Anderson’s desk. Soft words fill my ears and I look over my shoulder as Carla, the school secretary, goes over a schedule with a boy.

  This has to be the new boy Wren was talking about. And I know for sure because I know every guy in this school’s name. And he’s someone I’ve never seen before.

  He’s not facing me, but I take in his appearance from the floor up. Filled out faded jeans. Tall. Long Lean build. Not too short, but not too long messy mahogany hair. If the front of this guy’s looks as good as the back of him, I’m in for a world of hurt. I bite my bottom lip, still staring, when Principal Anderson struts in and closes the door.

  I look at him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson.”

  He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Miss Graham, so nice to see you again.” His voice is cold. That makes me nervous.

  I try to make a joke. “Mr. Anderson, you don’t sound too excited to see me.”

  “Ellory, you know violence is something that’s severely frowned upon in this educational establishment.”

  So is handing out STD’s like they’re candy. “I know.”

  “Yet, you attacked Miss Halston.”

  “She dumped milk on me,” I say. “She started it.”

  “That doesn’t make what you did right. You should have gone to a teacher and reported it.”

  First off, I’m no tattle-tale, I can handle myself. Second, I know for a fact the only thing Katie would get would be a ‘don’t do that again’ speech.

  “I’m going to have to suspend you,” he says sternly.

  I think I’m going to barf. My mouth falls open. “What? She totally deserved it! She’s tormented me every day since the sixth grade!”

  Here’s what bothers me about adults. They say we’re supposed to be the bigger person and lie there like road kill while the bullies repeatedly run us over. That we’re saying more by taking the abuse and staying silent, than sticking up for ourselves. I don’t see it that way. What I did was let Katie know that I’m not gonna take it anymore. She’s not going to get the best of me ever again. Her nose will be a constant reminder.