Lovely Girls(29)

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SEPTEMBER 21

Alex sat on her bed, her arms wrapped around her bare legs. She wore an oversize gray T-shirt with a black Nike Swoosh on the front.

I think I screwed up. Badly. In a way I can’t fix.

Alex pressed her hands against her face, momentarily blocking it from the camera.

And I’m recording this on my tablet. I’ll get to the reason why in a minute.

But school has pretty much sucked ever since everyone found out about my dad. It’s just like it was back in Buffalo after the accident. People giving me weird looks, whispering to their friends when I pass by. I know it sounds paranoid, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I’m the girl whose dad died all over again.

Alex shook her head.

No one will talk to me, not even at tennis team practice. Actually, especially not at practice, because Daphne’s there. She’s made it clear that I’m an undesirable, and no one wants to risk making her mad.

It was really hot out today. Coach made us run wind sprints and then do side-to-side ground stroke drills. It was so intense, one girl even threw up.

I was watching Daphne and Coach, like I do every day, to see if they were looking at one another or standing too close. But it’s so weird—they barely interact. It’s Callie who’s always hanging around Coach. Chatting with him, joking with him. At one point, she even stole his whistle and was wearing it around her neck. I wondered if it bothered Daphne that Callie was flirting with him, but it didn’t look like she even noticed.

Finally, Coach—who’d gotten his whistle back from Callie—blew three short blasts to let us know practice was over. Most of the team was more than ready to leave. I took a basket of balls to one of the courts to practice my serve. I needed to work on it, but I also wanted to avoid being in the locker room while the rest of the team was in there.

I spent about a half hour serving and then picked up the balls. I figured it was enough time for everyone else to have cleared out, so I went to the locker room to get my stuff. But as soon as I walked in, my heart sank. Daphne, Shae, and Callie were all still there, sitting on the wooden benches next to the lockers. They were waiting for me. I could tell by the way they were looking at one another and from the way they smiled when they saw me.

Callie said, “Hi, Alex. We saw you out there practicing your serve. You seemed very intense.”

I ignored her and made a beeline to my locker. I just wanted to get out of there and away from them, as quickly as possible. I opened my locker door, and before I could stop myself, I screamed.

There was a naked Ken doll with a loop of yarn around his neck hanging from the hook inside my locker. His eyes had been x-ed out with a black marker, and he was swinging back and forth, his legs split apart. I know it was just a stupid doll, but it scared me. I jumped back and tripped over one of the wooden benches and almost fell over.

Daphne, Callie, and Shae started laughing. Like, scream laughing. It was so loud, it echoed around the locker room.

Callie was like, “Did you see her face?”

And Daphne said, “Oh, my God, that was priceless.”

And then Shae joined in, because of course she did, and said, “She looks like she’s seen a ghost.”

She meant a ghost as in my dad. As though that was somehow hysterically funny.

Alex shook her head in disgust.

And then Callie said, “Maybe Ken reminds her of her dad.”

And Daphne said, “Do you think he had plastic hair and no dick?”

That’s who the Ken doll was supposed to be. My dad. My dead father. They thought it was funny to make fun of his death. I turned around slowly and stared at them.

And Daphne said, “What’s wrong, freak? Do you want to film us again? Maybe you can get a good angle of my ass in my tennis skirt.”

She turned and lifted her skirt, exposing her tennis shorties. The other two started screech laughing again, as though it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

And I just snapped. I didn’t mean to. It just happened. The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Oh, I already have a video of you.”

My heart was racing. And I knew that I shouldn’t say it. That I should have swallowed the words back.

But then Daphne sneered at me and said, “I know. I was there, freak. I was the one who caught you.”

I said, “No. I filmed you another time. Here, in fact.”

And she said, “What? You took a video of me at school? What was I doing? Answering a question about the commerce clause? Whatever it was, I’m sure it was riveting.”

I probably should have stopped there. Just turned around and walked away. I only have to make it through one year at this school, and then I’ll never have to deal with those horrible girls again. Antagonizing them further wouldn’t help.

But I didn’t stop there. I couldn’t. Not after the dead dad doll hanging in my locker.

“No,” I said. “Here in this building. In Coach’s office.”

Maybe I imagined it, but I thought Daphne’s expression changed. Like, she knew something bad was coming.

She was right.

I took out my phone, found the video of Daphne and Coach having sex, and hit the play button. And then I held it up so the three of them could see it.

They all stared at my phone, at the video of Coach and Daphne having sex on his desk. The sounds they made, the grunts and groans, filled the locker room. Shae gasped. Callie put her hand over her mouth. But I kept looking at Daphne, who was staring at my phone like she was mesmerized by the vision of herself.