Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗
- Author: Kateri Stanley
Book online «Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗». Author Kateri Stanley
Doug broke into a fit of hysterical giggles.
“What?” Stripe asked. “I can’t hear you.”
“How was your flu?”
“Oh better now thanks,” she said.
“Yeah I bet it is,” Doug whispered.
Zippo chimed in on the laughing.
It’s not funny. Jace looked at Stripe. Why couldn’t you just tell me? Don’t you trust me?
It was either paranoia or she was being ridiculously silly but for the first time, Stripe sensed the dynamics of her friendship group had changed. Doug seemed different, irritated even. He wasn’t giving her eye contact anymore and if she tried to talk to him, he’d dismiss her.
The thoughts were whirling around her mind at lunch time. Doug, Jace and Zippo delved into conversation and not a single word of it was ever targeted at her. Stripe wasn’t the type of person to crave attention but she was starting to feel like a ghost. As they all went to class, she nudged Jace. “Is everything okay with you guys?”
Jace frowned. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know,” Stripe said. “Something’s up. I mean, are you all mad at me? Have I done something wrong?”
Jace stared for a moment then motioned to the others. “We’ll see you later.” Stripe felt sick and was pulled around the corner towards the lockers. “Stripe, I know about you and Cameron.”
“What?”
“I know you’ve been seeing each other because you’re... together.”
“I’m not a lesbian, J. Please keep your voice down!”
Jace squinted, scrutinising her. “Then who were you with under the bleachers?”
“How did you...?”
“It’s a long story. Doug and Zip are annoyed because you haven’t been honest with them. They don’t get why you'd hide being in a relationship. I mean, I understand why you’ve been keeping it a secret because it’s Cameron. It makes so much sense now.”
Stripe didn’t know whether to vomit or faint. “I-I-I didn’t... think you’d be okay with it. D-Do you hate me?”
“Don't assume okay,” Jace replied. “I’m getting tired of you doing that. I don’t hate you. Girlfriend or boyfriend. It doesn’t matter to me. I just want you to be honest.”
Her best friend’s words singed into her memory when they walked up to her locker. Stripe was floating along, like a leaf bouncing on the breeze. Her best friend knew who she really was now. There was nothing hiding, shivering in the dark. It was euphoric and uplifting. She was a true open book now, well, according to Jace.
Stripe noticed there was something sticking out of the grilling of her locker. It was a small piece of paper; it had been folded double and doubled over again. She could see the imprints of sweaty fingers and pencil smudges:
Meet me at the football ground. We need to talk.
The writing was rushed and messy. There was a feeling of apprehension but Stripe had to get to her English class. She let the note fall into her hands. She had a drawer full of them at home.
“You don’t have to walk with me,” Stripe said.
“I’m just cutting through and I'll leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Stripe blushed a deep crimson. “We aren’t lovebirds, J.”
“But you’re together…”
Stripe wasn’t feeling the love right now. There was something about the mood of the note. It had a hard edge, similar to the scenes in television and movies when a character would ominously say: “We need to talk…”
They marched up the hill to the football ground; the arched necks of the overhead lights loomed. In a way, she felt more at ease and horrified at the same time that one of her friends knew her secret.
They crossed the peak of the hill and Stripe saw the blackness of Cameron’s shaggy hair. “So, what have you got to tell me?” Cameron asked, rather angrily, turning her attention to Jace. “What’s she doing here?”
“You’re not very welcoming,” Jace replied.
“There was a note in my bag saying to meet here,” Cameron snapped.
“I didn't leave a note for you, Cam.” Stripe got her note from her pocket. “This was in my locker.”
Cameron snatched it from her fingers. “I didn't write this.”
“I had a feeling this was bogus, then who sent it?” Jace asked.
“Ladies!” a booming voice called out.
They all stared up at Christopher Maxwell, one of the guys in Cameron's gang. He was the one who made that crude remark when Stripe confronted Cameron at the back of the gym. He was standing on one of the steps, with some of his friends dotted around him. They reminded Stripe of a pack of bating hyenas leering and circling around their prey.
Stripe grabbed Jace’s hand and Cameron whispered something quietly. “Get out of here now.” She looked at Chris. “What’s going on?”
“You tell us Cam,” he hissed.
She shook her head. “I haven’t got a clue, sorry.”
“You lied to us,” Leon Cruise said.
Cameron frowned. “About what?”
“That you’re gay,” Chris stated.
Oh no.
Cameron laughed. “I’m not.”
“We overheard Jace and Stripe at lunch time!” Travis Wilson shouted.
Chris addressed Stripe. “I didn’t know you liked girls, Susan.”
“I don’t,” she replied, inside she was shaking.
They all laughed sadistically. Stripe found Chris’s words unappealing and cruel, there was a serious sinister undertone lingering.
“It’s none of your fucking business whether they are or if they aren’t,” Jace replied.
Chris's jaw tensed “Well, I wasn’t talking to you, was I Jacey? So shut the fuck up!”
They stepped to the ground, Leon and Travis congregated behind Chris. He gave Jace a filthy stink eye and walked up to Cameron, lighting a cigarette. “I know what I heard, Cam.”
“They were talking shit,” she replied, her words stinging Stripe.
Chris blew cigarette smoke into her face. “I mean, we know you’re butch for a chick, stronger than most guys. And you said you’d fuck Billy Idol and Judd Nelson.”
Cameron coughed, waving the smoke away. “I would.”
“Well, if you like guys so much then.” He indicated towards his friend. “Kiss Travis.”
Stripe saw Cameron cringe. Travis had way too much acne, a sheen of grease on his face because he didn’t wash and allegedly smoked pot when his parents weren't home. Anyone kissing that face would need to chug back a
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