Pretty Little Devils (14 page)

When Hazel came out of the bathroom, the movie had ended. People were gathered in little groups. Hazel found Ellen, who was eating some popcorn beside the barbecue and laughing with Megan and Carolyn. Monkey Boy was propped up beside her. She pretend-fed it some popcorn, then put her beer bottle to its lips.

“Hi, guys,” Hazel said.

Matty smiled, unaware of her distress.

“So. Did the ending change?”

They giggled. Megan's laugh was extreme, and Hazel realized she was wasted.

“Have you seen Brandon?” Ellen asked.

“Not for a while,” Hazel said guiltily. She had no idea what to say to Ellen about what she had seen. Or if she
should
say anything, ever.

Stephan Nylund sidled over to the group. He smelled like a liquor store.

He gave Megan a salute and said, “Hey, Williams, how's it hanging?”

“Fuck off,” Megan said.

“Whoa, you sure don't talk like a lady,” Stephan said. “Which is not surprising, you being a dyke and all.”

“Just
leave
!” Megan snapped.

“Oh, struck a nerve, did I?” He staggered around a little.

Hazel looked at Matty, who slowly shook his head. “Hey, man,” he said, putting his hand on Stephan's arm. “Chill.”

Stephan stared down at Matty's grip. “Don't you freaking touch me,” Stephan slurred.

Then Brandon walked up. “Hey, what's going on?”

“Megan's a dyke,” Stephan said, “and I'm going to kick Matty Vardeman's ass.”

“Whoa! Stephan, you've had too much to drink.” Brandon turned to Matty. “Don't worry. I'll get him home.”

“You know it's true,” Stephan insisted. “You're the one who said Megan's so butt-ugly no guy would ever do her.”

Brandon turned bright red. “Shut up, man.”

Ellen looked stricken. “Brandon, you did not say that.”

“He did!” Stephan insisted. “Josh was there. Yo, Josh!” Stephan hollered across the yard.

“El?”
Megan's voice was shrill. “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

“Let's go,” Brandon said, tugging on Stephan.

Stephan leered at Megan. “Hey, I'm not the one who went all Ellen DeGeneres on—”

“Shut up!”
Megan screamed.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
Heads turned.

“Hey,” Hazel broke in. She took Megan's arm. “Let's find somewhere else to be.”

“You shut up about me!” Megan slurred. She pushed Hazel away, took a swipe at Stephan, and missed.

Stephan doubled over in helpless laughter.

And then, with the world's worst sense of timing, Brandon grinned. He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a chuckle.

Sure, Megan was making a scene, but Stephan was way out of line. Sylvia was right, Hazel guessed. Brandon had some asshole left in him after all.

Hazel threw a look at Matty and pulled Megan toward the house. Carolyn walked beside her.

After a couple of seconds, Ellen came too. She carried Monkey Boy firefighter style, holding him tightly as she walked with her friends.

The three PLDs walked Megan into Ellen's room. Ellen set Monkey Boy down on a pink satin pillow.

Ellen was stuck in the froufrou-ruffles stage of girlhood, Hazel noted. All Laura Ashley and white curlicue wicker. It was kind of endearing.

As soon as they sat down on the bed, Megan burst into tears.

Carolyn bolted up. “I can't deal right now. I'm going to find Sylvia.” Hazel nodded and turned her attention back to Megan.

“He is such a loser,” Megan said, weeping. “I just hate him.”

“What is his deal? Did you guys really go out?” Hazel asked.

Ellen paled and waved her hand as if to say,
Don't ask her that.

Too late, Hazel thought.

“It got so ugly,” Megan began. “Stephan and I were dating. Then at a party I got drunk, me and Carolyn…and I wondered what it was like. Stephan found us and said he'd spread it all over school.
God.
I thought he was going to tell everyone.”

“It's okay, Megan,” Hazel said. “No big.”

“No
big
? Stephan is holding the whole thing over my head! He's acting like I have this secret life or something.”

“So what's the big deal if he says you're gay? We know it's not—”

“You
do
know about Megan's brother, right?” Ellen asked.

Hazel shook her head, looking to Megan. All the air seemed to go out of the room.

“My brother is gay,” Megan filled in, her chin wobbling. “When he was in high school, a bunch of guys beat him up. They hurt him pretty bad, too. He filed charges, and everyone in the school knew about it. So now, when people hear things about me, they automatically assume that it's true.”

“That's messed up,” Hazel replied.

“No shit,” Megan spat.

“But why does Stephan pick on you? Why you and not Carolyn?” Hazel asked.

“Because Stephan wasn't dating Carolyn. He didn't feel betrayed by her,” Megan said.

“Plus, it doesn't bother her,” Ellen cut in. “She doesn't give them the satisfaction. So they leave her alone.”

“So all this—tonight—it's my fault?” Megan sniffed. “It's my fault your boyfriend totally dissed me?”

Her shoulders sagged. Hazel knew she was
really
wasted.

“I need some Kleenex.”

Ellen leaned over toward the white wicker nightstand and grabbed a box of tissues. She handed it to Megan, who blew her nose.

“Sylvia doesn't understand how much it hurts me,” Megan said, frowning. “She could put a stop to it. But she doesn't. And she picks on me. Do you think she picks on me?”

Yes
. Hazel considered.
I think she picks on all of you.

“You guys are old friends,” Hazel said. “Sometimes old friends can hurt each other the way new friends can't.”

Megan smiled through her misery. “You're a new friend.”

“Yeah.”

“I think you're a good friend.” Megan wiped her nose. Hazel reached over and gave her a hug. When they pulled apart, Megan asked, “Do I have any eye makeup left?”

“Not really.” They laughed.

“Brandon should have defended you,” Ellen said.

Megan nodded. “Yeah. Instead he laughed. That ass. He hasn't changed a bit.”

Ellen looked down at her hands.

The door opened and Thom McDonald, a guy with a lot of piercings, poked his head in the room. “There's a call for you.” He held out a portable to Ellen.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. She took the phone and rushed through a door to the left of her bed, closing it behind herself.

Hazel looked questioningly at Megan, who shrugged and blew her nose again.

After a few minutes, Ellen returned. Her face was slack, her eyes huge. “It was my dad. I think he heard all the noise in the background. He's going to kill me.”

“He didn't know about the party?” Hazel asked.

Ellen looked at her like she was insane. “Of course not. He'd have said no. But Sylvia wouldn't drop it.” She started biting at her cuticle, pacing beside the bed. “He called to say he'll be gone an extra day. He's on a business trip.”

“Don't tell Sylvia,” Megan advised. “She'll make you have another party.”

Ellen nodded thoughtfully. She turned to Megan. “Meggers, I'm sorry. I should have stood up for you better. I should have told Brandon he was a jerk.”

“Oh, that's okay.” Megan glared at her, picking up Monkey Boy's arm and giving it a shake. “After all, there was a guy involved, right?”

“Yeah, but we're PLDs,” Ellen replied. “We stand up for each other. We're friends till the end.”

Hazel gave a bitter smirk. She had believed that too. Sylvia had convinced her. But her picture of Sylvia was changing by the minute.

The bedroom door opened again.
Speak of the devil
, Hazel thought as Sylvia strode in.

“That bastard,” she said. “We do not let guys treat any of us like that.
Any of us
.”

Ellen hung her head as if she were personally responsible for Brandon's bad behavior.

“Yeah,” Megan said. “Brandon totally dissed me, and she and Hazel just stood there.”

“He's a jerk,” Sylvia went on. She turned to Ellen. “You need to think about letting a guy like that get close to you.”

“Everyone was drinking,” Hazel said evenly.

She stared meaningfully at Ellen, trying to make her aware. Sylvia had another agenda, and it had nothing to do with protecting anyone but herself.

 

INSTANT MESSAGE

YRSECRETPAL2PURPLEHAZE: U slut. Some1 should stab u 4 real. Cuz ur a total ho & u deserve 2 die.

 

“We all got the same message,” Sylvia said over the four-way connection. “‘You slut…stab you for real…you deserve to die.'”

“It wasn't just the one IM,” Hazel replied. “I've also been getting text messages and phone calls. Cell phone calls.”

“Me too,” said Megan.

“Me three,” Ellen added.

“It's Breona,” Sylvia said determinately.

“But Breona doesn't have our cell phone numbers,” Carolyn protested.

“Maybe she snooped around to get them,” Sylvia sneered. “It would be just like her. She could have given the numbers to everyone she knows. Which is why I specifically asked you not to give it to anyone but us, Haze.”

“I just gave it to Matty,” Hazel replied.

“Matty seems very nice,” Ellen said softly. “We can trust him.”

“And we can all trust
your
taste in guys,” Megan shot back. “Maybe Brandon pulled all this crap.”

“Megan, don't say that!” Ellen pleaded.

“Brandon
has
shown his true colors,” Sylvia decreed.

“I don't know,” Carolyn said. “There are a hundred girls in school who would love to scare the PLDs. We're envied. That makes us targets.”

“Are you sure it's not one of you,
mes petites
?” Sylvia hissed. “Because if it is, I am not amused. It needs to stop.
Now
.”

“D
o you guys mind if I eat with him today?” Hazel asked. She stood facing Sylvia.

This was a total break with PLD tradition, and she wasn't sure how the others would respond. But she needed some air—some time away from the group. Matty was the perfect antidote.

“Did something happen to your scrunchie?” Sylvia asked, squinting at Hazel's ponytail. “It's, like, faded or something.”

Hazel's stomach tightened. It was her replacement scrunchie, and she'd had it for weeks. No one had said anything about it until now.

Sylvia turned to Megan. “Did you give her a bad scrunchie?”

Megan, who had been devouring a turkey sandwich, froze in mid-chew and said around her food, “What, bad? It was the only extra one we had.”

“Don't talk with your mouth full.” Sylvia made a motion of opening and closing her fingers like a sock puppet. “It's déclassé.”

Megan blinked. Scowled. She looked at her plate and then at her sandwich, as if she were considering throwing it in a huff. Fuming, she swallowed and said, “I gave her the scrunchie
you
gave
me
.”

“God, are you having cramps?” Sylvia asked. “You're so cranky,
ma petite
. I just asked you a simple question.”

“I washed it,” Hazel jumped in.

“Oh.” Sylvia scrutinized it. “In what, bleach?”

“I don't know. Whatever we use at home,” Hazel replied calmly.

“Well, what's done is done.” Sylvia nibbled on her salad and studied Hazel as she chewed. “So now, Mattise…I think we can make an exception for amour.” Her smile was generous and kind. “Go on and sit with him.”

“Thanks,” Hazel breathed, relieved to get away from Sylvia's scrutiny.

Her heart picked up speed as she walked to the table where Matty sat alone, waiting for the verdict. He looked wryly pleased as she came over to him, took off her backpack, and sat in the chair next to his.

“So the queen bee gave you time off for good behavior?” he drawled, taking her hand.

“I had to pay her a dollar,” Hazel said. When she saw that he believed her, she snickered at him.

“I'm going to go get some rolled tacos. Want anything?”

“Yeah, I want something, but it's not on the menu.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “When you get back, let's talk about homecoming, okay?”

Homecoming?
Oh my God!
It was only a week away, so that had to mean…

Hazel maintained. “Okay.”

She could feel his gaze on her as she headed for the serving area. Sylvia gave her an encouraging nod, looking genuinely pleased for her.

You have no idea!
Hazel wanted to tell her.

Homecoming! She wondered what to wear. She wondered where she'd get the money to buy a dress. She had finally paid off the phone. Maybe she'd be able to afford something nice.

“Rolled tacos with guacamole,” she told the cafeteria worker, a wizened Asian woman with the requisite hairnet.

“Chicken or beef?” the woman asked, grabbing a plastic plate and a pair of tongs as she ranged over a large metal tray.

“Chicken, and—”

“Ellen, just listen!” Hazel turned. It was Brandon, shouting, causing a commotion.

Ellen had risen from her chair at the PLD table. Brandon was about a foot away from her, reaching out his arms. Sylvia looked placidly on.

“No,” Ellen responded. “It's over, Brandon. Just leave me alone.”

The cafeteria fell into dead silence as Ellen ran for the exit.

Hazel left the food line to intercept her. She caught up as Ellen disappeared inside the girls' room. Hazel entered and heard Ellen sobbing, locked in one of the stalls.

A freshman girl stood at the sink, applying her lipstick. Hazel gave her a look. “Can you go, please?”

The freshman frowned, obviously disappointed that she was not going to get to watch the fireworks. She touched the side of her mouth, popped her lipstick into a hobo bag, and sidled out. The door shut behind her.

Hazel checked below the doors of the other stalls. No feet. She and Ellen were alone.

“El? It's me,” Hazel said, knocking gently on the door. “What happened?”

“He…he's not good for me,” Ellen wept.

Hazel waited. Ellen kept crying; the toilet paper roll rattled. She blew her nose. “Sylvia convinced me. He…the PLDs come first.”

My God. Sylvia did this. She played her.

“No. No, Ellen,” Hazel argued. “Brandon really likes you. You don't have to choose.”

“He—he dissed Megan,” she sputtered. “If he doesn't respect my friends, he doesn't respect me.”

“Ellen, let me in,” Hazel said.

Ellen pushed back the stall lock and the door swung open. Her face was pure misery.

“I should have broken up with him that night when he didn't defend Megan,” Ellen said. “It would have shown my loyalty. But I was so
pathetic
—”

“No, it wasn't like that,” Hazel said. “Everyone was drinking. And Sylvia—”

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Sylvia strode in. She reached out her arms and gathered Ellen up.

“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed. “Poor little El. You'll do better. I promise you. Remember, El, we train people how to treat us.” She pursed her lips sadly and looked at Hazel. “Right?”

“Right,” Hazel said slowly.

 

Ellen went to the nurse, gave the standard girl excuse that she had cramps, and went home. She turned down Hazel's offer to come over.

“I just need some downtime,” she said on her cell. “But thanks.”

After school, Sylvia told the others she wanted to watch football practice, so they went up into the bleachers on the opposite side of the field from Breona and the cheerleading squad.

“Go, Brookhaven, uh, uh, uh!” the cheerleaders chanted.

“They are such total sluts,” Megan muttered.

Hazel wanted to say something to them all about Ellen and Brandon, but she wasn't sure how to broach the subject. She couldn't believe that Sylvia would be so underhanded. Especially after preaching about their fellow PLDs coming first.

Coach Marano blew his whistle and the team ran through a play. The boys rammed into each other with such brutal force that it made Hazel wince. Brandon was really slamming into the other guys. He was also ignoring the girls up in the bleachers.

I don't blame him,
she thought.

“Football is a savage, weird sport,” Carolyn declared.

“Plus, boring,” Megan said, yawning.

“
Mes petites,
be polite,” Sylvia admonished them.

Meanwhile, the cheerleaders were making a pyramid, with Breona at the top.

Hazel watched, transfixed. Who was
really
the bad guy here? Sylvia or Breona? They both seemed so self-centered. It was hard to tell.

“Do you have any lip gloss?” Megan asked.

“Hold on.” Hazel reached into her pack, found her tiny metallic purse, and unzipped it.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Hazel's attention was yanked back to the field as Brandon shouted at Matty. He was holding his jaw. Matty held his fist as if he had just hit him.

“Oh my God!” Sylvia cried.

As Matty lunged for Brandon, Josh and another player grabbed his arms. Coach Marano stomped toward them, blowing his whistle, bellowing for them to break it up.

“You are dead!” Matty shouted at Brandon, struggling to get free.

“Come on, man, don't be such a wuss,” Brandon taunted back.

“You try that again and I will
kill
you!” Matty shouted again.

Stephan came up beside Brandon and hollered to Matty, “Chill, Vardeman, it's a game! Don't get your panties in a bunch.”

Matty took a swipe at Stephan, who narrowly ducked away.

“Hey!” Coach Marano stepped between them. He squared off against Matty, getting in his face. “What's going on?”

“He clipped me!” Matty shouted. “I told him I have a bad knee, and he—”

“No way!” Brandon yelled. “He just hauled off and punched me, Coach! For no good reason!”

“You tried to break my kneecap!” Matty lunged at Brandon. Coach Marano held him back. Matty threw his body back and forth, pulling his left arm free. His features were so contorted with rage, he looked like someone Hazel had never seen before.

It was confusing. And a little frightening.

Matty made another fist and the coach bellowed, “You touch anybody else and you are out of this school, Vardeman!”

“My God. He is really losing it,” Sylvia said. “Hazel, your boyfriend is acting like a total lunatic.”

“No,” Hazel replied. “Something happened to his knee. And Brandon and Stephan are ganging up on him.”

“He looks like he's having a freak-out,” Carolyn said, making a face. “That's what I call serious anger-management issues.”

“I don't know, honey. I wouldn't want find myself alone with a guy like that.” Sylvia shook her head. “He's acting like a wild animal.”

The coach ordered Matty off the field. As he left, he turned to Brandon. “This is not over!”

“Let's go,” Sylvia suggested, rising.
“Allez.”

Hazel rose reluctantly and the PLDs filed out of the stands. Hazel gazed over to where Matty was sitting on the benches. He gave her a pleading look. She shrugged and followed the others.

 

They were due at Charlie's in an hour. Sylvia had ordered an emergency soiree—just the PLDs. No one was going to the game now.

When Hazel got to the Pollins house, Ellen was there—already on duty.

Her eyes were swollen from crying; she barely listened as everyone discussed Matty's
outré
lapse of self-control.

“I thought he was going to tear Brandon apart,” Sylvia said as they waited in the kitchen for their microwave popcorn. “Didn't you, Haze?”

Hazel took a deep breath.

Ellen turned away, pouring a glass of wine. Her shoulders were tight, her movements stiff and unreal.

Hazel knew Sylvia was trying to blow things out of proportion. She'd broken up Ellen and Brandon—and Hazel had the distinct feeling she was trying to do the same to her and Matty.

That was not going to happen. Hazel wasn't going to give in to Sylvia's little power trip. She just needed to figure out the best way to get Sylvia to lay off.

The microwave dinged and Sylvia pulled open the door. She plucked the hissing bag out by its top and continued. “We're going to have to keep an eye on him,
mes petites
. Better to find out if there's something wrong with him now than to get your heart broken later.” She gestured silently toward Ellen, who still had her back turned.

“Hate to agree,” Carolyn murmured as she got the popcorn bowl out of the cabinet.

Megan nodded. “Sylvia's right.” She placed a comforting hand on Hazel's arm. “It happened to me—and it happened to Ellen.”

“You need wine,” Sylvia said, in the same voice someone at a funeral would use to comfort the bereaved. Hazel had to struggle to keep from rolling her eyes.

Sylvia poured a glass and handed it over with a sigh. “Oh, Scrunchie Girl, so stressed. Don't give up on him yet. We don't know what happened. He may have had a perfectly good reason for trying to beat up Brandon in the middle of football practice.” She smiled broadly and changed the topic. “Now, let's talk about homecoming. There's lots of planning to do and—”

“I'm not going,” Ellen cut in.

“What? What do you mean,
ma cherie
?” Sylvia chirped.

“I'm not going to homecoming,” Ellen growled. “Brandon is up for king and I can't deal.”

Sylvia shook her head. “Well…fine. I can set you up with a job that night, if that's what you really want.”

“Whatever,” Ellen mumbled, leaving the room.

Megan raised her brows. “Someone's in a pissy mood.”

“She's just upset,” Sylvia snapped, turning her laser glare on Megan. “If you ever felt the way she did—
about a boy
—you would know what she's going through.”

Megan's mouth dropped open; she blanched as if Sylvia had just slapped her.

Hazel couldn't suppress a bitter smirk. There it was. Sylvia's way of keeping everyone in line. No one's secrets were off-limits. At least, not to her.