Truth about Truman School (16 page)

“Did you see what someone wrote on the We Hate Lilly page this morning?” Kylie asked in a low voice on the way to school on Wednesday.

“No. What?” Brianna asked, peering around her seat. Brianna and I had the middle seats in my mom's van. Kylie, Cassie, and Morgan sat behind us.

Kylie checked to make sure my mom couldn't hear us, then we all leaned our heads together and Kylie said in a low voice, “Someone made a list of ‘the top ten things you'd like to see happen to Lilly Clarke.' There are things on there like ‘fall down the stairs' and ‘choke on her own vomit' and ‘jump off a cliff!' ”

Cassie giggled. “Oh, wow,” she said. “I haven't read that yet.”

“Me, either,” Brianna said.

“You guys!” Kylie looked totally offended.

“What?” Cassie asked.

“Don't you find some of this just a little bit … disturbing? I mean, choking on her own vomit? Jumping off a cliff? She'd
die!
”

Everyone turned to me. Like they didn't know whether all this was disturbing or not.

I rolled my eyes. “You are so dramatic, Kylie!”

After all,
I
was the one who wrote the Top Ten Things You'd Like to See Happen to Lilly Clarke. But my friends didn't know that yet. I was going to tell them when they all agreed this was the piece that should win our We Hate Lilly contest. Wasn't Kylie the one who got all worked up about people finding out who we are when we had to give someone the five dollars? Well, fine. Let her figure out another solution then.

“It's not like whoever wrote that is planning to go over to Lilly's house and
kill
her or anything,” Brianna told Kylie.

“Yeah, it's just stuff someone wrote on a website,” Cassie added. “It doesn't mean anything.”

“Right,” Morgan nodded.

Kylie hugged her backpack to her chest. “I don't know,” she said softly. “How would you feel if you read stuff like that about you on a website?”

I was getting a little tired of Kylie's attitude. “Why are you so worried about Lilly all of a sudden?” I blurted. “Do you actually
like
her again? Do you want to be her friend?”

“No,” Kylie said, barely above a whisper.

“Good,” I said. Because what happened to Lilly could easily happen to Kylie, too. I hoped she realized that.

Mom kept trying to get me to talk on the way to school, but I just hugged my backpack to my chest and stared straight ahead out the front window.

“If you won't tell me what's wrong, how do you expect me to help you?” Mom asked.

I didn't expect her to help me.

“Please, Lilly. Talk to me.”

I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't talk to anyone.

My eyes welled with tears when Mom pulled into the carpool line at school, but I bit down on my lip and blinked them back.

Mom tried one more time. “What
is
it, honey?” she asked.

I got out of the car and slammed the door behind me. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to go someplace where there were no people. And no computers. Someplace where I could be totally alone and no one would ever find me.

I could tell my mom was watching me walk toward the school. I could feel her eyes on my back. So I kept walking until I finally saw her pull away from the curb. But then, instead of heading for the front door, I turned and walked casually alongside the buses. When I was sure no one was looking, I darted around the corner of the school. I inched along the side of the building and rounded another corner to the back of the building.

I'd never been back here before. I heard pans rattling and water running. I was back by the kitchen.

I crept around a dumpster and just about tripped over a pair of legs. The legs belonged to Sara Murphy, who was sitting in the dirt, her back pressed against the dumpster, reading a computer gaming magazine.

Great. “What are
you
doing here?” I asked.

She looked up at me, but didn't say anything. Big surprise.

“Why am I always running into you?”

Still nothing. No expression. Nothing.

“WHY DON'T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING?!”

Why was I even talking to a girl who never talks back? I had to get out of there. I darted through the hedge that separated school property from the neighborhood. Then I ran and ran and ran, until I couldn't run anymore.

Everyone wants to know why I don't talk. I think it's hilarious when people come up to me and ask me to my face, “Hey, freak girl! Why don't you ever talk?” If they know I DON'T TALK, why do they ask me a question and expect to get an answer?

First of all, I
do
talk. I talk at home. I talk to my online friends. I just don't talk at school.

Why? Because I decided not to back in sixth grade.

It all started when Lilly and those girls made fun of my eczema in gym every day. Yeah, my skin was kind of gross. It still is, I guess. But what am I supposed to say when people call me Fungus and they don't want to sit next to me and they don't want to touch me. It's not like I can make the eczema go away. So, I stopped saying anything. I couldn't control what the other kids said to me, but I
could
control what I said (or didn't say) back.

At first it was just those mean girls that I refused to talk to. But then I extended it to everyone. Even teachers. From the moment I stepped onto school property until the moment I left school property, I went silent. I didn't ask questions; I didn't answer questions. I didn't say a word. It was kind of empowering!

People get a little freaked out when you suddenly stop talking, though. I remember Mrs. Horton called me into her office and asked me what was wrong.

I didn't answer.

“Your teachers are concerned about you, Sara,” she said. “There's got to be a reason you stopped speaking.”

I just stared back at her. I didn't want to tell her the reason.

Mrs. Horton didn't know what to do with me, so she called my mother, and we all three had a conference. She told my mother I needed more help than the school could give me and that I should see a psychologist.

“My daughter doesn't need a psychologist,” my mother said. I'm not sure my mother believes in psychologists. “Sara talks just fine at home. If she's not talking here at school, maybe it's because she has nothing to say.”

All of a sudden, Mrs. Horton was the one who had nothing to say.

That was two years ago. By now most people have figured out that I DON'T TALK and they leave me alone. Which is way better than when they all picked on me. I much prefer being known as “the weird girl who doesn't talk” than “the weird girl with the disgusting skin problem.”

You may not realize this, but people who don't talk all the time are usually better observers and better listeners. For instance, I know everything that goes on at this school. I even know who milkandhoney is. But I'll never tell. I'm that weird girl who doesn't talk, remember?

Lilly's mom called while I was doing my nails. “Have you seen Lilly today?” she asked.

I held the phone against my ear with my shoulder. “No,” I said, as I painted my pinkie nail deep red. “I don't think she was in school, was she?” I knew perfectly well she wasn't in school.

“Well, I
thought
she was in school,” Lilly's mom said. “But then the school secretary called me at work around ten o'clock this morning and told me Lilly wasn't in school. I thought it was a mistake. I dropped Lilly off myself, so I know she was there. But then she didn't call in after school like she's supposed to, and she didn't answer the phone when I called home. So I got worried and came home. She's not here, Hayley. Her backpack's not here, either, so she hasn't been home. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

I blew on my nails. “No, I'm sorry,” I said. “I don't have any idea.”

Lilly's mom sighed. “Is there something going on with her that I should know about?”

This was not something I wanted to get into with Lilly's mom. “What do you mean?” I asked vaguely.

“I don't know … have you noticed any change in her behavior lately? It doesn't seem like you girls have been getting together quite as much lately. Has she been hanging out with some other kids? Maybe kids she shouldn't be hanging out with? Kids who could be getting her into trouble?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

“I really don't know who she's hanging out with these days, Mrs. Clarke,” I said.

“Are you sure? If you're trying to protect her, trying to keep her from getting into trouble—”

“I'm not,” I insisted, anxious to get her off the phone. “It's just … like you said. Lilly hasn't really been hanging out with us much lately.”

“Why not? Did you girls have a fight?”

I paused. “Not a fight, exactly … ” How do you tell someone's mom that their daughter just isn't making the cut anymore?

“I'm making you uncomfortable,” Lilly's mom said.

“Uh … yeah. Sort of.”

“I don't mean to. I just want to know where Lilly is.”

“Well, if I knew anything, Mrs. Clarke, I'd tell you. Really.”

Lilly's mom sighed again. “Okay. Well, thanks, Hayley.” And then she finally hung up.

I was freaking out! Lilly's
mom
called me. Apparently she'd called Hayley, too, but for some reason Hayley wasn't anywhere near as freaked out as I was.

“Did Lilly's mom tell you that Lilly's missing?” I shrieked into the phone. I'd called Hayley as soon as I hung up with Mrs. Clarke.

“She's not ‘missing,' ” Hayley said in a bored voice. “Lilly's mom just doesn't know where she is.”

“Neither does anyone else,” I said. “Did Lilly's mom ask you if there was anything going on between all of us, any reason we weren't all hanging out together anymore?”

“Yes, and I blew her off. Why? What did you tell her?”

“I didn't tell her anything,” I said. Which was true. “But what about … did you tell her about … ” I didn't quite know how to word it.

“Did I tell her about what?” Hayley asked impatiently.

“You know,” I said, my heart pounding. “About our website?”

“Of course not,” Hayley said. “Did you?”

“No. But what if she finds out about it? What if Lilly ran away or something because of our website?” If she did, we were going to be in major trouble.

“They can't prove that site is ours,” Hayley said. “Our names aren't on there anywhere. Besides, what about those other sites—the Lilly's Lesbian Diary and the Truth about Truman? Those are just as bad as ours, and we didn't have anything to do with those.”

I bit my lip. “Yeah, I guess,” I said. But that didn't make me feel any less freaked out.