Make You Beg

My eyes find Dax Monroe. He still has Amy Lane between his legs, but his eyes are on me. And just like last time I saw him, he winks, as if he knows I’m staring right at him.

A cold shiver runs up my spine, and fear cripples my legs, but I try not to let it show. They can’t break me. I won’t allow it. They’re harmless. They can’t hurt me. Not here. Not now. Too many witnesses. Honestly, my safest place will be at school. No, if they want to hurt me, they’re gonna do it when I’m alone, so I need to stick with a crowd.

It just makes me even more determined to take them all down. While lying in my bed last night, wide-awake, I stared up at my ceiling knowing that if justice will be served, it will have to be by me. I’m Brenda’s only hope. And every girl after her. How many had it been? He was one of my best friends. How did I not know what he was capable of? Did I miss the warning signs?

My brother was wrong about me coming back here for my senior year. It’s not a mistake. Everything happens for a reason. I’m going to do what no one else in this town took the time to do and get to the bottom of the truth. Prove to the world that Dax Monroe is a rapist and killer.

I push through the double doors and come to a stop. It feels different but looks the same. A glass case sits to the right filled with sports teams and trophies to show off what this school breeds—nothing but the best is their motto. The floor is black and white checkered with a blue W painted under my feet for WARRIORS. The Westbrook Warriors football team is ruthless. They train like they’re already NFL stars, and their life depends on the next win.

I hear kids start to enter behind me, so I make a beeline to the women’s bathroom and pretend to check my lipstick when I really need to collect my thoughts and get my head on straight. Suddenly, the door flies open, hitting the wall. I jump back when Jamie enters.

“What in the actual fuck, Hen?” she snaps, dropping her backpack to her designer heels.

I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s her and not them. “J …”

“You leave town for the summer and just show back up without warning?” She’s shouting. Her fists are flying. Jamie was my best girl friend. I say was because when I left Westbrook, I left everyone.

A girl I don’t recognize exits one of the stalls in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that reads eat me across her breasts. She looks over at Jamie and flips her bleach blond hair over her shoulder. “Girl, chill …”

Jamie grabs her by her extensions and shoves her out the door. “Get the fuck out.”

“Bitch …”

She slams the door in her face and locks it, caging me in here with her. “I … Hen … what the fuck?” she snaps, sucking in a breath. She’s pissed, and I understand that. I left her.

“I’m …” I start to apologize but stop myself. I shouldn’t have to apologize for anything. Shouldn’t she be telling me she’s sorry? Where the hell was she when I was testifying against one of my best friends? She sure as hell wasn’t cheering me on.

She tilts her head, narrowing her hazel eyes on me. “You left. You just fucking left.”

There’s nothing to say. She wouldn’t understand. She never took the guys’ side, but she never really proved she was on mine. And once I gave my statement to the police, everyone picked a side. They were all for Dax. His friends stood behind him, and all the sheep followed.

And like a dam breaking, her rigid body sags, the mask of anger she wears falls off her face, and her hazel eyes glisten with tears. She wraps her arms around me and yanks me to her. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” she whispers, holding me tight.

“I’ve missed you,” I admit with a sniffle, hating that I’m getting emotional. I’ve been too concerned about coming back to school with the guys that I forgot about her.

“God, I never thought I’d see you again.” She pulls away and rubs the tears from her face.

I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Did you know I was coming back?” It’s a long shot, considering she just jumped my ass, but I ask anyway. Maybe my brother said something to hers. They were best friends before they went off to different colleges, but I’m not sure how close they are now.

“No.” She playfully shoves my shoulder. “But I should have. Why didn’t you call and tell me?”