Little Lies

“It’s fine. I’m not hurt; Lavender is,” I tell her.

“Did those girls do this to you?” Miss Garrett crouches down beside us.

Lavender shakes her head, eyes darting between me and Miss Garrett.

“It happens when she’s really upset; she can’t control it,” I explain, encouraging Lavender to open her hands.

Miss Garrett’s hand comes up to cover her mouth, but she quickly schools her expression and clears her throat, her eyes soft. “We need to get you to the office so we can get those looked at, Lavender.”

Now that the panic is over, for both me and Lavender, I can see how big the problems are here, and now I’m worried about a lot more than hockey practice and my dad being mad that I lied. I’m worried about Lavender getting bullied even worse because of this, and what Queenie is going to say when I have therapy later this week. But I shove that into the box in my head and lock it for now. I’ll have lots of time to worry later.

“Can we clean up her hands first, please, Miss Garrett?”

She purses her lips and nods slowly. “Of course.” I can tell she’s unsure about leaving me alone with Lavender, but she pushes to a stand. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she’s gone, I turn back to Lavender. “Has it been this bad for a while? And don’t lie; I’ll know if you’re not telling the truth.”

She licks her lips, her tongue running over the scar on the bottom one. “I was handling it okay until today,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“You’re going to be in trouble.”

I shrug, like it doesn’t matter. She’s already upset enough. She doesn’t need more things to worry about. So I lie, not wanting to send her back into the panic. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Miss Garrett returns with damp paper towels, and we clean up Lavender’s hands and the side of my neck. We’re on our way to the front office when it finally registers that my phone is buzzing in my pocket. I’m scared to answer it, aware my dad is going to freak out. I don’t have a chance to figure out what I’m going to tell him, though, because he’s in the office when we arrive.

My dad is a really big guy. He’s over six feet tall with wide shoulders. He’s mostly calm, and he doesn’t get mad about much. My mom calls him her big teddy bear. It’s kinda gross the way they are with each other. But my mom is right; my dad is soft, and the second he sees Lavender, head bowed, shoulders curled in like she’s trying to hide herself from the world, the anger drains from his face and empathy settles in its place.

Sometimes it bugs me how different my dad is about Lavender and my mom’s anxiety than he is mine.

His gaze shifts between Lavender and me as all the pieces come together, but it’s Miss Garrett he addresses. “What’s going on?”

Her smile is strained and questioning. “There was an incident, and Kody was trying to help.”

“Lavender, are you okay, honey?” my dad asks softly.

She wrings her hands and nods, peeking up at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want Kodiak to get in trouble.”

His face softens even more, and a sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. I don’t like the way it makes my stomach feel. “I know that, sweetheart.”

Miss Kay, the guidance counselor, appears in her office doorway, and she and Miss Garrett exchange a look as Lavender wordlessly moves into her office. She glances over her shoulder once more, expression full of uncertainty.

I spend the next half hour in the principal’s office with my dad and Miss Garrett, explaining what happened. I don’t really know Lavender’s side of the story, but I tell them mine—how I know Courtney has been saying things to Lavender for a while, that I didn’t know how bad it was, and that I overheard them saying mean things to her when I found them trapping her in the prop room.

Eventually they ask me to have a seat in the office and wait while they talk to my dad. There are no devices allowed in the office, so I ask if I can use the bathroom. While I’m in there, I delete all the messages between Lavender and me. It’s going to cause me trouble, and there will be consequences, but I don’t really care at this point.

I have unanswered messages from Maverick too, but I leave them alone for now. He’ll find out what happened eventually, and he’s still on the ice, where I should be right now. I splash cold water on my face and try to calm my breathing. There isn’t anything I can do about it now, so I try not to focus on all the what-ifs.