Bite Your Tongue

Detention

6:50 A.M.
Korinne;;


It had been exactly five days since Jimmy had dumped me, and contrary to my own predictions, I was relatively okay. I’d expected to feel like total shit, to not be able to function properly, but it had only taken about an hour or so of crying after school for me to feel normal again. Stevie had brought me some chocolate cake, Delia had brought me some dairy-free soy ice cream that was revolting—I told her I appreciated the gesture anyway—Elias had attempted to make me pizza, which resulted in him nearly burning down the house, and Maddie had offered to find or create a rumor about Jimmy and ruin his life, but surprisingly, I hadn’t really been in need of their help. I wasn’t devastated. Sure, I was kind of upset, but it wasn’t the overwhelming, Please-Excuse-Me-While-I-Kill-Myself feeling I’d gotten after Brian had dumped me. I didn’t get into the shower and try to burn my skin off with the hot water. I didn’t start looking at household appliances and judging how helpful they would be if I wanted to commit suicide. I was just…okay.

Stevie kept texting me every few hours, asking if I really was, okay, and I knew she thought I was lying when I said that I felt fine. Sometimes I feared that I was somehow lying to myself, too, and that the inevitable breakdown was only hours or minutes or seconds away. But if it was, it was sneaking up on me like a ninja on its next victim—I couldn’t sense its approach at all. I’d actually tried thinking dangerous thoughts to put myself in a bad mood in the hopes of spurring some sort of misery over the breakup, but nothing had happened, and I’d just accepted the fact that I was fine with it. I knew I would have to give some things more thought later—like what Jimmy had said that I felt about Brian—but for the moment, I had bigger things to worry about.

It was Wednesday, which meant detention. And that meant spending an hour before school with Zoe, doing what was sure to be some mindless, soul-sucking task. I wasn’t really that worried about the detention anymore—I’d asked a few of my teachers about it, and all of them said that they highly doubted a college would turn me down because of one detention—but I was worried about the whole ‘spending time with Zoe’ part. Ever since she’d gotten me into trouble, she seemed to be trying her best to do it again, exhausting all of her resources in an attempt to make me miserable. None of her recent attempts had been successful, however. The teachers had now taken to ignoring her because of her random tendency to burst into tears in the middle of class and accuse everyone in the room of secretly plotting her demise. I’d hoped that her newfound reputation as the deranged pregnant girl would make our Web Design teacher reconsider our punishment, but Mrs. Robertson was true to her word.

I showed up outside her classroom early—thanks to a ride from Maddie, who’d dropped me off and gone back home to sleep for a bit more—and sat against the wall. I decided to use my time wisely and pulled out the math assignment I’d stayed up late trying to complete. With three cups of coffee in my system and super-shaky hands, I started to work. Mrs. Robertson arrived about ten minutes later and by then the last portion of my homework looked like it’d been written while riding a particularly overzealous horse. I made a mental note to re-copy it later if I had time and headed into the classroom.

“Good morning, Korinne,” Mrs. Robertson said.

“‘Morning.” I took my usual seat and looked at her expectantly.

“Do you know where Zoe is?”

Hopefully at the bottom of a rocky ravine, or something along those lines.

“Nope.”

“Oh. Well, since you’re here already, I’ll let you get started.” She opened the black messenger bag that was slung over her shoulder, removed a large pile of paper and a stapler, and set the items down on my desk. “These are the worksheets I’m going to be using in my classes next week. They’re just simple exercises with HTML and CSS. I want you to group the two different types of exercises and staple them together.”

“Okay. Is that all?”

“Yes, this should take you the entire hour, even with Zoe’s help. If for some reason the two of you finish early, though, you can read the next chapter in the textbook and take notes.” Mrs. Robertson dropped her bag onto the floor near her desk. “I have some things to go and take care of—I trust you’ll fill Zoe in once she arrives?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her what to do.”

“Good,” she said, before bustling out the door.

Once she was gone, I sighed and got to work. I’d stapled about ten of the worksheets by the time Zoe decided to grace me with her presence. She poked her perfect blonde head into the room and cleared her throat a few times.

“What?” I asked irritably, looking up at her.

“Is Mrs. Robertson going to be mad that I’m late?”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my desk. “I don’t know, Zoe. She told us to be here at seven and it’s now seven fifteen. Use your imagination.”

Zoe mumbled a few unpleasant things that I cheerfully ignored and took a seat at the desk across from me. Even at this early hour and even wearing a pair of unattractive maternity pants, she was her typical gorgeous self. I wanted to throw the stapler at her.

“So,” she said. “What are we doing?”

Yawning, I slid half of the papers in her direction. “Staple these. One HTML worksheet and one CSS worksheet in each group.”

“Where am I supposed to get another stapler?”

“Not my problem.”

Zoe got up and searched the room, returning a minute later with a stapler in hand.

“Well, we’re especially chatty today, aren’t we?”

“It’s too early in the morning for conversation.”

She scoffed and reached for some worksheets.

“Please. If I can handle being up this early, so can you. I’m pregnant, Korinne.”

I stapled two worksheets with a little more force than was necessary.

“Yes, I know,” I said through gritted teeth. I’m pretty sure every single fucking person on the West coast knows, actually.

“It’s actually not as bad as you hear. I’m pretty much over my morning sickness, and I felt her move for the first time yesterday!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so I stayed silent and kept stapling. Zoe, however, kept going on and on about how awesome being pregnant was. It quickly got annoying. Every time she mentioned going to the doctor or shopping for maternity clothes or baby clothes I felt like blowing chunks all over the room. I knew she was just doing it to piss me off, and I was determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’d gotten to me, but eventually I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“And we haven’t decided on a name yet, but I’m really starting to like the sound of Victoria. Maybe Tori or Vicky for short. And—”

“Shut up,” I spat. “Just shut up.”

Zoe raised her eyebrows.

“That was rude.”

“Yeah, well, so is you babbling on about your pregnancy to people who don’t give a flying fuck.”

I resumed stapling worksheets, focusing hard.

“I just thought you’d enjoy hearing about my baby. Since, you know, you’re still in love with the father, after all.”

Shit. Fuck. Every bad word I knew of ran through my head. How the hell had she found out about that? And more importantly, why had she waited until now to torture me with the information? She could easily have told bunches of people in an effort to humiliate me. Or worse, she could have told Brian. Then I would definitely be humiliated beyond all belief—there was no way he felt the same about me.

Careful to keep my face devoid of emotion, I looked over at her. I wasn’t surprised to see her smirking at me.

“Who told you that?” I asked lightly.

“Oh, I have my sources,” she replied, just as lightly. “And they say that Jimmy broke up with you because he could tell you were still in love with Brian.”

She stood up, slowly made her way over to my chair, and put a hand on my shoulder. If it had been anyone else, the gesture would have been comforting, but coming from Zoe, it felt like being marked by the devil.

“Are you okay, Korinne? I know breakups can be tough.”

I twisted away from her. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because if I were you, I’d want to kill myself. I wouldn’t be able to stand living in a body that was too repulsive for anyone to ever find attractive. I couldn’t handle being dumped yet again.”

“Fuck off, Zoe,” I snapped, giving her most threatening look that I could possibly produce.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave you alone until you tell me how you’re feeling.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Fucking hell, you really are crazy.”

“I simply want to know how you’re doing. You’re still very important to Brian, and therefore you’re very important to me.”

A strange swelling sensation took place around my heart.

“Did…Did he say that I’m important to him?”

Zoe burst into maniacal laughter. “No, of course not! I was just trying to find out if you still liked him!”

My hand clenched into a fist around the stapler, and I wondered how much trouble I would get in if I tried to staple her eyelids to her face. I resisted the urge, though—I didn’t need another detention.

Abruptly, she stopped laughing. Her head tilted to the side, and she addressed me like she was addressing a toddler. ”Do you have any idea how pathetic it is to harbor feelings for Brian? I mean, really. He’s mine, Korinne. Nothing you do is ever going to change that.”

I tried my best to ignore her. I forced myself to think about the task I was doing and that task only—grab papers, place together, staple; grab papers, place together, staple.

“But if you want to be friends, I’d be happy with that. I don’t really have that many friends anymore, and who better to be friends with than the girl who’s freakishly obsessed with my boyfriend?”

Okay, that’s it.

“First of all, I am not obsessed with him. And second of all, I’d rather gnaw off every single one of my limbs than be friends with you. I don’t need you as a friend, anyway. I have my own.”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU STOLE THEM FROM ME!”

“I did not steal them—”

“YES YOU DID! YOU STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME!

“No, I didn’t—”

Zoe pushed her chair over near mine and gave me a violent shove. “Everything was fine until you showed up and stole Brian from me! He was mine! MINE! HE WAS ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!” she screeched.

I saw her rear her hand back and I threw myself to the ground. A second later there was a cracking noise as her hand connected with my computer and sent the monitor tumbling off of the desk. Something important-looking broke off and landed several inches away.

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!

This was ridiculous. With blood boiling in my veins, I got to my feet and got right in her face.

“You fucking psycho, I didn’t make you do anything!” I shouted.

Zoe stood up as well. “IF YOU DIDN’T EXIST THE WORLD WOULD BE A BETTER PLACE!

“I’m sure it would,” I agreed bitterly. “But stop shouting before I slap you. I refuse to get another detention for something that’s not my fault.”

DON’T THREATEN ME!

I’ll say whatever I want to you!

Her eyes adopted a dangerous, savage look—one that terrified me—and before I could move out of her way or do anything to protect myself, she shoved me again. Hard. I lost my balance and went stumbling backwards, tripping over my chair. As soon as I landed, I tried to get to my feet, but she soon stopped me with a swift kick to the stomach. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced in my entire life and all I wanted to do was lay there and cry, but I suddenly got so angry that I couldn’t see straight. I grabbed the closest object—a misplaced Calculus textbook—and headed for Zoe, feeling murderous.

Though she looked annoyed when she saw that I was no longer on the floor, her expression shifted into one of panic as she saw what I had in my hand. She backed up a few steps, looking terrified, and clutched protectively at her stomach. A sick mixture of revulsion and sympathy washed over me. I wanted to throw the book at her, wanted it so bad it hurt, but the terrified way in which she was looking at me forced me to think rationally. Yes, she was annoying as fuck. Yes, she was basically attempting to ruin my life. And yes, she was crazy and was probably at the bottom of the list of people who should be parents. But…the baby belonged to Brian, too, and despite my all-encompassing hate for Zoe, I couldn’t hit her. I just couldn’t.

Sighing, I dropped the book. To my horror, Zoe started to giggle.

“I knew you wouldn’t hit me,” she said. “Loser.”

She smirked and glanced at the clock.

“We still have about twenty minutes of detention left, but I have better ways to spend my time.” She looked around at our overturned chairs and my broken computer monitor. “You can clean this up, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed her bags and left, giggling again.

I simply stood there for a few seconds, pain radiating throughout my torso from where she’d kicked me, and slowly began hating myself for being so gullible. I couldn’t believe I’d given up a chance to take out some of my anger on her. Now that I thought about it, she probably didn’t even care that much about the kid, anyway. I had a feeling that if I’d continued advancing on her with the book, she would have fought back.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and sob and break things. I knew that bottling up my emotions was never a good thing, and that I’d probably end up taking my anger out on some unsuspecting person later but for now, I forced myself to suck it up and get the room back in order. I picked up the chairs and arranged my computer monitor so it looked normal before returning to stapling the papers, trying my best not to start crying. My ribs were really starting to hurt and I wanted to go see the nurse, but I also knew Mrs. Robertson would be back soon, so I focused hard on the rest of the unstapled worksheets, blinking back the tears that wanted so badly to fall from my eyes.

It felt like the world had just crashed down around me. In today’s battle, Zoe had won. She would always win, and there was nothing I could do about it.

+++

2:30 P.M.
Brian;;


“Brian, I swear to God, if you turn around one more time, I will trip you.”

I looked at Zacky and rolled my eyes. “No, you won’t. Because you’ll probably end up tripping yourself, too. Dumbass.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agreed, laughing.

I laughed, too, but it felt wrong. We continued walking around the school’s track, and I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling I was getting. I wanted to believe that it was just because of the severe thunderstorms that were forecast for today and tomorrow—whenever it rained, our Personal Fitness teacher liked to subject us to the extra special torture of the weight room that the football players used—but I knew it was because I had yet to see Korinne in class, and it was really starting to freak me out.

“I’m worried,” I said. “What if—”

“She’s fine.”

“It’s not like Korinne to miss class, Zacky!”

“I know, but what are you so worried about? Maybe she had to leave early for a doctor’s appointment or something.”

“Maybe.”

When we had finished with our warm up, we followed everyone else inside, and the actual torture of Personal Fitness class began. Today wasn’t so bad, though—we had a substitute teacher, and the only assignment left by our real teacher was to do something active, so Zacky and I headed over to an unused ping pong table and started absentmindedly hitting the ball to each other. It wasn’t a good enough distraction, though. I couldn’t stop myself from continuing to worry about Korinne.

I glanced around the gym for what felt like the billionth time, hoping she’d magically appear, before dejectedly hitting the ball back to Zacky.

“Maybe—”

“She’s fine, Brian,” he said dryly.

“But what if—”

“I will throw this ping pong racket at your face.”

Sighing, I gave up on trying to think of where she might have gone. Zacky and I continued hitting the ball back and forth for a few more minutes. And when I had finally pushed the worry to the back of my mind, I saw movement on the other, relatively unoccupied side of the gym. Korinne walked slowly through the door, holding a bag to her left side. She looked so ridiculously unhappy that I wanted to go sprinting across the gym and give her a hug. Instead, I watched as she made her way over to the sub and handed him a tardy slip and another piece of paper. I carried on watching as she then retreated onto the bleachers, wincing as she sat down.

“I told you she wasn’t fine!” I said vehemently.

Zacky walked around the table join me. “What do you mean? She’s here, isn’t she?”

I rolled my eyes again and shoved my racket into his arms. Before I could talk myself out of it, I headed over to where Korinne was sitting. She didn’t look up as I approached, and I assumed that she just didn’t hear me, but as I got closer it became clear that she definitely wasn’t in a good mood. She didn’t look like she felt like talking, either, but my curiosity was practically eating my brain, so I talked to her anyway.

“Hey,” I said. I took a seat next to her, and it was then that I noticed that she was putting a large bag of ice underneath her shirt and holding it to her side. “Holy shit, Korinne, what happened?”

She kept her eyes on the ground. “Nothing.”

“What’s the ice for?”

“Bruised my ribs.”

What? How? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I said I’m fine, Brian,” she snapped.

I looked at her for a long moment. I think we both knew that she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me what was bothering her. I thought we’d established that she could talk to me about anything. I racked my brains trying to think of a reason behind her odd behavior, and the only thing that came to mind was the possibility that Elias had started hitting her again. But that didn’t make any sense—from what I’d seen lately, he was beyond nice to her. And there was no one else I knew that would hurt her, unless…oh, fuck no. He wouldn’t.

“Korinne?” I said. I could feel rage building up inside me, ready to explode.

What?!” she said exasperatedly. “I said I’m fine. Jesus.”

She got to her feet, wincing, and started to walk away. I followed her, and her slow pace enabled me to block her path.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“No, I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “Did Jimmy do this to you, Korinne?”

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. A second later, though, her face crumpled, and she began to cry.

My heart nearly stopped. “Oh, fuck. It was Jimmy, wasn’t it?”

“No! It wasn’t him, okay? Just…leave me alone.”

The distraught look on her face tugged at my heartstrings and made me want to follow her, but another part of me was so angry that I had difficulty breathing regularly. I knew when Korinne was lying, and I knew she would lie about something like this because she’d lied about it before.

Jimmy was going to wish he’d never been born.