Bird Song (21 page)

Without moving he answered that it was nearly five.
 
I lifted my head with a jerk, my eyes round and large at the announcement.
 
“Dad!
 
Janice!
 
They don’t know!
 
They’re going to wonder why I’m not home yet, or why I haven’t called—oh this isn’t going to sit well with them.
 
I’ve got to call them,” I cried, and stood up, my body turning around in circles as I tried to figure out where the payphones would be located.

As if on cue, seven cell phones of varying makes, models and sizes appeared in front of me, all attached to the hands of their owners:
 
Five Kim brothers, one boyfriend, and one best-friend.
 
“Well…um,” I struggled as I looked at each one like they were foreign objects, the business of how to use them fleeing from my mind in just that moment.

“What are you, some kind of cell phone magnet?” a voice asked behind me.
 
I turned around to see Stacy being wheeled out of the emergency room in a rickety wheelchair, Lark standing alongside, Stacy’s father holding the handles and pushing.
 

“You’re out!” I shouted, reaching my arms out to hug her.

“Wow,” she gasped as I squeezed her, my arms wrapped awkwardly around her and part of the wheelchair.
 
“You’ve gotten pretty good at that.
 
Now let go so I can breathe again.”

“Oops,” I squeaked, quickly loosening my arms and pulling them behind me.
 
“So…what’s the verdict?”

She pointed to the mass of gauze and tape that covered a third of her forehead as she answered.
 
“I’ve got three stitches,
three
, and I didn’t need any anesthetic.
 
They marveled at my high pain threshold.
 
I’ll probably be a legend here.”
 
She took in the five pairs of rolling eyes and rolled hers in return.
 

“Anyway, the bleeding took a while to stop and I’ve got a nice concussion to boot, but other than that I’m fine.
 
They insisted I be pushed out in a wheelchair—some stupid hospital policy that they wouldn’t ignore—otherwise I’d have walked out on my own.
 
I’m starving because they wouldn’t give me anything to eat, and I’m so ready to kick Erica Hamilton’s ass.”

She turned her head to glare at Graham as she continued.
 
“I don’t know what you ever saw in her, but whatever it was, if it was in her face it’ll be gone come Monday.”

“Stacy,” her father chastised, but his gaze was fixed on Graham.
 
The look wasn’t hard to read.
 
It said quite plainly that Graham wasn’t good enough for his daughter.
 
Especially if his ex-girlfriend was attacking her and sending her to the hospital; Graham looked down at his feet and said nothing.

“What?
 
I’m not going to do much damage, but Bimbo Barbie is definitely not going to be going out on many dates when I’m through with her.
 
Who’d have thought I’d be taken down by that walking peroxide bottle?” Stacy grunted, ignoring her mother’s hissing and her father’s groan of disapproval.

Sean laughed at his sister’s comments.
 
“Maybe hanging out with the freak and the
hottie
threw off your sense of equilibrium.”

It didn’t take much to figure out who the “freak” and who the “
hottie
” was, and I genuinely wasn’t bothered by it, but it took even less for him to quickly blurt out an apology as both Robert and Graham released menacing growls at the insult.
 
What did bother me was that I knew that Graham had been more insulted by the quip referring to me, rather than it being an insult to Stacy.
 
It shouldn’t have been that way.

“Oh please,” Stacy laughed.
 
“We’re all freaks.
 
But at least we can get dates, unlike you, Casa-no-game.”

This time, the laughter spread—with the exception of the parents…and Sean—and the tension that had been thicker than wool was finally lifted.

Lark helped Stacy to stand, her face still filled with concern, though not to the same degree as it had been at the school.
 
“Are you sure you want to go home?
 
You could stay here for the night, you know.
 
The doctor did recommend it.”

Stacy jeered at the suggestion.
 
“I’m not an invalid.
 
It’s just a stupid concussion.
 
I’m going to be fine and I’m definitely going to school tomorrow; I don’t care what that man in the white coat says, I’m not staying home.”

Stacy’s mother launched into a rant entirely in Korean, with words that I was certain weren’t meant for innocent ears, judging by the wincing and cringing that came from her sons, as well as by the way Lark’s perfect upturned mouth shaped itself into a perfect line.

The yelling continued as everyone walked out of the waiting room towards the elevators that would take us to the parking structure.
 
I stood with my hand firmly clasped in Robert’s, frequently turning my head to look behind me at Graham, whose face held a wide mix of emotions, the least of which was amusement.

“Are you going to follow Stacy home?” I whispered to him, and frowned when he shook his head.
 
“Why not?”

Seven heads whipped around, seven pairs of eyes all glaring at me, as though I had committed some heinous offense for even bringing the subject up—another faux pas.

“Grace, just go home, okay?
 
I’ll be alright.
 
In fact, Lark, I think you should catch a ride home with Graham while I deal with…this,” Stacy said with frustration.
 
“I’ll call you guys later on tonight.”

That short, seven word sentence set off another barrage of foreign words as the Kim family entered the elevator, completely filling it to capacity.
 
As the doors shut, I felt an urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of it all.
 

“What floor are you parked on?” Graham asked Robert, breaking the unnecessary silence that remained long after the elevator doors had closed.

“Third.
 
You?”

“Second.”

The ding of the bell announcing an empty car quickly ended that short-lived conversation, and the four of us piled into the elevator.
 
I pushed each respective floor button and waited in silence as the elevator lurched up.
 
It remained quiet until we came to a stumbling halt and the doors dinged open again.

“I’ll see you at home, Grace,” Graham said softly as Lark filed past him, her walking stick conspicuously absent from her hands.
 
It was the first time I had noticed it was missing, and I prayed that it wasn’t absent on purpose.
 
My thoughts must have been heard, because I soon recognized the clattering sound of her folding stick opening up.

“Okay,” I replied, lifting my hand to wave good-bye but having the doors shut on us before he could see.

“So what gives?” I asked as the elevator started rising again.

“What do you mean?”

I turned to face Robert, my arms folded across my chest, and cocked my head to the side.
 
“Why didn’t you complain or argue or something when Stacy suggested that Graham take Lark home?”

“
Ahh
.
 
What would be the point in complaining?
 
If I had, Stacy and her family would have gotten the impression that I didn’t trust Graham around my sister, and vice versa, and that wouldn’t have helped Stacy out now would it?
 
You saw how they looked at Graham.
 
He’s popular in school, and pretty much what every parent hopes their daughter brings home to date.
 
But…”

“Not with Stacy’s family,” I finished for him.

“Exactly.
 
He’s not what they expect for her.
 
If I had given them any reason to doubt him even more, it would have just made things harder for Stacy, and that’s not what she needs right now.”

I followed him as we walked out of the elevator, our hands still joined.
 
“Thank you.”

He stopped and looked at me, his pewter eyes turning molten with pleasure.
 
“You’re very welcome, although I don’t know what it was that I did.”

I stood up on my toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
 
“For at least pretending that Graham is trustworthy with your sister.”

He laughed softly, brushing the back of his fingers against my cheek.
 
“I do trust him, Grace.
 
Don’t think that I don’t.
 
But…well, you saw how Stacy’s brothers were with him; I feel the same way, only I can read his thoughts,” he explained as he leaned down, his intent quite clear.

I laughed as comprehension finally sunk in.
 
I lifted my head up to accept his kiss and far too quickly, we were once again walking towards his motorcycle.
 
“What’s going to happen to Erica?
 
And Lark?”

“Actually, I have a feeling that you’re going to be a part of that equation as well, so I’d start wondering what’s going to happen to you, too.”

He helped me climb onto the seat behind him as I allowed his words to sink in.
 
“What do you mean, I’m part of the equation?”

Over the roar of the engine, his thoughts filled my mind, settling into every empty crevice.
 
You’ve received part of the blame for Erica’s behavior.
 
Your dad’s probably already received a phone call from Vice-Principal Kenner, so be prepared to tell them nothing but the truth when I get you home.

I gulped at that bit of news.
 
After having a fairly boring and overall quiet high school career, my senior year was quickly turning into something that I wouldn’t have believed had someone predicted it just a few months ago.
 
Dad had received not one, but two phone calls from the school this year about me.
 
The first one because I had left school on the first day during lunch and hadn’t returned.
 
Who knew what this one detailed.

As Robert pulled into my driveway, the front door flew open and Dad came rushing out.
 
“Are you okay?
 
What happened?”
 
He reached his arms out and pulled me off the bike, his hug nearly squeezing all of the breath out of me.

“D-Dad…what’s the matter?”

He pulled away and looked me over, his eyes red from…crying?
 
“The school called…they said that someone had been knocked unconscious and that she’d been taken to one of the emergency rooms.
 
They didn’t tell me who, or where.
 
I called every single one asking if you had been admitted, and they all said no.
 
Janice is on the phone with one of her friends who’s a supervisor at the hospital in Licking; they were trying to find out if you had been admitted under a different name.”

I heard Robert walk up behind me, and I leaned back to put some distance between Dad and me.
 
“Dad, I’m okay.
 
Stacy was the one who was hurt.”

“Stacy?
 
But…I don’t understand.
 
The vice-principal called-”

I held up my hand to quiet him.
 
“Dad, apparently Vice-Principal Kenner thinks that if Erica hates someone enough to hurt her, it must have been me.
 
Erica pushed Stacy while she and Lark were coming back from the restroom; Stacy hit her head against the doorframe of the cafeteria.”
 
I continued with describing the entire ordeal, finishing just as Graham arrived.

“Is this all true?” Dad asked Graham as he walked up.

“What happened today?
 
Yeah, pretty much,” Graham replied.

Dad shook his head in disgust.
 
“I don’t know what you saw in her, Graham.
 
That’s some freakish behavior she displayed today.
 
You should be glad you’re rid of her.
 
You don’t need freaks like that in your life.”

I saw Graham’s mouth twitch, and I knew what he was thinking—it was my thought as well.
 
Robert concurred.
 
We waited until Dad announced he was going back inside to fill Janice in, and then we burst out into laughter.

“Can I tell her that your dad called her a freak?” Graham guffawed, his head thrown back in a full bodied laugh.

I nodded, too amused to do anything else.

As with all things high school, the incident between Stacy, Lark and Erica turned into a she said, she said battle for supremacy.
 
Erica’s crony
Becca
insisted that she had witnessed Stacy instigate the entire affair, although several people had already given statements that Erica had been completely alone when she pushed Stacy.
 
It wasn’t until I was called into the office during lunch that I learned the truth of school politics.