Breaking Walls (5 page)

Very little conversation took place in the half-hour that the four of us worked. The room was thick with tension, and I was beginning to feel it even from Lashell and Fletcher. I hated that they were getting the raw end of something that had nothing to do with them. I hated it, but what could I do? Gabe had taken it upon himself to set the mood, and the rest of us were just going along with it.

“That’s the last of it,” I finally said, emptying the final box. Fletcher took it and started flattening the cardboard.

“Nicely done, guys.” Lashell took a minute to sweep her gaze across the restocked gym. “Tomorrow’s a new day. I’m sure it’ll be another great success.”

“Let’s hope
.” Fletcher rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand before depositing the flattened box into a growing pile near the door. “I’m headed out. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Fletcher,” Lashell and I said in unison, and Gabe just nodded in his direction.

“I think, if that’s all for the night, then I’ll go ahead and make my way home, too,” I said, looking to my two RI leaders, but Lashell was the only one who met my stare.
Man
, I had to give him credit; when Gabe said he was going to back off, he really meant it. He wouldn’t even throw me the slightest glance. Giving up hope that he’d finally look up, I turned back to my other team leader. “Lashell, you still have the keys to lock up?”

“Yes
, ma’am.” She patted her front pocket to double-check. “Yup.”

“Okay,” I said, dropping my shoulder as I walked by them. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” she said, and then she lifted her chin to look at Gabe. Her stare was an obvious
say something
kind of hint, but just like he’d done with Fletcher, Gabe only nodded.

I guess
he’d decided to stick firmly to what he’d said back in the hallway on Wednesday. He was just going to carry on acting like what I’d said had never happened. Entertaining the idea of being with me—or even talking to me, apparently—was nothing more than bad exposure for him, the group, and even me. If he wasn’t going to say anything, though, I felt like it was my responsibility to make sure he knew that I was still open, ready, and willing to communicate with him. So I made the first move.

“Goodnight, Gabe,” I said, leaning just far enough down to steal his gaze from the floor. His head remained low, but he peeked up through the top of his eyes and studied me. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

Again, he just nodded and then diverted his stare back to the floor.

I closed my eyes for only a second, trying not to let his silence get the best of me. I couldn’t. He’d already made it perfectly clear that he was putting a wedge between us, so I knew better than to expect anything more. I wasn’t going to push him. I wouldn’t.

I turned out of the gym doors, stopping just as the cold air hit me. I heard Lashell say, “Oh, for crying out loud! You could at least talk to the poor girl. All she wanted was a simple
goodnight
!”

I grinned. That was Lashell, always looking out for everyone. And as much as I appreciated it, I didn’t need her to concern herself with my wellbeing; I was really okay with letting Gabe bide his time.

Chapter Three

I left school and went straight home to send a text to Carla, asking her to meet me for breakfast at Maurine’s Diner the next morning. Sharing the success of the clothing drive with Fletcher and having the idea for the dance finale to take credit for in the end, I was confident that things were right on course. All I had to do was steal five minutes of Carla’s time, take control of the finale fundraiser once and for all, and I’d finally have myself positioned in a really great spot to win the RI scholarship.

After sending the text, I fell asleep waiting on a response, one that I didn’t get until the following day. I woke up to a message reading
okay, sure
. Had I known how horribly things would go when we sat down together for our breakfast the next morning, though, I might’ve just preferred to skip it altogether.

“I’m keeping it.”

“I’m sorry,
what
?” I asked, feeling a heavy force knock the wind out of me. I struggled to find my breath. Listening to her declaration . . . it was like having my own worst fear realized.
Was she serious?

“I’m sorry, Mandy, but it’s not fair. You had your chance,” she said, bringing the notebook—
my
notebook!—closer to her chest. If she’d really meant what she said, that she was keeping it and had no plan to give it back, then I was at a complete loss as to why she’d even bothered bringing it in the first place. Was it just to taunt me? “You turned it over to me, remember? You said you were counting on me to make the dance a success, and then you handed me the reins. You gave up.”

“I didn’t
give up
,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice reasonably calm. “We were moving to LA, Carla. The only reason I turned the dance over to you was because I was supposed to be in California. But plans changed, and we’re not going anywhere. I thought you’d understand.”

“I do understand. I understand just fine,” she said. “You gave it to me, I accepted, and now it’s mine.”

She clutched the notebook to her chest even tighter as if she feared that I might actually reach across the table and rip it away from her. At one point I actually thought I might, but I was too shocked to act irrationally. I was still trying to digest the fact that someone I’d befriended and trusted could turn on me so quickly.

I’d always known that Carla was highly competitive, and there was no secret that she wanted the scholarship as badly as I did. But the sickening part was that I’d
trusted
her, and she turned right back around and slapped me in the face for doing so. I’d never seen it coming. I’d never witnessed anything but a nice, calm, nurturing side of Carla. And in spite of those irritating times she’d flirted with Gabe at our district events, I’d still respected her.

“Carla, please,” I pleaded. I slid a little closer to the table and steadied my breath. I didn’t want to fight with her. I didn’t see that there was any reason
to
fight. “I just thought that since the dance was my idea—”

“Listen,” she said, shrugging an unapologetic shoulder
, “I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind. You have no idea how much work I’ve put into this already. I went business-to-business picking up the donations this week, and I put in
a lot
of calls to find a company to donate the refreshments. I’ve picked up the invitations from the printer— ”

“But
I
designed
and
ordered the invitations, Carla,” I said, feeling my face grow warmer. “I secured every last one of the donations that you picked up. I arranged the band, I worked out a schedule with the administration office, and I researched the charities to donate the proceeds to. I did everything else.”

“The answer’s no,” she said.
“Plain and simple. You had your chance, and you gave up.”

“I didn’t
give up
,” I repeated myself. “I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“That’s really not my problem.”

Lips parted, I stared at her and searched my brain.

“I don’t get it,” I said under my breath. “You have the soup kitchen. You already have a leg-up on everyone in our district, so why are you taking this from me?”

“I need as many ideas as I can get my hands on.”

“But it wasn’t your idea.” I let a slow breath breeze between my half-parted lips, counted to ten, and closed my eyes. When I opened them again and looked back to her, she still
hadn’t moved a muscle. “
Why
? Why are you doing this?”

“It’s a competition, one I intend to win.”

“And you’re comfortable winning like this?” I swore I saw her gearing up to argue again—
you gave up!
—but she eventually closed her lips, so I quietly continued, “Carla, I’m not ignorant. I know you’re right; I passed it over to you. It was just my assumption that, because our plans changed and we’re staying in Sugar Creek, that you’d gladly hand it back.”

“And that’s where you went wrong,” she said. “Mandy, this isn’t personal. I’m not trying to be mean. I’m sorry if you think I am. It’s just not fair for you to give something away and then demand to have it back.”

“I’m not
demanding
anything. I’ve tried asking you nicely for days, and you’ve ducked corners to avoid even talking to me.”

She didn’t have a response to that, and rightfully so. She could sit there and argue that I’d given the notebook to her and that the dance was rightfully hers. She could even contend that I had no right to ask for it back, and to some extent, I understood her
reasoning. But she
couldn’t
argue that I’d demanded anything. I’d never done anything but ask politely. And even when she rudely refused my request, I still kept my cool.

I tried
to think of a way that we could compromise. If I couldn’t take on the biggest responsibility and execute the dance, then maybe she’d let me do some of the lighter lifting. All I knew was that I needed to get my hands in there and involved with the dance any way that I could. It was my only shot at winning. “Would you be willing to delegate some of the responsibilities? I still have a lot of ideas, and my sister’s focused a lot of attention on designing a layout and gathering up the decorations from the dance committee. I’m ready to go in and do whatever I can to make the finale a success, and if I can take some of the pressure off your shoulders, then I’m glad to do so however I can. So what do you say? Could we at least team up and do this together?”

“I really don’t think so, Mandy,” she said, crinkling her nose.

“Why not?”

“I don’t need the help. I have a good handle on everything, and I’d just be wasting precious time assigning you tasks that I could easily do alone. I have it under control.”

I was at a loss.

I didn’t know what I’d done to suddenly turn my teammate against me. We’d spent the first three weeks of the competition working seamlessly alongside one another. I thought she liked me. I thought we were friends
. . . or at the very least, friendly. So what had suddenly changed? She said she wasn’t trying to be mean, but the evil eye she peered at me said otherwise.

“I really don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose to ward off a migraine. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“
Really
, Mandy? You don’t?”

That time, and for the first time since we sat down, her tone was rich with malice.

“Honest to God, Carla. I don’t.”

“You don’t
really
need this dance.” She rolled her eyes. “It seems to me that the only thing standing between you and the scholarship is the sheer possibility that one of the other schools could beat us in the competition.”

“And why would you think that?” I asked, because everyone knew that Carla’s soup kitchen
, which had the potential to run permanently after the program ended, was the main highlight of Sugar Creek’s RI accomplishments. Seeing as it was her idea and she hadn’t missed a beat in executing the plans,
Carla
was the one everyone needed to look out for. How could she look at
me
as a threat?

“Gee, I don’t know,” she said as if she’d read my mind. “Have you ever thought to Google
attention whore ruins park re-opening
?” My jaw dropped. “We all saw it on TV, and everyone at school is still talking about it. The papers haven’t stopped running the articles. And I’ve gotta hand it to you, Mandy. That was some really great acting you did out there at the park. I mean, there’s nothing like a good sob story to drum up some pity and boost your chances. You guaranteed yourself that scholarship because everyone feels sorry for you: Lashell, Gabe, the whole freaking town of Sugar Creek.”

“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.” I tried to wipe the dumbfounded expression from my face, but I
stared at her wide-eyed and shocked. “If anything, I have
less
of a chance of winning
because
of what I did. And I didn’t do it for the attention. That’s the
last
thing I wanted,” I said, not that it mattered, because attention was all I’d gotten from it. “I meant everything I said to Gabe, and I dug my own grave by showing up at that park. There’s a great chance that I’ll
never
win now. But if there is, if there’s even a fraction of a chance that I
could
win, it’s
only
because of the dance. Without the finale fundraiser, then I really have nothing.”

“Then I guess you have nothing.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I need this.”

“And I don’t think you understand how little I care,” she said, sliding out of her seat. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you at school.”

“Carla, don’t walk away.
Please
.”