Delusion Road (39 page)

“So she’s working now,” continued Willa. “She took over your dad’s job. She used to do the accounting there years ago.”

Listening to her speak about the dealership, Keegan suddenly remembered what had been foremost in his mind before everything had fallen apart. “Did your dad get the contract for those vehicles?”

“No. After what happened at the cottage, Dad said to hell with it. Getting Wynn out of circulation was more important.

He felt relief sweep through him. “So you went to the police?”

“Someone beat me to it.”

“Who?”

“Raven and Bailey.”

“Raven? I don’t underst—”

“Wynn had assaulted her, too.”

Keegan was dumbfounded. “When?”

“A few days before school started. She likes to run really early in the morning to beat the heat, and she’d gone to the track at Memorial Park. Wynn was jogging there.”

“Did he—? Was she—?” He didn’t know how to ask the question, didn’t know if he should.

“She was bruised pretty badly—”

Keegan remembered the discoloration he’d seen on her arm the first day of school. That bastard.

“—but it’s a good thing she’s a runner.”

Keegan pictured that tiny figure outdistancing the hulk that was Wynn d’Entremont, and he imagined Wynn’s frustration in that moment. For a star athlete, he’d certainly underestimated both girls. “Why didn’t Raven report it before?”

“Yeah, we talked about that. She’d just moved into the area and didn’t know anybody. It’s hard enough being the new student
—you
know that, right?—but then she learned she was the only Aboriginal person in the whole school. She didn’t want to make her final year even harder by wearing a Victim sign on her back, too.”

“Doesn’t Canadian law protect the identities of people who’ve been assaulted?”

“Yes, but Wynn called her names that—” She paused. “Let’s just say he doesn’t have a very high opinion of First Nations people, so the attack would have been treated as a hate crime. That kind of thing gets lots of press, and in a place as white as Brookdale, Raven wouldn’t have to actually be named for people to know who she was.”

What had Bailey said that afternoon on the bus?
That’s not how I want to spend my senior year.
Keegan could understand that. And, apparently, so had Wynn. He’d known exactly which people he could prey on.

Yet they had gone ahead and reported Wynn after all. “So what made her and Bailey go to the police?”

“When Raven heard about Wynn’s imposter page nearly getting us killed, she confided in Bailey what he’d done to her. And then Bailey shared her story with Raven. They both decided they couldn’t stay silent any longer.”

Looking at the ceiling, Keegan found himself thinking the impossible. As horrible as that day on Delusion Road had been, some good had come of it after all. But his pleasure at this news was only momentary. “Is Wynn giving them a hard time?”

“No one’s seen him since the first morning back at school after—” He heard her voice catch, and he waited for her to continue. When she did, he could hear disgust in each word. “Get this. That douche came in wearing a big bandage on his head and telling everybody how he’d saved us all.”

“Where’s he been since then?”

“The school board’s anti-bullying policy meant his web page got him a two-week suspension. And now with these assault charges, there’s talk that he’s out for good.”

“His dad must’ve hired a hell of a defence team.”

“Probably,” said Willa. “He’ll need it. We’re hearing rumours there may be more charges involving girls in Halifax.”

“So you were right about there being others,” he murmured.

They were both silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was lighter. “You haven’t heard the best part.”

“What’s that?”

“Russell and Greg beat the crap out of him.”

“
What
?”

“Before Raven and Bailey went to the police, they told the guys what Wynn had done to them. They were waiting for him at school that morning, and they went apeshit on his ass.”

“Russell and Greg?” Keegan was astonished.

“Yeah, I know. Hard to believe, right? Mind you, it took both of them to do it, but they’re still pretty pleased with themselves.”

“Our Russell and Greg?” Whatever weariness Keegan had felt earlier vanished as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing.

“Yeah. According to Greg, Russell’s SDR is a thing of beauty.”

“SDR?”

“Stop, drop, and roll. He bowled Wynn over like a tenpin in the school corridor, and then both of them went postal on him. Caldwell stopped it before any bones got broken, but not before most of the senior class saw Wynn get shellacked.”

“Anything happen to Russell and Greg?”

“Two-week suspensions, but they’re treating it like a vacation from phys ed.”

Keegan grinned. Remembering the note on Jay’s card, he asked, “I’m guessing Todd and Jay didn’t jump in to help?”

“You guessed right.”

He thought about the rest of the League of Extraordinary Assholes. “Have you seen Britney and Celia?”

“They came by as soon as they heard what had happened.”

“And?”

“They apologized for everything. Hoped we could put it behind us.”

“You’ve been friends for a long time.”

“We were
together
for a long time, but I’m not sure that’s the same thing. I don’t think real friends would have turned their backs so fast.” Then, as if to change the subject again, she said, “Speaking of friends, did you get the cards? I sent a package that Forbes promised to deliver, but I’m thinking get well greetings probably aren’t an FBI priority.”

“He brought them with the phone I’m using,” replied Keegan. “I haven’t had a chance to look at all of them yet. There’s a ton.”

“That’s Mr. Richardson’s doing,” she said. “He’s the one who suggested it to the other seniors. He said it didn’t seem right for you to leave Brookdale without knowing you’ll be missed.”

And there it was. The opening he’d been looking for, hoping for during this whole conversation. “Do
you
?”

“What? Miss you?”

He let his silence answer for him.

“Keegan, how could you ask me that?”

He was suddenly embarrassed. “You didn’t say in your note.” In fact, she hadn’t said much of anything.

“I wanted you to
hear
me say it. That’s why I made Forbes get you the phone.”

Keegan grinned, imagining Forbes being
made
to do anything.
She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.

He heard her take a breath. “Keegan Fraser, or whatever the hell your real name is, I miss you. A lot.”

The sudden tightness in his chest had nothing to do with the surgery that had repaired his wound. “I miss you, too,” he said, imagining her with her phone to her ear, her blond hair framing her face, lifting slightly in an afternoon breeze. Was it afternoon where she was? He hoped so, hoped it was the end of the school day so they could talk as long as they wanted. “I was afraid that—” He began, then stopped, too embarrassed to finish that thought.

“Afraid that what?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Seriously? Forbes comes through with a phantom phone that you get to use only once and you’re clamming up on me?”

He groped for words. “It’s just,” he began, thinking of his initial response to the package she’d sent him, “after everything that happened, I was afraid you’d never want to speak to me again.” He lowered his voice. “You almost died because of me.”

“
Both
of us almost died, but not because of you. None of this was your fault.”

“But if I’d never shown up, you wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.”

Silence once again filled his receiver. Then, “If you’d never
shown up, Keegan, I wouldn’t have met this incredible guy who likes the same music as me, who gets a charge out of the same crazy personal ads, who—”

“You’re forgetting what a prick I was when we met. I totally misjudged you.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said. “I was a bitch.”

“Willa—”

“No, let me finish. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. Before you showed up, I’d gotten into the habit of taking things for granted. Taking
people
for granted. And there was so much that I believed was true but wasn’t. Like how I felt about Wynn. I imagined it was so much more than it was,
wanted
it to be simply because it made
sense
to be. I thought I had friends I could count on, no matter what happened. I thought my dad was this amazing guy who could magically make everything perfect, but all this time he was fighting to keep the dealership afloat while his marriage was crumbling. Nothing was what I thought it was, and you were there to help me pick up the pieces when everything began to fall apart. Do I wish things hadn’t turned into a shitstorm the way they did? Of course I do, but I don’t regret a second of the time we had together. Not one second. My only regret—” She stopped, and he thought he could hear a quaver in her voice, a struggle between her words and the emotion that fuelled them.

“What do you regret, Willa?” he prodded gently.

“That this is all we get,” she said, her voice catching, but she cleared her throat and tried again. “I was just getting to know you. Just getting to—”

This time Keegan didn’t prod her. It wasn’t necessary. He felt exactly the same.

“It isn’t fair,” she continued finally. “If I could find some way to convince Forbes to—”

“Willa Jaffrey!” a voice boomed. “Come with me at once!” Even over the phone, Keegan recognized the speaker: Mr. Caldwell.

“Yes, sir,” said Willa, “as soon as I—”

“I want your phone, young lady.”

“But I haven’t finished talk—”

“That’s not my concern. Mr. Shedrand tells me you took a call during his class and then walked out without his permission.”

“Yeah, I did, but he didn’t understand who—”

“What
I
understand, Ms. Jaffrey, is your complete disregard for the rules. Your phone, please.”

“But—”

“Your
phone
!”

Keegan listened to a brief muffled exchange, followed by a dial tone.

Christ! He brought Willa’s number up on the screen again and pressed Call, but nothing happened. The words now scrolling across the display read
No Service.

“W
e should start a club,” said Russell. He leaned back against the bench, his outstretched arms covering part of the words “Property of Brookdale Memorial Park.” Although it was the last week of September, temperature and humidex records were still being broken, so instead of a sweatshirt, Russell was wearing a T-shirt today, orange lettering across the front claiming
Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

Willa sat to his right, the humidity having played havoc with her hair, resurrecting its natural wave, but she hadn’t bothered straightening it. She kind of liked it the way it was. “Club?” she asked.

“For badasses,” he said. “Of course, you’re kind of in a class of your own, aren’t you? There can’t be too many people around who’ve beaten up a vice-principal.”

“I did
not
beat him up,” she insisted.

“Right,” grinned Greg, sitting on the other end of the bench. “He got that black eye and broken nose from walking into a door.”

Willa rolled her eyes. The truth about what had happened—Caldwell trying to grab her phone, the phone falling to the ground, both of them reaching for it, and the back of Willa’s
head striking Caldwell in the face when she stood up—hadn’t played nearly as well as the rumours that had circulated in the days since Willa had been suspended. She sighed, resigned to her notoriety.

Thankfully, her parents weren’t as upset as they might have been, considering the gravity of the charge she’d been suspended for, and there were a couple of reasons for that. First, of course, was the circumstance under which Willa had walked out of Shedrand’s class. She’d told her parents in advance about Forbes’s deal with the phone he’d supplied Keegan—it could make only one call before being rendered useless—so they understood that she’d have to answer her own phone whenever and wherever it rang. Mind you, they felt Willa could have been more forthcoming—not to mention polite—in explaining to Shedrand her need to take the call, but the circumstance was what it was.

The second reason her parents hadn’t gone ballistic had little to do with Willa. Since her mother’s return to work at the dealership, her parents had spent more time together in the past few days than they had in months, and they were—in Willa’s mind, anyway—uncomfortably enthralled with each other. It was embarrassing, really, the way they’d gaze into each other’s eyes when they were supposed to be poring over accounts or revised business plans, but Willa hadn’t heard them argue once, so it was all good. That is, if you could ignore the claims of being tired that took them to bed earlier than usual. Gross. But the upside was that happy parents made for more agreeable ones, and instead of her suspension getting her grounded at home, she was free to come and go during her days out of school. Which explained her sitting in Memorial Park now with two other fledgling badasses.

“So,” said Greg, “is this club gonna cost me anything? Are there, like, dues or something? Because I gotta tell you guys, I’m broke.”

Both Russell and Willa nodded sympathetically. Greg’s hours stocking shelves after school at the Bulk Barn had been drastically reduced, something that couldn’t have come at a worse time, since he’d just made what his parents called a “staggeringly expensive purchase” without their knowledge. With some clandestine help from Raven, he’d managed to get copies of most of Bailey’s poems and had taken them to a printer in New Minas, where he’d paid to have them published in a print run of twenty hardcover books complete with illustrations that he’d created himself. One of Willa’s all-time favourite photos was the picture she’d taken of Bailey on her birthday last week when she’d opened the heavy box Greg had given her at Subway, where they’d all met for lunch since three of them were barred from school. Absolutely stunned, Bailey had begun to laugh and cry at the same time, and before long all five of them were doing the same, a shared emotional release triggered by everything that had happened to them. They’d drawn a lot of weird looks, but Willa couldn’t have cared less—she’d never before felt so connected to a group of people, and as she’d watched Bailey plant a kiss on a wide-eyed, red-faced Greg afterwards, she’d realized only one thing was keeping that moment from being perfect—Keegan wasn’t there to share it with them.