The Color of Hope (30 page)
Charley took the phone. Ben had indeed posted on her wall. It said, This is what payback looks like, you slut. By the way, enjoyed her much more than you.
A forty-seven second video was attached. Charley clicked Play and saw Ben on top of some girl, with sensual music added for effect. She pushed Stop.
“I’m not watching that foul video.” Charley gave her the phone and paced the room, so angry she didn’t know where to start. “How is this even
allowed
on Facebook?”
“It’s not,” Kelsey said. “People post all kinds of stuff that’s not allowed. If it gets reported, it might get deleted. But thousands of people have seen it by then.” She sighed her disgust. “I can’t believe he called me a slut for everybody to see.”
Charley looked at her. “That’s not nearly the worst part of this. He took
video
of himself and some girl—who knows if she knew she was being taped—and
posted
it.” She held out her hand. “Give me your phone again.”
Charley clicked through several Facebook screens until she’d reported the post and the Facebook user in violation of the rules, Ben.
“Wait a minute,” Charley said suddenly. “Why didn’t you delete this the minute you found it? Then other people wouldn’t have seen it.”
“He posted it to a dozen other walls—and people are sharing it like crazy.” She huffed. “And when I find out who that girl is . . . probably Alisa. He was flirting with her at the after-game party last night.”
Charley gave her back her phone. “I have to go.”
Her sights were set on home, but seeing numerous students in the gym, still milling around phones, she reacted.
“Listen up.” Her voice echoed. “You’re looking at and gossiping about real people with real lives and real feelings. If you’ve posted that video to your own page, I’m asking you to do the right thing and delete it. Now. Don’t spread it around.”
If one person listened, she’d be shocked. Still, it needed to be said.
Charley burst through the door at home and doubled up the steps to Ben’s room. She’d seen his car outside, but the room was empty.
She stopped in the upstairs hall. “Ben! Where are you?”
“What?” he called. “I’m in the kitchen.”
She’d hurried right past him. Hastening back down, Charley entered the kitchen, where her mom and Ben were eating lunch—Ben only somewhat. He seemed more preoccupied with the laptop on the table in front of him than with the sandwich off to the side.
“Checking comments on your vile post?” Charley asked.
Ben sat back, looking satisfied. “I hear the whole gym was captivated. Sorry if I distracted your players.”
“This is sick and slimy even for you, Ben.”
Her mom looked up. “What’s this about?”
“Ben posted a video of himself and some girl having sex. On Facebook. All the high schoolers were looking at it at the game.”
Her mother put down the newspaper. “You did
what
? I don’t
even know what to—Ben, what on
earth
would possess you to do such a thing?”
Ben didn’t respond, so Charley responded for him.
“He was mad at Kelsey and called it payback.”
“Delete that video right now,” Dottie said.
Ben sighed. “Mom, you don’t know how Facebook works. Wouldn’t matter if I deleted it. I only posted it an hour ago, and hundreds of people already shared it.”
“What does that mean, ‘shared it’?” Dottie asked.
“Means they posted it too, so all their friends could see. It’s gone viral.”
Dottie stared in disbelief. “Do you know what you’ve done to your reputation?”
“Who
cares
about his reputation?” Charley said. “This probably improves his reputation among his twisted friends. I’m worried about the girl in the video.”
It dawned on Charley that Sam was at the house just last night, but no way could she be the one in the video. As surprising as it was to see her with Ben, Sam would never have had sex with him, Charley was sure. But there were plenty others he’d been out with and could easily have sneaked to his room.
She turned to Ben. “Did you give any thought to the girl? You’ve ruined her life.”
“Have not.” Ben was dismissive. “You can’t even tell who she is.”
“Still,” Charley said. “Viral or not, I think you need to delete every post that you personally put out there.”
“Absolutely,” Dottie said. “Take them down right now.”
Ben gave in with a groan as he turned back to his laptop. A couple of clicks later he did a double take. “Oh crap!”
“What?”
“That stupid geek, Leonard.” Ben was reading. “He’s got a
comment on the video. Says he took a screen shot, enlarged it, and figured out who she is.”
“Oh no . . .” Charley felt sick. “Tell me Leonard didn’t post her name.”
Ben nodded slowly. “He did. And by the look of all the follow-up posts, now
that’s
going viral.”
“Do I know her? Is she a Hope Springs High student?”
Ben stared at the screen. “It’s Sam.”
S
tephanie had jumped into the car once again after a phone call about Sam. But this time she had a posse with her—Lindell and Janelle, and they’d picked up Marcus on the way. Stephanie was sure she’d get pushback from Sam’s mother about seeing her. Whether it made sense or not, she felt that a group—especially one that included the assistant principal—Would let the woman know how serious this was. Given Sam’s tendency to seclude herself, she probably wasn’t yet aware of the video, but it was imperative that Stephanie let her know—then figure out how to cope with it.
“This street right here, Lindell,” Stephanie said. “Turn here.”
“No, the whole thing blew up this morning,” Marcus said. He was in the backseat talking to the principal. “Right . . . Absolutely. Definitely a fiasco.” He blew out a sigh. “You think news organizations might get hold of it? I hadn’t thought about that . . . Okay, will do.”
“What did he say?” Stephanie said.
“He wants me to call him back once we see how Sam’s doing,”
Marcus said. “We’re meeting later this afternoon to determine what administrative action should be taken.”
“Every time I think about it, I just want to cry,” Janelle said.
“I can’t believe it.” Marcus had said it about a hundred times. “I really cannot believe Ben did this.”
“I don’t put anything past him,” Stephanie said. “I have no words for how I’m feeling right now.”
She hadn’t told them that the video was actually of a rape. She’d promised Sam she wouldn’t say anything until she talked to her. Stephanie had called her right before she found out about the Facebook post, but she hadn’t answered.
“That’s her house,” Stephanie said, pointing. “Huh. Her mom’s car isn’t there. I hope Sam’s home.”
They filed out and looked as Charley’s car came crunching over the gravel. She’d said she would meet them there.
They all walked to the door.
Stephanie knocked. “Sam, you in there?” She waited. Knocked harder. “Sam? Are you home?” She turned to the others. “What if she already knows about the video? She might be too humiliated to open the door.”
Marcus knocked this time, his fist making a louder sound.
Stephanie pulled out her phone and called again. No answer. “Where could she be? She hardly goes anywhere.”
“Is there a home she could go to if she wanted to escape all this?” Janelle said.
“Just ours.” Stephanie looked over at the front window. “That’s Sam’s bedroom.”
She stepped into the dirt and brushed against the bush in front of the window, trying to peer in. The blinds were partially open, and she saw a cell phone on the bed. And the bed was unmade. Stephanie’s heart pounded.
“I’ve never seen her go anywhere without her phone,” Stephanie
said. “And she’s a neat freak. Says she doesn’t feel right unless her bed is made.” She walked back over to them. “I’m trying the door.”
“We can’t just walk into the girl’s house,” Lindell said.
“I have to. Something is wrong.” Stephanie didn’t want to reveal what Sam said last night—that life wasn’t worth living. And that was
before
knowledge of the video.
“This door is locked,” Stephanie said. “I’m going around back.”
“Steph,” Janelle said, “I’m a little nervous about creeping around this girl’s house. Maybe we should come back or call later when we’re sure someone’s home.”
Stephanie ignored her. She jiggled the doorknob on the back door, and it opened. “I’m going in.”
The door opened to a narrow, dim hallway off the kitchen. Stephanie heard footsteps behind her as she walked through the kitchen, past a bathroom and living room, then to the left where Sam’s bedroom was. The door was closed.
Stephanie knocked. “Sam? Are you in there? It’s Miss Stephanie.” She turned the knob. “It’s
locked
?”
She stared at it, thinking. Then, “This is a flimsy door. I know we can kick it in.”
Marcus looked at her. “I’m with you. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
At Marcus’s swift kick, the lock popped and the door flew open.
They walked into an empty room. Stephanie sighed, glancing around at the bedroom furniture and decorations, wondering what to do next.
“Oh, God!”
Stephanie turned. Janelle had fallen to her knees, hands to her face in shock after opening the closet door. Stephanie’s entire body tensed as she walked to where Janelle stood.
“No!” Stephanie wailed. “No! Oh, God, no!”
She was still wailing as Lindell hurried past her to the closet.
“Call 911,” he shouted.
Marcus put his arm around Stephanie, gently pulling her aside.
Seconds later Lindell had carried Sam’s body to the bed and was performing CPR.
Charley was talking to the 911 operator. “An ambulance is on the way,” she told them. She went back to answering questions.
Lindell stopped the CPR and slid to the floor, face buried in his hands.
In silent sobs, Stephanie knelt by the bed. “Sam . . .” She stroked her hair. “I’m here. It’ll be all right. Help’s on the way. Sam, please, I know you hear me.
Please
hear me.”
Charley and Janelle were holding hands, heads bowed, praying. Marcus was pacing.
Stephanie kept talking to Sam, stroking her hair, until the ambulance came. Marcus went to open the front door and let them in.
As the paramedics rushed in, Stephanie moved out of the way so they could tend to her. Her eyes caught Sam’s phone on the bed. Curious, she picked it up and flipped it open, awakening the screen, surprised to see that her phone with prepaid minutes had Facebook.
Stephanie brought it closer. Sam’s profile page was open, her wall flooded with recent comments.
Ur the real slut, not Kelsey,
one girl wrote.
Another,
Why do you act all quiet in school? Ur just an undercover whore.
Stephanie’s blood boiled.
Didn’t know Ben liked black girls, one guy said. Gotta ask what dark meat is like. lol
Charley came beside her. “What’s on there?”
“Facebook posts. She knew.” Stephanie threw the phone on the bed. “I can’t read any more of that filth.”
She found a piece of paper and left a note by the front door for Sam’s mother to go to the hospital. Hopefully she’d be home soon.
But Stephanie knew already—it was too late.
Stephanie left the Rocky Mount hospital at 5:14 p.m., the moment she heard Sam had been taken off life support and pronounced dead. She didn’t want to hear a single word or engage with anyone. She knew Lindell understood.
She got in her car and zoomed out of the parking lot, taking the route back to the highway. But she wasn’t headed to Hope Springs. She would keep driving and driving. If she knew the way, she would drive all the way back to St. Louis. Where life made sense. Where people worshiped together. Where you didn’t get a gun stuck in your face for dating a person who looked different.
Where she didn’t have to worry about her heart getting ripped out because she’d gotten so close to a young girl.
