Killing Justice

Chapter 3

Skylar: Before killing Justice

When people know you’ve taken a life before, there’s a certain way they look at you. I see it in their eyes. Pure fear like a knife slowly twisted in their gut. They think I’m going to snap at any minute and when I don’t, the brave ones pluck up the courage to tell it to my face: killer, murderer, psycho. For some time, you’d think I’ve gotten used to it, that there’s no other colorful way they can break my spirit till they find a way to penetrate each space in my soul with the daggers in their eyes and the pitchforks in their words.

You’d think I’ve gotten used to the way they look at me even as my body surges forward, my arms are straight as a ruler as they cut through the water but even this deep in Arden Academy’s swimming pool, I can feel their eyes on me. Hot like a heated knife on cold butter. They can’t touch me any other way. People don’t tango with what they fear because five years ago, I killed my twin sister Jasmine in a forest in Aburi on an all girls camping trip.

They say something incredibly macabre occurred that night. I don’t remember much but I don’t need to since everyone knows or thinks they know the facts. Here are the facts: We had an argument last night while camping out in the woods. The memory of that burn of fury in my chest left my insides charred.

It fits the story that I was jealous of Jasmine because she was beautiful, more outgoing and boys frolicked around her like the flames licking at our marshmallows that night. No one knows what we were bickering about because we did it undertone but audible enough to catch some harsh words. I left the campsite first, leaving Jasmine with the other girls.

Jasmine followed me a few minutes after, and apparently, she caught me performing some blood sacrifice with a squirrel I found in the woods. No doubt their fertile imagination was inspired by what happened in Year Six when the girls in my class yelped at a fast-moving gecko and I killed it without blinking an eye.

Another fact here is, after Jasmine caught me, she swore she would tattle on me to our mother. I called her a snitch. We fought again, more physically than before. I accidentally shoved her, sending her over the edge of the cliff. Her body became weightless, light as air. Some even whisper in the hallways that I stood at the peak to make sure the jagged rocks had finished the job.

I’ll have to ask the author of that version of the story, who happens to be Justice Ortega, if that’s a new update of the rumor. I’ll ask her if I felt anything when I killed Jasmine. If I’m truly the monster they say I am.

There’s a cramp in my leg muscles that sets tension loose tingling up my calves and I can’t help but think this is the moment I’ve been waiting for when I don’t break the surface as I usually do. I’ll just be floating something in the blue, like being lost in limbo.

But I do break the surface and gulp in some air. Suddenly, I sense a pair of eyes on me. A different set, heated and wary. My eyes immediately peruse the pool area, but all I’m greeted with is Coach Amihere giving the girls a lecture about balancing sports with school work. A voice clears from my left. My neck snaps in that direction and I’m stunned at the sight of Victor’s sinewy frame against the blue wall.

“What do you want?” I can’t chase the bitter taste in my mouth away as I level him with my infamous glare. I’ve come to realise it’s my default expression for everything.

He lifts up his hands as if to say hey what did I do? I could give him a list, but there’s no way I’ll waste my time. “Nothing. Can’t I come down here and cheer on the swim team?”

Rolling my eyes, I glide towards the edge and ignore the way my stomach dips as he leans over. “I hate to break it to you, but boys aren’t allowed in here while we swim.”

He shoots me a broad grin that oozes with confidence. “Then it’s a good thing I’m friends with Coach.” And as if to prove his point, he waves at her.

The monstrous folding of her brows falls when she sees him and in a heartbeat, she’s smiling as though she wasn’t just giving my teammates an earful. It’s irksome knowing he can get away with anything. He’s always been able to.

“Okay. At the risk of sounding redundant, what are you doing here?”

His smile fades away into a thin line. If someone were looking in on this scene, they’d probably think we were strangers to each other, but it’s the opposite. I’ve known Victor my entire life. Our memories as best friends are tucked away in a box labelled Before Jasmine. Victor, the boy next door with overgrown hair and drag-me-down clothes that he always seemed to be drowning in.

The boy who teased me about wanting to have a treehouse even though they are non-existent in The Circle, yet he promised to build me one. Now he’s dating Satan’s spawn and I’m left with memories of him accusing me of causing Jasmine’s fall.

He gives his chest a scratch and looks heavenward just in time for me to see Justice saunter in. Justice, the gorgeous girl who can jump, dodge and say yes or no and all you’ll ask is how high, to where and just shut the hell up because she’s the leading type.

“I need one of your study aids.” He furtively glanced around. My eyes go wide because I have no clue what he’s alluding to.

“Your special pills, Skylar. Keep up,” he says it so smoothly, breezily, like he’s telling a child the sky is blue and grass is green. My lungs atrophie into a gaping hole, but I fix a tight-lipped smile on my face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I let a little lethargy enter my tone so he thinks I’m physically strained from doing so many laps my lungs are screaming at me for torturing them. I bristle when he looks dubious. “Look, even if I had one of those, I wouldn’t give it out especially to you.”

“Why not? We used to be best buddies.” Yes, till you became a peacock and practically called me a murderer. “Plus, my grades are slipping. Ds and Cs aren’t going to look good on college applications, not to mention that my transcript looks way better. I might as well be a meathead.”

He’s failing. So what? I smile. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ thing.”

His eye begins to twitch like he’s about to have a catastrophic seizure. No doubt I’ve pissed him off, but I’m vexed enough for both of us. My eyes flit to his girlfriend, clothed in the mundane white and wine uniform wearing her half poker face half conniving look as she talks to my teammates.

Glossy lips on full display and hips kept jaunty. I’m surprised Coach gave her the go-ahead to interrupt her speech, and then I remember it as Speech Day for those who signed up to be prefects in Arden Academy.

No sooner had we started the term than the riveting season at Arden Academy began. We call it Fall season because most people get into fights and arguments during the election period. Sometimes it was too much to swallow, but it seems as though Justice’s got it in the bag as always.

Justice doesn’t spare us a glance. What gives? Last term she glued a girl’s hand to her locker just for sizing Victor up. Cynthia Antonia couldn’t prove anything, so everyone called her sticky fingers. And now she’s not even concerned that her boyfriend is speaking to me out of all people.

Justice and I are stellar opposites. She’s my real-life Regina George. Then it hits me like a brick. This feels oddly like those spy movies where two people contrive a plan to bust the drug lord or something. Only this time, Victor the duplicitous asshole isn’t wearing any wire and Justice isn’t carrying a camera. She’s not even flanked by Ava Hernaez today, but she wouldn’t be, not when she’s campaigning against her.

Victor snaps his fingers in my face to get my attention. I stay quiet for a while, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him in the pool. “Look, I just need a little for tonight, okay? I have a Chemistry test tomorrow and I can’t fail.”

His feet tap wildly against the wet tiles. I’ve known that nervous habit since we were little. “If it’s any consolation, I’m no Einstein either,” I admit. “But if you want, I can get the remaining stash in my bag. I’ll give you some Adderall but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

A sigh escapes his lips and if I wasn’t so wise I’d think he’s eager to stop this clandestine meeting. “Thanks, Skylar. I won’t forget this.” Neither will I.

Undoubtedly you’re up to something with Justice. I rest my palms on the floor and push my upper body over the edge. Ignoring the hand offered to me, I manage to get up without letting gravity pull me down further.

“Can I ask you something?” I turned to him. It’s difficult staring into his dark pools for eyes, his straight nose and chiseled clenched jaw like we’re friends again having a normal conversation. If only this were real and I didn’t smell a rat. “How did you know I had ‘study aids’?”

“A little bird told me,” he confesses with a smile not before he clears his throat and runs his fingers through his curls, ruffling it up. I bet a thousand pennies that the bird is Justice, but I don’t know what she’s up to or why she’s using Victor as her pawn.

“Alright then. You’ll have to wait outside while I get my stuff. I don’t want Coach to load me with too many questions.”

He shrugs and leaves. I walk over to the bench, harboring my stuff with my gait as stiff as a wood. I’m about to grab my sports bag when a thick dark hand wraps itself around mine and I jerk back from one of my teammates, Ethel, who unlike everyone else feels brave enough to touch me. I glare at her and snap, “What?”

“Leaving practice so soon while Coach is distracted isn’t cool,” Miss-goody-two-shoes says. She wipes away her wet braids over her shoulder and looks sheepishly at her feet. Growing up, Jasmine gave me a list I later memorized and stored in my head. A list of things that could calm me enough not to let what people say to cause me to explode. Words that sound like the perfect excuse yet are a complete lie to get you out of sticky situations.

I sling my Jansport bag over one shoulder and say, “I’m hitting the showers. And if you want to snitch on me, Ethel, be my guest.”

The wind is cool and fans my pale skin once I’m out. Victor is leaning against a pillar, orange sun rays dance on his face, and I start to have conflicting feelings about him setting me up.

“Do you have it?”

I raise one thick eyebrow and slap the small Ziploc into his hand. “Here.”

I pause when I see he wants to open it. I hiss and clamp his hand over it tightly. “Are you stupid? Don’t look at it here, we’re still on school property.”

The corner of his lips crinkle as if he’s about to shoot me a smart quip. But I still see past his veneer because he’d rather be dead than speak to The Monster Of Aburi Hill. He nods instead, once, twice and walks off with determined long strides. Once he’s gone, I can’t hold my laughter in because when he realizes I gave him Advil instead of what he thinks I have, I’ll be long gone by then. I had an inkling back there and my gut never lies.

• * *

Making my way through the corridor, I ignored the stares sent my way. The cerulean sky is clearer than it was a day ago and as usual, the weather report lies once again. I’ve wanted rain for a long time, knowing Harmattan is going to roll by once November descends upon us. Rain meant I could have an excuse to fall asleep in class.

When I push open the tall green doors of the sports area, I feel her before I see her. One thing I know about Justice is that she feels like trouble and smells like a rude awakening. Over the years, I’ve ignored her taunts and stayed clear from her path. Now I’m wondering if it was all for nothing when I sense her breathing down my neck an inch away. Ignoring her, I start to comb my fingers through my untamable hair, wishing I could stop it from growing this long and wrap it in a bun. My throat clears and I sigh.

“So either you’ve taken up a new hobby of stalking me or you actually want to say something.” It’s hard to believe she wants to spend her time cornering me in the locker room, but I’ll indulge her.

When I turn to face her, those same striking eyes scrutinize my body like I’m the dirty blob she stepped in on a rainy day. “He only spoke to you ‘cause I asked him to. He wouldn’t be caught dead with you if I hadn’t.”

She definitely doesn’t beat about the bush. “Whoa, and here I thought you were coming to beg me to vote for you today. But I hate to break it to you, I don’t think you’re Head Girl material.”

“And I don’t think you get it, do you?” She moves slowly towards me. Arms criss crossed over one another, eyes narrowed into slits that almost makes me think she can’t see. Her skin tone is darker than mine but her eyes always possess an Asian trade, small, lovely.

“I see right through you, Skylar. Dealing with pills in school…” She trails off and chuckles while my blood boils. “So what? Now you’ve graduated from stealing Oxy from your mother’s bag to what? I’m glad she’s in a cold grave and not here to see her daughter turn into some Candy Girl.”

A small gust of air slices my face and everything falls into echo making me realise in that split second I blinked, I had slapped Justice Ortega so hard my hand radiated heat.

“You bitch, you hit me!” she shrieks, reminding me now more than ever of a cat with a hellish voice.

Panic blossoms in my chest as my eyes scour our surroundings. No one is here to see. To stop me. I won’t get into trouble because she has no proof.

“I’ll do it again,” I promise her darkly and shove her out of my way. But she’s resilient and stays rooted to her spot in front of my locker. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t know or can’t remember clearly. You’re an idiot now, get out of my way.”

“I’m going to be real with you, Skylar,” she says my name nastily, her long shiny ponytail bouncing as she steps forward. “When I become Head Girl, I’m going to make sure you leave Arden before graduation rolls by.”

Her threat doesn’t fall on deaf ears, and I give her a cursory glance. I dropped sports only to delve back into it because I realized my grades won’t save me from The Circle or Arden Academy, that they might not be enough to help me graduate.

I know Justice can spin the truth, make it fit her version of the story. I’ve seen and heard it happen so many times, which is why I slam her into the locker. The air knocks out of her lungs and an of travels from her lips. I expect a look of horror to be plastered on her stupid face, but she’s giving me one of her smug grins like she’s won this war while I won only a small portion of the battle.

My fingers curl in on themselves forming a tight fist and before I know it, my eyes snag a flash of white and blue from my far right. I’m stunned to see Coach standing in the doorway.

“What on earth?”

I thought maybe assaulting a fellow student in the confines of the girl’s locker room was the issue. No, it was much worse because while Justice engaged me in a faux verbal fight only for me to lose my cool, she’d unzipped the one pocket on my bag I thought no one knew about.

I think I’m hallucinating because there on the wet floor where there are many imprints of other swimmers’ footsteps lie the many pills I secretly refused to give to Victor. My truth laid bare for the whole world to see.

“Coach, it’s not what it looks like,” I say, my voice wobbly with anxiety. “She set me up when I wasn’t—.”

Coach raises her palms in the air, shutting me up. “No more stories, Skylar. I’m done hearing them. Follow me to the Principal’s office.”

My blood goes cold, but I keep my face blank, not giving anything away. Justice sidesteps me, places one light grip on my shoulder, shocking me more than Coach.

“I know Skylar made a huge mistake, but please hear her out.” Her voice has turned sad and pleading like we’re holding hands at MUN.

“Coach, I tried to talk her out of it but she just got aggressive. If anything, it’s my fault for not speaking to her earlier, for you finding out this way. You should know Skylar has lost so much. Her mother. Her sister. Please, please don’t be too hard on her.”

It takes a while for my brain to assimilate what she’s doing. The two-faced devil!

“It’s okay, Justice. Why don’t you go on out and finish your campaign? Talk to the rest of the girls while I take care of this problem.” Coach says, her lips tight and her face marred by disdain and something I haven’t seen etched there before. Disappointment. I’m the problem she has to take care of.

“If you say so,” Justice says in a sugary tone. She practically walks out of here with a bounce in her step.

As Coach instructs me to pick up my bag from the floor, I remember when a long time ago I told myself someone would finally snap and get back at her, because Karma’s a bitch. But she’s not bitchy enough to get the job done. I will.