Лорен Кейт - The Betrayal of Natalie Hargrove

Since Mike and I had more footage of the two of us over the past three years than probably any other couple, everyone was expecting our film to be of Oscar-worthy caliber. We’d finished editing it way before Palmetto had even announced the winners, so all that was left to do was turn it in to the Anger, resident dance technician, who vetted it through the fishbowl to make sure it was PG enough for the dance. I loved our movie almost as much as I loved wearing the crown.

So it gave me a sizable pang of sadness to think about pulling our tape from the deck. But when I saw the intrigued look on Mike’s face, I knew it would be worth the sacrifice.

“You’re going to rig the ‘Path to Palmetto’ segment at the Ball to play an Officer Parker sex tape?” He laughed, incredulous. “You really want to do that? But you love our movie.”

“I also love the idea of blackmail for the blackmailer,” I said.

“Well, that would do the trick.”

I smiled. “He’ll be lamer than a Carolina duck in hunting season.”

Mike ran his hand through my hair. It felt so good I closed my eyes and just basked in the simple comfort of the moment. But when I opened them, his brow was furrowed yet again.

“What?” I asked, sitting up and taking his hand. “What’s going on with that look?”

Mike kissed my hand, but his eyes still looked worried. “I’m glad you figured something out about O.P. I mean, I could kill that guy. But there’s something I have to tell you.”

I nodded.

“I have some news about Baxter,” he said.

“He’s in rehab,” I said without looking up. “I know that.”

“Yeah, well, not for long.” Mike sighed. “He’s on his way back, just in time for the Ball on Friday.”

A rush of humid water from the fall seemed to choke me. I dropped the brownie in my hand.

“How did you hear about this?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.” Mike sounded defensive. “I got a letter from him today. He says he knows what we’re up to, Nat. I don’t think he’s going to let us get away with it.”

“But. . what happened was an accident,” I stammered. “It wasn’t our fault!”

“I know that,” Mike agreed. “But what’s happened since J.B., all this plotting. .” He trailed off. “You do realize we’re framing someone with murder?”

“Of course, I realize it. I’ve spent every waking minute consumed by it. But what other choice do we have? It’s going to end up being Baxter’s word against ours. Who do you think the school’s going to believe?”

Mike stepped away. He was rubbing his forehead again.

“I think we’re in over our heads.” He bit his lip. “The letter came through Kate. I think she’s got his back.”

I narrowed my eyes. This was an unwanted twist. Under normal circumstances, I might have pulled Kate aside to school her on the perils of expecting too much from a guy like Baxter. I might have suggested she just cut her losses and move on. But Kate had crossed me twice now in the wrong week, when Mike and I didn’t have the time or energy to look out for anyone’s best interests other than our own.

“Kate is nothing more than a childish slut with too much money, and Baxter is a junkie,” I huffed finally. “I guarantee you as soon as she gets distracted by another guy, she’ll have no problem abandoning her post. It’s not like she’s getting any conjugal visits while Baxter’s under house arrest.”

“Okay,” Mike said, “so. .”

“So that’s it.” I smirked. “You get one of your linebacker friends to hit on her at the Ball. Make sure he takes her home. I guarantee, it will be like Baxter Quinn never even existed.”

Mike nodded, but he was starting to look confused again.

“Hey.” I cupped his chin. “Remember a short while ago when you loved my single-minded masterfulness?”

He gave a sad little laugh. “I do,” he said.

“It’s still me, baby. We’re still in this together. I just want to stand up there next to you and wear that crown. I know you want it, too.”

“I don’t know,” he said. His words came fast and sounded nervous. “It’s like, I want to reach out and touch you, to make you feel better, to make myself feel better. That’s all I know how to do.” He shook his head. “But recently, I feel like I don’t know anything. I love you and I’m trying, but I don’t know who you are.”

It was only then that I realized how disconnected Mike and I really were. We’d never had to try before. There’d never been a need to reconnect because we were always just together. Our friends even called us John and Yoko, teasing us because wherever one of us was, you could always find the other.

I reached for his belt buckle. Maybe it was a reflex. It was all I could think of to keep us together, even though part of me knew it was wrong.

“No,” he said, flicking my hand away.

I looked down at my hand as if I’d just been stung. I felt my face fall. Mike had just swatted me away. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t.

I sat down next to him on the rock and pulled his lips to mine. He kissed back, but something about it was like a reflex more than a desire.

This was so frustrating. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed harder, slipping my tongue between his teeth. I waited for the pull on my bottom lip that always told me he was really into it. . but it never came.

After a minute, he pushed me back. My heart raced, panicked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t pretend like everything is okay. I can’t push what we did out of my mind.”

I sat mortified on the rock, with no part of my body touching Mike’s. I felt like he’d slapped me in the face. A light breeze picked up, and I suddenly realized my face was damp. Tears were streaking down my cheeks.

“Natalie,” he whispered, clearly pained — which just made it worse. I felt myself breaking, ever so slightly. Something inside me was snapping. And he still kept his hands in his lap, not touching me. “Don’t.” His voice broke and I began crying in earnest.

“I can’t help it,” I said, soaking my shirtsleeves with my tears. “I can’t. . I just can’t do this alone.”

At last, he turned to me and tucked my hair behind my ear. He kissed my eyelids, getting his lips wet with my tears.

“You’re not alone,” he said. “I’m in this with you. You know I am.” I tried to take a deep breath, but it had been so long since I had really cried that now I felt like I couldn’t control it. I was so tired. So, so tired.

He brushed my hair back again with his strong hands and finally showed me the smile I hadn’t realized I’d been craving all week. “Here,” he said, “I have something for you.”

“You do?”

I wiped my eyes while Mike reached behind him and pulled out a large white box.

“I know you’ve been waiting for this,” he said, handing it to me.

When I opened it, I gasped. I had completely forgotten that tomorrow was Jessamine Day. I’d been waiting four years to get the all-white senior privilege flower, instead of the gaudy, colored underclassmen one. And this Jessamine was perfect. My eyes stung as fresh tears threatened — in all of this awful mess, Mike had still remembered. He still loved me. I wasn’t alone.

And the Jessamine. It was gorgeous.

It was big enough to make an impression but completely tasteful in its design. I held it up to my heart, where I’d wear it pinned to my overalls to school tomorrow. The centerpiece was a crown with an opal at its center.

“I had to have it specially ordered,” Mike said. “The Dick had to call three factories to find that there crown. It’s the only one in the state. But I knew what I wanted,” he said. “And I got it.”