for what Joe had done for him when they were only twelve years old, Kennedy doubted theyâd even be friends. âI donât want to hear it.â
At the irritation in Kennedyâs voice, they stared at him for several seconds. A few muttered about the pressure he was under. But after a while, the tension eased and they started talking about the Jaguars and what kind of football season they could expect.
Kennedy listened until he couldnât stand wondering about Grace anymore. Then, with a silent curse, he got up and went to the womanâs restroom. âGrace?â he said, knocking on the door. âYou okay in there?â
No reply. Just the sound of the fan whirring inside.
âGrace? If you donât answer, Iâll have to come in.â
Still nothing.
He began to enterâand caught a brief glimpse of her staggering to her feet. But then she hit the other side of the door and held it closed with the weight of her body.
âIâIâmâ¦fine,â she said. But her words were broken as though she had to gulp for the air to speak.
Judging by the unusually pale face and saucerlike eyes heâd seen in the mirror, he knew she couldnât be fine. She was sick. He could smell it.
âDo you need a ride home?â he asked.
There was no response, but she was leaning against the door, and he didnât want to force it open.
âI could give you a lift right now.â
âNo, youâ¦you go on back to your friends. Theyâre pretty funnyâ¦IâI wouldnât want you to miss anything.â
Shit. Sheâd heard them, just as he feared. He tried to open the door again, but it wouldnât budge. âThe guysâthey can be idiots sometimes, you know? I often wonder if theyâll ever grow up. Forget about them, okay? They donât mean half the things that come out of their mouths.â
The sound of fabric brushing against the wood led him to believe sheâd just slid to the floor.
âGrace?â
âLeave me alone.â Her voice was more strident now, but it came from much lower, confirming his suspicion that she was on the floor. âIâIâm not one of your many admirers, soâ¦do us both a favor and go.â
Go. With a sigh, Kennedy told himself to do just that. But he couldnât; the words heâd heard his friends say, and how deeply he suspected theyâd hurt her, wouldnât let him. He paced the short hall several times. Then he realized that Joe and the others were still waiting to see what would happen, and decided to take Grace out of the spotlight by returning to the table.
âYou get anything good?â Joe asked and everyone laughed.
âHeâd be smilinâ if that was the case,â Tim said.
Kennedy scowled. âYou guys can be real assholes, you know that?â
Â
Hunching over the sink, Grace dabbed a wet paper towel to her forehead. She needed to gather the strength to walk out of the pizza parlor. But she washoping Kennedy and his friends would leave first. Sheâd face them all later, when she was better prepared.
Breathe deeply. In and out. In and out. Sheâd be okay. Sheâd survived a lot worse than this. It was just the surprise, the throwback to old times that bothered her.
Forget them. You donât need them. You never didâ¦.
The voice of a little boy heading into the opposite restroom rose in the hallway, and she decided to make her move. The approach of the dinner hour meant there were probably a lot more people in the restaurant. Even if Kennedy Archer and his friends were still around, maybe she could slip by without being noticed. Even if they saw her, she didnât care. The initial shock was over. What more could they do?
She splashed some water on her face and patted it dry, then marched into the dining area. Beer mugs, paper plates and silver pizza pans littered the table where Kennedy and his friends had eaten, but the seats
Learning to Kill: Stories