Cornered by Rhoda Belleza Page A

and saw me standing there. I wasn’t sure if they could read the look on my face because, well, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling myself.
    â€œWe’ll leave you alone,” Aunt Tina said, pulling Eli back toward the living room.
    â€œWe’ll go outside,” I said, still confused. “Take a walk if that’s okay?”
    So there we were. Me and Tiffany Sanz, walking through the suburban quiet of Westport. I found myself leading us the opposite direction of town. Out where the suburbs become more rural, even quieter. There was a long bridge that ran over a small river.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I asked as we walked.
    â€œI needed to talk to you,” she said.
    â€œWasn’t there some sort of after-party where everyoneburned my picture or poked a voodoo doll or something?”
    â€œWell, yeah, sure, but skipping the after-party only increases my rock star cred.”
    â€œDoes making me fear for my life also increase your rock star cred?”
    â€œOh, come on, those nerds weren’t going to kill you.” “You never heard of what-do-you-call-it . . . Columbine? Virginia Tech? I could go on.”
    â€œOh, I’ve heard all about that,” she said. “Believe me.”
    â€œYou’re not making me feel better,” I said.
    â€œYou think those hipsters were hiding guns in their beards? Ooh, that’s a good line.” She pulled out a notebook and wrote while singing quietly. “Hipsters with guns in their beards.” It sort of made me hate her.
    â€œHow did you even find me?” I asked.
    â€œYour aunt is Tina Forbes. I looked her up online. Found the address. Easy enough.”
    â€œOkay, but still: why? Why are you here?”
    â€œListen: I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but really I do want to thank you.”
    â€œThank me? For what?”
    â€œNo one should ever be treated like I was. That’s a fact. But in some way you helped me realize early on what I didn’t want to be. You helped me become me. Ooh, a rhyme!” She opened her notebook again.
    â€œWell, I feel like crap about it. But you probably wanted that.”
    â€œMaybe a little.” She gave me a look. An innocent look. A look that made me realize the sad little girl was still there under the rock-star cool. “But more than anything, I guess I want to know why you did it.”
    â€œThe million-dollar question,” I said.
    â€œThat’s not an answer,” she said.
    â€œIs there one?”
    â€œYou tell me.”
    There was a long pause. We stopped and leaned against the rails of the bridge, staring over the small river. A car drove by, its motor purring in the night, its lights briefly illuminating the darkness.
    â€œThe truth?”
    â€œThe truth.”
    â€œI think I did it just so people wouldn’t tease me.”
    She laughed. “Why would people tease you, Bryan Forbes? You’re like perfect.” I rolled my eyes. “Good grades, good family, good at sports . . .”
    â€œI’m good at running,” I said. “That’s not a sport people exactly give a shit about. Plus, you know, they used to tease me too before you showed up. They had a mean name they used to call me. They taunted me.”
    â€œThey did? What was it? Jacques Strapp?”
    â€œWhy are you obsessed with jock straps? I’m a runner, remember? I’ve never worn a jock strap in my life.”
    â€œWhat then? Tell me.”
    â€œUh-uh,” I said. “No way. No freaking way I’m telling you.I’ve seen you with that notebook and that pen. Everything I say goes into a song.”
    Without pausing for a moment, she threw her notebook off the bridge. Its pages fluttered like a bird. Like a dying bird. It splashed into the water.
    â€œNow you have to tell me,” she said.
    â€œThat was really cool, but no.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt’s painful.”
    â€œPainful? I just