Fragile Steps: Chapters 17-19
Previous Chapters
Fragile Steps Chapters 15 & 16
TRIGGER WARNING: This story includes scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Chapter 17: Brianna
The loud ticking of the big clock hanging on the wall behind the desk was starting to get on Brianna’s nerves. Mom’s too. “God, it’s like once you notice it, it’s all you can hear, right?”
She shrugged and fidgeted with her baseball cap, desperate to rip it off and let her wounds breathe a little. Her entire scalp felt somewhere between a chicken pox itch and the sting of eating salt and vinegar chips with a cut on your lip.
Principal Munroe’s self-important secretary had only let them in to stop Mom causing more of a scene. At first, she had just tutted, pretending to check his diary. “Mrs. Harvey, I’m afraid you won’t be able to see the principal, he’s back to back in meetings all day. But I’d be more than happy to book you in early next week?”
Mom leered at the secretary with both hands flat on the desk. “Listen to me. You can write whatever the hell you want in your little diary, book me in for next year, for all I care. But I am not leaving here until Mike sees us.”
A few seconds of Mom staring her down, and the secretary caved. “Perhaps we can squeeze you in,” she said, her voice a timid squeak. “Why don’t you take a seat in his office?”
That was thirty minutes ago. Brianna had read the titles of all the books on his little shelf (autobiographies of famous athletes from three decades ago), and the engravings on the old trophies in his cabinet. She’d even managed to identify Munroe in every picture he had on the wall. He was about her age in some of them, and in considerably better shape than he was now, standing proudly among his football teammates.
At last, Munroe strolled in, carrying a plastic cup of coffee and a freshly-baked croissant. “Hi, ladies.” He squeezed past them before struggling to fit his wide hips between his desk and chair. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I do for you?”
Mom’s eyes were fixed on Munroe. “Brianna, take off your hat.”
Taking care not to rip off any scabs, she removed her baseball cap.
The color drained from Munroe’s face as he set his breakfast to one side. “What happened?”
Mom’s voice quivered with anger. “Keara McKenzie. That’s what happened.”
“I’m sorry?” Munroe kept his gaze on Brianna’s scalp.
“She jumped Brianna, and cut her hair off with a knife.”
“A knife?” Mike’s eyebrows almost touched his receding hairline. “That doesn’t sound like Keara at all.”
“It was her,” said Brianna. “She—”
Mom placed her hand over Brianna’s, signaling for her to leave it to the grown-ups. Maybe later, she’d even cut up her dinner for her.
“It happened yesterday,” Mom continued. “On the way home from school. Violet Chase and Michaela Davis were there too.”
“On the way home from school?” Mike wiped his brow with a handkerchief as his face relaxed. “I assumed you meant this happened on school grounds.”
“What difference does it make where it happened, Mike?”
“It makes a huge difference, Mrs. Harvey. You see that big iron gate out front? That’s where my jurisdiction ends. If someone attacked Brianna outside of school, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Brianna stared at him, both shocked and unsurprised. This was the man who had spent the last year pretending she didn’t exist, so what had made her think he’d help her now?
Mom shook her head in disbelief. “No, that’s not good enough. My daughter is brutally attacked by another student at this school, and you’re just gonna sit there, with your coffee and your pastry, and pretend nothing happened?”
Munroe wrung his hands together. “I wish there was something I could do, Mrs. Harvey, I really do, but this is a matter for the police department. File a report, I’m sure they’ll be glad to help you.”
“Oh that’s a great idea — why didn’t I think of that? After all, Lieutenant O’Connell and his buddies have always been so helpful to our family.”
Mike wasn’t done dishing out advice yet. He turned to Brianna. “And I think it may be best if you stay away from Keara for a while.”
Mom leaped out of her chair, banging against the desk and sloshing coffee everywhere. “How fucking dare you?” She turned and ripped the office door open. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” she said, storming out the door and down the corridor, with Brianna fighting to keep up with her, and Munroe trying to salvage the rest of his coffee.
Chapter 18: Brianna
Another clump of hair on the bedroom floor caught Brianna’s eye — why was there so much of it?
With just her little desk lamp for light, she pulled out her phone, flicking on the front camera again. She prodded at the cuts on her scalp, wincing as she picked at a flake of skin. The cuts weren’t too deep, they’d probably heal quickly enough. And her hair had always grown pretty fast. Maybe this wasn’t so bad?
She sighed. It was bad. How had she never realized what a funny shaped head she had? She looked like a circus freak, or an extra from an alien B-movie.
Tears welled in her eyes again. How could someone be so cruel? Nasty taunts, vile messages, and sneaky elbows to the back of the head were one thing, but this time, Keara had gone too far.
She deserves to suffer.
Shit. Noah — she never returned his call yesterday. It wasn’t like she could avoid him till her hair grew back, but how could she let him see her like this? Egg-shaped head, covered in hideous cuts and little wiry tufts of hair. Real fucking attractive.
Maybe she could put him off for a while. She could tell him she had a cold, vomiting bug, diarrhea — anything to keep him away. Just for a few days. Who knows, maybe my hair will have miraculously grown back by then.
She picked her phone again to call him, but a lump in her throat formed and she hung up in a panic. If Noah had answered, all he’d have heard was her sobbing. A text would have to do.
Hey, sorry I missed your call yesterday. I’m feeling really crappy :(
Think it might be the flu.
You mind if we cancel tonight? I think I’m just gonna stay in bed all day. X
She switched off her desk lamp and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She’d spent the whole of last night tossing and turning and sobbing into her pillow, but now she was suddenly wide awake. Even with the curtains drawn, it was still too bright in this room.
Perhaps some TV. One of my favorite shows was on, a sitcom she’d seen a hundred times before. The canned laughter was soothing, the colorful characters like old friends. Even though she could recite every line of every scene by heart, she still found herself laughing. She pulled her quilt all the way to her chin.
***************
It was almost dark when she woke to the sound of her phone ringing. It was Noah, of course.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Can’t avoid him forever.
“Hey.” She tried to sound like she hadn’t just woken up.
“Hey, hope I didn’t wake you. I’m at your front door.”
Fuck. “Didn’t you get my message?” She stifled a fake cough. “I’m really sick.”
“Yeah, I got your message. And your missed call. Just thought I’d check in on you.”
“Everything’s fine, honestly. I just need some rest. I think it’s the flu. You better go — I don’t want you catching what I have.”
“Okay then, I’ll leave you to get some rest. But can you come to the door quickly. I brought you some snacks to make you feel better.”
Why does he have to be so thoughtful? There must be something she could say to get rid of him. Anything to avoid answering the door and startling him with her big, misshapen head.
What if she told him to just leave the snacks on the doorstep? No, that would be rude. She could answer the door, but keep the porch light off? Nope, too weird. Maybe she could have her mom—
“Brianna? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, still here. That was very sweet of you. Just a sec.”
She snatched one of her old hoodies from the pile of clothes in the corner, throwing it on and putting the hood up. She even pulled the strings so that the hood closed tight around her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror and cringed — she looked like a disabled ninja.
Her face twitched as she reached for the front door. She’d never been a particularly good liar, but she had to pull this off. Here goes.
She opened the door.
“Hey.” Noah smiled, holding out a bag containing enough sugary snacks to give an elephant type-II diabetes. “What’s with the hood?”
“I’m… just cold.” She strained to keep her lip from trembling.
“Cold? In this sauna of a house?” Noah shook his head. I can feel the heat just standing here.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m…”
She couldn’t hold it any longer. Rivers of tears ran down her face, splashing on her hoodie. The emotion swelled inside her, erupting into a big, loud cry — a humiliating, ugly cry, right in front of the guy she liked. Fucking fantastic.
Noah crouched, embracing her a warm cuddle. “What’s happened, Brianna?”
“It’s my—my…” The more she tried to speak, the harder she sobbed.
Noah placed his soft hands on her cheeks, gazing into her eyes as he wiped away her tears. “You can tell me.”
Brianna knew what she had to do. No hiding it now.
She removed her hood.
A dark shadow swept over Noah’s face, his expression darkening. “Tell me who did this.”
“It was Keara.”
Chapter 19: Noah
Noah’s eyes were heavy by the time he left Brianna’s house. All he wanted to do was drive home and collapse into bed. That would have to wait though, because someone just made it to the top of his shit list.
Keara McKenzie, the little minx. At least, that’s all he’d thought she was — just a bully with a sharp tongue. But she was so much more. Cruel. Calculated. Dangerous. And in desperate need of a taste of her own medicine. He’d gladly be the one to administer it.
He never uttered a word of his intention to Brianna, though. His little outburst at the diner had made her suspicious that he was the one who taught Ryan O’Connell a lesson he’ll never forget. He’d seen the way she watched him at the movies, her keen eyes looking for any hint of guilt.
She was right to suspect him, of course, which is all the more reason why he’d been more tactful this time.
He’d held her, hugged her tight, wiped away her tears, while listening to the whole brutal retelling of what Keara did to her. He’d comforted her, told her that, despite how awful it was, it could have been so much worse. He’d even told her she still looked beautiful, then suffered hours of that god-awful TV show she watches around the clock.
Not once had he even hinted at retaliation. He’d played the good boyfriend all evening.
But now that Brianna was asleep, it was time for Noah the nice guy to have some fun.
***************
Keara lived in an area known as Boundary, a less-affluent place that wasn’t really part of the town. At least that’s how the good residents, with their colorful picket fences and pristine lawns preferred to think of it.
Noah drove in zig-zags to dodge the potholes, while avoiding hostile gaze of shadowy fingers on every graffiti-riddled corner.
At last, he spotted it — the tired old apartment block, with most of the windows either boarded up or smashed — an eyesore even in a place like this.
A group of disheveled men loitered in a tight circle around the grubby entrance, passing little things between each other. Probably just trading baseball cards.
He grabbed his baseball cap from the glove box, putting it on before getting out the car.
As he approached, one of the men looked over and whistles. “Hey, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here?” His voice was raspy and slurred from all the baseball cards he’d taken. “Come talk to me.”
Noah ignored him, pushing against the heavy door and heading inside.
The harsh ceiling light buzzed like a rattled insect, Its plastic cover lying broken on the floor. According to the mailboxes, “McKenzie” was apartment 4b.
The elevator doors grinded open with a rusty screech, and he stepped in, using the sleeve of his hoodie to press button “4”, while using the other sleeve to mask the smell of stale piss.
On the fourth floor, the second apartment door on the left had a faint outline in the center, a lighter shade of brown, where the metal characters “4” and “b” used to be. A chunk of the doorframe had been gouged, a testament to the safety of this neighborhood.
He stole a glance along the empty hallway as he reached for the doorknob. Surely a smart girl like Keara would know better than to leave her door unlocked? Any old rogue could enter and do god knows what.
The doorknob clicked as the door fell open. Oh Keara. You silly, silly girl.
Inside, the lights were off, the hallway dimly lit with the bluish hue coming from the blaring TV from the room ahead. As Noah moved to step inside, a shrill voice drowned out the noise of the TV.
“You know, I am sick of you being such a pussy all the time. Can’t you take a joke? Yes, it was a fucking joke, Brad. Why do you still care so much about her anyway? Oh yeah, well how come you walked to school with her yesterday, huh? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? No, shut-up, I’ll tell you how it makes me feel — fucking angry, that’s how! You’re a fucking asshole, Brad. Yeah, well, if you wanna get back with your cripple ex-girlfriend, be my guest, but don’t expect me to be waiting for you when you get bored again. No, no, don’t you dare fucking hang up on me! No — fuck you!”
A phone bounced into view, followed by Keara screaming and throwing herself across the shabby-looking, threadbare couch, then turning the TV volume even higher. Within seconds, she’s cackling away, like her heated phone call never even happened.
She was watching the same insufferable sitcom Brianna had forced upon him earlier. Maybe Brianna and Keara could one day become friends. After all, they had so much in common — same age, similar crappy taste in TV shows, and soon, they’d even have matching haircuts.
Stepping over the threshold, his nose crinkled at the smell. Keara was a smoker, and no amount of cheap perfumes or plug-in air fresheners could mask that stale, acrid scent that had permeated its way into every fiber of the apartment. Perhaps he’d open a window for her on his way out.
It was a good thing he’d peed before leaving Brianna’s house, because Keara’s bathroom was filthy. The bathtub bore a yellowish-brown stain that only years of neglect could produce. A damp towel hung haphazardly across a rack, and the window sill was packed with used toilet paper tubes.
The bedrooms were no better. The first one, Keara’s room, was a riot; an un-made bed, a full ashtray on the bedside table, and so many items of clothing covering the floor that it was impossible to tell the color of the carpet.
The other bedroom was mostly empty, and thick with dust. A bed with no sheets on it. A couple of cardboard boxes in the corner, and an old photograph on the floor — a gaunt-looking man and woman sitting on the same couch Keara was sat on now, both holding cigarettes and smiling at the camera. In between them sat Keara, a little younger, a happy innocence in her smile.
Lastly, the kitchen. Dirty dishes piled high in and around the sink, the counter covered with empty beer cans. He wasn’t concerned with Keara’s housekeeping skills, though. He just wanted to find a sharp object with which he could use to scalp her.
A couple of dirty knives lay amongst the clutter, but he’d rather avoid touching those. He rummaged through the drawers, hoping in vain that one of them contained a machete.
“Keara?” A woman’s voice floated in from the hallway.
Noah froze, clutching a grubby soup ladle. Now I’m fucked.
The woman marched past the kitchen door, a little head of tight curls behind a bulging grocery bag. “How many times must I remind you to keep the front door locked?” Her voice had the exasperation of a parent who was sick of their idiot teenage daughter. “This time you never even managed to close it — anyone could have waltzed in here.”
“Did you bring my cigarettes?” Keara replied.
“Yes, and a few groceries. This place is a mess, Keara — did you have another party?”
“Just a few friends.”
“Oh, just a few friends. How many beer cans would I find if I went into that kitchen?”
Shit. Noah wanted to run for the exit, but no. He had a job to do, and wasn’t leaving until the number of bald teenage girls living in this town had increased by one. He hopped across the hallway and into the spare room, standing just inside the door while they bickered.
“Keara, if this arrangement is going to continue to work, you need to start acting more responsible.”
“You’re right. I’m too irresponsible, I shouldn’t be living on my own.”
The woman sighed. “Can we please not do this right now?”
“Seriously, why not though?”
“You know why — I work long hours, and you don’t know the city at all. Plus, you’d have to move schools again, and you’d fall behind again. Have you been keeping up with your studies?”
“Yeah, I have actually. Nice change of subject by the way.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, there’s fifty dollars. It’s all I have on me, but that should be more than enough to see you through the weekend. I’ll be over early next week.”
“Aren’t you gonna stay for a while? We could hang out, maybe watch a movie? I think I still have a beer or two in the—”
“I have an early start tomorrow.”
Keara huffed. “Fine. Whatever.”
“I’ll make it up to you next time. We’ll go for dinner, my treat. Don’t stay up too late, okay? Goodnight, Keara.”
“Goodnight, Jill.”
Jill cleared her throat.
“Aunt Jill.”
“That’s better.”
Noah stepped back into the shadows as Aunt Jill walked past the spare room and left, closing the apartment door behind her.
The grocery bag rustled as Noah spied out the door. Keara rummaged through the bag before grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a large bag of potato chips. Then she returned to lounging on the couch, cackling at the brainless sitcom, while chain-smoking and stuffing her stupid face. What an irritating laugh she had. I bet her scream is more audibly pleasing.
He waited, watching her work her way through the entire bag of chips, the haze of smoke thickening around her.
He waited some more. She produced a large soda from the bag, guzzling it straight from the bottle before belching like a man. What a disgusting piece of vermin she was.
As time dragged, Noah shook the stiffness from his legs. He was here for the long haul.
Gradually, her cackles became more of a soft giggle. And there were fewer of them.
She pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped herself up in it.
Then her head started to nod. Down… then back up with a start. Not long now.
Down again… but it didn’t come back up this time.
Noah snuck over to the living room entrance and peered through the door. Keara was sprawled out on the couch, a clicking coming from her wide-open mouth. She was finally asleep.
But he still hadn’t found a suitable cutting implement. Maybe the knife she used on Brianna was around somewhere — her bedroom, perhaps.
Then, some unexpected inspiration came to him.
Keara’s last cigarette was still smoldering in the glass ashtray on the floor beside her. Perfect.
Creeping over to her, he bent down and picked it up, catching a whiff of Keara’s stale smoky breath at the same time. Filthy creature.
Noah took a big step back. Then, with one casual flick, sent the burning cigarette flying into her hairspray-stiff hair.
Whoosh!
Keara’s hair shot ablaze. Bright orange flames engulfed her head and the arm of the couch.
A wall of heat hit Noah, and he jumped back.
Keara’s eyes snapped open. For a heartbeat, she just stared at him like a stunned animal.
Then, realization hit. A long, agonized groan escaped her.
“Oh, my fucking god!” Keara threw herself off the couch and bolted past Noah, but he couldn’t resist sticking his leg out, sending her crashing to the floor.
She scrambled to her feet and dashed into the bathroom, staggering and bouncing off the walls on her way. Then came the sound of gushing water, and her desperate scream settled into a painful wail.
The couch was a mass of wild flames, clambering up the wall to the ceiling. Noah stifled a cough as the black smoke spread, his face flush with sweat.
It was time to leave. He ran to the exit while Keara howled in the bathtub and her living room burned.
Where the fuck is this elevator? He rattled the button, but there was no sign of it, and he couldn’t afford to wait. It wouldn’t be long before a neighbor appeared and spotted him.
The stairs, that was the better option. He ran down to the other side of the hallway, skidding round the corner to the stairwell…
… and colliding with someone.
A sharp scream — this time from an old woman — echoed off the walls. She toppled backward, limbs flailing, and hit the bottom step with a sickening thud.
Noah held his breath, frozen in place, looking down at her in horror. Is she dead?
With a groan, she sat up, wincing as she rubbed her arm.
Then she looked up at him, her face a mixture of shock and fear.
Noah kept his head down as he took the stairs two at a time and stepped over her. Then onto the next flight, then the next, then the next.
Before he knew it, he was bursting out the front door.
“Hey — it’s you again. Where you going, sweet thing? Come back and talk to us — what’s your name?”
Ignoring the catcalls, he dove into his car and floored it. The chaos behind him dissolved into smoke in the mirror.
At last, he could breathe. The shady streets were in his rearview mirror. And the sweet smell of burning hair and flesh still lingered in his nose.
That’s two, he thought.
Author’s Note:
Okay, let’s keep this quick — it’s my anniversary, and I really shouldn’t be writing!
First up: Principal Munroe. He’s the kind of guy who somehow landed an important job (probably undeservedly) and is now just trying to keep his life as easy as possible until retirement. You really see that in this chapter, where he doesn’t lift a finger to help Brianna — or do anything about the possibility of a student bringing a knife into school.
Brianna’s mom would love to go to the police about it (and probably should), but given their past run-ins — like Lieutenant O’Connell helping his son cover up the hit-and-run — she doesn’t think it would do any good.
As for Brianna, she naturally wants to keep her new haircut a secret from Noah. But unless she ghosted him for a full year, he was always going to find out.
So... what did you think of his reaction? Certainly a step up from his assault on Ryan a few chapters back, right?
Did Keara get what she deserved? She’s one of the villains of the story, so… probably. Still, it was brutal (and so much fun to write!)
Oh, and we also met Keara’s aunt — Jill. Now where have we heard that name before?
Next week, the pressure mounts on Brianna as she finds out what happened to Keara — and her suspicions of Noah only grow stronger.
Want it FOUR days early? Then show me the money :)