Zoology

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Meredith

      I think I knew that it was a bad idea.

    Then again, there wasn’t much going through my mind other than “HOLY CRAP”, so I guess clear thinking wasn’t a top priority. My bare feet pounded against the pavement that was wet with the rain cascading in sheets from the overhanging roofs. I swear that my heart was about to beat out of my chest, just leap from under my lacey dress and flop around on the ground, wondering what it did to deserve such torture. I know, I know- this is all very cliché, a run of the mill story starting with a very normal girl running dramatically away from all of her problems, just like every other ordinary teenage novel. 

    No, not so much. Not in my case.

    My hand was closed so tightly around the tiny golden pendant on its delicate golden chain that I was unsure how it wasn’t crushed. I was pretty sure I was about to throw up from all the running, and the only light to see by was from the neon signs jutting from their restaurants and bars that lined the deserted street I was all out sprinting along. The overall situation was overwhelmingly sketchy; and then, there was the screaming.

      It was high pitched; incomprehensible; half-Vietnamese and half-not screeching that rang in my ears. I had no idea how the plump woman, with her flowery button up shirt, khaki shorts, and neon green crocs, had kept up pace with me for a solid mile. 

     “YOU GIVE BACK NECKLACE!” she shouted yet again, but I didn’t dare look back. I just kept running, kept gasping for air, and kept reassuring myself that with every labored stride I was getting farther and farther away from the tiny shop, Cultural Jewelry for Less.  And, hopefully, from its normally cheery owner. 

    She was not cheery, however, that I had nabbed a tiny golden dragon pendant from her Sale shelf at two in the morning on a weeknight. I could have sworn she had been sleeping. 

     “Come on!” I groaned aloud, willing myself to run just a little while longer. Then, finally, FINALLY, he came.

     The cherry red Mustang convertible skidded around the upcoming block, speeding toward me and then squealing to a stop. I threw myself into the passenger side seat, shoving the necklace into my bra and banging the dashboard.

      “LET’S…..LET’S GO!” I panted, and then we were off, the Vietnamese saleswoman cursing me out from an increasing distance away in what seemed like every other language than her own. 

     “God, Mer, calm down.” 

     The lights of New York City flashed past me and illuminated the scowl growing on my face.

     “CALM DOWN?” I shrieked, banging my fist on my thigh in frustration. Then, I pointed my finger menacingly, for extra affect. “I almost got caught that time, Graham! I would have gone to freaking JAIL!” 

     “Whatever, Mer. You wouldn’t have gotten caught. I always show up in time,” Graham replied, and he sounded so stuck up that it made me feel even sicker. 

      “Meredith. My name is Meredith.” 

     I waited for the retaliation. The punch on the arm, except it was too hard and left a bruise; the smack in the back of the head that made me see stars; the slap across the face. No one back talked Graham Leighton III. No one. Not even his scrawny freshman girlfriend, who happened to somehow be me. 

      Instead of physical pain, Graham decided to dish out much worse; the verbal kind of bullying, which in my opinion is ten times as bad. I sat, rigid, waiting for his slew of insults to be over. His rant was particularly long this time; I wished he’d just punch me in the stomach. It would be quicker.

     When he was finally done, I was close to tears, even though I knew it wasn’t Graham’s fault. He had a terrible home life, a father who beat him and a mother who didn’t care if he came home at night. He only told his close friends that, so it made me feel good that he trusted me. Or, I think it did. I wasn’t really sure anymore.

     “Don’t cry,” Graham said, but instead of anger on his voice, there was only hollowness. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You only have one more challenge. Then, you’ll be one of us.”

     His words, empty and listless and emotionless, bounced around inside my head and made me feel dizzy.

     “Tonight, then?” I asked. The other “challenges” I’d been given had been spaced out over my freshman year, in order to keep things on the down low. Unlike those, however, this challenge, the big shebang, would be the second that I would complete in one night. One night…I was exhausted. I was sweaty. I didn’t know what Graham had in store for me, but I was terrified.

     “You have to break and enter.”

     I literally almost threw up. I actually, seriously gagged in the direction of the pavement that whizzed beneath us as we sped up the street. 

      “WHAT?” I shouted, pressing my palms against each side of my head in a very cartoon manner, which would have been funny if I hadn’t just been asked to commit a felony. Was all of this really that important? Was it that vital to me to be “one of them”? 

     “You either do what I want or we’re over.”

     I looked to Graham in disbelief, my jaw dropping. I was shaking now, wringing my fingers.

     “Hazing is sick and disgusting,” I hissed, but before Graham could pull over the car and kick me out, I finished, “but I’ll do it.”

     I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking as I walked, slowly, one bare foot in front of the other, up to the gate of some super fancy New York hotel. Graham had refused to tell me where it was, or what it was called; I didn’t have much of a chance of figuring it out, anyway, because he’d blindfolded me for the rest of the car ride. Now, the horizon was just barely pink with the morning light, giving me maybe twenty minutes to get the job done. 

     This was not me; the real me would be safely tucked in bed, having been asleep since precisely nine thirty the night before, all homework successfully completed and studying done. The real me would not be picking the lock to the back gate of a fancy hotel in order to achieve optimum social status. This was not me; I did not feel like me as I dropped the lock, opened the gate, and stepped forward. 

      It was the biggest swimming pool I’d ever seen.

     A huge sign above the outdoor hotel entrance and exit said some super official sounding French words, which I figured was the name of the place. The pool was one of those that had regular sides except for one, which looked like it dropped off into nothing. I would have been able to think of its name if it wasn’t four in the morning. 

     “Good,” came Graham’s husky voice, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. He was behind me, one hand on the gate, the other brushing my shoulder. “Now, go swimming.”

     “No,” I said, before I could stop myself. And then, Graham was inches from my face, his fist hovering in the air, threatening to make contact with my nose.

     “Yes,” he rasped, and I could smell alcohol on his breath. Fantastic, I thought. And then I realized how quickly he’d become intoxicated, which scared me a little bit. I tried to squirm away, as one last attempt at escape, but Graham had other plans. He took my by the blonde wavy hair, dragging me toward the water, which I knew would be ice cold. 

     “Graham, oh God, Graham,” I gasped, struggling to free myself. It was too late, though. I had no chance. He was twice my size and half drunk.

     “You stupid kid,” he roared. “So easy to take advantage of… have fun getting caught and thrown in jail.” And then he thrust me away, and I was falling backward into the frigid pool, wondering if it would be easier to just drown.