The Thrashers

by Julie Soto

The night I died was supposed to be my prom night.

Because if she wasn’t there, she wouldn’t exist.

If Jodi’s dad won the award for “Least Involved,” then Julian’s dad was runner-up, but in Ray Hollister’s case, it was more to do with indifference, Jodi thought.

“Don’t be a martyr, Julian. It doesn’t suit you.” She climbed up into the bed of the truck.

Her lips pressed together. She didn’t know why she was fucking crying about Julian Hollister not getting to play water polo.

“Jodi,” Detective Harding said softly, friendly, “have you ever worried that you were going to be Thrashed?” Her eyes welled. Every day of my life

“I know. But it’s you versus them now.” He stretched his legs out and smiled, winking at her. “It’s going to be carnage.”

Jodi blinked at him. “Oh, sure. Yeah, I’ll … yeah.” He nodded, and it seemed he was back to not looking at her. Jodi swallowed. “Glad you’re not dead,” she said quickly and spun on her heel, hurrying out the door and shaking her head in panic. “Glad you’re not dead,” she whispered to herself. “Great job, Jodi.”

If she’d ever seen Julian Hollister in a socially awkward moment, she would have said this was one of them. It wasn’t until she was chowing down on mozzarella sticks and sharing a strawberry milkshake with Nikita that she realized she hadn’t thanked him for coming.

but he started asking her for her notes after class, walking back to her locker with her. Then he would ask about the drawings in her locker or stay and poke fun at her clothes, but it was lighter—less cutting. In retaliation, she’d started drawing pictures of him being torn apart by wolves in the margins of her notes.

It was too quiet. The silence forced her to face him. There wasn’t pity in his gaze or a rush to say the right words. He just looked at her and saw her. “Maybe she did. But I don’t want you to,” he said. Like it was as simple as that.

And she wondered what it was they were doing, and if it was wise to let him crack her chest open a second time, just to see if he fit inside.

He pushed open the door and stopped to wait for her. “That’s your problem, Jodi. You’ve always thought there’s someone more special, more deserving. Zack Thrasher’s life, his comfort, his happiness—it’s always been more important to you than anyone else’s.”

“She was there? That’s such bullshit. You had the upper hand with Emily, and you know it. I would have given anything for you to look at me—to listen to me, to see me—and think, ‘she’s here.’ I’ve been here

But Greg had nodded and asked softly, “And where are you living now?” It wasn’t until she’d responded “With my aunt and grandma” that she realized Greg wasn’t asking questions as a lawyer, but as a father. Her eyes had welled with tears, and she’d sniffed them back.

“Jodi, I knew what I was doing when I gave you that USB.” There was that look in his eyes again, like he was tired. He stepped back and tossed over his shoulder, “Leave me a ticket at the box office, yeah?” as he walked away. Jodi stared after him, wrapping her mind around the next truth she had to tell and wishing she’d had more time with this version of him.

Jodi’s eyes narrowed. “Did you put that light in Paige’s photos, too?” “No?” Hannah looked at her curiously. “What light?” Jodi felt a chill crest over her shoulders but waved away the question.