The last time Joanna saw Ryan, someone died. Still, unlike everyone else, Joanna trusts Ryan.
But does she trust him enough to help her enact revenge on her high school nemesis, who bullies her cruelly and mercilessly?
Does she need to trust him, if she doesn’t care about the consequences?
A dark, young adult fantasy tale about bullies, revenge—and unexpected consequences.
The Other Carly
The door to my hiding place slid open and I burrowed deeper under my arms against the old plywood tabletop that had been the only furniture in the run-down wilderness tree-fort for the last five years.
“Joanna Richards,” said a voice that was whisperingly familiar. “My how the mighty do fall.”
Footsteps, then a warm pressure against my side. I cracked an eyelid open to peek at the boy from under my arm, to see if the face would remind me why I knew the voice.
Decently-muscled shoulders, longish neck, dark hair… My eyebrows lowered. I couldn’t see his face, but that jawline definitely reminded me of someone.
He shifted. “You’ve grown up.”
Ah. Not a boy. Ryan.
I sighed and pressed my face back against the faint wood smell of the tabletop. “If you’ve come to patronise me,” I said, “don’t. My day has been shite enough as it is.”
He was quiet for a second, then drew a little away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, the last time I saw you, you were thirteen and berating the house mistress who tried to punish you for shinning out the dorm window.” He snickered, then gave a contented little sigh. “Her face is etched into my memory for all time.”
In spite of myself, I smiled a little. “Yeah. That was a good moment.”
“Yeah.” He drifted away for a moment into a happy little reverie. “But anyway, moving on. What’s up with you? Why are you in here? I thought we only used this place when the parents came to visit.” He sat bolt upright. “They’re not in town, are they? Because my folks are with me, and if—”
I pushed myself out of my slump and rolled my neck. “Dude, chill. No parents. It’s fine.”
His brow wrinkled. “Then why are we in here?”
I shrugged one shoulder and stared at a stain on the counter. “I went to Carly Davies’ party today.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “We like her now?”
“Pft.” I cut him a look. “What do you take me for?”
“So why did you—Oh.” Glum understanding clouded his face. “It goes like this: you pick someone easy—”
“Hey!”
“Alright, someone you were friends with then, a long, long time ago, but who saw you once for what you really are and did the smart thing and ditched you.
“Only you can’t believe that’s true, even now, and so you invite them, and beg and plead, and promise you’ll be friends again, that you’ve seen the error of your ways and if only they would just come to your party,” Ryan said in his best falsetto, clasping his hands under his chin and fluttering his eyelashes, “the rainforests will stop disappearing and climate change will be averted.
“Only then, when they come, you laugh. You laugh loud and long, and all your cronies laugh too, and you tell yourself that they deserve it because they ditched you—but really it’s because you’re empty inside.”
He straightened. “Am I right?”