Red. Erica Spindler

      She curled her fingers into fists. Because of who he was, he thought he could get away with anything. “Hello,” she said, digging her nails into her palms, her voice high.

      He smiled again, this time broadly for Miss Opal’s benefit. “I haven’t seen you much around school. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

      Aware of Miss Opal’s gaze, she shook her head, her mouth dry. “Nowhere. I’ve been…nowhere.”

      Ricky picked up the bottle of shampoo and tossed it to Tommy. “We’ll catch up with you later, Becky Lynn. Right, Tommy?”

      The bottle slapped against Tommy’s palm, and he wrapped his fingers around it. “Yeah. One of these days.”

      A sound of fear escaped her, small and breathless. It slipped unbidden past her lips, and Miss Opal looked at her sharply. “Becky Lynn, that delivery of products still needs to be unloaded and checked in. It’s in the storeroom. See to it now, please.”

      Becky Lynn nodded, relief stealing her breath. She turned and fled to the storeroom. Once there, she brought her trembling hands to her face. “We’ll catch up with you later,” Ricky had said. “One of these days.” Tommy had agreed.

      She had been right to feel threatened; she hadn’t been paranoid. Ricky and Tommy hadn’t forgotten her; they had just put her on hold.

      From out front, Becky Lynn heard Miss Opal tell the boys goodbye and to say hello to their mamas, then heard the bell jangle against the door.

      Bitterness rose like a bile in her throat; tears burned the back of her eyes. No one would ever believe Tommy and Ricky were anything but model young gentlemen, no one would believe they could do any wrong. Not them, not two of Bend’s favorite sons.

      Becky Lynn crossed to the product shipment and knelt on the floor beside the box. She took out the packing list, the printed words and numbers swimming in front of her eyes, her tears making reading it an impossibility.

      Where could she hide? How could she protect herself? She lowered her head to the box and rested her forehead against it. The tears slipped down her cheeks and off the tip of her nose, splashing onto the packing list clenched in her hands. She had no one to turn to, no one who would believe her.

      “We need to talk.” Miss Opal came into the room, shutting the door behind her.

      Becky Lynn wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then darted a look over her shoulder. Miss Opal stood just inside the room, hands on her hips, her expression stern. “Ma’am?”

      “Becky Lynn Lee, I want you to tell me what’s going on with those boys.”

      Becky Lynn gazed at the other woman, a glimmer of hope blooming inside her, pushing at her fear and despair, at her loneliness. She could tell Miss Opal. Miss Opal would believe her.

      She drew in a shuddering breath. “You mean Ricky and Tommy?”

      “Yes.” The hairdresser took a step toward her, shaking her head in disappointment. “Just because some folks around Bend think you’re trash doesn’t mean you have to act like it.”

      Becky Lynn frowned, her heart beginning to pound. “Wh-what do you mean?”

      “You’ve been sleeping around with those boys, haven’t you?”

      “No!” The word ripped from her as she jumped to her feet. She faced her boss, hurt and betrayal swelling inside her, souring in her mouth. The only person who had ever been supportive and kind, the only person she had ever thought she could, just maybe, turn to, believed she was no better than a tramp.

      “I would never…those boys…they—”

      “Becky Lynn Lee,” Miss Opal interrupted, her expression and tone righteous, “you listen to me. Your reputation is yours alone. Nobody can take it from you, and likewise, only you can throw it away. And once it’s gone, it can never be retrieved.”

      Becky Lynn thought of that day by the river, her head filling with the memory, her stomach turning with it. Ricky and Tommy had touched her when she hadn’t wanted to be touched, they had taken without asking, without consent. She would never feel clean again.

      She faced Miss Opal, all her hurt, all her anger and fear, her humiliation, rushing to her lips. “You’d never think those boys would do something wrong…something awful! Oh, no, not fine upstanding boys like Tommy Fischer and Ricky Jones. You could never imagine that they might…that they might hurt me.”

      Becky Lynn fisted her fingers. “I thought you…cared about me. I thought you believed I was something better than everyone else did. I see now that I was—”

      She choked back the words, and swung away from Miss Opal once more, curving her arms around her middle, holding and comforting herself because no one else would.

      “What are you saying, Becky Lynn? Did those boys—” The older woman cleared her throat. “Did they touch you?”

      “Yes,” she whispered, not turning, not wanting to see Miss Opal’s expression.

      Miss Opal’s silence deafened. Becky Lynn turned and faced her, spine ramrod straight. “What are you going to do now? Fire me? Call me a liar?”

      For a long moment, Miss Opal said nothing. Then she sighed, the sound old and defeated. “I’m sorry, child. So…sorry. I do believe you.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Though I wish I didn’t.”

      Miss Opal sighed again. “You were behaving so strangely…and those boys, there was something about the way they looked at you. I jumped to the conclusion that you…had…that you were…”

      Sleeping with them. Just the way poor white trash would. Becky Lynn lifted her chin defensively and drew in a ragged breath. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered, her voice thick. “If I’m not fired, I’ll finish unpacking that order now.”

      Miss Opal touched her shoulder lightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “Please forgive me.”

      Becky Lynn shuddered. Miss Opal’s touch was gentle, reassuring.

      She would love to be held, would love to lean against the older woman and sob out her fears. She would love to forget what Miss Opal had accused her of. But she knew better than to do any of those things. When she forgot her place and who she was, she got hurt.

      She shrugged off Miss Opal’s hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

      “But I will worry about it. I’m fond of you and…and I feel terrible about what I just suggested. You’re a good girl, and I knew you wouldn’t do that, but I… Look at me, Becky Lynn. Please.”

      Becky Lynn turned and met her boss’s eyes. Miss Opal looked genuinely distressed. Her already hawkish features were pinched, her eyes soft with regret. As she gazed at the other woman, some of her anger, her indignation, slipped away. Even as she softened, she inched her chin up.

      “You’re right to be angry with me. I was wrong, and I’m terribly sorry.” Miss Opal caught her hands. “Now, Becky Lynn,” she said quietly but in a tone that brooked no argument, “I want you to tell me what those boys did to you.”

      Becky Lynn shook her head and tugged against the other woman’s grasp. “I’m fine.”

      “That’s not what I asked you, Becky Lynn Lee.” She tightened her fingers. “What did those boys do to you?”

      Becky Lynn gazed at Miss Opal, the truth pressing at her, begging to be told. She sucked in a deep breath. She wanted to tell; she wanted someone to believe her. She wanted Ricky and Tommy to be punished.

      But she was afraid.

      As if reading her thoughts, Miss Opal reached out and tipped her chin gently up. “You can trust me, child,” she said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “I promise I’ll help you if I can.”

      Becky Lynn lowered her eyes to her