The Missing Piece

by Jessica Baxter

  What did I do to offend Sarah so much?

  Ian is walking beside me as we make our way to Cyprus Hall. A tingling sensation runs through my body; I glance behind me and discover Sarah is giving me evil eyes, again. I sigh and Ian gives me a quizzical look.

  Does her disdain really come as a surprise?

  It’s not like Sarah has tried to hide her contempt. Every time Ian said something and made me laugh or would lean in and whisper something in my ear, she would turn into freakin’ Medusa. I swear, if that girl had mystical powers I would have turned into a garden statue as soon as we met.

  We reach Danielle’s dorm room. The door quietly shuts behind Danielle, Calliope, and Sarah.

  Ian’s hand lingers on the doorknob. “You going to join us?”

  “No, not tonight,” I say. “I need to finish my geology homework.”

  This is a lie, and from the look, Ian’s giving me I think he knows it’s a lie, too. Call me crazy, but spending the rest of my evening with Sarah as she plots different ways to murder me does not sound like fun.

  His smile falters. “Oh, well, right.” He says twisting the handle. “See you later.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  An hour has passed since I turned Ian down and returned to my room. I’m sitting on my bed attempting to watch the top ten Disney villain songs by WatchMojo on YouTube, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything but the laughter coming from Danielle’s room. I slam my laptop shut, fling myself off of the bed and march to the door.

  Where is Matthew? Shouldn’t he be doing his rounds by now? Telling everyone to quiet down and head to bed?

  My hand lingers on the doorknob. I’m tempted to march over there and demand they shut up, but Ian is there. I jump back from the door—the way Indiana Jones would leap from a pit full of snakes. Do I really want him to see me as a raving lunatic? I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me, but I do.

  A door opens and closes out in the hall. I inch closer to my door.

  “She’s probably already asleep, Sarah.” There’s a slight edge to Ian’s voice, which surprises me. He is usually so carefree and easy-going. It seems improbable that he’d ever be upset.

  “I’m just going to check. Just give me one second.” Her voice sounds sweet as honey, but my gut tells me she’s up to something.

  Ian lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she says. “Why don’t you head upstairs? I’ll only be a minute.”

  It’s silent for a few seconds and then Ian slowly replies. “Okay.”

  I clamber onto my desk chair as quietly as possible and slowly count the seconds until Sarah reaches my door. There are three light raps on my door.

  “Emily?” She calls. “Are you awake?”

  Part of me is hopeful she wants to be friends and has come here to apologize for the way she acted earlier, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s up to no good. I force myself out of my chair, reluctantly walk to the door and slowly open it. “Hey.”

  Sarah stands in front of me, an icy smile on her face. Her hair is still pinned back, her makeup is pristine and she still looks like she’s ready to attend the Oscars even if it is going on midnight. Me, on the other hand, I’m wearing my old Ohio State University sweats, a loose-fitting Mickey Mouse t-shirt and my hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in days. Looking at Sarah, I’m a little ashamed that this is what I wore tonight at the movies.

  “It was so lovely meeting you tonight.” She pushes her way past me into my room. Then she slowly walks around the room and crosses her arms.

  I start to shut my door. “Thanks, it was—”

  “Oh, you can leave that open.” She scrunches her nose up like my room smells of week-old Tuna and not the Beauty & the Beast Enchanted Rose candle I have burning. “I won’t be staying long.”

  “Okay.” I let the door slide shut so it’s only opened a crack, before turning to face Sarah. “What do you want?”

  She takes a step towards me. “Emily, don’t play dumb, it’s belittling. You know why I’m here.”

  I stare at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I do?”

  “Mhm,” She says, flashing me a vicious smile that makes her look as cruel and ruthless as Lady Tremaine. “A little birdie told me you’ve gone all goo-goo-eyed for Ian. That just won’t do, will it?”

  Her statement catches me off guard. I point to the pictures on my desk. “I-I have a boyfriend.”

  Although things with said boyfriend have been a little rocky as of late, that doesn’t mean I’d cheat on him.

  Ian and I are just friends.

  She steps towards me again, like a lioness slowly stalking its prey waiting for the opportune moment to attack. I take a step backward, bumping into the wall.

  “You may have a boyfriend, but don’t try and act like you’re innocent. I saw the way he looks at you, how his eyes lit up whenever you mentioned those dreadful Batman comics he’s always reading. The way his fingers linger after patting your arm. The thing is he’s mine. And once I set my eyes on something I want, nobody takes it from me.”

  “We both like reading. What’s wrong with—”

  She spits in my face.

  “Don’t interrupt me. Nobody takes what is mine. Especially not a Disney-obsessed geek, who looks like she just walked off of Hillbilly Moment from the Amanda Show. You might think you’re special, but there is nothing special about you; You’re nothing but a boyfriend stealing weasel from Hicktown, Ohio and we don’t want you here. None of us do.”

  My jaw clenches. My knee-jerk reaction is to wipe away the spit, instead, I slam my palms into her chest, knocking her over. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh?” She says, bouncing back to her feet. Then she runs her hands over her head to smooth out her hair. “All my friends have talked about since school started is the pathetic, homesick, red-head that’s been following them around like a lost puppy.” A shrill laugh escapes her lips. “Did you think they actually cared about you?”

  “You’re lying.” I fervently shake my head and take a slow step towards her. “They wouldn't say that; they’re my friends.”

  “You know what is just hysterical?” I stare at her. “You thought you could steal them from me, but you can’t. I know what you’re planning on doing and it’s not going to work. They’re never going to fall—”

  “I’m not stealing your friends. They want to hang—”

  Sarah launches herself at me. Her fingers wrap around a chunk of my hair. My eyes water as she twists the hair tightly and then yanks. A burning sensation dances across my skull like my head is on fire.

  “Wanna know what Ian told me tonight?” She whispers menacingly into my ear. “He said he couldn’t wait until you were gone, so we could be alone. That he couldn’t wait to get his hands all over me.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” I push against her, trying my best to ignore the searing pain throbbing across my head as a chunk of hair rips out. As soon as I’m out of her grasp I back away, so I’m standing on the other side of the room. “He can’t stand being with you.”

  “Oh, honey. You’re so naive.” Her eyes light up ferociously. For a moment I expect her hair to catch fire like Hades. “You might make him laugh and he might enjoy your company, but he’ll come home to me every night because he’s a man, and men only want one thing don’t they?”

  My palms are sweaty. I rub them on my pants. “Don’t talk about Ian like that.”

  She covers her mouth and laughs.

  My hands tremble, as she takes another lethal step towards me. Her smile is venomous. Her hand strikes me so quickly, I’m not even sure it’s happened until I feel the sting it leaves behind. Before I can stop myself, my hand races to my face, cupping my cheek.

  Who does she think she is? First, she comes to my room accusing me of liking Ian, hits me and now she has the audacity to bad-mouth him? What does he see in her?

  Her face is so close to mine I can smell her breath. “Wha
t’s the matter? Can’t handle the truth?”

  “He’s not shallow and artificial like you. He wouldn’t stay with you because of that.”

  Her lips curl up into an evil grin.

  “Look at you, can’t even say it, can you? Sex,” she says it slowly, emphasizing each letter. “Well, this has been a lovely chat, but I got to run. Ian is probably waiting for me. And you know what? I’m going to make love to him so passionately he’ll forget about poor little bimbo Emily. Toodles.” She waves her hand and walks towards the door.

  “Your brain isn’t even connected to your mouth, is it?” I ask, before slamming the door in her face.

  It’s almost one. I’m standing outside of Danielle’s room, trying to control my sobbing, debating if I should knock or not. My first thought is to go talk things over with Ian, but Sarah stormed off fifteen minutes ago and I don’t want to have another confrontation with her. Music floats softly into the hallway from Danielle’s door, I raise my hand and knock three times.

  The music stops. I hear Danielle grumble something about Matthew and how stupid curfew is under her breath, before opening the door.

  Her face lights up when she sees me. “Hey Em. What’s—oh my God? What happened to your face?”

  My hand flies to my right cheek, it’s still a little warm. My eyes glance around the hallway one last time. “Um. can I come in?”

  Danielle nods her head somberly as she steps back and holds the door open for me.

  I grab a throw pillow from Danielle’s bed, crushing it to my chest. She quietly shuts the door and then sits next to me on the bed. “What happened?”

  I glance down at my hands. “Sarah.”

  “Sarah?” Danielle asks as I’ve just explained quantum physics to her in German.

  “Yeah.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “She stormed into my room and accused me of liking Ian.”

  Danielle gives me a curious look. “That doesn’t sound like Sarah.”

  My shoulders sag. “You think I’m making this up, don’t you?”

  “No,” Danielle says, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “I know things have been hard on her since last summer . . . but she's never been so vicious before.”

  In the past few weeks, I’ve had more girl talk with Danielle than I’ve had with Mads since I’ve come out to LA. I don’t know what will happen between Ian and me, but I do know I am not going to do anything to mess up my friendship with Danielle because she’s a friend I want around for the long haul.

  She sighs and then shakes her head. “I wish I knew what was going on, so I could help her. We used to be so close; she was my best friend.”

  I tug on my hoodie string. “What happened?”

  “She showed up one day bawling, saying her mom left, but wouldn't say anything else. After that, she stopped hanging out with me, well, with everyone, except Ian. That's why I was so excited when I saw her at the movies tonight . . . I thought things were finally going to go back to the way that they used to be, but it just wasn't the same. All she wanted to talk about . . .”

  Danielle pauses, her cheeks flushing red.

  “What?”

  “She kept asking about you and . . . Ian?” Her nose scrunches up as she looks at me as if she's trying to solve a complicated problem and the answer is right in front of her.

  I sigh. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “A few weeks ago, Ian came to my dorm and dragged me to the park with him. He got a call from Sarah while we were at the park. I kind of overheard everything she said.” I glance at Danielle. “Remember how you said Mason has been treating me like a doormat?”

  She nods her head.

  “I'm not sure if Mason is treating me like a doormat or not . . .” Danielle opens her mouth to object, but I hold my hands up stopping her. “There's a lot that's been going on, since before I even came out here and I need a chance to process everything, but I-I think Sarah is treating Ian like that . . .”

  “Why do you say that?”

  It pains me to have to repeat Sarah’s words, but Danielle and Ian have been friends for years, maybe she’ll be able to help him. “She asked him ‘If I don’t love you, who will?’”

  “Really? He seemed happy to be with her tonight, and even though her mind was preoccupied with—” she gestures to me. Her eyes brighten. “Wait . . . do you like Ian?”

  “Yes, I mean, no.” I sigh defeated. “I don't know.”

  I try ducking my head before Danielle sees my flaming cheeks.

  Her eyes scan my face. “It's hurting you that he's in so much pain. You really care about him.”

  “Does it really even matter? I have a boyfriend and he’s dating Sarah.”

  “It matters, Em,” she says, squeezing my hand. “You should tell Ian. He deserves better. You both do.”

  “Yeah, he does.” I stare at my shoes, unable to meet her gaze.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The rest of the week is dull and uneventful because I’m avoiding Ian. Not that I want to, but I’m certain if I’m within a 10-foot radius of him Sarah’s little birdie will inform her and I’ll have the Evil Queen knocking down my door once again. A shiver runs down my spine just thinking about my confrontation with Sarah four nights ago.

  Is Danielle her spy?

  Uncertainty overwhelms me, making it hard to think of anything else. I bite my lip, letting my mind wander to my conversation with Danielle a few nights ago. She seemed genuinely sad that her relationship with Sarah had fizzled out . . . but would she betray me to win Sarah's friendship back?

  Stop it. I tell myself, taking a deep breath. Everyone is NOT out to get you. Relax, Em.

  I shift uncomfortably in my chair. It feels like months since I've last talked to Ian. He tried talking to me Wednesday morning, asking what Sarah said, but I pretended to be absorbed in Mr. Miller’s demonstration on volcanoes and lava flow. As soon as class ended, I darted from the room, avoiding our usual table in the cafeteria for lunch. Instead, I ate my lunch in the library, helping Mr. Allen with book returns.

  Thursday Ian tried cornering me after American History, but right before the bell rang I passed a note to the girl in front of me, claiming Ian wanted to ask her something and was able to get away before he could corner me.

  It is now Friday and I’m waiting for my final class to end. Ian hasn’t talked to me once today and that disappoints me. Today during geology he sat at the front of the class instead of taking his usual seat next to me in the back. I couldn’t help but notice his absence at our table during lunch and then during American History, he kept his eyes glued to his notebook, even though Mr. Schmidt had split us into study groups.

  His silence shouldn’t bother me this much, but it does. Does he know what Sarah did? I doubt she’d want to ruin her wanna-be-angel reputation and tell him what happened, so that leaves Danielle, but my gut tells me she won’t bring up our conversation either.

  As much as I try I can’t shake the thought that’s been festering inside of me since I met Ian. Sarah’s accusations bash against my brain like a swarm of angry bees. You may have a boyfriend, but don’t try and act like you’re innocent. I saw the way he looks at you . . . Warmth seeps to my bones, my pen stopping mid-scribble, but this time when the thought comes I don’t push it away, instead, I let it consume me.

  I like him. I like Ian.

  My stomach twists in knots. The way his fingers linger after patting your arm. I suck in a ragged breath. Does Ian like me? I slam my notebook shut, a sharp sadness ripping through my chest. What am I doing? Have I not learned anything? Even if Ian does like me, I have a boyfriend. Mason might not be Prince Charming, but he is mine, while Ian on the other hand, isn't even speaking to me . . . not that it's his fault. Not to mention he's dating the Freakin' Evil Queen.

  Do I really want to tangle with that?

  I glance towards the front of the class, Mr. Allen is sitting at his desk reading a book. He gave us a free period to work on
our young adult author presentations, but I can’t seem to focus on anything but my confrontation with Sarah. And, while we only have forty minutes left of school I can't stand to be here another minute. I shove my belongings into my backpack, push my chair back and walk towards Mr. Allen’s desk.

  He looks up as I reach his desk. “What can I do for you, Emily?”

  My head feels fuzzy, the way I imagine a hangover feels. My palms are sweaty and my stomach is lurching back and forth like I’m stuck on The Tower of Terror ride at Disneyland. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “You don’t look so good,” Mr. Allen says, looking me over. Then he glances at the clock. “ Why don’t you just head home?”

  I nod, appreciatively, before leaving the classroom.

  When I get back to Cyprus Hall I feel a little better. I’m sitting at my desk trying to build up the courage to open my email and write Mason. I decide to tell him everything that’s been going on with Ian, my fight with Mads and my new friends. I tell him about my classes, colleges I’m thinking of applying to and how much I miss him. I apologize for the way I’ve been acting and promise that I’ll be a better girlfriend. Then I ask him how things are going at the orphanage, about his friends and any adventures he’s been on lately. I close the email with, I love you, Emily. Then quickly hit the send button before I can second guess everything.

  With that done, I grab my school books and start working on my homework for the weekend. I’m halfway through my geology homework when there’s a knock on my door. “Emily?”

  My heart speeds up, despite my brain telling it not too. I push my chair back and open the door. “Hey.”

  Ian leans against the door frame, his face is an unreadable mask. “We need to talk,” he says. “Can I come in?”

  I glance around my room, trying to find an excuse and my eyes land on my geology book. “I’m actually working on homework. My father would kill me if I let my grades drop. Maybe another time?”