Maybe you have more than one! That’s awesome. But just one is enough, believe me.
That’s not to say I’m all kumbaya about my ex-BFF’s. Not sure I’ll ever actually get to the whole forgiveness part. I still hate them. I admit it. And I’ll say it again. I hate them. I hope to get to a point where I don’t hate them anymore. Did you know the opposite of hate isn’t love? It’s actually apathy. I read that on a website yesterday about how to stop hating people. LOL. Makes sense, right? So, I need to just not give a dang about the BFH’s. That’s hard. But it’s a goal I can work toward. The whole love and forgiveness thing? No way. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Of course, I can also just wait for more karma to take care of business. But I can’t imagine I’d be lucky enough for karma to strike twice. That was a joke by the way. I have a sick sense of humour sometimes.
***
I didn’t sleep again. Another night of tossing and turning and squeezing my eyes shut, begging my brain to shut off. Whoever thought of counting sheep is an asshole. I got up to five hundred and four before quitting. There was no progression toward sleep but I sure felt like I was losing my mind. The last time I looked at my alarm clock, it read four thirty. When my alarm went off two hours later, I wanted to cry. Over the past few nights, I have had a total of four hours of sleep. I can barely function at school anymore. I just want to sleep. The upside is that the cop has not returned to do more questioning. And, Alysa has been quieter than usual.
I must be feeling more positive, despite my exhaustion, because I decide today is the day to enter the cafeteria. It’s the first time I’ve ventured in since the photo. I’m not sure what possesses me to do it today. It certainly wasn’t planned. One of those what-the-heck-it’s-time-to-regain-my-life kinda’ things. After grabbing a pop, I walk toward a remote corner, planning to sit alone and quickly eat my sandwich when Alysa nudges me with her shoulder.
“Hey there pinky,” she says in that annoying cheery voice she used to use in our happy friend days. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard her talk to me like that. I look at her sideways. Don’t bother to smile as I wait for the incoming insult.
“Holy shit,” she laughs. “Talk about an evil look. Do you hate me that much?”
I roll my eyes. “What do you want?” I’m surprised by my response, but here’s the thing. I’m so done with all of it. Who would have thought a dye job would have so much influence over my thoughts? It seems to have delivered the wakeup call I needed to stop caring about her.
“What did you think of that chick cop? Complete idiot, if you ask me.”
My body tenses. “What did you think of her?” I ask, not wanting to say anything that may arouse suspicion on me. And I don’t trust the girl for a millisecond. She’d be the first to throw me under the bus if she had the chance.
“She just asked me a bunch of stupid questions about me and Fitz dating,” Alysa answers. “They’ll never know what really happened to him that night.” I feel her eyes boring into the side of my head. My chest is burning. What does she mean by that, I wonder.
“You don’t really think he committed suicide, do you?” Alysa grabs my arm. I turn to face her. Feel my skin grow hot and my throat constrict. I try to swallow but can’t.
“I don’t know,” I manage to say, looking at the silver sphere pendant hanging from her neck. I just want her to leave me alone. Walk away and never look my way again.
“But who would hate him enough to want him dead?” Sarah has joined us. She is balancing two bottles of juice and a plate with burger and fries on a tray.
“Well, let’s not pretend he was the most loved guy at Sacred Heart,” Alysa retorts, then turns to me. “You hated him.”
“He was a pig.” I say it without thinking and wish I could take the words back the second they’re out. I purse my lips. “I gotta go eat,” I try to walk away, but she follows me, with Sarah now by her side.
“Alysa,” Sarah whines. “Everyone is over there.” She jerks her head in the opposite direction.
“Then go over there,” Alysa responds coldly. “How desperate are you that you need to sit with the same pathetic people every day.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” I say, hoping to end this awkward conversation and find a quiet spot by myself. I really don’t want to resurrect my friendship with either of them.
“Come join us,” Alysa offers, with a fake lilt of friendliness in her voice.
“What are you doing?” Sarah whispers violently. “She can’t join us! Everyone hates her.”
“Why don’t you shut up,” Alysa whispers back. “Stop acting like a jealous wife and go find a seat on your own. Put on your big girl panties and act like one.”
“Guys,” I switch my gaze from one to the other. “I’m okay. I kinda’ prefer to sit alone, so don’t worry about me.” There are no two girls I’d less like to be around than you, I want to add.
“All right,” Alysa shrugs her shoulders. “We won’t force you to have friends. But in times like these, we all need to stick together, you know? I mean, someone in our school is dead. That’s, like, a big deal.”
I know she’s trying to sound genuine, but her voice comes across as cold and robotic. Like she’s saying lines for a furniture commercial. Even her frown feels forced. I notice a twitch in her eye that gets worse the longer I stare at her. That’s when I finally realize that Alysa has changed. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before. Maybe it’s me that has changed, and I see for what she truly is. Everything about her feels colder, detached. Definitely not someone I want to be around.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It is a big deal, but I’m okay. Go hang out with everyone over there. I’m good on my own.” I turn my back and walk away, feeling their eyes on me. Judging me. For the first time since the photo went viral, I feel grateful. That I’m not one of them.
It feels good to have the courage to step back into the cafeteria, but I’m already thinking I’ll be back to the library tomorrow. There’s no drama there. Nobody to interrupt me while I eat, read or sleep. And I miss the quiet. I’d forgotten how loud it gets in here. Or maybe it never bothered me before.
I finish my lunch in solitude and read my novel until I hear the bell ring, signaling it’s time to get back to class. Ugh. More Alysa and Sarah time. I’m tempted to skip the rest of the school day. Pretend I’m sick. Go home and sleep. But mom is home all day today, which means she’ll barrage me with questions if I get back early. I’m not sure it’s worth the trade-off. I’m still debating this as I walk toward my locker when I notice Sarah by my side.
“If you think you’re going to be a part of our circle again, just like that, you’re kidding yourself,” she says.
I laugh. “What makes you think I miss hanging out with you? Trust me. I’d rather die than do that. So you don’t have to worry about sharing your precious BFF with me. You get her all to yourself.”
“You may think that everyone has forgotten about what a whore you are because of Fitz’s death, but they haven’t. They’re just distracted. Everyone still hates you.”
“Thanks for the update. Here I was thinking I might get a day off from your bitchiness. But nope. You can’t seem to keep it from surfacing every time you open your mouth.”
“You think you’re so great with your pink hair and your creepy boyfriend with the tattoo. You’re both total freaks and everyone knows it but you. Everyone knows he’s a mental case. Why else do you think he meets with Alysa’s mom? Because he is a major schizo.”
It’s one thing to hear her insulting me, but something inside me snaps when she goes after Demit. Creating more rumours and lies. There is no way that Demit is seeing Alysa’s mom. She’s a psychiatrist. There’s no way he would keep that from me, if he was. It’s all too much. The hate, the lies, the death, the fucking exhaustion.
My mind turns red with rage and I don’t even realize I’m doing it until it’s too late. Lifting my backpack to my chest I ram it into her with all my might. She smashes again
st the lockers, a look of shock on her face. I hear her head hit the metal with a sickening smack. I think I’m going to throw up. A small swarm of students stop to stare at her body slumped to the floor. All I can think is, holy shit, I killed her. Oh my God. I killed Sarah.
A couple students rush to her aid. Shaking her shoulders, calling her name. I just stand there. Looking down at her collapsed body. My thoughts now catching up to my actions.
“What’s your problem?” I hear a tall kid with blonde hair yell at me. Crumbstache comes rushing to the scene, calling through the crowd that is assembled around Sarah’s body. “Everybody move away. Give her space.”
At first, I think he’s talking about me, but no. He doesn’t know yet how this transpired. That I’m the one responsible. The monster who smashed another girl against the lockers.
“What happened?” he asks the two girls flanking Sarah.
“It was her.” They point in my direction. I have yet to move an inch. Like I’m waiting for my punishment. No point in running. “She pushed her for no reason.”
When Sarah opens her eyes, I feel a rush of relief. Of course, I didn’t kill her. How ridiculous to think I’m capable of that with one silly push.
“You’ve had a concussion.” I hear Crumbstache explaining to Sarah. “We need to get you to the hospital.” He looks at me for an instant and scowls.
“I don’t know what happened, but we will discuss this tomorrow morning. We’re all dealing with a lot of stress right now. Be in the office first thing tomorrow morning to talk.”
I nod before stepping backward and walking toward my locker. I didn’t mean to do it, I want to explain. It was all her fault. Don’t you know how much abuse I’ve taken? Isn’t something going to eventually break? I can only hold it together for so long.
But they don’t want to hear that kind of bullshit. I’m the clear villain here. And if there ever was going to be sympathy for what I’ve been through, it’s gone now. I grab my things and leave the school. I can’t bear to finish out the day, and going home doesn’t interest me. Who knows how soon before the school contacts my mom with the news that her daughter almost killed one of her girlfriends. I wonder if I’ll be charged with assault. Add this to the list of accusations against me. First Fitz, now Sarah. For the thousandth time since the photo went viral, I ask myself how life got so messed up.
I could run away. Pack some clothes, raid what little money I have in my bank account and move to Toronto. Hide out in some hostel or join the runaways everyone hears about but no one knows. But I’m not sure I can handle a life on the street. I like a comfortable bed. And a hot dinner every night. Frosted flakes in the morning. No, I’m way too soft for the life of a runaway.
The coffee shop is a fifteen-minute walk away, so I decide to head there. It’s actually freezing today, and I didn’t wear my winter coat. The trek there feels longer than usual as I scrunch my fingers together to keep them from getting too frozen. Thankfully, there’s not a Sacred Heart student in sight when I arrive. Sitting with my hot tea, I close my eyes between sips and try to remember the days before I screwed up my life. It was an easier time, for sure, but I wasn’t any happier. Not really. I was oblivious. Too wrapped up in my head to notice that my girlfriends actually hated me. And that my boyfriend used me as much as a source for bragging as I did him. Likely telling his buddies about everything I did to please him. While I got to carry the honour of being the girlfriend of the hottest senior in school. A fair trade off, I guess. But, not really. My life had turned to shit long before it became clear to me.
“Hiding out in the coffee shop?” I jerk my head toward the voice and see Alysa. Oh mercy. Definitely not the person I want to see right now. Well, ever. I sigh.
“When did you get so bad ass, Lana?” She has a coffee in hand already.
“I don’t feel like talking right now,” I mutter, staring into my tea. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Shouldn’t you?” She asks, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down. “I heard what happened. Sarah’s a bitch. I’m sure she deserved it. Remember that time in grade eight when she told everyone we were the ones who had written nasty things about the new girl in the bathroom?”
I shake my head. “Actually it was you that accused me and Sarah of doing it. Remember?”
“Oh whatever. You know what I mean,” Alysa flips her hair. “She did that kind of thing all the time.” I lift my head to look at her, ready to finally tell her what I think about her. A self-absorbed, lying, two-faced, pathetic excuse for a human being. But something stops me. Her eyes are like sunken beads, surrounded by black circles. I wonder when was the last time she slept a full night. Like me, she appears to be barely holding it together. But I don’t know what her excuse is.
“You okay?” I ask. It’s more out of curiosity than concern.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks. “Do I not look okay?” She looks over her shoulder. “Did you hear something? Like a clanging sound.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“That…” She twists her head to the left. “Did you hear it? That annoying sound.”
I listen to the sounds of a refrigerator door opening and closing behind the counter, the swish of a cappuccino machine and shake my head again. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Do I not look okay?” Alysa asks for a second time. “I’m exhausted. Pulled an all-nighter getting a scholarship application done. My parents will kill me if I don’t get at least two. Maybe if they didn’t force me to take every shit bag science and math course on the planet, my marks would actually be high enough.”
I’m pretending to look like I care when I remember that I don’t have to pretend anymore. Old habits, and all that stuff. Yawning, I hope she gets the hint that I’m done talking to her. She’s always done well in school, so there’s no sympathy from me.
“I really should sleep, but I have to cram for a test tomorrow.” Lifting her bag onto her lap, she unzips it and pulls out a small orange container with a white lid. “Want any?” she asks, flipping the lid off and taking two white pills out.
“Are you joking?” I scowl. She shrugs, then tosses both pills into her mouth before guzzling her coffee and smacking the cup down on the table. Punching the centre of her chest with her fist, she coughs a few times. “Damn, I hate it when they get stuck.”
“What are they for? Are you sick?”
“It’s just my brother’s meds. You know he has ADD. I have to pull another late night tonight. Fuck. When am I going to stop procrastinating? Thank God for these darling little pills. They are saving my life.”
I remember Sarah’s claim about Demit visiting Alysa’s mom and my stomach curls. Does she prescribe him the same meds that Alysa’s stealing from her brother? Did Alysa give Fitz the pills the night he died? My head is spinning. I don’t want to think about any of this. I have enough of my own issues to deal with.
“That’s probably not a great idea,” I say lamely. I’m about to tell her she’s smart enough to do well without help from stupid pills, but can’t bring myself to say anything nice. Dropping my gaze to my tea, I purse my lips. There are a few other questions at the tip of my tongue. Like whether she left a comment on my blog as ICUGirl. But I’m too tired and stressed to ask them, much less hear the answers.
“I gotta go,” Alysa says with a sigh. “Let me know if you ever want to try a couple of pills. You’d be amazed at how kickass they are. I swear, they’ll change your life. I’m sure your marks could use a little boost. Are you even applying to university?”
I shift my eyes up to meet her face. “I’m good.” I respond, shaking my head and doing my best to indicate disgust.
“Fuck. don’t be so judge-y,” she rolls her eyes. “Why do you think Demit is such a brainiac? He’s on the same damn meds.” My chest tightens. How on earth would she know that? Unless Sarah was right. He’s being treated by her mom and somehow word got out about it. The thought sickens me.
�
��Pardon?” I ask, playing stupid.
“Oh shit,” Alysa bits her lower lip. “You didn’t know, did you? Forget I said anything. I shouldn’t be talking about this stuff anyways.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I respond coldly.
“What else don’t you know about him, Lana?” She cocks her head to the side. “Hmm?” I simply stare at her. Can’t think of any kind of response. I’m about to tell her to go to hell when she turns around and walks off. Instead, I take a few deep breaths and try to wave off her words like they’re pesky flies buzzing inside my head. No business there other than to irritate me. But I know the seed of doubt has already been planted. How well do I really know Demit?
Chapter 14
Best Friends Forever
I wish I’d stayed in my pyjamas. I wasn’t even fifteen minutes into the school day when the vice-principal calls me to her office to inform me I’ve been suspended for one day, effective immediately. The good news is that Sarah is going to be fine. She needs to hang out in a dark room for a few days to treat the concussion, is all. I guess it’s also good to know that, apparently, she’s not going to charge me with assault.
I didn’t earn any brownie points when I laughed at that. The vice-principal had asked me what I found so funny.
“You have no idea,” was all I could muster. When she pried me to share more details, I said nothing. It would take at least an hour to list all the ways she and Alysa have abused me. But, all I want more than anything is to put this behind me. Get through the school year and never see or speak to anyone related to this school again. Except Demit. But I’m even wondering about him, now. How well do I really know him?
It was a long walk home. Although the vice-principal had advised my mom to pick me up when she shared the good news over the speaker phone, she said she couldn’t leave work any time soon. I was relieved. All I want to do is go back to bed. Last night was as restless as the one before it and my eyes can barely stay open by the time I walk in the front door. But, lucky me. Mom is home, after all.
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