Like Lana

by Danielle Leonard

  “Fine. I’ll get it right now. But then I’m going home. No party, no nothing. Just grab the scarf and go home.”

  Alysa parks behind a car a few houses down from Stu’s place. In fact, the street is lined with cars and music is streaming from his house.

  “You failed to mention that it’s Stu who’s having the party,” I say dryly to Alysa.

  “Didn’t I tell you that? I’m sure I did.” She gets out of the car without even glancing at me. She knows she has won this last battle. I’m seething, but remind myself all I need to do is step in the front door and grab the scarf. Then get out of there. Easy peasy.

  The door is practically pulsating from the beat of the music. I don’t have any idea why we even bothered to ring the doorbell. My stomach is in knots again. After tonight, I hope and pray that I never step foot into this house again.

  “Just walk in,” I say, not hiding my growing irritation. Alysa opens the door and we are greeted by a couple making out at the bottom of the stairs. I don’t recognize them so assume they’re from the other high school in town. They stop when we walk in and move to a dark corner.

  “So where is it?” I yell over the music to Alysa who is already wandering off. “Alysa!” I yell even louder but it’s of no use. Either she’s ignoring me or can’t hear me. Mercy. There are coats hanging on a line of hooks to the left of the door, above a bench with baskets beneath it. I decide to start looking through the coats. As quickly as possible, I look under every coat and jacket to search for my turquoise and grey scarf. When I get through that, I drop to my knees and pull out the first of three baskets, rummaging through it until I know with certainty the scarf isn’t there. Do the same for the other two baskets. Nothing.

  Quel surprise. More lies. I rest my elbows on the bench and drop my chin into my clasped hands. I’m feeling so frustrated at this moment, I don’t know if I should chase her down and strangle her or cut my losses and leave.

  “What are you doing?” I turn my head and look up to see Stu staring down at me with a perplexed look.

  “Where the hell is my scarf!”

  “It’s still in my room. You want me to get it?”

  “Yeah, like right now.”

  He shrugs and turns to go upstairs when Tracy stops him and wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. She pulls him away from the stairs and into the family room where everyone seems to be congregating.

  “Are you kidding me?” I yell after Stu. I really do hate all these people. The one positive outcome from all this is that I realize how much happier I am without them in my life. I take the stairs two at a time and head into Stu’s bedroom. Scanning the room, I try to find my scarf. At first, I can’t see it. But after a few minutes of looking, I finally spot it folded on the floor between his bed and dresser, beneath a textbook. I am so relieved I think I actually smile as I pick it up and wrap it around my neck. I look in the mirror. Can’t resist. It’s such a beautiful scarf.

  “Admiring yourself?” Stu is standing at the doorway. Walking in, he closes it not quite all the way.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, looking past his shoulder. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Lana, I just wanted to say something,” he puts his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunch forward. “About last night.”

  I don’t get the impression he’s about to attack me, so I stand quietly and wait.

  “About everything. Listen, I’m sorry. I was out of line last night and the photo.” He sighs. “I was wrong to share that photo of you with anyone. I, honestly, did not expect it to spread like it did. I only sent it to one person, I swear.”

  “You know what, Stu?” I cross my arms. “You were always an asshole. I knew it before we started dating. I knew it when we were together. You’re too pretty to not be a dick with girls like me throwing ourselves at you. You don’t have to work at making a girlfriend happy because there’s always a lineup of them waiting for your affection. I was just another one in the lineup. So, I guess, in a way, that’s something you have to learn to live with. Being a natural asshole. But I accept your apology. It’s all over now. I want to move on.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Consider this a first step in your journey towards becoming a decent guy.” I laugh, slap him on the back.

  “Friends?” Stu asks, his arms outstretched. I look at him, wonder if he’s putting me on. It doesn’t seem like it. And even if he is, do I really care? No, I don’t.

  “Friends.” I give him a hug. It feels like a genuine friend hug. He makes no effort to grab any extra parts of my body. As we pull away from each other, I notice Alysa is standing at the doorway with her phone up in the air.

  “Did you just take a photo of us?” I ask.

  She smiles sweetly. “It was such a nice make-up hug. I thought you guys would like me to send you a copy.”

  “What’s your problem?” I ask, stepping toward her. “Delete the damn photo.”

  She pops her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “What are you talking about? It’s just a photo. God, you’re so paranoid.”

  “Delete the photo, Alysa.” Stu adds. “Lana has been through enough. Just let her be, would you?”

  “Fuck off Stu.” Alysa shoots the words out like venom.

  “You’re a bitch, Alysa,” Stu starts. “It was you more than anyone who made sure everyone saw Lana’s photo. I’m not stupid. I heard how you talked about your supposed best friend every chance you got. Calling her names. Making sure everyone hated her as much as you did. It was probably you who sent the photo to everyone in school. Wasn’t it?”

  Alysa lifts her palm to her chest and lets out a breath of disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re trying to put that all on me!” She turns to look at me. “Wasn’t I the first one to start talking to you again? To invite you back into the fabbies?”

  I’m not surprised by Stu’s accusations. Certainly, I’ve had my suspicions that she was the ring leader. But it continues to sting, no matter how many times it’s thrown in my face.

  “I don’t care.” I say quietly. “I don’t care about you or Stu or Sarah or Tracy or anyone else. I just want out.” I grab the container of pills from my purse, open the lid and whip the contents at her face. The pills scatter across the room and hallway.

  “Bitch!” Alysa drops the floor, scrambling to find them. I step over her hunched back, stomp down the stairs, and open the front door.

  “You will be sorry,” Alysa yells from the top of the stairs. I look up at her. She’s dressed in all black. Her hair tied back tightly. For a second, she looks like a witch. A shiver runs down my spine. Then I turn and slam the door behind me.

  Chapter 18

  Just Keep on Walking

  My throat is scratchy as I walk home. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was coming down with a cold. Don’t know how much longer I can handle all this drama and stress. My heart is beating wildly and I’m trying to catch a full inhale as I cross the street. My breath can’t seem to travel beyond the centre of my chest. It gets stuck there, as if hitting a trap door, bouncing back up my throat without having a chance to settle anywhere in my body. I try to slow the breaths down, but it’s not helping.

  I just need to drop into my bed and sleep. For days. Even better, sleep until the school year is over. Let this misery bypass me so that when I wake up I can start fresh. Demit has texted me about ten times in the past hour asking how the pill meeting went. I can’t even begin to explain the crap that went down in a text.

  As a car slows beside me, I pick up my pace. My heart pounding. Just what I need. An abduction.

  “Lana.” I hear Demit’s familiar voice and I am finally able to inhale a deep sigh of relief. “Get in. What are you doing by yourself this late?” I walk around to the other side of the car and climb in.

  “It is such a relief to see you,” I lean over to hug him and plant a kiss on his mouth. “What a night.” Demit starts driving.

  “You didn’t answer my texts,” he say
s. I ignore the slight accusatory tone in his voice.

  “Sorry. I had too much to tell you to fit in a text. The night did not go as planned, I can assure you.”

  “I guess not. I don’t remember us discussing a stop at Stu’s house.” I let silence fill the car. Wondering if he is accusing me of something. And how does he know I was at Stu’s?

  “No, it wasn’t part of the plan. And I didn’t want to go, but Alysa kind of forced me into it. I needed to get my scarf, and…” I stop, fold my arms over my chest.

  “Why should I explain myself to you. Am I on trial here? Do you actually think I want to spend time with those assholes? How do you know, anyways? Are you following me?”

  “I got a photo sent to me from Alysa. Of you and Stu with your arms around each other.”

  I roll my eyes. “So I am on trial. Now I have to explain myself to you, too. Like I don’t have enough enemies in my life. Like I’m not already so alone, just trying to keep my head above water. Trying to not be thrown in jail. Trying to juggle Alysa’s psychotic demands. Now I have to explain my motives to you? Stop the car.”

  “Lana, please. I was only asking a question.” Demit reaches over to grab my hand but I pull it away.

  “Please let me out of the car.” I put my hand on the door handle and start to open it.

  “Are you crazy, wait!” Demit grinds the car to a stop. “Please don’t leave. Let me at least drive you home. I’m sorry, okay?”

  I open the car door and get out. “I am so tired of everything. I need at least one person I can count on. Who completely trusts me and is there for me. I thought that was you.” I shut the door and cross the road to the sidewalk to finish my walk home. It’s only a couple minutes away.

  Demit rolls down the passenger window to try talking to me, but I don’t hear what he’s saying. Shut him out completely. His car falls behind me and finally drives off after I walk up my driveway.

  October 27

  Follow Your Gut and Keep Walking

  Ever notice the more you try to do the right thing, the more life screws with you? It makes no sense, believe me. And perhaps it’s just my own messed up life. Sometimes I wonder if I’m in upside down world here. Where not a single thing makes sense. And every time I try to flip it back to upside up, things get worse.

  I guess it goes to show that I don’t know what upside up is. Maybe I’m living in upside up already and just can’t accept that this is the way my life is supposed to be. Whether I like it or not. Is the key to being happy giving in to whatever life throws at me and move with the flow? Damn, that’s a tough pill to swallow. But don’t get me talking about pills.

  My latest drama is all because of pills. I get the desire to escape. Run away from the pressures and stresses of living. Smoke a joint, get loaded one night on your parents’ most neglected bottle of alcohol. Trust me, I’ve been there. But taking pills every day to be someone other than who you are meant to be? No, it doesn’t make sense. As much as I want a break from my circumstances, I have no interest in changing who I am.

  I’ve been blackmailed into supplying pills to one of the BFHs. And, yes, you know who you are... I’m sure you’re reading this. She’s addicted to ADD meds to get better grades. As much as I dislike this girl, it kills me that someone like her who is already so smart needs to rely on pills to be even smarter. I won’t even get into how I’ve become the supplier because it’s so convoluted that it’ll make your head spin.

  Life keeps getting messier. I try to claw my way out of this hole but it’s like someone is shoveling dirt to make sure I’m buried before I get to the surface. The thing is this. Deep down, I feel like I’ll be okay. I will survive this. I have to keep moving, that’s all. It’s like one of those crazy windy, rainy days where you’re caught outside and your umbrella gets flipped the wrong way, and you’re walking against the rain and wind, pushing to get to that warm dry place. Have you ever NOT gotten there? No. You always eventually get to the destination. You always reach the warm dry place. I guess that’s what I’m counting on. Reaching the warm dry place. I can almost picture it. My umbrella has blown away. I’m soaked. There’s lightning overhead. And it’s so dark I don’t even know if I’m going in the right direction. But my gut is leading me somewhere. So I’m going to trust my gut. Know that it’s right. To be honest... Do I have any other choice?

  So, if you’re in a similar situation. Your friends hate you. You’re alone. You want to DIE. Hang on, ok? We’re all gonna get where we need to go. Just keep frigging walking.

  ***

  A canker has bloomed. Every time I move my mouth, it feels like a needle is pushing into my gums. Add a scratchy sore throat and I decide that I’m not getting out of bed today. I roll over, throw my pillow over my head and fall back asleep.

  When I wake up again, Mom is hovering over me.

  “Lana? You awake?”

  “Yeah,” I scrape out. “What time is it?”

  “Around noon. Are you sick?”

  I nod, sitting up and leaning against my bed’s backboard. Mom’s in yoga clothes, still sweaty from her trip to the gym.

  “It’s already twelve o’clock?” I say. Demit must have texted me a hundred times by now. “Pass me my phone?” Mom finds it on my desk and hands it over.

  “You feel hot,” she says after resting her hand on my forehead.

  “I feel horrible,” I admit, waiting for her to leave so I can read my texts in private. “Can you pass my laptop, too?” Mom sits at the side of my bed and looks at me. Her lips are pressed together, hands folded neatly in front of her.

  “How’s school these days?” She asks. I close my eyes and let my head roll from one shoulder to the next. Now? She’s choosing now to chit-chat about my life? I feel like a cat is clawing my throat and she wants to talk?

  “Mom, it’s fine.”

  “Because you seem to be really, I don’t know, absent at home. You’re always up in your room, staring at your phone, or just ignoring me and your father.”

  “Well, I’m sorry if you think I’m ignoring you.”

  “No,” Mom straightens her arms and back. Turns her head slightly and looks upward. “I don’t think you’re ignoring us. I know you’re busy. And, that’s all good. I just wonder if sometimes, maybe, we should talk more about what’s going on. I mean, I don’t know what is going on in your life. At least I used to see your friends. And Stu used to be here a lot. But now. Nothing. Is it us?”

  “No, Mom. It’s not you.” I sigh. I want to tell her it has absolutely nothing to do with her. Nobody cares about her. Nobody cares about me. “Everything is just fine. I’m busy, you know?”

  “Are you dating that other boy?” she asks. “What’s his name?”

  “Demit,” I answer quickly.

  “Yes, we’re together. But it’s… complicated.” I want to push her off my bed. Tell her to leave me alone like she does the other ninety-nine per cent of the year. I don’t need you anymore. The thought materializes out of nowhere. It takes me by surprise. It’s a sad thought.

  “Well, are you together or aren’t you together? There’s nothing complicated about that.”

  “Yes, we’re together.” I admit. “I guess.” I’m too tired and sick to say anything else.

  When Mom leaves the room, I hit the home button and watch my screen light up. Demit has sent about a dozen texts. Mostly apologies.

  I’m not sure if I should respond to him yet. Although my frustration from last night has subsided, I’m still hurt that he was so accusatory toward me. He’s certainly got a lot of nerve to accuse me of any dishonesty considering that he’s been stalking me since the beginning of the school year. And then there’s the whole issue with his father. I’m still unclear on that. Is he in a mental institution or what? Lies and half-truths.

  Then again, he left his personal journal out for me to read. So, in a way, I guess he made up for all his secrets. I tuck my phone under my pillow. Not ready to deal with all that right now.

  Aly
sa has sent me a bunch of texts, too. I reluctantly review them.

  ALYSA: I managed to pick up the mess. All good! Thanks for getting them.

  ALYSA: You missed a great party! Why did you run out so quickly? Fun was just getting started.

  ALYSA: Damn. Just counted my supply and I’m already low. I guess dipped a little too much into it last night. I need more. Call Demit.

  ALYSA: Helloooo! Where are u? Do I need to come for another visit? Text me asap. Seriously.

  I’m not sure how to answer her texts. I feel like calling her up and screaming at her. Telling her to leave me the hell alone. But that’s just stupid. I’m sure I made it clear yesterday that she would not receive any more pills from Demit. I hate to admit it, but Alysa scares me a little. She has almost single-handedly ruined my life over the course of a month. What else is she capable of doing?

  LANA: I can’t get pills. I told you I’m done. Leave me alone.

  ALYSA: One more time. I need them. You have to help me!

  LANA: Let me see what I can do. Will get back to you.

  I have no intention of getting her any extra supply. But I need time to think. To come up with a plan to get Alysa off my back once and for all. At the moment, I have no idea how I will accomplish it. I decide now is as good a time as any to text Demit.

  Thanks for apologies. Everything is fine. K? Have a new problem. Alysa wants more pills already. Frig. Not sure what to do. Open to suggestions.

  As much as I hate how he treated me last night, there is no one else in the world who can help me with Alysa. No one else who knows what I’m going through. I have no choice but to forgive him. And ask for help.