Girl on the Verge

by Pintip Dunn

  She couldn’t live like this anymore. She couldn’t be in this hellish in-between place. All she wanted was to fit in somewhere. Anywhere.

  Was that so much to ask?

  Chapter 38

  I jerk awake and look around wildly. Yellow and orange plastic chairs. A vending machine in the corner. Overhead lights that won’t stop flickering. That’s right. I’m in the visitors’ lounge at the hospital, where Khun Yai is resting after her surgery. Her successful surgery—but one that might’ve been unnecessary if I had stuck around.

  At the thought, I start shivering, every inch of my body. The thin blanket the nurse gave me does little to help. Blankets can’t fight against this kind of cold, the kind that starts deep in your core. When you face yourself in the mirror—and see the truth.

  I’m not a good Thai girl. Hell, I’m not even a good granddaughter, Thai or American. Khun Yai is right to give the sapphire and ruby necklace to someone else. Someone who doesn’t fight with her. Lie to her. Disobey her.

  I promised my mom I would stay with Khun Yai—and I didn’t. She might not have collapsed because of the pills, but if I had been there, maybe I could’ve prevented the fall. If there was an assailant, if it was Shelly or someone else, maybe I could’ve scared her off. Or maybe, if Khun Yai had just gotten confused, I could’ve helped her. Instead, I took off to pursue my own agenda. Sure, I was trying to protect us all by investigating Shelly. But there are other ways of protecting ourselves. Other ways that focus our attention on what’s truly important: our family.

  I glance around the room and realize that Shelly is no longer here. Good. She’s been here with me every minute, whether I wanted her or not. She packed Khun Yai’s clothes and her toiletries. She didn’t even forget the toothpaste or eyeglasses. She convinced Mae to go home, urging her to rest, and brought me food from the cafeteria, urging me to eat.

  In short, she’s been keeping us together while the usual backbone of our family, Khun Yai, is unable to. Maybe I should be grateful to Shelly. And maybe she’s a freaking wannabe murderer. I’m glad she’s gone. Thrilled.

  I flex my fingers. They’re empty. I’ve been so used to sleeping with my phone under my pillow that they feel strange not clutching anything.

  Where is my cell? I pat my pockets, search the end tables, rifle through every bag we brought. Nothing.

  My stomach turns. I’ve been so careful with my phone, keeping it on my body or in my hands all the time. But ever since I arrived at the hospital, I’ve been preoccupied with Khun Yai’s fate. I plugged my cell into the wall and then forgot about it.

  Wouldn’t you know it? The moment I let down my guard, my phone disappears.

  Along with Shelly.

  Chapter 39

  It was as easy as boiling rice to swipe Kan’s phone. Sure, the girl had been more careful lately, but she must’ve been really distraught about Khun Yai. She swiped her finger in the square design of her new security code right in front of Shelly. And then, she went to sleep with her cell phone right there, flung on the end table, almost begging for someone to steal it.

  Shelly was more than happy to oblige. While Kan slept like a newborn baby, she casually picked up the phone and slipped it into her pocket. Kan hadn’t even moved.

  Shelly walked to Kan’s car in the parking lot. She hadn’t even needed to steal the keys because she already had them. Leaving, of course, meant she was stranding Kan at the hospital without a ride. Not that Kan would notice. She would probably watch Khun Yai sleep for an entire week, if it came to that.

  Shelly, in the meantime, had better things to do.

  She stopped by Kan’s house briefly before driving to Ethan’s and parking on the street. Earlier, she’d listened to Ethan’s voice mail and deleted it.

  “Just got home,” he’d said, his voice low and deliciously sleepy. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to hear your voice. We won, Kan! First place in the Latin division. I can hardly believe it. I want to celebrate with you, as soon as possible. I also want to hear what you found out about Shelly.” He’d paused as though he was unsure whether he should continue. “I’ve been thinking about your lips.”

  Shelly’s toes had curled. He wasn’t saying those words to her, but she could imagine someday, in the very near future, he would. She had been so stirred up, she almost missed the betrayal he’d revealed in the previous sentence.

  Almost.

  So, Kan was digging into her past, huh? That’s why she’d talked to Mrs. Watson. It wasn’t a casual happenstance like she’d made it sound, but a deliberate decision to investigate Shelly. It didn’t matter. Kan wouldn’t find anything. Shelly had wiped her trail so clean, even Khun Yai would’ve approved.

  She got out of the car and picked up the paperweight she’d packed at the bottom of her bag—just in case. She left the paperweight on the ground and climbed a tree that was right next to Ethan’s window. She’d perfected the maneuver by now. Running jump, leap, grab onto the lowest branch and swing her legs up. Good to know all that strength training and gymnastics lessons her mother had made her take were good for something.

  She inched along the thick, horizontal branch. Oh, Ethan, please be awake.

  Normally, she didn’t mind watching him sleep, but she needed him awake for what she was planning. Indeed, on a couple occasions, she had passed the night just staring at his chest rising and falling. One time, however, he was playing video games. And another time, dear god, she was lucky enough to catch him practicing his dance moves. His shirt had been off, and his muscles had gleamed under the light. It was all she could do to hang onto the branch.

  She wanted, so badly, to watch him while she texted him. To see what her words did to his body. To watch him sprawled out on the bed, to see him sweaty and panting because of her.

  But she never had the chance. The first time, the sexting had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. After that, Kan had been warier, had kept the phone closer to her body. Did her blood sister know what had happened? Now that she’d heard Ethan’s voice mail, it seemed more and more likely.

  She reached the section of the branch where the leaves parted, giving her a perfect view into his room, and there he was, bouncing around the room like a little kid, shaking out his arms and legs. And he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts dotted with hearts.

  Her hand shot to her mouth, covering the squeal that was about to burst out. What on earth was he doing? And could he look any cuter?

  She could’ve watched him all night. Any other time, she would’ve. But that night, she had a different plan. A better plan. After all, the only thing nicer than looking at Ethan was being with him.

  Ripping her eyes away, she fumbled in her pocket for Kan’s phone and dialed Ethan’s number from memory. By the time she looked back at the window, he already had his cell phone to his ear.

  “Hello?” he said. God, that tone. So eager, so excited. It just about killed her.

  “Hey, sexy. It’s me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She’d learned from experience that people heard what they wanted or expected to hear. So long as she kept her voice low, he’d never suspect that she wasn’t Kan. “Guess where I am?”

  He paused, for so long that she started to wonder if he saw through her ruse, after all. “Tucked in your bed?” he finally responded.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “No, silly. I’m here. Outside your window.” She wanted to tell him exactly what she was—and wasn’t—wearing. If it were the other night when they were texting, she would’ve. But she had to tread carefully. He still thought she was Kan, and Kan would never be so forward. “I couldn’t wait until morning to see you.”

  “Seriously? You’re here?” His voice was surprised, but more than that, she thought he sounded happy. Happy to see her. She smiled so widely she thought her skin might bust.

  “How do you know which one is my room?” he asked.

  Her smile faltered. Oops. Was he suspicious? She hadn’t realized Kan had never been to hi
s house. He crossed to the window and looked out.

  “It’s the one you’re standing in front of,” she said. “Wearing boxers with blue hearts.”

  His hand lowered to the elastic waistband, and she shivered. “You like?” he asked.

  “Very much. Get down here.”

  “Give me two seconds.”

  They hung up, and much to her dismay, she saw him pulling on a pair of jeans and his signature black T-shirt. Oh, well. She’d just have to take them off again.

  She lowered herself until she was hanging from the branch and then dropped to the ground. Zips of anticipation shot through her stomach, even as her mind was trying to ruin it for her. Ethan was flirting with her . . . but he thought she was someone else.

  No. She couldn’t think that way. He was responding to her voice, to her words. She had to believe that he knew, on some level, that he was talking to Shelly. Sure, when he got downstairs and realized it was her, he might be surprised. But she would just have to convince him. Convince him she was the girl he truly loved. Convince him he was only attracted to Kan because of her surface.

  The surface was nothing. With a little effort, anyone could look like that. Just look at Shelly. She’d been able to imitate Kan with no problem at all.

  Ethan loved her. They’d spent that one glorious night texting. She knew what her words did to his body. And she really knew what his words did to her body. It was time for them to be together for real.

  A few minutes later, the front door opened soundlessly, and a shadowy figure stepped out. She wrapped the knee-length cardigan tighter around herself. It was a rainbow-colored, nubby knit number that was both a statement and a beautiful piece of art. A Kan original. She wasn’t sure if Ethan had ever seen it, but it screamed Kan with every loop, with every color.

  Ethan started walking toward the tree, and Shelly turned around, so that he would see only the sweater and her hair as he approached. She had to time this perfectly.

  The pulse thrummed in her throat. Don’t rush this. You only have one shot. One kiss to prove that you’re the girl for him.

  His feet crunched through the grass, and she felt the heat emanating from his body as he stepped up behind her. Just a few more seconds. Wait until he gets close, really close, too close to get a clear view. Three seconds, two, one . . .

  She whirled around, aiming to capture his lips with hers.

  She didn’t. Her lips met with air. Ethan had stepped to one side, and his hand shot out to grip her wrist.

  “What are you doing here?” he said darkly. “Where’s Kan?”

  She took a step back, wrenching her wrist from his grasp. He wasn’t supposed to know who she was this quickly. He was supposed to have gotten lost in her lips, in their kiss, so that when he realized who she actually was, it would be too late. He would already be enamored with her.

  “How did you know it wasn’t Kan?” she asked, stalling.

  “How did I know?” His eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “How could I not know? She’s my girlfriend, Shelly. I knew the second you started talking that it wasn’t her. You’re nothing like her.”

  The words were a slap across her face. Fine. She was different from Kan. He didn’t have to make it sound like such a bad thing.

  “You don’t always know,” she said, wanting to prove him wrong. Wanting to make him see her under all these layers of deceit. Her true self, the self no one had ever seen, not even her own mother.

  Shelly would’ve revealed her real self to her mother. In fact, she had been dying to. Her mother just hadn’t been interested.

  “You didn’t know it was me texting you the other night,” she continued, trying to wrench the conversation back on track.

  He went perfectly still. His features gleamed like marble under the moonlight. “That was a mistake.”

  “A mistake, Ethan? Are you sure?” She took a step forward, and he backed up, as though they were dancing. He was scared of her. Good. She continued advancing, and he continued retreating until his back was pressed against the tree.

  He was cornered now. And right where she wanted him—where she’d always wanted him. “You had a good time, Ethan. That’s what you told me. You said it was the hottest experience of your life. That doesn’t sound like a mistake to me.” She looped her hands around his neck, tugging him close. She could feel the vibrations in his chest. “You said you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me for real, that the anticipation was driving you wild.” She leaned forward and rubbed her lips against his. “Well, I’m here now. You can have me any way you want.”

  “I don’t want you. Did you ever think of that?” He tried to pull away, but the tree was behind him, and there was nowhere to go.

  Anger bubbled in her stomach. He didn’t get to talk to her like that. “You liked texting me. You got off on my words. Me.”

  “It wasn’t your words. I thought it was Kan texting me! The whole time, I was picturing her. Not you. There was nothing special about your words. If that’s all I wanted, I could call any sex hotline. The only reason those words had meaning was because I thought they came from her.”

  She wasn’t going to let him do this to her. That night was one of the best of her life. She’d known, right then and there, that she was going to cherish the memory forever. She wouldn’t let him cheapen it just because he felt guilty.

  She sank to the ground, groping behind her. Her dreams involving Ethan were crashing around her, fast. But she wasn’t going to let him tear down her lifelong dream, too.

  The rage built inside her until it exploded, turning her entire world red. She swayed, and for a moment, she thought she might faint.

  “You really have no idea.” He just kept talking. Talking, talking, talking. He didn’t know when to shut up.

  But his words steadied her. They gave her something on which to focus. Something toward which to direct her anger. Her hands closed around the paperweight. She hadn’t had a clear idea why she was bringing it. But now, she knew. On some level, she must have known all along.

  “I’m not attracted to you,” he said. “No matter what the circumstances are, I’d never be interested in you. . . .”

  For the second time that weekend, she would take back control. In the most definitive way possible.

  She swung the paperweight as hard as she could against his head.

  Chapter 40

  Where the hell is Ethan? I hang up the pay phone in frustration.

  Sighing, I amble past the visitors’ lounge, glad I don’t have to go back inside. Sometime after dawn, the nurse said I could hang out in Khun Yai’s room and wait for her to wake.

  My mind spins over the same question, again and again. I’m certain Shelly is a thief, but is she also an attempted murderer? I just can’t decide on an answer.

  It would be nice to discuss my questions with someone. Someone like Ethan. But I couldn’t call him until this morning. Khun Yai’s lessons are ingrained in me too deeply. What kind of girl calls a boy at two a.m.? Not a good Thai girl, that’s for sure. What would those faceless, nameless people say?

  But now, it’s eight a.m., and he’s not picking up. Is it too early? Nah. If telemarketers can call at this hour, then so can I. Maybe he’s still sleeping.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. There’s no reason to worry. Not yet. It’s early, and he’s probably just exhausted. He had a grueling dance competition yesterday, as well as two long drives. That would knock anyone out.

  I walk into Khun Yai’s room and sit in the chair next to her bed. She looks much better now. She’s breathing on her own, without the help of oxygen tubes, and her skin has returned to its normal color. She’s not sleeping peacefully, though. She alternates between gulping the air and not breathing for long periods, thrashing around as though she’s having a nightmare.

  I pick up her hand. It feels so small, so wrinkled in mine. Thinking back to our last argument, I bite my lip. That was definitely not one of the last conversations I wanted to have with her. />
  “I’m sorry, Khun Yai,” I say.

  Her head moves. Does she hear me? Is she waking up?

  “What could I have done?” she mumbles in Thai. “Everything we’ve worked for, ruined. I couldn’t let him destroy his life over a white girl.”

  Her hand jerks, and I drop it in surprise. She’s not talking to me, clearly, but to someone in her dreams. “I had to pay her. I had no choice. I did what had to be done. If I die now, I will just have to atone for this sin in my next life.”

  Her arms shoot into the air, as though she’s waving away a stray dog. “Stay away from me, farang. You’re not my granddaughter. Family is more than blood. You weren’t raised with us, in our culture. I don’t care who your father was. You proved you weren’t my granddaughter the moment you blackmailed me with those envelopes. No respect whatsoever.”

  I freeze. I’m her granddaughter, but she’s not addressing me. I’m not a farang, for one thing. She may despair over my attitude, but I was definitely raised in the Thai culture. The only white girl she’s been around lately is . . . Shelly.

  Holy crap. The air turns solid. Is this the big secret my mom and Khun Yai have been keeping from me? Is that why the atmosphere between Shelly and Khun Yai is so tense?

  I swallow hard. “Khun Yai, you’re having a nightmare.” I gently squeeze her hand. “You need to wake up. You’re talking in your sleep.”

  Her eyes flutter open, and her gaze darts around the room, to the sterile white walls and empty surfaces, before settling on me. She blinks a few times, and then her eyes clear. “Kanchana, is that you?”

  Thank goodness. She recognizes me. “Yes, Khun Yai. You’ve had a bad fall. We’re in the hospital.”

  “I didn’t . . .” she starts to say, and then shuts her mouth.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” Lines crease her forehead. “I can’t seem to remember what happened. One moment, I was watching Shelly wash her hands in the sink. And the next . . .” She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”