“Why did you do that?” he’d yelled. “D’you have any idea how much that stuff cost? I can take care of myself; I don’t need you to look after me.”
Midnight had never seen her dad so hot, his anger exploding behind his eyes and pinning her with such ferocity that she’d started to cry and had run to her room and had hid under her blankets, shaking, a hole in her heart so big she could have fallen into it.
“Can I come in?” her dad had said after knocking gently on her door a few minutes later. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, honey. I totally overreacted.”
She’d pulled the blankets over her head and remained silent. She’d heard the door open and then felt her dad sit on the edge of the bed.
“I know you meant well,” he’d said. “And I’m an ass for blowing up like that. I drink way too much, I know. I know. I’ll join AA. I will. I need to.” He’d sat quiet for a moment. “I’ll never yell at you again. That’s a promise.”
He had joined AA.
But his loneliness and emptiness had needed solace and he’d lapsed with the AA meetings, and a six-pack had started to come home with him with regularity, and even though he drank most nights, he had been true to his words and had never yelled nor gotten angry with her again.
Midnight hated to see him so damn broken.
But what was she supposed to do? All she could do was look out for him and love him. Because he really was a great guy and when she saw what her mother leaving had done to him, it made her hate the woman that she barely knew even more. On more than one occasion, Midnight had hoped that her mom was dead, that she had died a horrible death because what she had done to the man she had vowed to love forever, through good and bad, until death, was unforgivable.
The bell rang, class ended, and Midnight made her way to her locker where she grabbed her gym clothes and headed toward the change room. She hated gym. Not because she wasn’t any good—in fact, she was better than all the girls in her class. No, what she hated was seeing every other girl with boobs and curves while she remained boyishly shapeless, puberty seemingly bypassing her or playing a cruel joke on her.
So she put up a front, one that showed indifference, but she was still just a teenage girl with feelings, and as hard as she tried to stifle them, it still hurt to hear what the other girls said, murmurs behind her back, murmurs that she was weird, murmurs that her mom hadn’t loved her enough to stay.
Her armour wasn’t impervious.
Maybe Samantha was right about her haircut and maybe she should let her hair grow back. It’s just that she’d heard her dad compliment her too many times how like her mother she looked before she’d cut it.
Midnight changed as fast as she could and headed out to the soccer field where she did her best not to kill anyone when she pounded the ball—an outlet that helped her unleash the frustration bottled up inside of her.
* * *
When Midnight got back to her locker after gym, Samantha was waiting for her. No matter what might be happening between them, whether their friendship was really slowly burning itself out or not, the two friends always ate lunch together and Samantha always waited for Midnight at her locker. It was like Samantha cut class a couple minutes early to make sure she was there when Midnight showed up.
For a moment, when Midnight saw her friend standing there all beautiful and sexy and having it all, a surge of hot blood rushed through her veins and she wanted to scratch Samantha’s perfect skin off her face, dig deep painful and scarring grooves that would make her invisible to the world like Midnight was.
She loved Samantha and her heart felt like a tiny aching fist inside of her chest. How could she have these thoughts about her best friend? Midnight knew Samantha had never asked to be born so beautiful and lucky, just like she herself had never asked to be born so ugly and unlucky.
Okay, until a year ago Samantha hadn’t been that pretty. She’d worn glasses and had braces on her teeth, and lived in a tiny house down the street from Midnight, but Samantha’s luck had changed.
Midnight frowned. What was getting into her today? She felt out of sorts, angry and lost and feeling a bit sorry for herself.
So not Midnight Madison.
“Hey girl,” Samantha said. “Gym, huh?”
“My favourite,” she said and any ill thoughts she’d had disappeared.
“Next year we don’t have to take it, so look forward to that.”
“I am, believe me.” Midnight stuffed her sweaty gym clothes into her locker and grabbed her lunch bag. “I’m starving.”
“Why do you still bring a lunch bag? You can buy food here.”
“I’m not eating that crap. Full of refined sugars and who knows what. Not a chance.” Her body might not be the body of a goddess, but Midnight respected it. She was afraid of what might happen if she didn’t. It had once turned on her and she was doing her best not to let that happen again. “I like to know what I ingest.”
“Who says ingest? You’re so weird sometimes.”
“It’s really not such a difficult word to say. And it is what we do with food.”
“Whatever,” Samantha said. “Let’s just go ingest our lunch.”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
The two girls walked away, and all eyes followed Samantha—the boys wanted to be with her, and the girls wanted to be just like her—and all the mean-spirited whispers were aimed at her geeky freaky friend Midnight.
What if He’d spared me so stupid teenagers could torment me?
The thought slammed into her like a fist out of darkness, but it wasn’t the first time it had crossed her mind. Lately, her thoughts seemed twisted, morose, self-deprecating.
“Hey, Night-Night, you with me?” Samantha said.
Midnight pulled a fake smile out of the depth of her darkness and plastered it onto her face. Samantha had given her that nickname back in grade one, and she used it occasionally, usually to get Midnight’s attention. “Yeah, I’m with you.”
Samantha stopped her with a hand on her forearm. “You okay? You seem off today, more than usual. Your dad okay?”
Midnight nodded. “Yeah, we both are. I mean, he’s drinking again, but it’s not too bad. It’s not that, really. It’s . . . what happened yesterday.”
“The towers.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that people died for no reason?”
Samantha looked uncomfortable. “It does. It’s unbelievable. But what are we supposed to do? I mean, we’re just teenagers living in another country.”
“I know,” Midnight said. “It would just be nice to do something, you know, to make the world better.”
The two girls started walking again. “I’m not sure we can change the world. It’s so messed up.”
“Maybe not the whole world,” Midnight said as they reached the cafeteria doors and Samantha pulled on the left one. “But maybe we can do something here. We do have to fulfill our forty hours of community work and I haven’t put in a single hour yet. Have you?”
Samantha shook her head. “Please don’t go all nuclear on this like the time they found that girl’s body in the woods.”
Just last year, Jordan Lachance had disappeared and three weeks later her body had been discovered by a jogger over at the pit. Jordan had been a senior at their school and lived just three streets over from Midnight. She had volunteered for Jordan’s search, and the longer the search turned out empty, the more freaked out Midnight had become, to the point that her dad had had to insist she stop helping.
The week that followed the discovery of Jordan’s body, Midnight had been haunted by extremely violent nightmares where she woke up screaming so loud it left her throat sore and raw for days.
“I just want to do something,” she said, but her words where swallowed by the cacophony that filled the cafeteria, a noise that could only be generated by two hundred teenagers controlled by raging adolescent hormones.
Midnight followed Sama
ntha, who led her to their table on the other side of the room where some of Samantha’s friends waited. Midnight was sure they only tolerated her and on days that Samantha wasn’t at school, Midnight normally skipped lunch or took it outside where she’d find a quiet spot and eat alone with her notebook. She sometimes drew, sometimes wrote her thoughts. On the front of the notebook she had written Make Someone Happy.
Maybe she could make someone happy like her dad told her every morning when she left for school, like he truly believed that she had the power to do such a thing.
Maybe she did, if she’d try.
* * *
Samantha saw Kim and Julie sitting at their table and sort of forgot about Midnight. Those two were her audience; she could manipulate them as she pleased and Samantha loved the rush it gave her. Knowing that Kim and Julie idolized her was an incredible high and right now she needed that. Midnight, as much as she loved her, could exhaust Samantha. Right now, she just wanted light and fluffy.
Kim and Julie were light and fluffy.
Sure, she tired of them quickly. Intellectually, she and Midnight were a better match, which was why she was still friends with Midnight, but the bad girl in her, the one that wanted to have fun and not feel guilty about it, tended to gravitate towards her other friends. Besides, Kim’s older brother Derek, a senior now, was really hot and Samantha was ready to move on from the guys in her grade to an older boy.
“Does she have to sit here?” Julie said. “She’s like mosquito repellent.”
“That makes no sense,” Samantha said. “Besides, Midnight is cooler than you’ll ever be.”
“I think not,” Julie said. “But whatever.”
“SO-ooo, my parents are away this weekend,” Kim said, “and Derek is throwing a party.”
“I thought you and Derek were throwing a party,” Julie said, sounding a bit confused. “I thought—”
Kim gave her the duh face. “Sounds better if I say he’s having the party, that way he’s the one getting in trouble if my parents find out. I’ll just happen to stay home that night and have a few girlfriends over.”
“Brilliant,” Samantha said. “So, how many girlfriends are you having over?”
“Well, the two of you, of course—”
“And Midnight too,” Samantha said.
Kim and Julie looked like they’d rather run naked through the cafeteria right now than invite Midnight.
“Yeah, sure,” Kim said. “You can come too, Midnight. If you want.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Midnight said.
Samantha turned to her friend. “Why? It’ll be fun. You need to loosen up.”
“Not my style,” Midnight said and popped a baby carrot into her mouth. “I’m sure you’ll all have more fun without me there.”
Julie didn’t even try to hide her relief. “Yeah, probably—”
“Shut up,” Samantha said. “If I say Midnight is coming, then she’s coming.”
“I really don’t want to,” Midnight said. “It’s not my thing.”
“What is your thing?” Kim said.
Julie was about to add something but Samantha shut her down with a glare. “Don’t bother.”
“It’s okay, Sam. I know they don’t want me there and I don’t want to be there. I don’t need to be Carrie.”
Samantha saw the lost look in Julie’s eyes. God, she really was dumb. “You won’t be.”
“Because I won’t be there,” Midnight said. “Please Sam, just let it be.”
Samantha turned her back on Kim and Julie. She looked at Midnight, hating that her friend was purposely cutting herself out. It wasn’t right. They were fifteen and this was supposed to be the best time of their lives. Why couldn’t Midnight just go with it for once?
“Why?”
“Because I’m asking you,” Midnight said and popped another baby carrot into her mouth. “And I really don’t want to go. They don’t want me there either. So just let it be.”
Samantha held out her hand and Midnight dropped a few carrots into her palm. She ate them all. She was starving and should get something to eat before lunch was over.
“I just hate to see you not want to be part of us.”
“I’m not part of you, Sam. I’m just your friend. And I sometimes don’t even know why we’re friends.”
Samantha got up, grabbed Midnight’s hand, and pulled her along as she headed for the line-up. She’d grab one of those sawdust burgers and greasy fries.
“Don’t do that,” she said to Midnight.
“What? Say I don’t want to go to a stupid party?”
“Embarrass me in front of them,” Samantha said. “If they see you saying no to me, maybe they’ll think they can say no to me, and then all the lines will be blurred.”
“What are you talking about? What lines?”
“The line that separates me from them. The line that says I’m the alpha.”
Midnight looked at Samantha just like Julie had earlier. “You did not just spit that shit out of your mouth.”
Samantha stared back. “You don’t get it, do you? I used to be just like you. Don’t you remember when I wore those stupid thick glasses and my teeth were all crooked and my face was full of pimples? I was a real leper.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“No,” Samantha said, shifting into damage control mode. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You put them there yourself.”
“It’s not what I meant.”
“So what did you mean?”
“I just meant that I wasn’t always popular, and now that I am, I really like it. And I can help you.”
“Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe I’m just fine being who I really am.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Yes, you’re pretty. Yes, your dad’s got money. And yes, you’re now popular and I’m just the same old Midnight. We used to make fun of girls like that and now . . .”
“And now I’m one of them.”
“You’re trying to be.”
Samantha took a step back and the two friends stared at each other, cold glares that left little room for maneuvering. Kids tired of waiting for them to move up the line just went around them.
“I’m the only friend you have.”
“I never asked you to be.”
“So you don’t care about our friendship?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Samantha crossed her arms and poked her cheek with her tongue. “You know, when everyone makes fun of you, I stick up for you. I tell them they have no idea what it’s like to have your mom walk out on you when you’re barely three just because you got sick. I mean, I have no idea either. Most times I can’t stand my mom, she so annoys me. But at least she’s there. I know it must suck for you to take care of your dad instead of the other way around. I’m just trying to make you happy. You know, include you.”
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. We’ve been friends forever.”
“And maybe forever just arrived.”
Midnight turned to go but Samantha grabbed her arm.
“You don’t mean that.”
Midnight pulled her arm free. “Even long-term friendships can wither away. We’ve been growing apart since the end of grade six.”
“You’re throwing this away?”
“We’re not the same, you and me. Not anymore.” Midnight pointed at Kim and Julie. “Maybe those aren’t true friends, but that’s where you belong now.”
“Then go,” Samantha said. “Don’t let me hold you back from being miserable.”
Midnight left and Samantha watched her childhood friend walk away, leaving her feeling a little less important, a little less self-righteous, a little less whole.
She wouldn’t go after Midnight to beg, though. Maybe, hopefully, Midnight just needed some time to herself, to sort things out
. Maybe. Hopefully. When she couldn’t see Midnight any longer, Samantha turned and saw Kim and Julie watching her, and she knew that they’d seen it all, and she knew that the only thing she could do was go and join them.
Someone important had possibly walked out of her life, someone she knew could never be replaced, but she couldn’t let her new fake friends see her bleed. No, she couldn’t. That would have to wait until later, when she was home alone in her room.
Samantha got her lunch and returned to her table, the smile on her face showing every penny of the seven thousand dollars her orthodontist had charged her daddy for those perfect pearly whites.
* * *
Midnight let herself into the house and locked the front door. The drive home had been icy and quiet, uncomfortable really. Midnight hadn’t wanted the ride home, but Mrs. Carmichael hadn’t known what had happened earlier and Midnight hadn’t wanted to seem rude. Maybe tonight Samantha would tell her mom and starting tomorrow, Midnight would need to walk to school.
She would wait and see.
Midnight heard the television playing and poked her head into the living room to find her dad asleep on the couch. There were five empty bottles of beer on the coffee table. She should be angry with him, but what use would it be? She switched the television off and pulled a blanket from the linen closet to cover him.
She kissed his forehead and whispered, “Oh Daddy.”
She headed to her room to do her homework, but had trouble concentrating. She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. There was a dusty spider’s web going from her light to the corner that she should wipe, but she couldn’t be bothered. Instead, she lay there and worried about her dad, worried about Samantha, worried about the world. So much ugliness everywhere. How could she make a difference? Who was she really? The thought rolled around in her head like a pinball being bounced in all directions, the answers crushed before they formed. Life—her life—just seemed to be getting more complicated. She’d hoped, as she grew older, that it would finally start to make sense, but the opposite seemed to be happening.
It Happened to Us Page 19
