Anya has been taking the homeopathic medicine that Marissa gave her. Marissa is right about the Arnica and the Traumeel: her neck is healing quite fast. Anya has also begun her frequent sessions at the massage therapist. She must admit, she enjoys every session and always looks forward to the next one. The feel of Mrs. Schuler's hands caressing her sore neck and back makes her forget about the pain for the time being. She also finds Mrs. Schuler to be a kind and bubbly person. She always greets Anya with a smile and she never seems to run out of things to say. In the short time Anya has known Mrs. Schuler, she has grown quite fond of her.
When Anya is not at Mrs. Schuler's clinic, she is with Maria, Marissa and Alex.
The day after she left the hospital, they all drove to Vernon and spent the afternoon snowmobiling at Silver Star Mountain. Later that night, they went to a night club and partied it up until three in the morning. No one kicked Anya and Maria out because Alex and Marissa made sure they had fake IDs.
Last weekend, Marissa invited a few of her friends over to the apartment. They drank a lot and were quite obnoxious at times, but despite all that, Anya enjoyed their company. She wished, though, that Alex had been with them. She would have liked to have met his friends, but he had to some important business to attend to.
Since that party, she has seen less of him. He has been quite busy with business according to Marissa. Alex’s business mystifies Anya. Whenever she does see him, Anya asks him about it, but Alex always redirects the conversation to another topic. So, Anya swallows her curiosity. Besides, Alex has been very gracious and accommodating. Why rock the boat?
Anya finally belongs somewhere in this world: she has a core group of friends and she loves living with them because they always have fun when they are together. More importantly, they have made her forget about the past. But the moment Anya sets foot on her front yard, those emotions disappear, leaving her as empty and distressed as she was two weeks earlier. Memories of that Sunday morning's events fill her mind. She wonders how Sophia is doing? Have her bruises healed? How will she act when she sees Anya? Is she even still living here? These questions make Anya's stomach churn with anxiety, yet she forces herself to walk down the narrow, broken, concrete walkway. She knocks on the door lightly. Her body is so tense that the back of her neck begins to hurt.
No one opens the door, so after a few seconds of standing in the freezing cold, she attempts to open it. Much to her surprise, it is unlocked. The living room is even messier than it was when she left. Empty beer bottles, bags of chips, plastic dinner trays, candy bar wrappers and dirty clothes lay strewn all over the floor and on the couch. A foul smell emanates from the waste and hangs in the air around her. She wrinkles her face. God, how can Dad and Sophia stand to live in this filth?
"Anya?"
For the first time in weeks, she is face to face with her father. She can’t remember seeing him looking so ill. His face is white, his eyes sunken, and his body so frail it looks limp beneath the jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing. His brown hair looks more like slick strands of straw.
"What happened to you, Anya?"
She locks her eyes on his face. I’d like to know the same thing about you. "Uh…nothing."
Inside those hollow eyes shines a glimmer of worry. "Something obviously happened to you. Why is your neck in a brace?"
The expression on Anya's face hardens. "Didn't Sophia tell you?" The rotten little brat!
"Tell me what?" he says, looking completely dumbfounded.
Anya clenches her fists. Damn you, Sophia! "That one of my classmates hurt me," she says once her anger subsides a little.
For a brief moment, her father looks like he’s about to cry. Anya can almost see the tears in his eyes through her own tears.
"Sophia didn't come back home after school. She's living with her best friend. She told me in a message on the answering machine late one evening."
Anya can feel a piece of her heart break. Best friend? I never knew Sophia had a best friend. I never knew she had any friends. How could she love an outsider and not her own sister? I don't get it.
"Anya, your teachers have been phoning me every day for the last two weeks. They want to know why you've been absent."
Anya narrows her eyes. "I'm not going back to school."
Her father appears to be quite taken aback by her forceful response. "Yes you are, Anya."
"Oh, no I'm not. I can't handle the people there anymore."
"Bullshit, Anya. You're not quitting school three months before graduation," he says as loud as his feeble voice will let him.
Anya shoots him a fierce look. She sets her hands on her hips. "And, why do you all of a sudden care about what goes on in my life?"
"Because you’re the only person in this family who wants to make something of yourself."
"What family?" she says, her voice escalating. "Adrik is a drug dealer. Sophia just found herself a family. And me; I'm doing the same thing. I have to pack my things now. My new sister is waiting for me in her car and I don't want to keep her waiting."
She is aware that he follows her into her room because as soon as she starts throwing her new clothes onto the bed, he asks, "How did you afford to buy these swanky clothes when you work at a low-end job on the weekends?"
A sharp pain shoots up the back of Anya's neck when she jerks it in his direction. She groans loudly and angrily. "I don't work anymore. Sophia intentionally got me fired from my job, remember?" She says once the pain subsides.
"Then, did you steal them?"
Anya spins on her heels and shoots him a hostile look. "No. A friend bought them for me." She turns her back to him, walks over to the closet, grabs the old, pink suitcase, then throws her clothes into it without first folding them.
"Who was that girl who stayed here with you?"
"That's none of your business."
"Yes it is. I'm your father!"
She slams the lid of the suitcase down over her disorganized clothes. "Then, where were you the last ten years of my life?" She fastens the suitcase, then brushes past him, her grip firm around the handle.
"Don't do this, Anya."
Anya stops in her tracks. She turns around slowly until her eyes meet with his once again. Tears gather in the corner of his pale, grey eyes.
"I'm sorry, Anya. I'm so sorry."
She averts her gaze to the floor. Tears spring to her own eyes. She is torn between empathy and hate. It has been a long time since her father last spoke such words to her. Maybe Sophia's decision to leave has made him guilty with the realization of all the wrongs he committed and now he is desperate to make up to her for all the time that's been lost. Yet, a small voice inside her heads says ‘no’. He's lying to you. He doesn't mean any of it. You can't trust him. Anya somehow believes the voice. He’s not trustworthy. And does she really want to go back to the way things were? Live in a small, run-down house that always smells of stale beer, rotten food and dirty clothes; with a parent who can't provide for her because he's too busy playing the victim of some hardship he imagined? She has started her life on a clean slate and, frankly, she's satisfied with her new lifestyle.
"Don't do this, Anya. Please. You're all that I have left," he says with a tremble in his voice.
She narrows her eyes. "Well Dad, you should have thought about that years ago before you decided to fuck up our lives." She spins on her heels and this time, she walks out of the house.
Once Anya steps outside, she inhales a huge gulp of air. The crisp air stings her lungs, but it feels good. She exhales it in one long sigh before she walks over to Marissa’s parked car. Not once does she turn around to catch a glimpse of the little, white house.
In the car, Marissa gives Anya a worried look. "My God, Anya, your face is beat red. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I just had a few words with my dad.”
"And, what did he say?"
"Oh, nothing much."
"Well, Anya, you don't have to live in that shit hole anymore. Those days are over
," Marissa says, smiling at her reassuringly.
"Yeah. He also won't ever see me again, and neither will my sister."
Slight creases form on Marissa's forehead. "You mean Sophia?"
"Yes. Did Maria tell you about her?"
"Yes, she told me everything."
Anya balls her hands into fists. "I'm glad they're out of my life. I hate them. I hope to God I never see them again."
"Have you ever been to a rave?"
"No," she says, feeling rather let down by Marissa's evasive attitude.
"Alex is planning on meeting some friends at the old roller dome tomorrow tonight. That's where the rave is held; every Friday night. It's a lot of fun. You're free to be yourself and no one cares how stupid you act because, at the rave, we're all one big, happy family."
Anya's eyes widen. "So, I'll finally meet Alex's friends?"
"Yes," Marissa says, nodding her head.
All of her anger turns into excitement. "Sure, I'll go. I can't wait to meet Alex's friends."
"Great."
"Is Maria going to come as well?"
"Of course. We already talked about it before she went off to work."
Anya remembers the brace around her neck. Her eyes droop. "I can't go like this, and my neck is still sore."
"Why not? You wore it everywhere in Vernon and no one judged you for it."
"True," Anya says with a sigh.
"And you had a good time, so why wouldn't you have fun tonight?"
"I'll have fun tonight. Honestly, I will."
"I can rub some Traumeel into your neck before we leave."
"Sure. I just wish I didn't have to wear this brace anymore. I'm beginning to feel like a freak."
Marissa chuckles. "You're not a freak, Anya. It'll come off soon enough. Next week, so quit worrying."
"I can't wait until next week comes."
"Don't think about next week. Just live for the moment. We're gonna have fun tonight."
Anya smiles. "Yes we are."
CHAPTER 29
"You look drop dead gorgeous in that dress!"
Anya turns around to look at herself in the mirror. The red, halter dress that Marissa bought for her earlier today accentuates her slim figure. The hemline falls about three inches above her knee and the neckline plunges well over halfway down her chest, exposing more than half of her breasts. It is more than what she is comfortable showing, yet most of her new clothes are revealing. Besides most of the time, Maria and Marissa wear clothes that show off their figures. And there is no way Anya is going to wear her old, baggy t-shirts, khakis pants and sweaters. Those days are over. Forever.
Anya smiles at her reflection. Despite the cumbersome neck brace, she loves the way the dress makes her look. "I love it. Thank you, Marissa. It was so nice of you to buy me this dress."
"No problem. Now, all you need is some make-up and…we really have to do something with your hair."
Anya's left hand shoots up to the back of her head. She unties the elastic, letting her hair tumble down her back. It has been two hours since she had a bath, but her hair is still quite wet. The feel of it against her bare, upper back sends cold chills throughout her body.
"I can blow dry it for you, but I'll have to comb it first," Marissa says.
Anya can feel her fingers caressing through her hair. Surprisingly, she feels no pain. "Sure. But, I’ll need to put it up after, or braid it."
"Braids are so old fashioned," Marissa says, wrinkling her nose. "Anya, you can leave your hair down for one night. It's not that heavy. I mean, it's quite thick, but it's just hair. You lived with it all your life, so why would it hurt your neck now?"
Tears prick Anya’s eyes. "My neck was injured, remember?" Her response is followed by a long pause. She can hear the bristles of her brush weaving their way through her damp hair. She wonders where Maria and Alex are at. The hands on her wrist watch read nine 'o' clock. Maria's shift ended at eight-thirty, so she should have returned by now, and so should have Alex.
"I'm sorry, Anya," Marissa says, ending the awkward silence. "I didn't mean any of that."
"It's okay, Marissa."
"No really. I shouldn't have said what I said."
"Don't worry about it, Marissa. I'm not mad at you."
The sound of someone bursting into the apartment startles the two young women.
Marissa turns. "Who the..."
"Guess what?" Maria says, appearing in the doorway.
Anya turns her body around so that she can face her. Maria's face is flushed, her hair disheveled, and she is almost out of breath. Yet her mouth gapes open when she sees Anya. "Oh my God. Anya, you look hot. That dress is so becoming of you," she says once she catches her breath. "You should wear my silver necklace."
Anya casts her a thin smile. "Thanks, Maria, but it's a rave, not a cocktail party. I mean, do people actually dress like this to raves?"
"Some do. Some don't. It all depends on how you feel and what you wanna get out of it. No one cares what you look like," Marissa says.
"Well, you won't catch me in sweatpants or jeans. I have to keep myself fresh," Maria says, unzipping her ski jacket.
Anya and Marissa chuckle at her remark.
"Anyway, I have to get changed, and I also need to fix my hair," she says, slipping out of the coat.
Anya's eyes fall on her black dress. "You wore that to work?"
"Yes. It's one of my work outfits."
"I wear low-cut shirts and dresses at work all the time," Marissa says, sounding as if wearing suggestive clothing on a job site has become the norm.
"I was just curious, that's all," Anya says with a small shrug of her shoulders. Since when do employers evade dress codes? Sally forbade everyone to wear revealing clothes. That's why she forced us all to wear beige pants and blue polo shirts. "Anyway, what do you really want to tell us?" she says, changing the subject.
"Jeremy said that he would pay for my Serving it Right course and for my Food Safe course as well. He also really likes my work ethic, so he's gonna give me full-time hours as soon as school ends. I didn't tell him that I dropped out, of course. I don't want him to think that I'm an idiot."
Anya cannot suppress her smile. No, Maria. He likes your looks and the way you dress. That's why he's doing these things for you. So, maybe if I dress the same way in front of him, he'll hire me as well. "Congratulations."
"Yes. Congratulations, Maria. That's so cool. I mean, wouldn't it be something if you went out with your boss?" Marissa says.
Anya can see a faint red creep onto Maria's face, but it is not the red of embarrassment.
"Maybe. I don't know. He's ten years older than me."
"Oh, who cares about age. If he has a good body and is so into you, then go out with him. Maria, it's totally obvious that you like him. And it's clearly obvious that he likes you. Based on what you've been telling us."
Maria's face widens into a lustful grin. "Well, hopefully soon, we'll be doing more than just going out."
"Well, if you keep dressing the way you do and smiling at him the way you say you do, then you'll have him in no time," Marissa says.
Maria's eyes sparkle. "Yeah. Well, with a little time and effort. Anyway, Anya, I've been meaning to ask you this all day. How did it go with your dad and your sister?"
Anya's eyes droop. "My sister found a new home. And my dad…he didn't want me to go. But I had to. He never gave a crap about me. Life with him was hell on earth, so why he would all of a sudden expect me to stay with him, I don't know."
"Well, good for you, Anya. You made the right decision," Maria says.
Anya can see the passion in her eyes. It is comforting to know that Maria cares so much for her.
"He abandoned you long ago, so he deserves to taste his own medicine," Marissa says.
"And, you have us now," Maria says, reaching for her hand.
"I'm glad I have you too," Anya says, her eyes filling up with tears.
"Well, I'm back. Hope you girls are ready to
go," Alex says, appearing unexpectedly beside Maria in the doorway. He wears an angry expression on his face.
"I didn't hear you come in," Maria says, turning to face him. She appears somewhat unaffected by his ominous presence.
"What took you so long?" Marissa says.
"Had to do some unfinished business."
Anya's heart beat starts to quicken. "Unfinished business?"
His dark eyes dance with malice. "Yeah. Some puke lied to me. Anyway, I dealt with him. He'll never screw with me again. So, are you girls ready or what?"
"Getting there," Marissa says.
"I still need to get ready," Maria says.
Alex throws his arms up into the air. "Oh, come on! I thought you all would have been ready by now."
By now, Anya's heart is racing and her legs feel like rubber.
"Baby, we didn't know you would be so late," Marissa says, in effort to calm him.
Alex glares at her. "You should know my business by now, Marissa. Maria, get ready. I want to get going."
Anya turns back around so that she faces the mirror. She keeps her eyes fixed on the counter below. This is the first time she has seen him angry. And what is this 'unfinished business' all about? Why would this man lie to Alex, and what information is his lie based on? Alex has told her that he would never kill another person, but his words imply that he had inflicted harm on the person who supposedly lied to him. He may not have killed his victim, but what if he tortured him? The very thought nauseates her. She begins to believe that Alex has a side to him that neither she nor Maria yet know about; one that is cold, calculating and sinister. He is hiding the truth from them.
CHAPTER 30
The old roller dome is located in central Peach Valley, just three blocks east from the Preschnikov household. It is an area infested with drugs and prostitution. This used to be the better part of town several years ago, so Anya learnt. But the city spread out, giving rise to suburbs that have been built along the shorelines of Okanagan Lake. People from around the world are attracted to this little corner of Canada because of the surrounding, dessert-like mountains, warm, dry climate, booming economy and, of course, the lake. For this reason, the city experienced an exponential growth in population within the past decade, and it continues to grow at a fast pace. With the rush of newcomers, comes the desire to live next to the lake, or on acreage. This has resulted in a void, a void that needed to be filled by people. Central Peach Valley is that void. Unfortunately, the only people who choose to reside in this community are those who can't afford to live in suburbs and people who just don’t know what a good choice is.
To be Maria Page 16
