Mistrust

by Margaret McHeyzer

“Then I better keep going because I need to give you at least sixty dollars’ worth of compliments.”

  “You’ll be here all day.”

  “Can I get an advance and continue with them when we get back?” She flutters her eyelids at Mom. “After I get my skirt and shoes?” Sam brings her hands together as if in to prayer.

  “We’ll see. But for now, you can pick up where you left off.”

  I finish my breakfast and take my plate to the sink. Laughing to myself, I leave the kitchen and head to my room. Sam is still throwing around sentences like ‘best Mom on the planet,’ and Mom is telling her to make them good because at this stage, she’s only secured the sole of one shoe.

  Sophie’s sitting on my bed and finishing the call to her Mom. She hangs up and looks at me, her eyes wide with worry. Immediately I rush to her. “Are you okay?”

  “My Dad’s found out where Mom works. He somehow had a bunch of flowers delivered to her and now Mom’s scared he’ll come after us when he gets released from prison.”

  “How did he find out?” I ask, sitting beside her on my bed. She shrugs her shoulders. “When’s he due to be released?”

  “Not for a few more years. But there was a note on the flowers.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It said he wants me to go and see him in prison, and if I do that, he’ll never bother us again.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “Mom said no way, but I don’t know.” Her hands relax against her thighs while her shoulders drop. “I want to know why he treated us like he did, and this may be my only chance to get a real answer.”

  “He’s been in for three years?” I try and recall what she’s told me in the past.

  “Just over. Maybe he wants to seek redemption.” She lifts her shoulders.

  “Redemption,” I sigh. It would be nice to hold onto that dream. But there’s no happily ever after in real life. If there was, I wouldn’t have been r . . . r . . . assaulted.

  “Yeah, I doubt it too.”

  I huff and shake my head. “Isn’t it horrible how we’re only sixteen years old and we view the world as toxic already?”

  “We look at it realistically. I know if anyone found out about my Dad, they’d automatically assume I’m like him and my Mom’s a no-hope loser too. Mom works two cleaning jobs so I don’t go without. I mean we don’t have the best clothes or anything, but we get by. So, can you, you know, not tell anyone about my Dad?”

  I cross my heart. “I swear I’ll never say a thing to anyone. It’s not my story to tell. But what if Mom asks me? She was worried to think she may have made you upset at breakfast.”

  “You can tell your parents, but not Sam. It’s not like I don’t trust her, but it’s better if fewer people know. She may accidently tell Taylor, then if they break up he may tell someone, and so it starts.”

  “I promise you, I’ll only tell Mom if she asks. Your secret is safe with me.”

  She leans in and hugs me. “Thank you, Dakota. It’s nice to know I actually have someone I can talk with.”

  “Hey, what did your Mom say about coming to the mall?”

  “She said it was okay. She’s going to come over to drop off some money for me, but she only has thirty dollars spare this week. I know I can’t really do much with that, but at least I can come along.”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. I like hanging out with you.”

  “Hey, there’s something else.” She winces, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable about something.

  “What’s wrong?” Worried I watch her face contort with discomfort.

  “I don’t want your mom to see where I live. She may think badly about me. Is it okay if I tell your mom my mom will come and pick me up after we’re done at the mall?”

  My heart snaps with sadness. I lean in and hug her tightly. How horrible, to feel as if people will judge you based on where you live instead of the person you are. “My Mom won’t judge you.”

  “We live in an apartment over a store. It’s nothing as beautiful as this. The man who owns it gives us real cheap rent if Mom cleans the store below it. She has to mop and clean the toilets, and the windows three times a week. When she’s really busy, I help her. I told Mom I wanted to get a job through summer to help with everything, and she started crying saying there’s no way she wants me cleaning toilets like her. She told me I’m better than she ever was. She hates it when I help with the store downstairs, but sometimes, Mom gets home so exhausted she can barely keep her eyes open.”

  “Sophie, never be ashamed of where you live or where you’ve come from. Your mom sounds like an amazing, beautiful person, just like you.”

  Sophie smiles but the happiness doesn’t reach her stormy eyes. I hate to think what she’s seen, where she’s been and what she’s had to do in order to live. Both Sophie and her mom sound like people who are the backbone of this world. Getting through each day, and trying to make their world better.

  “Thanks.” She nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders. “But I still don’t want your Mom to see where I live.”

  A huge lump forms in my throat, and I want to shout at her how Mom won’t judge her, she’ll only have respect for her and her Mom for trying to better their lives. “Okay, but one day I’m hoping you’ll trust my Mom.”

  “One day. Anyway, we’d better get changed, and then go help clean up.”

  We stand and Sophie goes to her bag, grabbing her clothes before going to the bathroom to get changed.

  “Make sure you call me when you’re done,” Mom calls as we all get out of the car.

  “Bye, Mom,” both Sam and I say in chorus.

  “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Bennett. And thank you so much for driving us to the mall,” Sophie says to Mom.

  “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

  Mom pulls out of the parking lot and drives off down the street. The three of us head into the mall and Sam decides she wants to go to Forever 21 to try on a skirt she’s been eyeballing.

  Sam tries on the skirt she’s seen, and as it turns out, it looks horrible on her. “What do you think?” She comes out of the fitting room and twirls in front of Sophie and me.

  I look at Sophie sideways and catch the horrified look on her face. “Um,” Sophie stumbles, not really wanting to tell Sam what she honestly thinks. “Do you like it?”

  “It looks terrible,” I finally say. She’s my sister, so there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her leave the house with that skirt on. It’s too short, and the pattern on the material makes her look as if her hips are huge.

  “What?” Sam looks down at the skirt and runs her hand over the fabric, straightening it. “I think it looks nice.” She pouts.

  Shaking my head I crease my mouth into a thin line. “It’s not nice at all, Sam. It doesn’t sit on you well. It makes your hips look too big and beside that, I know you; you won’t wear it.”

  “Hmmm.” Sam slumps her shoulders and looks down. “I guess you’re kind of right. I think it’s a bit too short. Okay, I won’t buy it.” Sam ducks back into the changing room and comes out a few minutes later.

  The three of us head out to American Eagle and Sam starts looking through the racks while Sophie and I hang back looking at some t-shirts. “What do you think?” I ask holding up a plain gray t-shirt. Sophie scrunches her nose. “So that’s a no.” I chuckle.

  We spend about twenty minutes in here, and Sam ends up purchasing a more modest skirt, something much more flattering to her long, slim body type.

  “I’m hungry. Can we go get something to eat?” Sam asks when she comes out of the store.

  “Where do you put it? You’re so thin and all I see you do is eat.” Sophie playfully pushes Sam.

  “I’m a growing child. I need my energy.” Sam raises her arms and flexes her muscles. Or I should say she flexes her non-existent muscles.

  “Here comes slut one and slut two.”

  I turn to look at Sophie and I see in the background, Lindsey, Mariah and Jordan all walkin
g in our direction. “Great,” I mumble and roll my eyes. They’re walking in formation, like you see on those trashy movies where they portray high-school hierarchy. Lindsey’s front and center, with Jordan and Mariah flanking her. “Let’s go.” I keep going toward Starbucks where we’ve decided to have lunch.

  As we keep walking, Sophie goes tumbling forward and falls to her knees. “Hey,” I say as I turn to face Lindsey and her bitchy face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I stand up to her, and step right into her personal space. “You don’t put your hands on other people, Lindsey. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “She’s just trash.” She rolls her eyes and Jordan sniggers from behind her. Both of them put their hands on their hips trying to intimidate us. But I notice Mariah step back and hang her head in shame. “She opens her legs to anyone who wants her.” Lindsey arches an eyebrow and triumphantly smirks at her own hurtful words.

  “Wow, you just described yourself,” I say as I take another step closer to her. “Does Levi even feel the sides?” Mariah grins but keeps her head down and Lindsey shoots her an evil stare before turning back to me.

  Lindsey’s eyelashes keep fluttering as her small mind tries to think of something clever to say. Clearly, she has nothing.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I say to Sam and Sophie. Sophie’s hurt by the shit Lindsey spat about her, and Sam looks as if she’s ready to jump in and smack Lindsey.

  The three of us walk away, and Lindsey yells out, “Go on little sluts, go and have your little slutty meeting.”

  We stop walking and I turn to face Lindsey. “How does it feel, Lindsey?”

  “What?” She puts her hand on her hip while her jaw tightens. I look around to see we’ve got a small crowd gathering, mostly teenagers who have their phones out and are recording it. They’re probably hoping for a confrontation they can post on social media.

  “How does it feel to know you’re not his first choice? And probably not even his second?” I start walking backwards and flip her the bird. Mariah claps a hand to her mouth, but not before a rumbling laugh sneaks out.

  “Shut up, Mariah!” Lindsey screams at her.

  Jordan’s standing like a statue, mouth wide open, gawking. “Oh my God, she’s such a bitch, I can’t believe she said that to you.”

  We walk away, and we hear Lindsey screaming at Mariah and Jordan because they didn’t defend her.

  “Man, I was about to smack that bitch for what she said,” Sam excitedly says.

  “I wouldn’t let you, they’re not worth getting banned from the mall.”

  Sam smiles and so does Sophie. “Thanks, Dakota, I’m so embarrassed they pushed me and said what they said. What did I ever do to them?”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. It shows how ugly they are, not you.”

  “Did you see the look on Mariah’s face? That was priceless,” Sam says, still bouncing high from adrenaline.

  “I gotta say, I’m really surprised by her.”

  “How so?” Sophie asks.

  “I didn’t think she’d stand around and let them act like that. Jordan, well after what we learned last night, nothing really surprises me, but Mariah . . .” I shrug my shoulders. “She hung her head in shame when Lindsey was being bitchy and laughed when I told her she’s nothing more than sloppy thirds.”

  “Still, Mariah’s mom wouldn’t be happy with her,” Sam says. “She’s such a nice lady and I know she’d be upset with Mariah if anyone ever told her what happened.” Her eyes light up and she smiles in a devious kind of way.

  “No,” I say looking at Sam and shaking my head. “You’re not going to do anything, Sam.”

  We get to Starbucks and Sam goes first to get something to eat while Sophie and I grab a table. “You don’t think she’ll say anything to Mariah’s mom?” Sophie shifts her eyes to look at Sam.

  “She won’t. She was just hyped up, and her brain is probably going a million miles an hour.”

  I get tapped on the shoulder and look up to see a woman standing beside me. I catch a glimpse of her teenage daughter sheltered behind her. “Are you the young lady who told that other girl she’s some guy’s third choice?” she looks at me with a scowl on her face, and I’m beginning to think what I said may have repercussions.

  I sneak a look at Sam who’s still in the line then turn my eyes back at the lady who’s beside me. “Yes, ma’am I am.” I wait for the well-deserved lecture. I should’ve just ignored what Lindsey did, but putting her hands on someone is not only wrong, it’s immoral too. Not cool, Lindsey, not cool.

  “I’m really proud of you for standing up for your friend. I didn’t see it all, but my daughter Josephine, did, and she told me exactly what happened. I only saw the tail end of it, and I was about to intervene but my daughter stopped me. If I was your mom, I’d be extremely proud of you.” Josephine steps to the side and hugs her mom. “She gets picked on all the time, and if there were more girls like you around, I’d know she’d be safe at school.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I look at Josephine, and the first thing I notice is how much depth her incredible eyes hold. She’s young, maybe Sam’s age, but she’s so beautiful, yet really sad. She also has Downs’ Syndrome and it makes my heart burst with compassion. “You’re very beautiful, Josephine.”

  She smiles at me and shyly ducks behind her mom again. “She’s very timid.” Her mom tries to get her to move from behind her, but she doesn’t want to. “I’ll leave you girls to have your lunch. But like I say to Josephine, many people have ugly hearts, and sometimes we come across people who have golden hearts.” She smiles and leaves.

  “Who was that?” Sam asks as she plonks down and takes a drink.

  “A lady who thanked us for what happened back there with Lindsey.”

  Sam frowns. “She thanked you? She didn’t rip it into you?”

  “Her daughter who has Downs’ Syndrome told her what happened. She wants people to stand up for their friends.”

  “Cool.” Sam starts her lunch.

  “My treat, Sophie. What do you want?”

  Sophie has been deep in thought, not really commenting or saying too much since the lady came over with her daughter. She looks as if she’s really bothered by something, but at the same time, who wouldn’t be, considering what Lindsey said about her. “You know, I’m not a slut,” she says to Sam, as if her approval is necessary.

  Sam flicks her hand at Sophie and rolls her eyes. “I know that.” She sips on her drink again before going back to her lunch.

  “I need to make sure you know I’m not a slut.” She looks at Sam, then me, waiting for us to say something.

  “You don’t need our validation, Sophie. We don’t believe a word Lindsey says. And even if you were a slut, which you’re not, it has nothing to do with us,” I say pointing to Sam then me. Sam’s too busy stuffing food into her mouth to do much more than nod her head in agreement.

  Sophie looks down at her hands, twisting in her lap beneath the table, and she nods her head. Her cheeks grow pink and I see her visibly gulp. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “C’mon. Let’s get lunch.”

  When we finish lunch, we decide to get some frozen yogurt. It’s something Sam and I love, and we introduce Sophie to all our favorite flavors.

  “I like this flavor,” Sophie says as she samples the salted caramel. “It’s really good.”

  “I want to buy a bath bomb for Mom,” I say as I eat my vanilla yogurt.

  “That’s sweet. I should get something for my mom too, she works so hard.”

  “There’s a Lush store downstairs, it sells all kinds of natural bath products. We’ll go after we’ve finished,” Sam says to Sophie. “I think Mom would like a bath bomb.”

  “We don’t have a bath, only a shower. Maybe I can find a nice body wash for Mom.”

  As we walk down stairs heading toward Lush, Sam gets a text a message. “Mom’s messaging.” She stops to see what Mom wants. I keep walking but I’ve got my head turned as
I watch Sam and I walk straight into someone else.

  “Sorry,” I mumble as I fall over the person I walked into. A masculine hand shoots out to help me up and I grab on to it. Slowly my gaze draws up jean clad legs and I meet the eyes of my math teacher, Mr. C. “Oh, Mr. Collins, I’m sorry.”

  He hoists me up, and immediately I take a step back while dusting off my butt. “It’s okay, Dakota. Are you hurt?”

  He steps closer to assess me, and I step back again. “I’m fine.”

  Mr. C smiles at me and continues to look me over. “How’s your vacation?” he asks. Sophie and Sam step up beside me. I turn to look at them and they both edge closer to me. “Hello, girls. I was just asking Dakota how her vacation has been. How have you all been?” he asks my sister and Sophie.

  “Good, thank you,” Sam replies in a cold tone. “We have to go. Mom will be meeting us soon.”

  “Take care, girls,” he says as we go to step away.

  “Bye,” I reply in a strained voice. When we’re a safe distance away from Mr. C, I discretely look over my shoulder, to see he’s actually following behind us. “What?” I whisper. “Don’t turn around, but Mr. C is following us.”

  “Huh?” Sophie huffs in annoyance and turns to look. “No he’s not.” She stops and turns around.

  Both Sam and I stop too, and when I turn, he’s disappeared. “I swear he was right behind us.”

  “Maybe he was heading into a store around here,” Sophie tries to justify what I saw.

  Unease flutters in my stomach and my pulse doubles as a dreadful niggling sensation settles within. “Something’s off with him,” I say, fear overtaking me.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam asks.

  My hands ball into fists and my jaw tightens in anticipation that something horrible is lurking nearby. “Let’s go.” The three of us quickly walk to the other end of the mall, and stop only when Sam sees a t-shirt she likes at Charlotte Russe. “What are you doing?”

  “What? He’s not here. And I like this, what do you think?” She holds the t-shirt up against her and though I’m extremely cautious of my surroundings, I still take a second to admire it.