Homecoming Queen

by Melody Carlson

  “We’re practicing on you,” said Eliza. “Now hold your feet still while I finish your toenail polish. And, seriously, DJ, when was the last time you had a pedicure?”

  “Probably the time you helped me with it before.”

  “Well, your toes should be ashamed of themselves.”

  DJ looked down to see her toes painted a coral pink with little white things — were they tampons? — stuck in between.

  Then she noticed that her face was feeling tingly. She reached her hand up to discover something smeared all over it. “What’s this?” She examined what looked like green mucus on her fingers.

  “It’s a new kelp facial that my mom sent me,” said Taylor. “I figured I’d try it out on you first. Just in case it makes your skin break out.”

  “It stings,” said DJ.

  “It’s supposed to. It’s exfoliating, and your skin should be smooth as silk when we’re done.”

  “If it works, I want to be next,” said Kriti as she rubbed a hand over her cheek.

  “We decided you needed some special attention,” said Eliza. “And since you were asleep — ”

  “And snoring,” added Taylor.

  “Yes, snoring rather loudly,” said Eliza. “We thought we’d just go ahead and get started.”

  “I couldn’t believe you slept through all that,” said Casey.

  “It’s that pain medication,” said DJ. She should be appreciative of this “special attention,” but it was also a little humiliating to think they’d been working her over while she was asleep — and snoring! “It really knocks me out.”

  “Well, I’ve got homework to do,” said Kriti as she paused in the doorway. “But let me know if that facial works.”

  “It needs to stay on for fifteen minutes,” said Taylor as she wiped something else beneath DJ’s eyes.

  “I’m hungry,” said DJ.

  “Me too,” said Casey. “Want me to go sneak something from the kitchen?”

  DJ nodded. “Just don’t get caught,” she called as Casey slipped out.

  “My work here is done,” said Eliza as she dropped some things in a bag. “Just let those toenails dry for at least ten minutes before you move around.” She blew an air kiss then made her exit. And, once again, it was just Taylor and DJ in the living room. Then the doorbell rang.

  “Someone’s at the door,” said Taylor.

  “Inez will get it,” said DJ.

  Taylor glanced toward the doorway. “I wonder who it is . . . maybe I’ll check.”

  “Well, whoever it is, don’t let them in here,” warned DJ. She looked down at her strange-looking toes with her sweatpants rolled up to her knees. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this.

  “Back in a sec,” called Taylor.

  DJ’s face was starting to sting even more now. Was it really supposed to feel like that? Or was this stuff burning her skin off? She was tempted to get up and go wash it off, but remembered about the toenails and then her broken leg. She was going nowhere.

  “DJ’s right in here,” said Taylor in a sweet voice.

  DJ sat up, turning in time to see Conner walking into the living room with a bouquet of pink roses.

  DJ wanted to hide or scream or maybe even throw something. She glanced at the coffee table, wishing there was a baseball bat handy so she could clobber Taylor with it.

  “Hey, good looking.” Conner wasn’t even trying to suppress a big grin as he set the roses on the coffee table. “Taylor told me that you were in the middle of a makeover. But I said I didn’t mind.”

  “I tried to talk him out of it,” said Taylor.

  “I’ll bet you did.” DJ glared at her.

  Taylor just shrugged. “Hey, he wanted to see you. Don’t have a fit.”

  DJ leaned back into the chair with an exasperated sigh. “I think this is what they call ‘insult to injury.’ ”

  Conner laughed and sat down across from her. “I can leave if you want.”

  DJ actually did want him to leave, but it had been sweet of him to bring flowers. And it seemed rude to send him away so quickly.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said meekly. Then as he made an attempt at small talk, politely asking her about her leg and her ribs, she realized how juvenile she was acting. For a girl who claimed she didn’t care about her looks, why should she freak over being seen like this? Still, she and Conner hadn’t been going together that long . . . and already he’d seen her at her worst — numerous times.

  Finally, Taylor shoed Conner away, saying that she needed to remove the facial goop and that he should come back later, after DJ had a chance to get herself more together. Conner stood then smiled at DJ, but he actually seemed relieved to go.

  “But I can’t come back later,” he told them. “It’s my mom’s birthday, and I promised my dad that I’d help him make dinner.”

  “What a sweet boy,” said Taylor in a condescending tone.

  “I think that’s really nice,” said DJ. “And thanks for coming by — and for the flowers. Sorry I was such a mess.”

  He chuckled. “That’s okay. Are you going to be in school tomorrow?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Well, I’ll call you.”

  As soon as he left, Taylor began to remove the kelp goop from DJ’s face. “I think we need to get you to the bathroom,” said Taylor in a voice that sounded a little concerned.

  “Is something wrong?” asked DJ as Taylor helped her up and gave her the crutches.

  “I got food!” said Casey, bursting into the room with a tray in her hands. She started to set it on the table, but then she got an odd look. “What’s wrong with DJ’s face?”

  “Nothing,” said Taylor quickly. “We just need to get her to the bathroom to get this stuff off.”

  With their help, DJ moved as fast as she could, and when they got to the tiny bathroom, she peered at herself in the mirror to see that her face was lobster-red and puffy. She touched a hand to her cheek and looked at Taylor in horror. “What do I do?”

  “Just rinse it with cool water,” said Taylor.

  So DJ began splashing cool water on her face. But each time she checked out her reflection, she could see it wasn’t helping.

  “I think it’s supposed to be like that for a while,” said Taylor. She handed DJ a towel. “I’ll go get the cream that’s supposed to follow the exfoliation. Maybe it will soothe this redness.”

  DJ just stared at her red face in horror. No way was she going to school tomorrow. For a moment she wondered if Taylor had done this on purpose, although Taylor had seemed nearly as rattled as DJ felt.

  “Here,” said Taylor as she reappeared with the cream. Now Casey and Eliza were standing behind her, all of them looking at DJ as if she were something from another planet, which she felt was a distinct possibility.

  “Seriously,” said DJ in a disgruntled tone. “With friends like you guys, who needs to get run over by a truck?”

  “You mean an SUV,” said Casey.

  “Whatever.”

  They laughed, and Taylor assured DJ that her skin was going to be okay. But Grandmother was not a bit pleased when DJ came to dinner looking like she’d been in the sun too long.

  “What on earth happened to you?” she demanded.

  Taylor explained. And then, to everyone’s surprise, she took the blame.

  “Oh, well,” said Grandmother, placated it seemed since it had been Taylor’s mistake, not DJ’s. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. It’s probably no different than a chemical peel. And since she’s already incapacitated, it was probably a case of good timing.” She smiled at DJ now. “I’m sure your complexion will look lovely in a day or two.”

  But when DJ got ready for bed, her face was still hot and irritated — which was a minor annoyance compared to the ache in her leg and the pain in her ribs every time she moved in the wrong way. She reached for her pain meds, but when she opened the little amber bottle, it was nearly empty. She poured the remaining pills into her palm — all six of
them. How could this be? So she read the label and did the math to discover that, even after taking the full recommended dosage, there should’ve been more than twenty pills remaining.

  Clearly, someone had helped herself to DJ’s meds, and DJ felt fairly certain she knew who that someone was. If she weren’t so sore and tired and if the stairs weren’t such an obstacle with her crutches, she would go up there and confront Taylor right now. As it was, she would have to wait until morning.

  9

  “I ALREADY TOLD YOU, DJ. I did not take your Vicodin.” Taylor’s voice sounded slightly bored now, as if she thought that would be more convincing. She had come to DJ’s temporary quarters to check on DJ’s face this morning, which was blessedly normal again, and then she’d acted all surprised when DJ had confronted her about the missing pain pills.

  “Then why am I almost out?” demanded DJ. She shook the nearly empty bottle beneath Taylor’s nose. “And you’re the only one who showed the slightest bit of interest in them. Besides, I wouldn’t put it past you, Taylor.”

  Taylor just smirked. “Well, you did seem to be enjoying the pills, DJ. Maybe you’ve been double-dosing.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Then someone else took them, DJ. Because, like I told you, I did not.” She turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Despite Taylor’s dramatic routine, DJ felt certain it had to be Taylor. She’d been in DJ’s little “recovery” room a lot. She’d been the only one to mention the pills, acting like they were some kind of special treat. It just added up. It had to be Taylor.

  DJ hobbled out on her crutches in time to see the girls leaving for school. Taylor left on her Vespa — probably ticked because DJ wasn’t able to drive her and, naturally, Eliza wasn’t offering. Plus, Eliza’s car was already full. Well, it served Taylor right. And DJ didn’t even care if it rained today, which looked like a possibility. Maybe another good soaking would help Taylor wake up.

  DJ was tempted to tell her grandmother about the missing Vicodin — and about Taylor’s other vices as well. What would Grandmother think if she knew that Taylor not only smoked and drank and engaged in casual sex, but stole prescription drugs as well? Still, DJ could just imagine Grandmother defending Taylor, reminding DJ of how “beautiful” Taylor was and what a future she might have in the fashion industry.

  Besides, as much as DJ hated to admit it, and as irrational as it seemed, DJ still cared about Taylor. And since she’d been praying for the girl, she probably cared even more. Oh, sure, she didn’t care for a lot of the stunts that Taylor pulled. And sometimes she almost wanted to kill Taylor. There was also something about this mixed-up girl that drew DJ in. And DJ had hopes that Taylor was changing. Okay, she was like a yo-yo, or a ping-pong ball, but she was changing. And yet, it was wrong for Taylor to steal DJ’s pain meds. DJ knew that for a fact. Not only was it wrong; it was dangerous. And before the day was over, DJ intended to prove that Taylor was guilty.

  “You seem to be getting around better,” said Grandmother as Inez helped DJ back to a standing position with her crutches. To get down the front porch steps, DJ had to sit down on her bottom and ease herself down one at a time. Not exactly graceful, but better than taking a tumble.

  “I guess,” huffed DJ as she slowly made her way to Grandmother’s Mercedes.

  “You okay now?” asked Inez as she helped balance DJ, easing her into the front seat of the car.

  DJ nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Maybe I should come with you,” said Inez.

  “No, thank you,” said Grandmother briskly. “We’ll be fine.”

  DJ’s vote would be to let Inez come with them, but it was too late now. Inez closed the door, made a little wave, and Grandmother began to back up. DJ wondered how it was that she’d been so unlucky in family.

  “Did you ever tell my dad about the accident?” asked DJ tentatively.

  “No. Did you want me to tell him?” Grandmother glanced at DJ as she slowed for the stoplight.

  DJ considered this. “No, not really.”

  “If you think he should know, you are certainly free to call him yourself, Desiree. But, as you know, I am not inclined to maintain a relationship with him.” Grandmother sighed loudly. “When I think of how he treated my daughter, your mother, well, I find that it’s unforgivable.”

  DJ nodded. The truth was that DJ found it unforgivable as well. Even as a Christian, she wasn’t sure how to think about her father. Mostly she didn’t. DJ decided not to think about him today either. Besides that, Grandmother was turning toward the hospital complex now.

  Fortunately, the physical rehab building had a handy driveway for Grandmother to pull up and let DJ out. With a flat surface to walk on and electronic doors, DJ made her way inside without too much trouble and only the normal amount of pain.

  She had just sat down to fill out the paperwork when Grandmother joined her, glancing around the medical facility as if it made her uncomfortable. Or maybe she was imagining that she was here for some kind of painful cosmetic treatment.

  “I spoke to the receptionist,” said Grandmother quietly. “She said your session will be nearly two hours, so I think I will go do some shopping.” She smiled stiffly. “You don’t need me to sit here and wait for you, do you?”

  “No, of course, not.”

  “You have fun then.”

  DJ nodded and returned to the form. Fun. Yeah, right.

  After a fairly long wait, DJ thought maybe she should have gone shopping too, but finally a slender brunette woman smiled down at her “Hi. You must be DJ. I’m Selena, your new best friend.”

  DJ smiled. “Are you my physical therapist?”

  “I sure am. Are you ready for some hard work?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Great. If you invest yourself in this, it will really speed up your recovery.” Selena helped DJ stand up and led her to the therapy room. At first DJ was relieved to see what looked like regular workout machines, but as Selena put her through the paces, DJ realized that she was no longer the athlete she had so recently been. And two hours later, she was totally exhausted. Her entire body ached from the exercises, but she had to admit it felt good to be moving again.

  “Here, let me help you get into your walking boot,” Selena said kindly. “I may be tough in therapy, but therapy is over now and I can baby you.” She grinned as she loosened the Velcro straps on the foam boot. “How’s your pain level?”

  “Everything still hurts a lot.” DJ let out a groan as she slid her foot into the bright blue boot. “I’ve been taking my pain meds pretty steadily.”

  “That’s okay,” said Selena. “Part of recovering is to keep the pain at bay. It allows your body to relax and heal itself better.”

  DJ cringed as Selena adjusted the Velcro straps and then began to fasten them securely around the boot. “Too bad I’m almost out of Vicodin.”

  “Oh, didn’t you have a full prescription?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, it seemed like I had more. And suddenly I didn’t. The truth is, I think that my roommate might’ve taken some of the pills.” The words popped out of DJ’s mouth before she had a chance to consider whether or not to say them.

  Selena looked at DJ with misgiving.

  “I mean, I don’t know for sure,” DJ said. “But she’s kind of like that.”

  “That’s a serious charge, DJ.”

  “I know.” She frowned. “What should I do?”

  “Well, we’ll get you another prescription. But you better make sure they’re in a secure place — possibly a safe.”

  “Seriously?”

  Selena nodded as she readjusted the top strap. “How’s that feel?”

  “It actually feels kind of good. Like it might support my leg better, and I won’t feel so worried about bumping it or hurting it more.”

  “That’s the main idea.”

  “So, am I actually supposed to actually walk on it?”

  “Not yet. Just do some gentle pushes, the way I showed you.
That kind of movement and pressure will help the bone to start knitting back together, and we’ll increase it over time.” “How soon will I be able to walk on it?”

  “If all goes well, like it seems to be, I’d think you could be putting some weight on it, along with your crutches, by late next week.”

  “And how long until I can lose the crutches?”

  Selena looked up at the calendar — it was one from CCHS with a photo of the Mighty Maroons football team above it. She flipped it from September to October then pointed to the end of the first week. “We might have you walking with a cane by then.” She grinned at DJ. “Hey, that would be in time for your big homecoming dance. You planning to go?”

  DJ shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Well, I can’t promise you’ll be dancing, but maybe you could be crutch-free by then.”

  By the time DJ got home, she felt completely worn out. And, after a late lunch, she took a nap. When she woke up it was still a bit before three — before school got out. And she had a plan. She rang the little brass bell by her bed, and after a few minutes Inez showed up.

  So far, Inez had been far more patient than usual, but now she looked slightly irate. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Sorry to bother you,” DJ said quickly, “but if you could help me, you could have your room back.”

  Now Inez brightened. “What do you need?”

  “I just want to get my things upstairs, and if you could sort of hang around and make sure I don’t fall, I’ll try to make it up the stairs.”

  Inez looked slightly concerned. “Is that okay? Did the doctor say it’s okay?”

  “I practiced doing stairs at therapy today,” said DJ. Okay, she didn’t admit that it was only three stairs up and three stairs down. But at least she’d gotten comfortable with it. “And if you help me, I think I can do it.”

  “Okay.” Inez nodded. “You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  It took awhile, but eventually DJ, with Inez’s supervision, made it up the stairs. Then, after Inez deposited DJ’s things in her room and left, DJ began searching through Taylor’s things, looking for the stolen pain pills. She was very careful, knowing that Taylor was pretty sharp when it came to her own things; but after about twenty minutes, DJ felt fairly certain that the pills weren’t there. They were probably in Taylor’s purse — or perhaps she’d already used them.