by Amy Durham
Still she said nothing. She just looked away.
“Well, that really sucks,” Daniel said. “And Courtney totally sucks for telling you that way.”
“Viv, I just wanted to forget it,” I whispered, stepping around to stand directly in front of her.
“You could’ve told me,” she replied, eyes still glued to the beige tile floor. “I’d have listened.”
“I know. I was just so embarrassed. I didn’t talk about it with anyone, not even Mom, until Adrian.”
Her eyes shot to mine, narrowing in disbelief. “You told Adrian?”
And yeah. That had not been the best thing to say.
Daniel had the good sense to slip away.
“Telling him just sort of happened the other night. Mom and I almost had a fight and I went for a walk. I ran into him and just sort of unloaded.”
“I’m your best friend,” she said, her voice an eerie, startling kind of calm. “Or at least I thought I was. You spent the whole summer with those two skanks, and now that you’ve detached yourself from them, you turn to Adrian instead of me?”
“It’s not him instead of you. It’s just…”
“Forget it.” She interrupted me. “You’re hurting and I know that. I’m really sorry about that. But I can’t take being dropped by you again.”
And then she turned and walked away.
My heart constricted until I was sure my blood could no longer be circulating. What had I done? In my grief-wallowing selfishness had I killed the friendship that mattered most?
“She’ll be okay.” Adrian’s voice came from over my shoulder.
He told me last night that I had to forgive and move on before the other parts of my life would thrive again. But after the carnage of my dad’s stupidity was finished wrecking my existence, what would be left?
“And you want me to forgive him?” I asked, not looking back at him. I laughed, but out of irony not humor. “He couldn’t keep his pants on, and the fallout from it is destroying my life. His no-conscience dick has now cost me my best friend.”
“You forgive for yourself, for your own well-being.” He took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. “Love can’t grow where bitterness takes root.”
“Thanks for the philosophy lesson, but so far love hasn’t done a damn bit of good.”
I left him standing in the hall and didn’t look back as I headed for my homeroom.
* * *
The nasty way I’d spoken to Adrian was just one more thing to add to my list of reasons to hate myself. He hadn’t deserved that venom. He’d done nothing but be kind and understanding, and he’d listened without giving unsolicited advice when all my mom wanted to do was talk it out.
Even as I beat myself up over it in Pre-Calculus, I knew he wouldn’t act any different toward me the next time I saw him. He wouldn’t hold it against me. He’d just go on being exactly the same thoughtful, considerate guy he’d always been.
As Mrs. Faulkner droned on and on about polynomial equations – whatever the heck that was – sounding like about as enthusiastic as a pile of rocks, I replayed our conversation from the night before.
It would be better for Adrian if the two of us just cut our losses now. I would just go on dragging him down, and he totally didn’t deserve the crazy that came standard with me these days.
I jotted down the homework assignment and allowed myself a moment to wonder how in the world I’d get through this class without Adrian’s help, before deciding it didn’t really make any difference. Who cared if I flunked Pre-Cal? It wasn’t like I was ever going to be a physicist or math professor. I’d be doing good to just get back to normal again, though I’d begun to think this was my new normal.
Besides, I might as well get used to being without Adrian. If I didn’t end it now, he’d walk away eventually anyway. And why not? I’d lost my dad. I’d lost Vivian. Seemed it was only a matter of time before everyone important was gone. I could at least make sure some of it was on my own terms.
Life sucked.
Chapter 16
I strategically avoided Adrian – and most everyone else – all morning long. Thanks to the unpleasant conversation with Viv, and my subsequent spitefulness to Adrian, I hadn’t stopped at my locker before homeroom to leave my backpack. Instead, I just drug it with me. When the bell rang to end each class, I’d pretend to look through it for some unnamed object necessary for the next class, giving the halls a chance to clear before I ventured out.
Several times, I hid in the bathroom until I could move to my next class without interacting with anyone.
Then I made the unfortunate decision to drop the backpack at my locker before going to the cafeteria. And got caught in the pre-lunch melee.
Scads of kids crowded the hall, all pushing through to their lockers, hoping to beat the second wave of lunchers to the line.
As if school lunch was something to get that excited about.
Darting my eyes back and forth, I scanned the crowd for Adrian, Viv, Courtney, or Nikki, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw none of them.
How sad that I now thought of Adrian and Viv in the same context as Nikki and Courtney.
I grabbed onto the built-in combination lock, hurrying to open my locker and be done with it. It’s true what they say about haste making waste, because I misdialed the combination three times.
Giving Courtney just the opportunity she needed.
“Zoe.” Her snarky voice floated through the air like nails on a chalkboard as she leaned a shoulder against the locker next to mine. “I hated that we didn’t get to finish our talk yesterday.”
“We finished,” I said, making my tone flat and dry in an effort to put a stop to whatever she had planned.
It was interesting to see this side of Courtney. Normally she just trailed along behind Nikki, adding yeah or a that’s right to whatever dribble Nikki spit out. What had caused this change in initiative? And did it really matter?
I decided it did not.
“I have nothing to say to you.” I gave up on the lock, hitching my backpack further onto my shoulder and making the decision to spend my lunch break hiding in the bathroom. Again.
“No sense denying it,” she said with a roll of her eyes, as if we were talking about something as senseless as a piece of gossip. “Your dad and my mom hooked up.”
I looked down the hallway, toward the lobby and the cafeteria entrance, hoping the hall had cleared enough for a quick getaway.
No luck.
Adrian stood in the lobby, looking at me with concern. Probably waiting for me, since we usually saw each other for a few minutes at lunch. No thank you. Not today.
I looked back at Courtney. “I’m not denying anything. But I won’t air my family’s business out in public.”
Glancing back toward the lobby, Adrian still stood, but was no longer looking at me. Instead, his eyes were fixed beyond me, somewhere down the hall. I turned to try and see, but Courtney leaned closer and blocked my view.
“It’s my family’s business too.”
“Oh please,” I sneered, tired of this insanity. “If you call your mom getting it on with a married man family business, then you’re a bigger tramp than I thought. All you’ve done with this latest episode is make yourself look even trashier.”
Whatever she said next got lost in the roar of my pulse in my ears, as I turned away and walked toward my hiding place in the girls’ restroom.
Chapter 17
“Zoe Gray, report to the principal’s office.”
The words boomed over the intercom, obnoxiously loud in the empty bathroom. Had one of the girls who’d been in and out of here reported me to the office for skipping lunch?
And was skipping lunch even considered a broken rule?
At least the halls were clear and the air fresher when I stepped out into the hall, taking a quick left and heading toward the front lobby. Maybe if I was lucky I could stretch this office visit out until after the next class change and steer clear
of anyone I didn’t want to talk to.
The waiting room outside Principal Burton’s office reminded me of the dentist’s sitting area. The maroon chairs were upholstered with some kind of heavy fabric that looked more concerned with withstanding a nuclear blast than being soft or comfortable, and the walls were lined with encouraging posters, proclaiming Attitude is Everything and Education is What You Make it, So Make it Great.
I plopped into one of the lovely chairs and noticed Mr. Austin speaking with Mr. Burton in the other room. My visit here must have something to do with student government elections.
But when Mr. Austin looked my direction, his expression was somber. He looked back at Principal Burton and shook his head, as if he was declining something.
As he left the office, he didn’t speak. My stomach sank.
Mr. Burton stepped into the lobby. “Miss Gray, come in.”
Worry bubbled in my chest as heat crept into my cheeks. Somehow I knew I was walking into a trap.
“Take a seat,” Mr. Burton said, pushing the door closed behind him.
I did as I was told, silently praying as he returned to his office chair on the other side of the desk. The ominous vibe in the room made the air heavy and difficult to breathe.
“We found the items that were taken from Mr. Austin’s classroom.” Mr. Burton rested his elbows on the desk, leaning across just enough that I could see disappointment dripping from his expression. And smell the old man aftershave he must’ve used copious amounts of.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “I haven’t even been to Mr. Austin’s class yet.”
“We found his iPhone and digital camera in your locker.”
A meteor landing directly on my head couldn’t have stunned me more. My chest pounded as if I’d run a marathon, panic racing through my veins.
“I didn’t steal them.” The quick denial sounded pitiful, but it was all I could come up with. “I swear I didn’t.”
“He reported the items missing at the beginning of fifth period,” Mr. Burton explained. “Security video has shown you making a point to only be in the hallway after it’s cleared, as if you didn’t want to be seen. Further, it shows you stopping at your locker between fourth and fifth period, then making your way to the girls’ restroom where it appears you stayed.”
Are you freaking kidding me? All I’d wanted was to avoid having to talk to people. I couldn’t believe my attempt at a low profile had put me in the interrogation room.
“The video footage is suspicious enough, but finding the items in your locker is the most damaging piece of evidence.”
“I haven’t been in Mr. Austin’s room. Check your video again. You won’t see me going into his room.”
“The time lapse between camera shots is enough that you could’ve gone in, taken the items from his desk, and been gone before the camera outside his room picked up again.”
And now I was pissed. The stupid security video was enough to make me look suspicious, but faulty enough not to prove me innocent. “Sounds like the security video doesn’t do a lot of good.”
I knew it came across as smart-ass, but I didn’t care. I was as good as guilty in his book anyway.
“That tone isn’t helping,” Mr. Burton scolded.
No kidding.
What was worse was the fact that Mr. Austin thought I’d stolen from him. First of all, I was not a thief. Second of all, even if I was, Mr. Austin was the last person I’d steal from. I’m sure my run for student government was dead in the water now.
Not that I really cared. But yeah… I did care. I’d just begun to try and reclaim a little of my life, agreeing to run for class secretary, and now that was over before it even got started.
“Your mother has already been called.”
Fan-freaking-tastic. I’d never see my car keys again.
“She’s on her way to get you,” he said. “You’re suspended for three days.”
“Suspended?” I’d never even been to the principal’s office for discipline before.
“Be glad that’s all it is.” Mr. Burton pushed back from his desk. “Mr. Austin could’ve pressed charges, but chose not to.”
My heart sank. Just the thought of my favorite teacher even having to consider taking legal action against me made me sick to my stomach.
And then Mom walked in the door.
Chapter 18
“You are not to leave this house.” Mom’s tone was matter-of-fact as she grabbed her purse and began digging for her keys. “For any reason.”
We’d been all through this when she picked me up from school yesterday afternoon, but I figured it must’ve made her feel better to hash it all out again.
All sorts of retorts bounced around in my mind. What if the house is on fire? Can I leave then? What if someone breaks in and attacks me? Am I allowed to run away from him?
I thought better of it and kept them all to myself.
“Fine.” I did my best to make my voice void of emotion.
“Tomorrow I’ll be home with you all day, but I couldn’t make arrangements to be off on such short notice today.”
And of course, the fact that she would have to take an unpaid day from work tomorrow was completely my fault.
I said nothing. Just sat at the kitchen table staring at my bare feet.
“I will call every hour,” she went on. “On the landline. Your cell phone is in my purse, along with the car keys I’ve been keeping for weeks. And I will be back on my lunch hour.”
Whatever.
“And at some point, whether you want to or not, you are going to talk to me about this. You don’t get to hide behind your walls for months on end this time.”
“I told you the truth yesterday.” I whispered, because it was the only way to keep the hurt from showing in my voice. I didn’t want her to know how devastated I’d been when she didn’t believe me.
“I’d like to believe you, but you’ve made that next to impossible.”
Right. And now would not be the best time to point out that she’d either forgotten or failed to notice that I really had been starting to come out of my funk.
Didn’t matter anyway. I was right back in the funk thanks to this latest drama.
“I have to leave for work now,” she said. “Do some thinking today. And maybe think about someone other than yourself.” And then she was gone.
For the briefest of moments I thought with longing about the first time I’d gone out drinking with Nikki and Courtney. Not that I missed the two of them. I certainly did not. But I couldn’t help but remember that first hit of alcohol. The burning sensation that I felt all the way down my chest. The way my limbs had begun to feel rubbery and loose. The way that all at once nothing hurt anymore. Memories didn’t stab at me like a dagger.
A shame that the means to such a blissful end had to be so dangerous. And illegal.
But no. I would not fall back into that trap. I might be miserable and lonely and all sorts of other unpleasant things for the rest of my life, but I would not be a drunk.
I at least had a choice in that.
Pushing up from the kitchen table, I grabbed a back of nacho chips and headed for the couch.
The rest of my morning consisted of meaningless reruns and junk food. Anything to keep my mind occupied with drivel rather than the mess that was my life. When thoughts of Adrian, Vivian, and my dad threatened to creep in, I slammed them back with chocolate or chips or loud music.
Mom’s suggestion that I spend the day in reflection was about as effective as trying to dry up a river with a cotton swab. I could reflect all day on Mr. Austin’s stolen items and I still wouldn’t be guilty of stealing them.
However, I was guilty of plenty, and that’s what coursed through my brain during my hours of thinking of someone other than myself. Namely, all the people I’ve hurt or pushed away.
I hid the junk food when Mom came home for lunch and pulled out a book assigned by my English te
acher. She offered me lunch, in a much nicer voice than the one she berated me with this morning, but I refused and told her I wasn’t hungry. She thought I was being pouty, which was partially true, but she didn’t know about the candy and nacho chips.
The afternoon was more junk food and music, but I did manage a nap for no other reason than sheer boredom. I waffled back and forth between wishing the time would pass faster and dreading the moment Mom came home. Finally, I popped open my laptop and checked my email, for lack of anything better to do.
And found a new message from Lea.
Hello Zoe. I know the start of the school year must be busy. You must be so excited to start your senior year. I’m sure there are dances and ballgames and all sorts of fun things! I just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you and looking forward to hearing from you again. Our new computers and improved technology at the center have made it much easier to access email and the internet. I’ll be able to respond more quickly to you now. And if you don’t mind, keep a little girl named Ruby in your prayers. She is a regular here at the center. A sweet and vibrant girl. She has pneumonia and is really suffering. We are all anxious for her to recover and get her strength back. Take care and enjoy your senior year! Love, Lea.
Again, I closed the email without replying. My problems seemed so small in comparison to what Lea just described. And even though I knew in my head that wallowing in this misery was stupid and detrimental, I didn’t have the power to stop it. Lea didn’t deserve to have all of my issues dumped on her when she had so much else to focus on.
When I heard Mom’s keys in the door, an hour earlier than usual, I closed my laptop and pretended to still be sleeping. Her footsteps stopped as she came through the living room and I could tell she was looking at me lying on the couch.
She headed to the kitchen and had just set her keys on the counter when the phone rang.
From her end of the conversation, I could tell it was Mr. Burton. I sat up and rolled my eyes, quite sure he was delivering more great news. I picked up my book and tuned them out.
