Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One)

by Dayo Benson

  “Like?” Sandy asked.

  “I dunno. Anything that makes me happy.”

  “Like what?”

  “My dad. He always used to say I’m just as good as any of the big models out there. That totally makes me lighten up.”

  “Is your dad, um—” Sandy began carefully.

  “Yeah.” My cell phone rang, and I snatched it up in embarrassment. My ringtone was a disgraceful pre-set tone. It was Sheena at my agency; she wanted to give me a booking for January. It was a photoshoot for a line of Poko Pano swimwear. My mom would freak out, but I took the details anyway. She couldn’t freak out about what I didn’t tell her. All eyes were on me when I hung up.

  “Was that a modeling job?” Michelle asked.

  I nodded.

  “How come you can be a model and we can’t?” she huffed. “What have you got that we haven’t?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it just depends on what they want at the time.” I decided to change the subject. “What are you guys doing this weekend? Anything good?”

  “I told you I’m going to see a therapist and it totally just went over your head,” Monica said. Her eyes welled up.

  I passed her a napkin. “What are you going for? Are you okay?”

  “Monica, are you crying?” Michelle asked. She snorted. “You’re not the only one with problems, okay? So get over it! You always act like the world owes you something, but guess what? That’s life; everyone gets shortchanged. You just have to make the best of it, instead of crying like a total wuss.”

  That was rich coming from Michelle.

  “Are you okay, Monica?” I asked.

  Michelle stood up “I’m going home.” She gave Monica a dirty look. “Some of us have real problems. Okay, so your dad’s crazy, and violent, and psychotic. It could be worse.”

  Monica got up and walked around the table. She lunged at Michelle. Luckily, Michelle was able to move out of her way quickly, sending her chair clattering to the floor.

  “Cut it out,” I yelled, jumping between them. By now, other kids in the cafeteria were looking at us. Monica tried to get past me, but I held her back.

  “Yeah, and you’re just like him, you violent psycho!” Michelle spat.

  “Shut up, Michelle!” I couldn’t believe what was going on. Were these girls crazy? I was glad when Michelle picked up her chair and Monica returned to her seat.

  “Honestly, you guys need therapy,” Sandy said, “some serious medical attention.”

  “Yeah, well I have a counseling session tomorrow,” Monica grated. “Actually, I’m not sure if I’m going.”

  “You have to go Monica,” I said.

  “Yeah, you need help,” Michelle muttered under her breath.

  Monica didn’t react. “Will you come with me, Lexi?”

  “I have a date with Jace, remember?”

  Monica looked slightly hurt, but she didn’t say anything. I felt guilty. She started shredding the napkin I’d passed her. I noticed her hands were shaking.

  “I guess I could cancel.” I really wanted to go to Chicco’s though. Darn it! I was a good friend. When Monica was with Liam, she’d never canceled on him to hang out with me.

  Sandy reached over and hugged Monica. “I’ll come too.”

  Michelle looked thoughtful for a moment. “So will I,” she said resignedly.

  “Lexi, I really want you to come with me,” Monica said.

  “Okay.”

  “And I don’t want you out in the waiting room. Come into the consultation with me.”

  So I canceled my date with Jace, and the next evening I accompanied my friends to see a psychotherapist.

  Chapter 17

  Dr. Paula was a middle-aged woman, who wore a blank expression on her face all the time, except for when we arrived and she realized there were four of us and not one as she’d expected.

  She tried to get us to have individual sessions, but we insisted on seeing her together. She complied and led us into the room that she used for group exercises. We each took a chair.

  “I sense a lot of negative energy,” Dr. Paula told us, crossing toothpick legs. “Why don’t we take it in turns to let out all that bad energy and see whether that helps?”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. “Oh, I’ll go first then,” Sandy said. She told us about her anemia. It made her too weak to do any sports or go to the gym, and she was often breathless and suffered from severe headaches. She’d had two blood transfusions in the last three years, and she’d almost died once when she went mountain climbing.

  Sheesh! I tried not to stare at her, but I was totally stunned. She didn’t look ill at all.

  Dr. Paula asked her whether her family was supportive. Sandy said they were, but that she felt like a liability to them.

  Next Michelle told us about how she felt like a failure and how some mornings she woke up and felt so rubbish that she drank beer to make her feel better. She was stammering and stuttering, and Dr. Paula told her to calm down. Michelle looked embarrassed and said she wasn’t saying anything anymore, but Dr. Paula managed to coax the story out of her with a few articulate questions. By the time Michelle was finished, she was crying. Dr. Paula had her recite: ‘I’ve confessed. I’ve let it out. I am healed.’ five times. Then Dr. Paula smiled at me and told me it was my turn.

  “I don’t really have anything to say,” I replied. “I’m just here to be supportive to my friends.”

  Dr. Paula smiled an annoyingly patient smile. “Everyone has dormant pain of some sort. Think hard.”

  “I don’t have any dormant pain.”

  “Tell her about your dad,” Michelle encouraged.

  Even Dr. Paula’s smile was expressionless. “Yes, tell me about your dad.”

  “He’s dead,” I said shortly.

  “When did he die?”

  “In February.”

  “How did he die?”

  I was determined that Dr. Paula was not going to succeed in getting my life story out of me like she had with Sandy and Michelle. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  I was surprised when she let me off the hook. “We’ll let your fresh wound heal, and then a few months down the line when it’s a good hard scab, we’ll dig it up. It’ll be less painful then,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure I liked her analogy. Besides, this was the first and the last time she was going to see me, so there would be no digging up of anything a few months down the line.

  She smiled at Monica and asked her what was troubling her. I was surprised at how honest Monica was. She didn’t seem to care that me, Michelle, and Sandy were there. She talked about her stepdad and how she hated him. She also said that she sometimes hated her mom for not being strong and leaving him.

  “You’re using very strong words,” Dr. Paula pointed out. “Is hate really the right word, or do you mean ‘dislike’?”

  “Hate is the right word,” Monica confirmed, her voice hard.

  This cold Monica was scary. The squealing, clothes/boy crazy Monica was slightly annoying, but I preferred her.

  “I hate my parents,” she said. “I hate my life. I wish I’d never been born. I wish there was some way that God would show you your life before you’re born and let you decide whether you want to live it or whether you want to remain as dust.” Monica paused, “That’s if there is a God.”

  Dr. Paula started making notes.

  “I wish I wasn’t such a coward, or I’d kill myself and put an end to it all.” Monica laughed, but the rest of us didn’t find it funny. So Michelle wasn’t my only suicidal gal pal.

  “Is there anything that makes you happy?” Dr. Paula asked.

  “Shopping, dressing up, being told I look nice.”

  “Me too,” Michelle agreed. “My looks are all I’ve got going for me. People think I’m vain and shallow, but what else do I have?”

  “I wanted to be a doctor.” Monica’s voice was still like granite.

  I was surprised to hear that. I would never have e
xpected her to want to be a doctor. I would have thought she’d study something like beauty therapy, if she studied at all.

  “Wanted?” Dr. Paula asked. “So you don’t want to be a doctor anymore?”

  “I do, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t even study anymore. All I do is sit in my room and cry, and hate myself, and stare at aspirin, and try to motivate myself to take the entire bottle.”

  I held back a gasp. If Monica was just trying to shock us, it wasn’t funny. I wanted to tell her to cut it out, but something told me she wasn’t joking.

  After the session, Michelle was given a referral for alcohol abuse counseling, and Monica was given a prescription for some antidepressants.

  I made Monica book another session. She needed it. I followed her home to get all her aspirin. She laughed about it, and I told her to stop laughing. None of this was funny. She continued to laugh. Luckily, her stepdad wasn’t in. I didn’t want to meet him.

  When I got home, I told my mom about it, and she was concerned too. We had dinner, and then I went to my room to call Jace to apologize again for canceling our date. It rang out, so I decided to call Monica and see how she was doing. I kept her on the phone for as long as possible, thinking that if I occupied her she wouldn’t be able to do anything stupid. She could easily have gone out and bought some more aspirin as soon as I left. I wasn’t taking any chances. Maybe I would start doing a bi-weekly raid of her room.

  After we talked for a while, she said was going to bed. I let her go reluctantly. I called her again fifteen minutes later to make sure she was still alive. When we hung up, I called Jace, but there was still no answer. I called Monica again—paranoid that she might be popping pills.

  “What?” she answered.

  “I just called to say, um…that I’m going to bed in a minute.”

  “Stop calling me,” Monica said in exasperation. “And stop worrying. I’m too afraid to die—no matter how much I think I want to. Plus, Tanya said I’ll go to hell if I die in this state.” She laughed.

  I let her go after making her promise me that she would go and get her antidepressants first thing in the morning. After we hung up, she sent me a text saying she loved me. That made me smile.

  Chapter 18

  On vacation, I slept until at least ten so I was not impressed when Monica called me at seven thirty on Monday morning. “What’s up?” I groaned.

  “Are you still sleeping?” Monica sounded very awake.

  “There’s no school remember.” Suddenly, I was wide awake. Why was Monica calling me so early? Maybe she’d taken the aspirin. I sat up. “What’s wrong, Monica?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

  “Just thought I’d ask if you want to go shopping.”

  Relief washed over me, and my heart rate returned to normal. “Sure!” It was out of my mouth before I remembered that I hated shopping with her.

  “Meet me at the mall. Twelve thirty, by the water fountain.”

  “Okay. See ya.” I fell asleep again.

  I woke up an hour later, but I didn’t get up. I was feeling lazy, so I just lay in bed thinking—thinking about my friends, thinking about Jace, thinking about how bizarre life was these days.

  Two of my friends were on medication, and the third was only coping with the aid of alcohol. Oh, for the innocence of freshman year, when we ate candy and studied teen mags. Now, we were grown up and going to see a shrink.

  I heard my mom talking to someone downstairs. I wondered if my grandmother or Aunt Milly had come over, or if she was on the phone.

  “Go straight up. She’s in her room,” I heard her say.

  There were footsteps on the stairs, and then my bedroom door was flung open. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

  I hid under the covers as Jace ambled over to my bed. He pulled the covers off and tickled me. I screamed.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, raking my hands through my hair to flatten it after his tickling assault. I was very glad that I’d worn nice pajamas.

  Jace looked offended. “Oh, why didn’t you tell me I’m not allowed to come and see you from time to time?” He scowled, making him look real cute. “I haven’t seen you in what? Three days? I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms.” He scowled again when I started laughing.

  “It’s not even nine o’clock, Jace.”

  “Yeah, we had training this morning, seven to eight. Coach is on a mission this season.”

  “I called you a couple times Saturday night, but you didn’t pick up.”

  “Really? I think I left my cell at church.”

  “You went to church on Saturday night?”

  “Yeah, it was an event for young people. I wasn’t going to stay home, feeling sorry for myself, just because you blew me off.”

  “Um, I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I informed Jace as he leaned in for a kiss.

  “I don’t care.”

  I pushed him away gently. “Well, I do.”

  Jace released me. “So what shall we do today?”

  I twisted my face with regret. “I didn’t know you were coming. I already promised Monica I’d go shopping with her.”

  “Can’t you cancel on her, like you canceled on me?”

  “I promise we’ll do something tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, if you’re not out with Monica again.” Jace stood and pulled me to my feet. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth?”

  I gave him an exaggerated seductive smile, although it probably wasn’t very seductive since I’d just woken up, had no makeup on, and my hair was all over the place. “Why do you want me to brush my teeth?”

  “Because your breath stinks.”

  I was about to give him a piece of my mind for that when my phone rang. “What’s up, girl?”

  “Liam’s coming shopping with us,” Monica said.

  “Are you back together?”

  “No, but if he comes, he’ll pay for everything, including all your stuff too.”

  “Monica, that is so low!”

  “Oh, please, if he wasn’t so dumb, he wouldn’t get played. Can we meet earlier too, like say eleven?”

  “Okay, but if you’re bringing Liam, I’m bringing Jace.”

  “Cool, see you later.”

  I hung up and gave Jace a pleading smile. “You wanna come?”

  He groaned. “Okay then.”

  ***

  When we got to the water fountain Michelle, Sandy, Tanya, Carl, and a guy I didn’t know were there too, apart from just Monica and Liam.

  Michelle was looking pretty radiant today, and she didn’t stink of alcohol. Maybe the counseling session had done her good. I’d read all about Jews on the Internet last night, and I’d learned new words like rabbinic literature and Shabbat. Michelle would be so proud.

  I pulled Monica aside and asked her if she’d been to get her antidepressants yet.

  “Yeah, I got them this morning.”

  “I told you to get them yesterday. Anyway, have you taken them?”

  “Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “By the way, I’m not going to the next session.”

  “Why not?”

  “I feel great. I think I just needed to let out all the anger. It was a nice cleansing experience. I don’t think I need to go again.”

  I was delighted. “Really?” Monica nodded, and I hugged her. “Oh, girl, that’s great. I’m so happy to hear that.”

  Carl came and wrapped his arms around us both. “Group hug,” he said.

  We all walked around the mall, and I couldn’t believe the way Liam and Carl were tripping over themselves to buy things for Monica, Michelle, and Sandy. I didn’t want them buying me anything, so I stuck by Jace and didn’t allow him to buy me anything either.

  The guy I didn’t know was Matt; the one Michelle had a crush on. I checked him out when he wasn’t looking. He was simply the male version of Michelle herself, blond and good-looking. I noticed that he and
Tanya seemed very engrossed with each other. They were lagging behind us, talking.

  When Monica, Michelle, and Sandy were satisfied with all their purchases we started making our way to the food court. We occupied two tables and ordered burger meals.

  “Check out the blond behind you,” Carl said to Liam, who turned round not very discreetly and stared at the girl at the next table.

  He turned back and nodded with a filthy smile. “Hot.”

  I supposed he was free to do that since he was no longer with Monica. Monica was at the other end of the table anyway, so she didn’t hear. Carl and Liam started checking out all the girls in the food court and passing really disgusting comments about a busty girl that was sitting a few tables away. I wanted to tell them to shut up, but Tanya got there first.

  “Cut it out, you guys,” she said in annoyance. “Try and have some respect.”

  “You tell ‘em, Tan,” Matt said, “because I’m sick of preaching that sermon every day after basketball.”

  Carl shook his head sadly. “Matt, man, you’re no fun. I swear you’re gay.”

  “No, I just respect girls.”

  Carl sniggered. I wanted to wipe the arrogant smirk off his face with a slap.

  Jace took out a cigarette packet from his pocket and lit one up. Tanya glared at him. “You told me you stopped smoking.”

  “Yes, cousin, I only smoke one a day now.” He exhaled a puff of smoke. “Keep praying for me though.”

  I looked around hoping we wouldn’t get into trouble over Jace’s smoking, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to us.

  Monica got up with her drink and walked off. I decided to follow her. “What’s up?” I asked, trying to keep up as she hot-footed it across the court.

  “I need to take my medication,” she said.

  “I thought you said you’ve taken it.”

  “Well, I haven’t.”

  “Then why did you say you had?” I demanded.

  “Because I didn’t want you on my case!” Monica stopped at the door to the ladies restroom. “You don’t have to supervise me while I take them.”