Conformation Faults

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie nodded grimly. She hoped they wouldn’t need that long, but she was glad they had it.

  Less than five minutes later, her tires were crunching over the gravel surface of A.J.’s driveway. Scott’s green sports car was already parked in front of the garage, and Scott and Callie were leaning against it. “Won’t he be suspicious when he sees all our cars in front of his house?” Stevie commented, glancing at Phil in the rearview mirror.

  “Good point.” Phil nodded. “Why don’t you pull around the corner and leave it behind that clump of trees? He’ll never notice it there.”

  Alex hopped out of the car. “I’ll tell Scott to do the same.”

  Stevie hardly heard them. She had just noticed Callie’s face. It looked as tortured as Stevie had ever seen it. Beside her, Scott was looking uncharacteristically grim. “Can you move the car?” she asked Phil distractedly. “I’ve got to talk to Callie.”

  “Uh, sure.” Phil looked confused, but Stevie ignored him. She hurried over to Callie just as she swung away from the car on her crutches. Scott gunned the motor loudly a few times, waiting for Phil to pull out from behind him. As soon as Stevie’s car was out of the way, he sped backward into the street.

  “Callie?” Stevie peered into the other girl’s face. Callie looked positively miserable. Her eyes were red, and her normally creamy complexion looked washed out and blotchy. “Callie, what’s wrong?”

  Callie blinked. For a moment she didn’t answer, as if Stevie’s appearance had taken her completely by surprise. “Hi, Stevie,” she said at last. “What’s wrong is that I’m a total idiot.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s Sheila.” Callie took a deep breath and ran a hand through her blond hair. Her voice sounded strangely hollow. “It turns out she isn’t such a great friend after all. We just found out this morning when the paper came.”

  “The paper?” Stevie felt confused. “You mean the newspaper? Did something happen to Sheila on her way home the other day?”

  “Nope. Something happened after she got home,” Callie corrected. “What happened was that Sheila took all the private things I told her while she was here and wrote a tell-all article for our local paper.”

  Stevie gasped. “You’re kidding!” she said. “What did she write?”

  “See for yourself,” Scott said from behind her.

  Stevie whirled around. She hadn’t even noticed that Scott and Phil had returned from moving the cars. Now Phil was busy unlocking the McDonnells’ front door with his borrowed keys and Scott was gazing seriously at Stevie with a folded newspaper in his hand.

  “Scott,” Callie protested, sounding embarrassed. “Don’t. I told you not to bring that. Everybody doesn’t need to see it. Not now—it’s not what we’re here for.”

  Scott shrugged. “Everybody’s going to see it soon enough.” He sounded angry, and when Stevie took the paper from him and glanced at the masthead, she started to realize why.

  “This isn’t some local paper,” she said slowly. “It’s The Washington Post.”

  “The national wires picked it up after it ran in the Valley Vista paper yesterday,” Scott explained. “The papers around here were all over it, especially since Dad just agreed to chair that controversial new welfare-reform committee.”

  “But what did she write?” Stevie was still having trouble comprehending what had happened. “I mean, what could you have possibly told Sheila that would matter to anyone else? It’s not like you’re on that committee with your dad.”

  “You don’t understand.” Scott took the paper back and flipped through the pages, folding it in the middle of the section before handing it back. “When you’re in the public eye like my father is, just about everything about you—or your family—is interesting to somebody.”

  Stevie gulped as a headline leaped out at her from the page: “Forester Family Flounders in Capital.”

  She read on, her heart sinking more with every line. The article started off straightforwardly enough, describing Congressman Forester’s rise through the state government to the U.S. House of Representatives and his family’s subsequent move to the Washington, D.C., area. It mentioned his recent work with the welfare committee Callie had mentioned, then went on to explain Sheila’s role as a close, intimate friend of the family’s.

  Then the article took a sudden turn for the worse. Sheila went on to repeat what could only be Callie’s most confidential comments. She described Callie’s fears about moving across the country and meeting new people. She outlined all the ways that Callie found Willow Creek lacking as compared to her old hometown on the West Coast, and also made some insinuating comments about some “local bruiser” Callie had loved and left behind in Valley Vista. She listed all the unflattering comments the congressman had made about the people who had voted for him and his legislative colleagues, and made it sound as though he’d only joined the new welfare committee to forward his political career. She even described, in great detail, a drinking binge that she claimed Scott had gone on a year before. The story went on and on in that vein, spilling more and more of the Foresters’ family secrets in stark black and white.

  “Wow,” Stevie said with feeling when she had read every horrible word. She glanced up at Callie and Scott. “Your dad must be furious.”

  “He is,” Scott admitted. “Only in private, of course. But if Sheila so much as shows her face on the East Coast anytime soon, he’ll probably strangle her.”

  “He won’t get a chance,” Callie said quietly. “He’ll have to stand in line behind me.”

  FIFTEEN

  Stevie swallowed hard. It was difficult to believe that anyone could be as devious, as sneaky and two-faced and downright despicable, as Sheila had been. Still, Stevie had to admit that she herself had to accept some blame for this situation. If she hadn’t pushed Callie to confide in Sheila, this never would have happened.

  “Callie,” she began tentatively, “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  “No,” Callie protested. “Stevie, please. I—I don’t really want to talk about this right now.”

  “But you must be furious.” Stevie took a step closer, wishing Callie would meet her eye. “I know I would be if someone betrayed me that way. And I feel terrible for what I did to make this happen.”

  “You don’t understand.” Callie bit her lip and shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Stevie. This is my fault.”

  Stevie’s jaw dropped. “Your fault?” she cried. “You’ve got to be kidding. You definitely didn’t do anything wrong. All you did was trust someone who didn’t deserve it.”

  “I know,” Callie said quietly, staring at the gravel beneath her feet. “And if I were an ordinary girl with an ordinary life, you’d be absolutely right to say that I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I don’t have an ordinary life, and I should have known better.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Callie fidgeted, her fingers running lightly over the smooth metal of her crutches. “I live in a fishbowl, Stevie. My whole family does. Maybe I was trying too hard to forget that recently. It’s been so great just hanging out with you and your friends, acting like a regular sixteen-year-old and not worrying about public opinion for a change—”

  “But just because your dad’s a congressman doesn’t mean you’re any different than anyone else,” Stevie argued. “You still have a right to live a normal life.”

  “A normal life?” Callie smiled ruefully. “I don’t even know what that is, not really.” She sighed. “It’s nice to imagine what it must be like. But my life isn’t like that, and I might as well accept it.”

  Stevie wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was a pretty depressing thought. Why should Callie have to suffer because of what her father did for a living? “It doesn’t seem fair,” she murmured.

  “I know.” Callie shook her head slowly. “But it’s the way it is.”

  Suddenly Stevie realized that Scott was being awfully quiet. She t
urned to him, her heart sinking. Just because Callie wasn’t pointing any fingers didn’t mean her brother felt the same way. Stevie and Scott had just become friends again after being at odds for far too long. Had this ruined things between them once again?

  She was relieved when Scott met her eye steadily. “Um, I guess I should apologize to you, too,” Stevie said. “If I hadn’t egged Callie on the way I did—”

  “Forget it,” Scott interrupted. “You couldn’t know this would happen.” He shot Callie a look. “The only person really at fault here is Sheila. Maybe my sister shouldn’t have told her some of the things she did, but Sheila still didn’t have to write that article.”

  Alex stuck his head out the front door. “Yo, what are you three doing out there?” he called. “Come on, let’s plan our strategy. The others will be here soon.”

  “Coming,” Stevie called. She glanced at Scott and Callie. “Do you want me to keep quiet about this or what?”

  Callie exchanged a long look with her brother. Then she shrugged. “There’s not much point,” she said heavily. She waved at the newspaper Stevie was holding. “It’s not exactly top secret.”

  Stevie handed the newspaper to her. “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “Our friends will understand. You can trust them to stand by you through this.”

  Callie nodded, and the barest hint of a smile played across her lips. “Thanks. You know, it’s funny. In spite of everything that’s happened, I do know that there really are a few people I can trust, and most of them are right here in Virginia. Ironically enough, my accident taught me that. But I’m just starting to realize how important that is to me.”

  Stevie impulsively flung an arm around Callie’s shoulders. “You’re becoming pretty important to all of us around here, too, you know. I don’t know what we ever did without you.”

  This time Callie’s smile was stronger, though still tinged with a trace of sadness. “Thanks,” she said again. “I guess that’s the silver lining to all this. For the first time, I really feel like Willow Creek is my home.”

  Twenty minutes later, Lisa sat on the McDonnells’ love seat with Alex and listened with half her attention as the others debated what to say to A.J. when he arrived. Everyone was there except for Carole.

  Lisa had been one of the last to arrive. She’d spent the morning shopping with her mother, who had dropped her off at A.J.’s house on her way to another of her frequent group therapy sessions. It was always a strain to be cheerful and supportive of her mother when they spent any significant amount of time together. But even now that she was gone, Lisa couldn’t seem to relax. Her mind was still filled with worries about Prancer, and her attention was focused on the door as she waited with hostility and dread for Carole to walk in.

  Lisa forced her gaze away from the door and glanced around at the worried faces of her friends. Two of the faces looked even more worried than the others, and for a moment Lisa’s conscience pricked her about feeling so sorry for herself when Callie and Scott had at least as many problems as she did right then. Scott had showed everyone that terrible newspaper article a few minutes earlier, explaining what had happened.

  It must be awful to have all your secrets revealed to the world like that, Lisa thought, watching Callie out of the corner of her eye. Especially by someone you thought you could trust …

  Her thought was interrupted by Stevie’s loud exclamation of dismay. She was staring at her watch, looking annoyed.

  “Where in the world is Carole?” she cried. “If she doesn’t get here soon, she’ll miss the whole thing.”

  Lisa bit her lip and glanced down at her lap. Having Carole miss this little gathering didn’t sound so bad to her.

  “Maybe she lost track of the time,” Phil suggested.

  Stevie jumped to her feet. “That’s it,” she declared. “I’m calling Pine Hollow.”

  She grabbed the phone off the table near the couch and punched in the number. Tapping her foot, she waited for someone to pick up. “Hello?” she barked a moment later. “Who’s this? Oh, hi, Ben. Is Carole around?”

  Lisa twisted her hands nervously in her lap, listening silently along with everyone else as Stevie explained the situation to Ben. She couldn’t help wishing that this whole day were over with already. It looked to be a pretty unpleasant proposition all around: First she would have to put up with Carole’s sulky glances and the memory of what she’d done; then there would be the intervention itself, which was certain to be awkward at the very least. She sighed. Who ever said weekends are supposed to be fun and relaxing? she wondered.

  Carole glanced over her shoulder at Ben as she rang the doorbell. “I told you we didn’t have to rush over here like this,” she said rather grumpily. “I bet A.J. isn’t even here yet. Besides, there are plenty of other—”

  She broke off what she was saying as Stevie flung the door open. “It’s about time,” Stevie greeted her brusquely. She did a double take when she noticed Ben hovering behind Carole, but she didn’t say a word about his presence. “Come on in. He’s not here yet.”

  Carole followed her inside. She still couldn’t figure out why Ben had suddenly decided to come along. I mean, he hardly even knows A.J., she thought irritably. And if he weren’t so gung ho about this intervention all of a sudden, I could have finished trimming Samson’s tail instead of dropping everything and rushing over here. She glanced at Stevie’s back, feeling frustrated and petulant.

  For her part, Stevie was feeling better as she led the two newcomers into the living room, where they joined the others. At last the intervention was back on track. She was more than a little surprised that Ben had come along. As far as she knew, he had only met A.J. a few times. Besides, he couldn’t stand Scott, and he barely seemed to tolerate most of the rest of them other than Carole. Still, the more the merrier, she told herself.

  As everyone settled in to wait for A.J. to arrive, Stevie took up a position near the window, keeping one eye on the road leading to the house and the other on Ben. Sure enough, he looked as ill at ease as she had ever seen him. He was hovering as close as he could get to the door without actually fleeing through it, and he scowled every time he looked at Scott. Although maybe that was her imagination, Stevie decided after a moment, because he seemed to be scowling an awful lot at Lisa, too.

  Suddenly Ben turned and met her eye. Stevie quickly averted her gaze, fearing he had felt her staring at him. She knew he could be pretty sensitive …

  “Hi, Stevie,” he greeted her as he joined her by the window.

  She smiled. “Hi. Thanks for coming to the intervention,” she said. “It’s nice of you to want to help A.J.”

  Ben hesitated, looking uncertain. “Uh, that’s only one of the reasons I came,” he said. “I was actually hoping to—”

  “Stevie!” Julianna exclaimed, rushing over at that moment. “I just thought of something. Do you think I should wait in the other room at first? I mean, you know, because seeing me might make him feel weird or …”

  Stevie turned to reassure the other girl. When she finished, to her surprise, Ben was still standing there, gazing at her intently. “Oh,” she said. “Um, what were you saying?”

  “Just that there’s something I think someone should—”

  This time Stevie interrupted him herself with an excited, slightly nervous yelp. She had just caught a flash of motion out of the corner of her eye. A car was approaching—Mr. McDonnell’s car. “He’s here!” she cried excitedly. “Here he comes!”

  Forgetting all about Ben, she rushed to Phil’s side. “Ready for this?” Phil asked grimly.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Stevie rubbed her hands together, feeling jittery.

  “Okay.” Phil took charge, his face and voice serious as he addressed the room. “Let’s not rush to the door. We don’t want to scare him off. Just hang here and let him find us. Okay?”

  Everyone nodded. They waited silently for several seemingly endless minutes, until finally they heard the
front door swing open. A moment later A.J. came into view. He spotted them immediately and stopped short, looking startled.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, a perplexed expression crossing his face.

  Phil took a step forward. “A.J.,” he said. “We’re here to talk to you. All of us”—he swept an arm to indicate everyone present—“all of your friends are worried about you.”

  A.J. shrugged and averted his eyes from Phil’s steady gaze. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he muttered.

  “Come on, A.J.” Phil took another step toward his friend. “We care about you. That’s why we’re here. We want to help. But first you have to tell us what’s bugging you these days.”

  A.J. looked up, his brow furrowed into a scowl. “Is that what this is supposed to be?” he demanded, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “Some kind of big confessional moment, like on TV?”

  “We’re just trying to help,” Stevie said as soothingly as she could.

  “That’s right,” Alex added. “You can trust us.”

  A.J. ignored them. He was glaring at Phil. “You’re way out of line here, old buddy,” he said evenly.

  “Look.” Phil’s voice was steady, though Stevie could see that he was trembling slightly. “We’re out of other ideas. You won’t talk to anyone, and—”

  “That’s right!” A.J. shouted, backing up a few steps into the hall. “Did you ever think it’s because I don’t want to talk to anyone? Because nobody could possibly understand what I—” He broke off suddenly and whirled around, racing for the stairs before anyone else could move. Seconds later there was the faint slam of a door from the second floor.

  Julianna was the first to react. “A.J., wait!” she sobbed, taking off after him.

  “Julianna …” Phil hurried after her. A moment later both of them had disappeared up the stairs in A.J.’s wake.

  There was a moment of silence. “Wow,” Scott said at last, taking a few steps out into the hall and peering up the stairs. “That didn’t go quite the way I was expecting.”