by Nick Rossi
“It hurts. Oh no, Darcy, it really hurts,” Claire gasped, obviously in serious pain.
“What is it? What hurts?” Darcy said, trying to help but feeling helpless.
“Ow, everything. My stomach,” Claire replied, her voice barely more than whisper. “I feel like someone is punching me in the stomach and stabbing me at the same time. Darcy – this is bad. I think we need to go to the hospital or something”.
“How? Do you think Rena would let us borrow her car? You know how she is with it,” Darcy replied, her voice rising. She was afraid she was going to alert the kids in the nearby cabins but thankfully no one seemed to notice.
“I don’t care! I think we need to go!” Claire screamed.
“Ssssh. You’re going to wake everyone up. I’ll go get the car. Where does she keep the keys?” Darcy asked, her heart fluttering.
“On the ledge by the cabin door. Go get it! Don’t worry – she sleeps like a log, She won’t hear you at all”, Claire whispered back. “Hurry!”
She walked away quickly, in the direction of the cabin that Claire was sharing with Rena. The adrenaline of the situation made her wide-awake immediately.
***
They wasted no time in driving towards the closest hospital which was apparently about half an hour away, as per Rena’s father’s immaculately pristine GPS. Half a dozen times she thought she was going to see a police car’s lights visible in her rear view mirror or hear a loud, sharp siren, but luckily they seemed to be the only car out on the road.
She figured it wasn’t the appropriate time to bring up her story of once placing all of her trust in her GPS only to turn up at the head office for a Sunglass Hut. Maybe some other time, she thought to herself, and kept on driving.
Claire, at that point, had begun to literally writhe in pain. She was emitting guttural sounds that made Darcy’s skin crawl. Sweat had fully broken out on her brow and her t-shirt had begun to stick to her chest. Even with the air conditioner on full blast, causing their hair to fly every which way, the sweat kept pouring over their foreheads.
Claire turned down the window, at once filling the car with more cool air. She took in gulps of the cold wind, hoping to alleviate some of the pain she was feeling, which she did not know how to read.
“Here, have something to drink,” Darcy said after reaching behind the passenger seat to grab a bottle of water. She handed it to Claire who gladly took the bottle and took greedy gulps.
When she saw the well-lit blue H quickly approaching, she felt like she would yell with joy. Claire saw it too and seemed to relax a bit. It seems that they had both been worried about actually reaching the hospital at all. She silently thanked the GPS gods.
Once they turned into the tiny parking lot, she slowed down the car close to the main entrance and immediately helped Claire out of the passenger seat. The two girls walked slowly to the Emergency room where a few nurses chatted animatedly around the nurses’ station.
Upon seeing the two girls enter the hospital, they quickly gravitated towards them, one nurse pushing a wheelchair over to them.
“Symptoms, please,” one nurse said, her accent a cross between southern and South American. Before Darcy had a chance to reply, they whisked Claire away, leaving her all alone in an empty waiting room in the middle of the night. All she could do at that point was grab an old People magazine from a nearby table and wait to her how her friend was going to be.
Chapter 33
Mason began to pace nervously around the small room, his hands not knowing what to do. He would clench them into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white, and then the next moment he would crack his knuckles, making a sound that could silence a room with fear and trepidation. Clearly, he was uncomfortable and apprehensive, but as with every other emotionally charged moment of his life, he seemed to be unable to deal with the situation.
She felt just as uncomfortable, but she was able to internalize her discomfort much better than Mason could. She had seen her brother react this way many times in the past, this was true, but this time was clearly different.
Still rhythmically pacing, he stole a glance at her, who at that moment was looking at the tiled floor. She noticed every crack and fissure after years of use. She saw the grooves that shoes had made from the exit door to the entrance. The room was a thorough room only, not a space meant for someone to stay within for longer than five minutes at most.
Finally, unable to take the tension any longer, she looked up at Mason who was looking out towards the parking lot that lay beyond the back door. There were no cars, no people, and no hope in that miniscule hospital waiting room that surrounded both Platt siblings. She could feel the sadness permeate the walls. Even the way the moon’s rays were causing shadows in the room made her feel like the world was crying.
"Mason, thank you for coming. I just didn’t know who else to call,” she mumbled, hoping to break the silence with a conversation that they could both have about the situation they found themselves in, but Mason immediately turned towards her when he heard her voice and interrupted.
"I don't want to hear one word out of your pathetic little mouth!” he yelled, spittle gathering on the bottom of his well-defined chin.
"Well, that's too bad because we have to talk about this!" she spat back, trying to match the volume of Mason's voice but fell way short. She wasn't afraid of other people hearing them argue because, quite literally, there was no one else around. The nurses' station was quite a distance away from them.
"You just keep everything in all of the time and don't ever want to talk about what's wrong!"
"You know, Darcy, I've had enough of this transparent act you've been putting on," Mason said, his voice lowering considerably. "Ever since I got back from Prague, you've been putting on this superficial attitude of being so nice and acting like you really care about other people's feelings. You're not fooling me anymore, though. I'm onto you. I've known you too long to know the real Darcy is nothing but a snake and a liar."
It felt like someone punched her in the stomach. She had been trying so hard all of this time to change and to become a better person. To show all of her friends and family that she was actually a good person who genuinely cared about what was going on to those she held dear. To hear Mason say those words hurt her more than she thought they would. She knew she was Darcy Platt, the 17 year old girl who apparently had had a bad attitude for a long time, and was now actively trying to make things right. Only she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all her brother. She was suddenly full of rage and of anger. She was angry at Marina for letting her enter a fantasy world that she thought was going to be so easy and fun and different than her real life as the thirty something year old woman who sometimes ate cake mix with a spoon, alone in an apartment with a widow for a neighbor. She was angry at those around her in this world of 17 year old Darcy for not giving this girl another chance at redeeming herself and proving that not everything was black and white in a teenage girls life. But mostly, she was mad at herself for thinking she could immerse herself in the life of a 17-year-old girl and think that her life would be simple.
She felt the anger boil within her. She felt her face redden and a sweat break on her forehead. She felt her palms moisten and drops of sweat fall down her back. She looked at Mason, who was still staring at her, wide-eyed, hungry for a confrontation, a fight, for blood to be spilled. And Darcy was ready for it.
"The real Darcy? You think you know the 'real Darcy', Mason?" she yelled, her voice rising to pitches she never heard before. She was scared that she would capture the attention of the nurses but in that moment didn't care. "How could you know the real me? Since you've been back from Europe, you've been nothing but rude and snide. You've treated Mom like crap, like it was her fault that you failed at College when all Mom and Dad have done for you is throw their money at you and try to make you happy. I've tried to talk to you, to be your friend, and you've pushed me away at every turn. You really are repulsive. I don't understand…
"
"You don't understand a lot of things, Darcy," Mason replied, looking out at the vacant parking lot. "You don't understand what it's like to have to keep the one thing you care most about a secret. You don't understand that having money isn't what life is all about. Mom and Dad just give me money to shut me up, to avoid them having to be involved in my life. You just sit in your bubble, judging from your throne."
"You are ridiculous. You are not even willing to give me a chance to make things right, for me to be your sister. For me to help you!" she continued, her voice stabilizing but still sounding shrill.
"Help me? You want to help me?" Mason laughed. "That's a first. You are only here because your best friend almost died!"
"Take that back," she whispered.
"Not on your life," Mason replied.
She could feel the silence in the room swallow her up. Mason didn't know what he was saying. When she had called him two hours ago, he vowed he would be there as soon as possible. It was like as soon as he heard Claire’s name, he didn’t want to slow down his being there any longer. He didn't know that what happened to Claire was because of him.
"Take it back," she repeated. Mason started at her, a smirk on his face.
"No," Mason replied.
"You really are clueless, aren't you?" she said, her voice quivering. "You are so blind. She isn't here because of me, Mason."
"Of course she is. You were driving the car," he retorted.
"Of course I was driving because she was having severe stomach pains! She couldn’t even speak, let alone drive.” Her heart began to beat wildly. She felt the pulse in her ears.
"You're just trying to save your own ass!" Mason yelled back. He began to pace the room like a caged animal, contemplating his escape.
"Mason! Did you really not notice! Claire is pregnant! Stop blaming me and support me. She’s my best friend!”
***
Mason started at her, his smirk slowly dissolving. It was like he was looking at her but through her. Darcy saw the realization register on her brother’s face of the words that come out of her mouth and the fact that they weren’t lies. Not even close.
Mason unexpectedly then immediately turned around from his position of standing in front of her and ran quickly out of the room, leaving her alone. She was momentarily shocked, which itself was strange given the last 24 hours she’d experienced, and half expected him to run back into the room. When he didn’t, she felt deflated and crumpled up on the purple and ratty chair and began to sob, not caring who heard her. AT that point she realized she was both equally worried about how Claire was doing, but also why Mason reacted the way he did. And why.
Oh God, she thought. What did I just do?
Chapter 34
Knowing that the Prom was just about a day away, panic attacks became a new and frequent presence in her teenaged life. She had been racking her brain for the last few hours, trying to determine if there were some clues or ideas that she had been missing in regards to Marina’s ominous request of making things right.
She dissected each and every relationship she had either began, ended, or continued since being thrust into her new life. She couldn’t believe it had been nearly 3 months since ‘the switch’ and with that, her feeling like she was not a step closer to discovering and identifying how she was going to keep up her end of the bargain.
She often had Marina on her mind these last few hours. Every red headed person or purple-hued dress reminded her of the gentle woman who gave her a once in a lifetime opportunity that she sincerely wished she wasn’t squandering. Unlike her first few weeks in her newly teenaged existence, she felt like she was beginning to make some serious headway with things.
Sure, there were situations that had occurred that still made her heart beat quicken and flop sweat form on her forehead, but she knew that those uncomfortable events HAD to occur. Especially with her defunct friendship with Claire, she understood that the nature of their friendship was built on pretenses that just weren’t relevant anymore. Roles has apparently been formed and adhered to between the two friends and Darcy just couldn’t in good conscience continue an unhealthy friendship that was heavily reliant upon feeling demeaned and bossed around by an alpha teenage girl who just didn’t know any better.
She knew, however, on some deeper, hidden level, that there was some more end to her side of the deal that she had to accomplish by the end of the prom. Did she have to save a life? Solve a crime? Win a contest? She had absolutely no idea.
***
She held her breath tightly before finally working up the courage to seeing her reflection in the mirror. The ornate (and exorbitantly expensive) corset that was enclosed tightly around her tiny frame really wouldn't allow her to take full breaths anyway. Silently chastising herself for renting such a ludicrously snug garment, she quickly turned around to behold the finished product of her marathon make- up and hair styling session.
For the first time since taking on this whirlwind new teenage life of hers, she did not have an endless loop of internal monologue playing in her mind. Instead, there was a genuine and welcome silence as she smiled to herself. The costume had come together perfectly: her hair fell in tight ringlets around her face, her make-up exquisitely applied courtesy of her mother. When she had first approached her mother to apply her make-up, the older woman had looked like she had just seen a ghost. It was apparently a really touching moment.
Taking a sip of water from the glass that sat atop her vanity, she felt the cool water flow down her throat and sit inside her stomach. One of the apparent advantages of wearing something that nearly caused one to faint was a full, visceral experience of ingestion of liquids. She felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Even though this was a feeling that occurred fairly frequently since 'the switch', she still wasn't all that used to it. She wished she could say that this was a novel feeling for her, this feeling of true excitement and angst, but it was something that happened pretty regularly leading up to the day of the prom. Now that the prom was actually here, she thought she was going to either throw up whatever she had in her tiny stomach, or pass out and wake up in her sad little apartment with Lucy on her lap. The feeling of nausea was heavy and seemed to press tightly upon her, and so drinking tiny sips of tepid water and flat ginger ale seemed to be successful at taking the edge off – for now, at least.
She glanced at her watch quickly and realized it would be just a few more minutes until Bennett arrived in the stretch limo she had rented for both girls to attend the big event. The location where the festivities to occur were just about a 15 minute drive away from where she lived, but both girls had decided that getting a ride from one of their parents or friends just wasn't acceptable to transport them to one of the most memorable nights of their lives. Instead, Bennett had embarked upon a seemingly impossible mission to rent a limo just days before the prom, when most of the long vehicles had already been rented months in advance.
Earlier that afternoon, she had called Darcy and let her know that she had been successful in finding a limo. She added at the end of their conversation that it was 'different', which was code word for something entirely ludicrous and embarrassing. She had felt slightly apprehensive about placing her trust in renting the limo in Bennett's hands, but she resigned as the days went on and she still hadn't gotten a dress to wear.
Turning around from the large mirror that acted as both a vanity and a full length 360 mirror, she looked at the obscenely high stilettos that she had rented alongside the gown. With all the rouching that formed the lower part of her gown, the stiletto's only function would be to add a few extra inches of height to already rather tall frame. No one was going to see them anyway. With this frame of mind, she decided to slip on her favorite pair of green Chuck Taylors. She realized that by wearing them that she seem as though she was trying to be the protagonist in a bad Hilary Duff movie, but she really wanted to be comfortable that night. She wanted to be able to dance around manically and not ha
ve blood spurting randomly from her heel or toes as the night wore on.
Closing her bedroom door behind her, she nearly stumbled upon her brother. He backed up quickly from her approach and then steadied himself.
"You look nice," Mason mumbled, an expression of surprise upon his face upon hearing his own voice actually complimenting his sister. She couldn't say anything sarcastic or wry to him because she knew he was making a decent effort in trying to be nicer.
"Thank you. Though, if I have to be honest, breathing is a challenge," she replied.
In the after math of Claire mis-carrying her baby, Darcy and Mason had made slight headways into forming some sort of brother/sister relationship. To some extent, he felt relieved that he didn't have to keep his tryst with Claire under wraps any longer. However, he was clearly very upset when he found out that Claire had indeed been pregnant with his baby.
She began to walk towards the long staircase where her mother and father stood excitedly, cameras in hand. She inwardly groaned and decided to take the plunge down the steps. Mason followed closely behind.
"Oh honey, you look just beautiful!" her mother yelled, tears glistening in her eyes. She would have rolled her own eyes but she knew this was a genuinely nice moment for her parents, especially after all she'd put them through lately.
She slowly walked down the steps as her dress was rather difficult to navigate. She knew later in the night she would probably just rip the bottom part of but until then she would try to keep the whole outfit put together, at least until pictures commemorating the event were taken. Upon stepping off the last step, she felt her mother instantly, and rather snugly, hug her, almost completely breaking off the little air flow she could get in due to the corset.
"Thanks, Mom," she whispered back. She was so constricted she could not speak any louder, even if she wanted to. Her dad smiled his silent smile upon her, the emotions that his mother so easily expressed more of a challenge for him. She attributed this to his being a successful lawyer. She'd imagined he'd had to develop those skills being in the courts for all of those years.
