High Heels and Lipstick (12 page)

When I woke up Saturday morning, I figured I'd be in for more of the same. My parents would be home all day, which sucked. They would probably keep getting in my face about how I was feeling and whether I'd decided to cave and go to Leigh-Anne's school. Or whatever else they decided to bug me about. By the time I'd been born, they'd pretty much given up on being smothery parents because they had too much to do, but lately they'd been really annoying. And apparently had too much time on their hands.

I took a shower and got dressed, even though I didn't plan to go anywhere. I hated spending all day in pajamas, and this way, if my parents got on my nerves too much, I'd be able to put on shoes and a jacket and walk out the door.

While I was choosing between a low-cut sweater and a college sweatshirt I'd scammed off one of my brothers, my phone rang. My chest tightened, and my stomach, which had been cooperating pretty well the past couple of days, started churning.

I grabbed the phone off my nightstand. I didn't recognize the number, and there was no way in hell I would answer a call without knowing who it was. Just because the person had my new number didn't mean they were someone I actually wanted to talk to. I'd only given the number to people I trusted, but Gina had proven that some of the people I trusted didn't actually deserve it. And she was one of the people who had the new number.

It might have been a wrong number. I hoped so. Otherwise I would have even more reason to be paranoid.

The ringtone stopped, and after a few seconds the message tone pinged. I keyed in the code for my voice mail and braced myself.

“Hi, Chastaine, it's Brittany. Um, you said you wanted to know if Maryellen could have visitors. Um, she's awake and stuff, and her parents said it's okay for people to go see her, but I didn't ask them about you specifically. So call me if you want to see her, and I'll find out if they're okay with it, if you want.” She didn't sound exactly thrilled about the idea. Either she was nervous, or she didn't really want me to go. The only way to find out was to call her.

I found her number in the recent calls list and hit the screen.

She answered quickly. “Hi, Chastaine?”

“Yeah. How'd you get my number?” I didn't necessarily mind her having it, but I wanted to know who'd given it to her.

“Eleanor Alice.”

“Oh.” I'd given my new number to El-Al and Gina because I'd still believed they were my friends at the time when I'd made the change. Obviously that wasn't true for Gina. I hadn't completely decided about El-Al. I would definitely have to tell her not to give anyone else the number without asking me, but I didn't mind her giving it to Brittany under the circumstances. “How's Maryellen? Have you seen her?”

“Not yet. I'm going this afternoon. My dad's taking me.” She paused. “She's still in the regular hospital, but tomorrow they're sending her to an inpatient place. You know, for the suicide thing.”

“Oh,” I said again, because I didn't know what else to say.

“If you're going to see her, it'll have to be today,” Brittany said. “Her mom says she won't be able to have visitors except immediate family in inpatient.”

“Do you think I can catch a ride with you and your dad?” I hadn't even considered how I would get to the hospital. For that matter, I didn't even know which hospital Maryellen was in. Boston had a ton of them.

“Can I call you back?” Brittany asked. “I have to find out if it's okay with Maryellen's parents for you to visit her, and then I have to ask my dad if we can give you a ride.”

“Yeah, that's fine.” I hoped she would actually follow through. She didn't sound pleased about the idea, but she was the one who'd called me, so she didn't have much room to complain if I took her up on it.

“Okay. If I don't call you back in an hour, call me.”

“I will.”

She hung up without saying anything else. I chose the sweatshirt—if I was going to be out in public and around other people's parents, I figured it was better not to wear my usual type of clothes—and finished getting dressed.

On my way downstairs, I heard banging in the kitchen, followed by my mom's voice and Jane's. I froze. If Jane was there, Gina might be. Right now, I didn't want to see either of them.

My stomach rolled again, and I gagged. Anxiety sucked.

Mom was at the counter doing something with the coffeemaker. Jane was sitting at the island. Fortunately, Gina was nowhere in sight.

“Good morning, Chastaine,” Mom said without turning around.

“Hi, Chastaine.” Jane didn't look at me.

“Good morning.” I walked over to Mom and leaned against the counter beside her. “What's going on?”

“Jane came over to talk.” Mom kept messing with the coffeemaker. “She said she thinks the situation at school may have been misunderstood.”

“I saw the word ‘slut' on my locker,” I said. Mom flinched and so did Jane, but I didn't care. “That isn't a misunderstanding. Someone painted it on there, and according to Mr. Lawrence, the same person painted it on Maryellen's locker. That word isn't generally used as a compliment at our school.”

“But you're accusing Gina of doing it,” Jane said. She sounded a little pissed but also uncertain.

“I didn't accuse Gina of anything.” I narrowed my eyes. Of course she would take Gina's side. She was Gina's mom. As long as my mom remembered whose side
she
was supposed to be on, everything would be fine. “I didn't even find out Gina did it until after she was suspended. I didn't say anything about her to anyone. Neither did Maryellen, since she's in the hospital recovering from trying to frigging kill herself because so many people have been bullying her.”

Both of them flinched again. This time, I couldn't help feeling a little happy about it.

“Your mother said you told her Gina did it,” Jane said.

“Yeah.” I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Apparently in her mind, passing along information after the fact equaled accusing Gina in the first place. “I told her that because people at school told me it was Gina. And they told me
after
Gina had already been suspended. It sounds to me like you're the one making accusations, Jane.”

Jane frowned and folded her arms. “Gina says she never touched your locker, and you're only trying to get her into trouble.”

I clenched my fists and hid them behind my back. This woman was just plain not hearing a damn thing I said. “Maybe she didn't do it. I don't know and I don't really care. All I know is someone painted that word on my locker, and other people told me Gina did it. And I did not have anything at all to do with her getting in trouble for it. I did not say her name to anyone. Am I speaking slowly enough for you?”

“Chastaine,” Mom said in a warning tone.

Jane didn't seem to care that I was being disrespectful. She was too busy trying to make me into the bad guy. “She says you were talking to Mr. Lawrence before school.”

“Yeah.” I was struggling to keep my temper. Her daughter was the bitch who'd contributed to making my life hell after claiming to be one of my best friends for years. I hadn't done a damn thing, and I shouldn't have been the one sitting there being interrogated. “He wanted me to know what was on my locker before I saw it. He didn't ask if I had any idea who did it, and I didn't take any guesses. I wouldn't have suspected Gina if
other people
hadn't
told me she did it.
”

I hoped putting some extra emphasis on those few words would get through Jane's head. I doubted it, though. She didn't care who got in trouble as long as it wasn't her precious baby girl.

“I don't see this discussion going anywhere.” Jane stood. “I've heard all about the accusation you made against that boy, Chastaine. Your mother told me, and so did Gina. Gina said you were dating him and got tired of him, so you decided to cause problems.”

“What?” I yelled. Mom waved at me to quiet down, but I wasn't about to just let bullshit like that go. “Yeah, I was dating him. And while I was dating him, he had sex with me without my permission. Just so you know, that's called rape. No means no, even if someone said yes a zillion times before. And if I was lying to make trouble, I would have said something when it happened, not waited four months!”

“Someone with your reputation can't be raped.”

I didn't know whether to scream, slap her fat face, or both.
Mom saved me the decision. “Get out of my house, Jane,” she
said in a deadly calm voice. “You are not going to stand there and speak to my daughter that way. Rape is rape, no matter who the victim is or what she's done in the past. You of all people should know that, or have you decided Mr. Sumter didn't rape you after all?”

Jane's mouth dropped open, and her face turned white. I didn't know who Mr. Sumter was, but she obviously did, and it wasn't a good memory for her.

She didn't bother saying anything else, just whirled around and walked away. She slammed the back door so hard it shook the house.

I burst into tears. I'd trusted Gina, and her parents had always been like another aunt and uncle to me. And now, thanks to Jim, or thanks to Guillermo, or thanks to me being an idiot, I'd lost them.

Mom pulled me against her and held me tightly, and I just cried. I didn't know what else to do. I'd held too much in for too long, despite all the crying I'd already done that week, and I
couldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted to. Mom kept
murmuring stuff I couldn't quite hear over my sobbing, and she rocked me back and forth a little the way she'd done when I was a kid.

After a while, I started calming down. I was still crying, but no more throat-ripping sobs. Just sniffles and tears running down my face.

“She's upset about Gina getting suspended,” Mom said. “It's going to show up on Gina's college applications, and that's all Jane is thinking about right now. She's angry and looking for someone other than Gina to blame. You know how she is about her kids.”

“She's a bitch.” I hadn't meant to say that. Jane was Mom's friend, and Mom didn't like hearing anyone put down her friends.

Then again, Mom didn't like hearing anyone put down her kids, either, and we were more important than her friends. Jane had crossed a major line.

“I kind of have to agree,” Mom said. “She had no right to say what she said about you.”

“She believes her kid, like you said.” I pulled away and grabbed a piece of paper towel, since we didn't have any tissues in the kitchen. After I dabbed my eyes and nose, I felt a little better. At least I didn't have wet all over my face.

“Why would Gina say you were only trying to get that boy in trouble?” Mom frowned. “I don't understand. She's always been your friend. She should be supportive.”

“She went out with him a few times before he started seeing me.” And she'd acted like she hadn't cared when Jim moved on from her to me. It wasn't the first time a guy had stopped dating one of us to date the other. Sometimes we'd even dated the same guy at the same time, and neither of us had ever had a problem with it.

I was really starting to wonder how much of a problem Gina had had with me dating Jim. For her to go as far as she had against me, either she must have genuinely believed I had some vendetta against Jim, or she had a vendetta against me because she was jealous.

“You and she have been friends most of your lives,” Mom said. “And Jane and I were friends back in high school, before we both went off to college and lived in different places for a while. If either of them is willing to believe the worst of you, they aren't people we need in our lives.”

Maybe that was true, but it still hurt like hell. Until now, I hadn't realized how much Gina actually hated me. Or that she was telling people I'd only said it because I was tired of dating Jim.

I had to stop thinking about her. If I'd lost a friend, so be it. I had other friends. Maybe not as many as I'd believed, but at least I knew now who I could trust and who I couldn't.

Gina was a hypocrite, anyway. I knew how many guys she'd slept with. Her number wasn't a whole lot lower than mine. So if I was a slut, she was one too.

I was getting way too angry to deal with anything, and I didn't want to feel that way. Gina wasn't worth the energy. Besides, I had more important things to do.

“One of Maryellen's friends called,” I said. “Maryellen can have visitors, but only until tomorrow. They're moving her somewhere else.” I didn't tell Mom that Maryellen was going into a psych hospital. Mom didn't need to know everything. “She's going to find out if I can visit, and if I can go with her and her dad later.”

“Do you think that's a good idea?” Mom took a deep breath. That was when I noticed the tears in her eyes. The whole time she'd been trying to comfort me, she must have been crying too. I hadn't even realized it.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She turned away and poured a cup of coffee. “I'm a little saddened by how Jane acted. I'll be fine. I know what kind of person she can be, so I'm not really surprised. Just hurt. Are you sure it's a good idea for you to visit Maryellen?”

Mom was acting way too calm, but I didn't call her on it. If she didn't want to talk to me, she wouldn't. And her friendship with Jane was her business, not mine.

“I want to remind her she isn't alone,” I said. “She did this because of what people were saying to her. I'm glad she wasn't at school yesterday to see what was on our lockers, but I don't know what she's been dealing with. She doesn't talk to me. But I didn't really talk to her either, and maybe that's part of why she did what she did. Maybe she felt like everyone was turning their backs on her, including me.”