High Heels and Lipstick (13 page)

“It isn't up to you to take care of her.” Mom sat at the island and took a sip of her coffee.

“I'm not trying to. I just want to remind her there are people around who understand.” Honestly, I wasn't sure seeing Maryellen would be good for either of us, but it felt like the right thing to do. And the more Mom tried to talk me out of it, the more determined I was to go.

“If no one has a problem with it, I guess it's okay,” Mom said. “What else are you planning to do this weekend?”

I shrugged. “Homework. TV. That's about it. I don't exactly have a lot of friends to hang out with anymore, and I'm trying to avoid being online for a while.”

“I don't blame you,” Mom said. “You spend so much time just sitting around on weekends, though.”

I really didn't want to get into another discussion of how I never did anything. When I'd had friends and had gone out all the time, my parents had complained about it. Now they were complaining because I didn't do that anymore. If they couldn't make up their minds, it wasn't my problem.

“I don't want breakfast,” I said. That would give Mom something else to argue with me about. “I'll probably eat something after I hear back from Maryellen's friend.”

Mom opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Never mind. Okay. Just let me know before you go anywhere.”

“Yeah.”

I was a little surprised she hadn't tried to make me eat, but I was happy about it. One less thing to debate with her.

My chest ached, and my stomach was too messed up for me to even think about putting food into it. As I headed into the living room to try to find something on TV, my brain replayed the confrontation with Jane. The way she'd looked at me was total hatred. Her precious had royally screwed up, and Jane couldn't accept that possibly Gina wasn't an angel after all. Like Mom said, Jane needed someone to blame, and I was convenient.

I didn't care why Jane had turned on me and Mom. She was a bitch. End of story. Her reasons for being one didn't matter.

She hated me. Gina hated me. Probably Gina's dad and brother hated me too. Just more names to add to the list.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop thinking that way. Other people's opinions of me didn't have to matter if I didn't want them to. I just had to concentrate on good things, as soon as I managed to think of any.

M
Y
PHONE
rang, and the same number as earlier showed on the screen. I answered. “Hi, Brittany.”

“Hi,” she said. “I talked to my dad, and he talked to Maryellen's parents. It's okay for you to see her and to ride in with my dad and me, but you have to find another way to get home. Dad and I are going somewhere else after.”

“No problem.” I would be able to take the Boston transit system home. It didn't go into our town, but we had a bus service that ran through town and to the nearest train station. That would be easier than asking my parents to pick me up. “Um, which hospital?”

“Mass General. Are you ready to go? Dad wants to leave now.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“We'll be there in a few minutes. See you then.”

“Okay.”

She hung up without asking where I lived, which freaked me out a little. Then again, it was a small town, and a lot of people knew me and my family. Plus El-Al might have given Brittany my address along with my number.

I went back to the kitchen. Mom was sitting alone with her coffee cup, staring at nothing. She jumped a little when I walked over to her. “Your dad's at the gym, by the way,” she said. “He's going to be home around lunch. I didn't have a chance to tell you.”

“Okay.” I wasn't sure why she was telling me anyway. I hadn't asked, and it didn't matter to me what my parents did with their Saturdays. I knew Dad went out to play some kind of sports or exercise most weekends anyway. “Brittany just called again. Maryellen's friend. She and her dad are on the way to pick me up so we can go see Maryellen. I'll be taking the T home.”

“Are you sure?” She looked up at me. “Is that going to be safe?”

“Oh, for—” I stopped myself before my usual end of that sentence slipped out. “It's Saturday. Daylight. The trains and buses might be crowded, but it won't be any less safe than the hundreds of other times I've taken the T into the city and home again.”

“You never know. They had something on the news….” She trailed off.

I'd heard the news story the night before too. Something about a guy who'd been groping women on the subways. Crap like that happened all the time in pretty much every city, as far as I knew. Some guys got their rocks off touching people they shouldn't, and some of them figured all women existed for the sole purpose of helping them get their rocks off.

Some people really sucked, but definitely not all. And the odds were in my favor as far as whether I would run into any of the ones who did.

“You realize nothing has ever happened to me on the T, right?” I said. “No stranger has ever done anything to me.”

“I know. I just worry.” She stood. “Do you need money?”

“I can always use money.” If she was offering, I didn't see any reason to turn it down. An idea popped into my head, and I decided to share it. “I should look for a job. Then you and Dad won't have to give me cash all the time, and it'll give me something to do so you won't worry about me sitting around by myself.”

“I think we should talk about that with your dad. Your grades are the most important thing, and you're having enough trouble keeping those up without a job taking your time.” She went over to her purse, which she kept on a hook by the back door because she always lost it otherwise, and took some cash out of her wallet.

She handed it to me, and I stuck it in my pocket without counting it. “Thanks. I have to get my purse upstairs. If they get here, ask them to wait a second.”

Mom nodded, and I ran up to my room to grab the purse where I'd left my wallet.

A car door slammed out front as I reached the bottom of the stairs, and I opened the door before Brittany reached the steps. “I'm leaving, Mom,” I called over my shoulder before going outside and closing the door.

Brittany looked a little confused, but all she said was, “Hi.”

“Hi. Thanks for calling me and letting me go with you.”

“You're welcome.” She led me to the car and motioned at the passenger side. “Front or back?”

“Um….” She should have decided. It was her car. But some people had a thing about letting guests make the choice. “Back, I guess.” That would be less awkward.

Brittany nodded, and we got into the car. A guy with gray hair, who looked kind of short even though it was hard to tell with him sitting down, turned to smile at me from the driver's seat. “Hello.”

“Hi.” I shrank back, feeling shy though I didn't understand why. People's parents didn't usually intimidate me.

“Dad, this is Chastaine Rollo,” Brittany said. “Chastaine, this is my dad.”

“You can call me Victor,” her dad said. “It's nice to meet you, Chastaine.”

“Nice to meet you too.” I sat up straighter. “Thank you for giving me the ride. I've been really worried about Maryellen, but I didn't think anyone would let me see her.”

“Her mom said she's been asking about you.” Victor turned around and drove away from my house.

He kept talking while we drove into the city. Mostly just questions about school and sports and that kind of thing. I answered when the questions seemed to be addressed to me, but mostly I didn't pay a lot of attention. I was feeling a little light-headed and wished I'd eaten something. On the other hand, I felt so nauseated that not eating had probably been for the best. I hated hospitals, and I didn't even know what I would say to Maryellen.

Victor had to park a few blocks away from the hospital, and we walked up the street together. I had to stop outside the door to Maryellen's room for a minute to breathe so I wouldn't completely lose it.

Maryellen was propped up in the bed. She looked pale and thinner than the last time I'd seen her, though that might have been because she was wearing a hospital gown that was way too big. A woman who resembled her a little was sitting in a chair next to the bed, and a tall guy with glasses stood behind the chair.

They all looked toward us when we walked in. The woman managed a smile. Maryellen and the man didn't even try.

“Thanks for coming,” the woman said.

“Thanks for letting us,” Victor replied. He gestured at me. “This is Chastaine.”

“Maryellen said you helped her a lot.” The woman turned her smile to me. “I'm Maryellen's mother, Mrs. Rourke, and this is my husband.”

“It's nice to meet you,” I said, even though it seemed like a pretty stupid thing to say under the circumstances. I figured if Mrs. Rourke could smile, so could I. I pasted one on and looked at Maryellen. “Hey. Glad to see you're doing better.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I'm here.”

“That's a good thing.” Brittany went over to the bed and stood there with her hands twitching, like she wanted to touch Maryellen but didn't quite dare to. “People like having you around.”

“Yeah, that explains all the messages and stuff,” Maryellen said sarcastically.

“I'm sorry,” I said without thinking.

Maryellen looked surprised. “Why? You didn't send any of the messages, did you?”

“No, of course not.” I hesitated. “I'm sorry I didn't know how bad it was getting for you, and I didn't try to get people to leave you alone. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you more or let you know I was there if you needed someone to talk to.” I motioned at the room in general. “I'm sorry you felt like you had to do whatever you did that ended you up here.”

She pressed her lips together for a second. “We aren't friends. I didn't expect you to be around.”

Those words in her cold, thin voice jammed into my heart like a knife, and I wanted to start crying. I held myself together, though. Maryellen had every reason to be hurt and pissed off. And I wasn't the one lying in a hospital bed.

“We could be friends,” I said.

She shook her head. “I don't want to be. No offense. I can't look at you, because it makes me think about what happened and all the things people have said to me since I reported it.”

Even though I'd kind of expected to hear something like that, it hurt way worse than I'd thought it would. My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times. I was damn sure not going to cry in front of the kid who'd tried to kill herself.

“Maryellen, if seeing Chastaine is so difficult, why did you ask her to come?” Mr. Rourke asked.

“I don't know.” Maryellen looked at her dad. “I guess I wanted to find out if it would be better, but it isn't. But I wanted to see if she was okay too.”

“I'm okay,” I said. “Same old, same old.”

“Good.” Maryellen hesitated. “They say things to you too, right?”

“Yeah. A lot of things.” I just hoped she wouldn't ask me what.

“It sucks,” she said. “Sorry you have to deal with it. I'm not going back to that school, just so you know.”

“Ms. Rondeau said something about that. It's too bad.” I didn't know what else to say.

“Not really. I won't have to deal with other people's crap.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then looked at me. “Thanks for caring. I don't want to be mean, but I really would like you to leave now. This is hard.”

“It is for me too. Thanks for letting me come.” I glanced at her parents to include them in the thank you. “Take care.”

“Yeah,” Maryellen said. “You too.”

I didn't have anything more to say, and obviously I was no longer welcome there, so I walked out into the hallway. Tears trickled down my face, but I shut them down. There were too many people wandering around, and I didn't want anyone staring at me wondering what my problem was.

I took out my phone and looked up how to get home by public transit. It was easier than I'd thought, only a half-mile walk to the nearest Blue Line station and onto the train that went closest to my town. At least the temperature had gone up a little, so walking wasn't totally unpleasant, and I'd worn decent shoes that didn't kill my feet while I walked.

The whole way home, I couldn't stop thinking about what Maryellen had said. I'd suspected she kind of blamed me for all the bullying and nasty comments she'd been dealing with, but hearing it hurt like hell. She had only come forward about what Jim did to her because of me. She hadn't even reported it to anyone else until I'd convinced her.

I'd told Maryellen she should report it so it wouldn't happen to anyone else, but the truth was, I was selfish. Knowing I wasn't the only one Jim had raped made me feel better. Which was a sucky thing for me to feel, and a really shitty reason for me to put someone else through the same things I'd been through in the past two months.