High Heels and Lipstick (16 page)

“Shit.” I hadn't forgotten that Mom had insisted on friending me. I'd just assumed she didn't pay attention to what was posted, since she never mentioned anything.

“Yeah, that's one way to put it.” Marcus drove into our driveway. Mom's car was in the open garage, but Dad's was gone. “Plus that other girl tried to kill herself, and Gina got suspended for something she did to you that Mom won't actually tell me about. They're afraid you're going to either hurt yourself or be hurt by someone else.”

“I'm not going to do anything that stupid.” I rolled my eyes. I understood why people would worry. Maryellen had tried to kill herself, and she and I had the same stuff going on in our lives. But even though I'd thought about it, I'd never tried anything like that and didn't plan to.

I didn't bother telling Marcus I thought Maryellen was stupid for what she'd done. Even if Maryellen hated me, I didn't want to be harsh when it came to her. I completely got how she must have been feeling to do something so extreme, and I didn't blame her for what she'd done. It just hadn't been a way to solve anything.

“Yeah, you're too frigging stubborn for that, I think.” He shut off the car and stuck the keys in his jacket pocket. “I promised the parents I'd stick around here for a while.”

“What about your plans?” The last thing I needed was a babysitter, especially one who would resent me for messing up his Saturday night.

“You're more important than clubbing.” He glared at me. “You actually think I'm going to be like, okay, you're home, have fun being alone?”

“No, but I think you wanted to go out and have fun, not babysit your kid sister who's too old to need babysitting.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let's go in and argue there. It's getting too cold out here.”

There was no point in telling him I didn't need him around. He still officially lived there anyway, so I couldn't exactly tell him not to go in. I followed him through the back door and into the kitchen, where he turned on lights and opened the fridge. “Damn. Mom forgot to do the shopping again?”

“She bought some stuff. People must have eaten it already.”

“I know you don't need a babysitter.” He closed the fridge and opened one of the cupboards. “You do need someone to talk to, though. Mom's mostly worried because you don't tell her anything. You don't tell her about the posts online. I know how high school works, and I'm pretty sure there are some nasty things going on there that you also haven't told her about.”

“Why am I going to make her worry even more?” I sat at the island. The Chinese food I'd eaten with Holly, which had stayed in my stomach pretty well so far, started rebelling. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth the way Kendra had taught me. She claimed it helped with nausea and anxiety. It didn't really, but it was better than doing nothing.

“She worries when she doesn't know what's going on,” Marcus said. “When she has a clue, she can go into problem-solving mode, and then she doesn't worry as much.”

“Because that makes sense.” I was being sarcastic, but that was usually Mom's way of coping with things. Having a specific problem to think about made her feel like she was in control.

“It doesn't have to make sense. It's the way Mom is.” He closed the cupboard. “There is not a damn thing in this house that I want to eat. I'm going to order pizza. You want anything?”

“I ate at Holly's.”

He studied me. “You did?”

“Chinese. You want the whole menu?” Of course he didn't believe me. If Mom and Dad had been telling him they were worried, he wouldn't believe anything I said about food.

“No, I don't need the menu.” He took out his cell and called in his order to the usual takeout place.

I wanted to go to my room, but I had the feeling Marcus wouldn't be too happy about it. He was supposed to keep an eye on me, after all. That probably meant having me in sight. Maybe it wouldn't matter. He seemed as annoyed about this as I was. But I didn't want to take a chance on getting into an argument with him, so I just went into the living room and sat on the couch.

T
HE
REST
of the weekend was completely typical—in other words, boring. Sunday afternoon, I dared to log into my social media accounts. Naturally I found some of the “slut” messages, but I also had messages and wall posts congratulating me because Jim had pled guilty. And one from Brittany thanking me for visiting Maryellen.

I wasn't naïve enough to think people would stop harassing me now, but at least it looked as though I had some support.

Monday morning, I managed to eat a piece of toast and drink some orange juice before I left. Mom beamed at me like I'd won the Nobel Prize or something. I ignored it the way I'd ignored Marcus most of Saturday night.

Holly and I hadn't talked since Saturday, and I'd had time to decide I shouldn't have kissed her. With guys, I didn't have to talk about feelings and stuff, but with Holly I probably should have. More than that, I should have made sure it was okay to kiss her. I hadn't forced her or anything like that, but I'd made one hell of an assumption.

Then again, it wasn't as if I'd made out with her. I'd barely even touched her lips. And she hadn't acted like she minded. She hadn't really said much of anything except she needed time to think.

I could stop hanging out with her if things were too awkward, but I really didn't want to. She was the closest friend I had now, and if I lost her, I wouldn't have anyone to talk to. That would really suck.

Holly, Evan, and Nathan were sitting in the donut shop when I walked in. I got my usual coffee and decided to try a donut along with it. I wasn't exactly hungry after the toast and OJ, but even though I was nervous about seeing Holly, my stomach felt like it would cooperate with more food.

Holly was next to Evan, so I sat beside Nathan. He smelled like too much cologne. Evan had changed his hair color again, this time to a random mix of green and purple, and he wore a purple shirt with a green scarf.

Holly was wearing one of the shirts I'd given her under her usual clunky winter coat. I couldn't help smiling. “You look good.”

“Thanks.” She gave me a little smile and took a sip of whatever she was drinking.

I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or trying to downplay my compliment. Either way, it sucked. I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to be uncomfortable either, but I'd kind of gotten used to feeling that way.

“So the worm turned, huh?” Evan said.

“What?” I blinked at him. He often didn't make a whole lot of sense. It was actually one of the things I liked about him. He kept my brain working.

“Gina,” he said. “During Homecoming week she was your partner in crime, and now she's turned against you. People suck.”

“Oh.” I'd mostly stopped thinking about Gina. There wasn't any point now that our friendship was totally over. I kind of suspected Mom and Jane's was as well, though Mom tended to be a lot more forgiving than I was.

“People are always going to suck,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, so why are we acting like this is news?” Holly glared at Nathan.

“I didn't bring it up,” he protested.

“I enjoy thinking about the fact that some people suck. It soothes me.” Evan grinned at me. “Sorry, Chastaine. I'll be more than happy to change the subject.”

“It isn't bothering me. I don't care about her.” I was pretty sure I meant it. “They found out she did it. She got suspended, and who knows what the police did? She vandalized school property, and she was bullying Maryellen and me, so I'm pretty sure something happened to her. Not my problem.”

“Where's Guillermo?” Holly asked.

I looked at her. She looked out the window. I didn't know if she was uncomfortable with me or the topic, but either way, she clearly didn't want to talk about Gina anymore.

Guillermo showed up a few minutes later, and Nathan and I squeezed over to make room for him to sit across from Evan. The conversation turned to sports and the one-act play the drama club was preparing. I had no chance to talk to Holly about the kiss or anything else. Even when we walked from the shop to school, the guys kept chatting, and Holly walked beside Evan instead of me.

Something was different about school that day. I didn't catch on to it until third block. No one was talking to me or whispering when I walked down the hall. I was wearing my usual type of outfit, tight skinny jeans and a low-cut shirt with the highest heels I could manage to walk in with all the slush and ice on the sidewalks. No one commented on it.

I almost felt like I didn't exist. I couldn't decide whether that was better or worse than being talked about and insulted.

By fourth block, I felt kind of paranoid, and it was a day when I didn't have lunch with any of my current friends. I sat at a table by myself and poked at the hamburger and carrot sticks I'd chosen. I wasn't hungry, partly thanks to my donut and partly because I couldn't stop wondering what the hell was going on. Even when people were blaming me and getting on my case about turning Jim in, they had at least acknowledged my existence. Today, I felt like they were shunning me or something, and I didn't really know how to deal with it.

About halfway through lunch period, El-Al and her friend Tracie joined me. In the past, I would have called Tracie my friend, but we'd never actually been close. We'd just gone to the same parties and were part of the same crowd.

They sat on either side of me, since we were at a round table, and didn't say a word. Usually I wouldn't have cared, but after everyone else not saying a word to me all day, I couldn't take the silence.

“Do you want something, or am I a zoo exhibit?” I said, trying for the Chastaine bravado I'd lost lately.

“People have been shitty to you,” El-Al said.

“Brilliant news flash. Why do you feel the need to bring it to my attention?” I poked at my carrots again. I hadn't actually managed to eat anything, but I was trying to make it look as if I had.

“They shouldn't have been,” Tracie said. “It's one thing for them to call you slut. I mean, that isn't cool, but you've always kind of encouraged it.”

“Yeah, because I'm not ashamed of liking sex. It isn't a bad thing.” I didn't care what Tracie thought of that statement. El-Al had heard me say it before.

“Right, but it's different when they're saying it because someone hurt you and they don't believe it happened.” Tracie hesitated. “I came over here to tell you I said a couple of things online to you. I wish I hadn't. I'm sorry.”

I could have flipped out on her. I should have been really pissed. But I didn't care enough anymore to even react. She was one of many who'd said crappy things. Losing my temper at her wouldn't do anything about all the others.

“Why'd you do it?” I asked. “Did you figure it was okay because I'm just a lying whore, like some of the others said?”

“I don't know what the hell I was thinking.” She bit her lip. “Actually, I kind of do, and it sounds really awful. I was thinking at least they weren't saying it to me. Something like that happened to me a couple years ago, before we moved here. I never told anyone. Seeing the way they all treated you, I was glad I didn't say anything.”

I never would have guessed Tracie had gone through the same kind of thing as me. She covered it well.

Then again, so did I, or at least I had until Guillermo had figured it out.

“That sucks,” I said.

“I was partying,” she said. “He was cute. I figured we could make out and I'd have something to brag about, but he didn't want to stop at making out. I never saw him again after that, so I kind of made myself forget.”

“I know how that is.” I looked at El-Al. “Are you her moral support?”

“I'm your friend. I think.” She looked uncertain. “I'd like to be your friend again. I know I've severely sucked at it lately, but you didn't deserve any of this. And hearing about Maryellen…. That could have been you.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, I don't know why I told you that,” Tracie said. “I guess I just wanted to say I was wrong to do that to you. People could have said the same things against me, and I was stupid to try to make myself feel better by making you feel bad. I don't even know why I did it.”

“Same reason as everyone else, probably.” I thought about what she'd told me. I wasn't going to be all happy-huggy forgiveness, even though that was probably what she hoped for. I understood why she'd made comments to me, though I didn't remember what any of those comments had been. I didn't even remember seeing her post anything on my wall or send me any messages, so if she'd done it, I'd either blocked it out or she had posted anonymously. But that didn't mean I was okay with finding out about it. I wasn't angry, but I was definitely not happy.