Memoirs of a Girl Wolf (6 page)

“Kristen,” I called. Despite freaking out, I tried to keep my voice steady.

When there was no reply, I called for her again, but still my calls were unanswered. Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I placed my bare feet on the wooden floor, and slowly I stood being careful not to put a lot of pressure on my leg, but I found that my leg was working fine.

I walked out of my room. From down the hall, I could hear my brothers in their room. I followed their laughter until I came to a stop outside of their bedroom. They were sitting on top of a striped, oval rug playing Phase 10.

“Where’s Kristen?” I asked them.

They looked up at me briefly then went back to their game. “Were hungry,” Eric said.

“You just had breakfast,” I replied.

“That was hours ago,” Josh said.

I glanced at the digital clock on a stand next to the bunk beds in the room. It was one in the afternoon.

“Oh, I’ll make you something,” I said. Before turning from the room, however, I said, “Wait, where’s Kristen.”

“She left,” Eric said.

“Hours ago,” Josh added.

I frowned. Why would she leave, especially when I was wounded? Well, I guess I was okay, but she didn’t know that. Before I went back to sleep, didn’t we agree I should go to the hospital?

I walked down the stairs and as I did, I forgot about Kristen completely. The living room was a mess. I thought Kristen had mentioned people straightened up after the party, but if they did then I’m glad I was mortally wounded and couldn’t see the state it was in because it still looked like a wreck.

There were spills on the floor, pizza boxes on the coffee table, the couch was moved back, one pillow was torn in half, a lamp was knocked over and then as I got to the kitchen it was worse: the trash was over flowing, dishes in the sink, and trash on the counter. Left over from this morning, were half eaten pancakes on round plates pooled in syrup on the kitchen table.

The phone rang. I lunged at it and answered.

“Kristen?” I asked.

“No, it’s Mom.”

“Hi, Mom,” I said, deflating a little.

“Well, gee I miss you too,” she said.

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in and let you know that I’m on my way home.”

“You are?” I said, wearily, as I stared at the garbage surrounding the full trash can.

“Yup, just passing through Lansing so you have about three hours to clean up after your party,” Mom laughed.

“Oh,” I said.

“I’m just kidding. I know you were responsible. See you soon, okay. Tell the boys we’ll go out for Chinese tonight, love you,” Mom said then hung up the phone.

I set the phone on the counter and mentally screamed. My brothers were hungry, my friend left me, the house was a mess, and I had gone through a crazy ordeal in the past day that I didn’t have time to sit down and process.

I ran back through the living room to the foot of the stairs and yelled up at my brothers. They appeared, holding their cards, at the top of the stairs, looking down at me with annoyed expressions.

“You have to help me clean,” I said.

“No way,” Josh said.

“It was your party,” Eric added.

“I know, but please. Mom’s gonna be home soon and I owe you guys, please,” I folded my hands under my chin and frowned up at them.

They looked at one another.

“We’re hungry,” they said.

“Okay, okay. Start cleaning and I will make some Mac and Cheese,” I said.

“The spiral kind?” Eric asked.

“You bet,” I replied.

They dropped their cards to the floor and trudged down the stairs. Relieved, I hugged both of them in my arms and then ran back to the kitchen to start boiling water for our lunch. They followed me into the kitchen, and after setting a pot of water on the stove, I handed them each a white garbage bag, and instructed them to start filling up the bags with trash which neither was pleased about, but I made it a competition and whoever was able to collect the most trash got a prize.

“What’s the prize?” Eric asked, skeptical.

“I will let you pick my birthday cake,” I said. My birthday was a week away and this seemed to be agreeable to them because they ran from me and started filling their bags with everything in sight. They grew so competitive that a couple times I had to remove non-trash items from their bags.

I moved quickly around the kitchen multitasking: tending to the water on the stove, soaking and scrubbing the stack of dishes, and cleaning off the counter. Pretty soon I forgot about my leg entirely. For the time being.

After we ate a quick of lunch of Macaroni, I found Kristen’s note to me which she had left on the kitchen table next to the open box of bisquick.

Sydney called and wanted to go shopping for school in Traverse City. I’ll be back tonight.

Love, me

              Rolling my eyes, I crumpled the note and tossed it in a garbage bag. I was more than annoyed. I was mad and starting to feel light headed as I trembled and my eyesight went in and out of focus, which was weird because I’m not one to be that influenced by anger, but Kristen’s note was . . . unlike her. I was disappointed.

              After how horrific last night was, how could my best friend abandon me? I didn’t even want to have the party. I was feeling pretty alone as I stood in the kitchen, but lifting my head I saw my brothers fast at work in the living room as they stacked the empty pizza boxes and carried them to garbage outside, and straightened the lamp up right, and vacuumed up the loose stuffing from the torn pillow that had to be tossed out with the five bags of garbage we had collected.

              At least they helped me, but they were right. It wasn’t their responsibility to clean up after me and I felt like a pretty lousy sister. I promised myself, that once sixteen, I would make it up to them by taking them out to burgers and a movie just the three of us.

              Josh came into the kitchen as I was mopping the floor, the last thing I had to do before the house was back to its normal state.

              “We’ve got neighbors,” he said.

              “Huh?” I asked, raising my head.

              “There’s people moving in across the water,” he said, pointing behind him just as Eric walked in through the front door.

              “No, that house is run down. Like really run down,” I said, and then shivered as I thought about the night before.

              “There’s a bunch of people working on it,” Eric said as he joined us in the kitchen.

              I looked at my little brothers who were identical in features with round brown eyes set apart by a flat nose. They didn’t have red hair like me. Their hair was a thin, blonde shade the color of straw, like Moms and they liked to keep their hair buzzed in the summer and long in the winter. Right now their hair was buzzed and it made their oblong, freckled faces look longer. Their voices were beginning to crack which embarrassed them, and they were still a little chubby but their limbs were growing quickly. Mom often said they’d be taller than me by next summer.

              They looked at me now with raised eyebrows so blonde they weren’t detectable, and waited for my reaction as they swung their arms back and forth and moved their little pink mouth from side to side.

              “Alright, show me,” I said, setting the mop against the counter.

              They each grabbed one of my hands and led me down the hall into Mom’s room and up to the French doors. We opened them and stepped onto the back deck.

              “See?” they said, pointing to the house across from us.

              Sure enough there were two pick-up trucks one white and the other red, parked beside the house. A group of men were working on the house.

              A man was on the roof nailing shingles, and another person was on the ground yelling up to the man on the roof and another man walked around the house a couple times. I held my breath as he came to a stop in the back in front of the door we had kicked in the night before and opened to get in and out of the basement.

              Men disappeared in and out of the house carrying planks of wood, tools, beams, etc.

              “They’re fixing it up,” I said in disbelief.

              “Duh,” Josh said.

              I turned and playfully punched my brother in the shoulder for making fun of me. We laughed until we heard Mom behind us say, “Don’t hit your brother.”

              Josh and Eric ran over and hugged Mom while I waited my turn. She told them to run inside and get ready to go eat.

              “You should probably change out of that,” she said placing her arms around me into a hug.

              I blushed. I forgot I was still in my green nightgown.

              “The house looks great,” she said. “Did I give you plenty of warning?”
              “Look,” I nodded toward the house.

              Mom was silent for a couple minutes. I couldn’t read her reaction.

              “Well, it’s about time someone moved in there. I guess,” she said and walked back through the French doors into the house.

              I turned and followed her.

              She began to unpack from an open leather suitcase at the end of her bed.

              “Was your party fun?” she asked.

              I looked down at my leg. “It was interesting,” I said.

              “I want to hear about it over dinner. Go get changed,” she said.

              I nodded and began to leave, but she called me back. Walking up to me, she handed me a black glass box. I opened it and found tea leaves inside. A sweet spice smell overwhelmed my senses and tickled my nose.

              “Tea, for you,” she said.

              Mom always brought back tea from her trips. I didn’t even really like tea, but no matter how many times I told her this she still always returned with a new type of tea for us to try.

              “Thanks,” I mumbled.

              “We’ll try some tonight—after dinner,” Mom said, nodding then returned to her suit case.

              I left her room and set the glass box of tea on the kitchen counter before running up the stairs to change. Once in my room, I spied my bloody, ripped jeans.  I figured I’d better hurry up and get rid of them before mom saw them and started asking questions. I didn’t know how to explain them or anything that happened last night for that matter with no wounds to prove of an attack.

              I ripped them up some more and shoved the pieces of denim in a sack when I remembered the black and white photo in the back pocket of the jeans. Thankfully, it was still there folded and secure in the pocket. I pulled it out and unfolded it, examining the pregnant woman with the warm smile, until I heard Mom coming up the stairs to tell us to hurry up. I grabbed the nearest book to me and tucked the photo, safely, in between its pages.

6

A few days later, the annoying beeping of the alarm clock beside my bed interrupted my sleep. It was Monday. The first day of school of my sophomore year. All summer I looked forward to going back to school, but now I wanted to pull my covers over my head and stay in the comfort of my bed enclosed in my room forever.

It had only been a few days since my disastrous party, and I was avoiding everybody even Kristen. I was still kind of upset with her for ditching me in favor of going to the mall in Traverse City with Sydney and other cheerleaders. For the first time, in our years of friendship, ignored her texts and calls.

I remained clueless about how people felt about my party since I hadn’t bothered to go back in town. A few people texted me to see if I was okay and I was. I felt fine, great even, but I feared the social repercussions of a failed party, so I secluded myself to my house.

The last couple days of summer were spent sitting in a lawn chair on the back deck watching the  house across from mine go from an eye sore to a charming little home although it still had a bit to go before it looked safe enough to be lived in.

As for my leg, I decided the wound probably wasn’t that bad to begin with—that was the only way I could explain why it looked so  . . . normal. Kristen probably exaggerated the injury, and it’s possible the blood that stained my clothes wasn’t even mine. I think I remember at one point picking up a rock and using it to hit whatever was on top of me, so the blood could’ve belonged to the mysterious animal.

I was still a little shaken up from the attack, though. Being startled easily, was one lasting effect and another was an occurring nightmare of rabid dogs chewing on my legs.

The alarm went off again.

Mom knocked on my door and opened it slowly. I groaned as the sharp light from the hallway shined on my face.

“Time to get up sleeping beauty,” Mom said in a soft voice.

“Coffee,” I mumbled.

“It’s waiting for you,” Mom said before disappearing down the hall to wake my brothers.

An hour and a cup of coffee later, I was ready for my first day. Mom and the twins waited for me in Toyota as I slipped my feet into black TOMS, and left the house, closing and locking the heavy wooden door. Eric rolled down the window of the car and called at me to hurry up. Breathing in a gulp of fresh air, instantly made me feel better and my mind clearer. I jumped off the front stoop and ran toward the car, but just as I was about to get into the passenger seat Kristen’s yellow Volkswagen came into view.