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Authors: Sharon M. Draper

Panic (23 page)

BOOK: Panic
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Diamond lay against stark white sheets, her hair loose on the pillow, her face looking small and hollow, with red,
welted cuts and scratches across her brow and cheeks. Her wrists were wrapped in thick white gauze, and other smaller bandages dotted her upper arms and her neck. An IV ran into her left arm, tubes snaking up under the blue hospital gown to a couple of bags that dripped clear liquids. Another machine above her bed beeped softly. Her eyes were closed.

Her mother sat in a chair next to her, leaning over the bed and holding Diamond's right hand as if she would never let it go again.

“Hey, girls,” Mrs. Landers whispered. “Our Diamond came back to us.” She was biting her lips, as if to keep from crying.

Mercedes felt small and scared, like she was six instead of sixteen. Her hands were sweaty, and her mouth felt dry—she wasn't sure if coherent words would even come out of her mouth. But she managed to choke out, “Is she gonna be, like, okay?”

Diamond opened her eyes then and smiled at them. “Yep. I'm gonna be, like, okay.” She sounded a little raspy, but it was beyond great to hear her voice.

Mercedes tried not to cry, but she couldn't help it. “We were so scared, so worried,” she burbled. “I'm so sorry.”

Diamond untangled her right hand from her mother's and touched Mercedes' arm. “Look, girlfriend, what happened is nobody's fault but mine. I can't believe how stupid I was.” Her voice got even raspier. “Actually, all of the blame lies directly on that . . . that monster who took me.” She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and gripped Mercedes' sweaty hand.

Mercedes tried to imagine what Diamond had gone through, but she just couldn't. All she knew was she had to make Diamond know she was safe forever—with real friends.

“You must be
so
glad to be home,” Layla ventured after a moment.

“Yeah, like you wouldn't believe.”

“Looks like you got a few, um, scratches there,” Mercedes said, not trying to pry, but not wanting to ignore them either.

“Just a few bumps and bruises,” Diamond answered. “And I'm starving. That stuff will heal quickly. The rest”—she paused, looking away—“is going to take some time.” She let go of Mercedes and reached for her mother.

“You had folks praying for you at church—even at school!” Mercedes said, trying to fill in the awkward silence. “We had a candlelight vigil. It was awesome.”

“Wish I coulda seen it,” Diamond said with a small smile. “Looks like those prayers worked.”

“Where's Shasta?” Mercedes asked.

“My dad just took her home to get some rest. She'd been here since I got here last night. She and my mom have been fighting over who gets to hold my hand.”

“Shasta's a brave little cookie.”

“She told me she redecorated her room in black Magic Marker,” Diamond said with a laugh. “I promised I'll help her repaint it when I get home.” Then she added, “Hey, isn't there school today? How did you two get off?”

Mercedes laughed quietly, as if she were afraid to act too cheerful. “You were our excuse,” she explained. “Way
too much stress to concentrate on Spanish or biology.”

“I feel you.” She turned to Layla. “How's Donny?”

Layla caught Mercedes' eye for a moment, then said, “Uh, we split up. Permanently. It's a long, really ugly story.”

Diamond's eyes filled with sympathy. “I understand ugly. One day we'll have to talk about it.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You and Steve still tight?” Diamond asked Mercedes.

Mercedes couldn't help but smile. “We're good. He still sends me a text every single morning. Sometimes he sends me a song.”

“That's great. I need to wrap myself up in as much happy as I can find from now on.”

“We can help you there! Let's see,” Layla said. “It's finally stopped raining. There's a sale on shoes at Macy's. I'm getting a B in Spanish. How's that for a bit of happy?”

“I got more,” Diamond said. “Guess what? I've got a dog!”

“A welcome-home present?” Mercedes asked.

“No. She belonged to, uh, the man who took me.” She paused to collect herself. “But Bella—that's the dog—she's an Irish setter—stayed with me every afternoon; she's the only thing that kept me from losing my mind. I think she even helped me when I was running away.”

“So how did you get her home?” Layla asked.

“Well, the life squad and Daddy and Mom got to the place where I'd been held about the same time. I was halfway hysterical, but I made Daddy put her in our car before they took me away.”

“So where is she now?”

“She waited patiently in the car the whole time the doctors were taking care of me. Daddy and Shasta took her home. That dog helped save my life. I couldn't leave her alone in the rain.”

“That's incredible,” Layla said.

“You say her name is Bella?” Mercedes asked.

“For now. But I think I'm going to change it to Pixie or Tutu or something. I'm gonna let Shasta help me.”

Miss Ginger burst into the room then, her hair a mess as usual, a bouquet of pansies and daisies in her hand. “Oh, Diamond! Oh, Diamond!” was all she could say. Mercedes could tell she was having trouble holding back her tears.

“Hey, Miss G.”

“It's so wonderful to see you—so, so wonderful! We were all so worried and frightened.”

“I think I'm gonna be fine, Miss G. And my dance training even kicked in while I was running in the woods,” Diamond said proudly. “You shoulda seen the ditch I leaped over. Best grand jeté ever! I guess I have you to thank for all that practice.”

“You don't know how good that makes me feel. I'm gonna work everybody a little harder tonight, in your honor,” she said in a half-teasing voice.

“Thanks so much for coming,” Mrs. Landers said to Miss Ginger. “This means the world to her.”

“You couldn't have kept me away,” Miss Ginger replied, turning to Diamond's mother. “I know you're exhausted. Try to get some rest now that she's back.”

“I'll sleep soundly tonight, that's for sure,” Mrs. Landers answered.

Miss Ginger turned to Layla and said with eyebrows raised, “Skipping school again, Miss Layla?”

“I promise, never again, Miss G.,” Layla said earnestly. “But I just had to see Diamond.”

“I understand that. I canceled my class of senior citizens who take tango lessons, so we're even. But you get your butt back in class on Monday.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Layla said. “I promise.”

Miss Ginger looked at Layla with steely eyes. “And did you resolve that problem we talked about?”

Layla returned her teacher's gaze. “Absolutely. It is over, and I am taking charge of
me
for a change.”

“Excellent!” Turning to Mercedes, Miss Ginger said, “I expect you both in class tonight—on time. We'll have a wonderful celebration at the studio.”

“What's been going on at the studio?” Diamond asked.

“We've started practicing for
Peter Pan,
but you take your time and come back whenever you feel you're ready. A part in the show will be waiting for you if you want it.”

“Thanks, Miss Ginger,” Diamond whispered.

“We did a sort of ‘Dance for Diamond' session a couple of days ago,” Mercedes told her. “Everybody sorta danced what they felt. It was stupid fresh.”

“It was powerful dance therapy,” Miss Ginger explained. “And it was Zizi's idea!”

“I did a pas de deux with Justin,” Layla said with a mischievous smile. “It was fun. I guess that's another piece of happy!”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Talk about dance therapy! The dude is crazy for Layla, and she's, like, clueless!”

“I'm starting to get it,” Layla admitted with a smirk.

Miss Ginger gave Layla a big hug. Then she leaned over and told Diamond, “There is nothing stronger than a diamond, my dear. Welcome home.” She gave Diamond a quick kiss on the cheek and breezed out of the room.

“I missed Miss Ginger,” Diamond admitted. “I missed all of you. I dreamed of dancing while I was locked in that room.” She looked away, toward the window.

“When do you think you'll come back to school or dance class?” Layla asked.

“Not for a while,” Diamond's mother replied. “We want to give her time to heal physically as well as emotionally. Plus, she needs time to eat piles and piles of her mama's turkey and gravy.”

“And ice cream,” Diamond said. “I want a gallon of butter pecan ice cream.”

“We shoulda brought you some,” Mercedes said. “But we didn't know how you'd, uh, be . . . ”

“It's okay,” Diamond said, filling in the empty air. “You know, I never woulda thought that I'd want to cuddle with my mother all day. But that's where I am.”

Her mom reached over and smoothed Diamond's hair.

“Hey, I didn't tell you—my dad came home,” Layla said.

“Oh, that's awesome,” Diamond said. “You two probably have lots of catching up to do.”

“Yeah. It's not all pretty, but I guess we'll survive.”

“You know, it's gonna take me a year just to recuperate
from the millions of questions the police asked me,” Diamond said, closing her eyes once more. “Over and over—the same questions.”

“Did they catch the guy?” Mercedes asked, wondering how she hadn't thought to ask that yet.

“Oh, yeah. He was pretty busted up—I know he at least had a broken leg and a bloody arm—and one of the policemen told me he was taken to a hospital in handcuffs.”

“Not this one?” Layla asked, looking around nervously.

“That was one of the first things I asked!” Diamond replied. “He's way across town. On his way to prison.”

“Will you have to go to court to testify?” Mercedes asked.

“Yeah, eventually. These things take a while, the cops said, but probably so. I'm not afraid to face him. I intend to tell every nasty little detail of what he did to me.” She narrowed her eyes. “I want him in jail for the rest of his life, so that no other girl will have to go through what I did.”

“I don't think I could have made it,” Mercedes admitted, taking up Diamond's hand again.

“Yeah, you would have. I guess you just do what you have to do,” Diamond said. “He's done this before, can you believe it? In other cities.” She paused. “There are videotapes on the Internet. Of
everything
he's done,” she added slowly.

“I'll be right there by your side, Diamond,” Mercedes exclaimed as she figured out exactly what Diamond meant.

“We all will,” Layla said. “Especially me. I'll tell you all about my little adventures while you were gone when you're stronger.”

Mrs. Landers stood up and began tucking the blanket more tightly around Diamond. “Thank you girls for coming, but I want Diamond to get her rest now. You can come back and visit when she comes home, okay?”

Mercedes and Layla each gave Diamond a hug, whispered their good-byes, and left the room.

Halfway down the hall, Mercedes leaned against a wall and eased down to the polished floor, collapsing in huge gulps of tears. Layla sat beside her and cried just as hard.

42
DIAMOND,
Three Weeks Later Saturday, May 11 2 p.m.

“This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.”

—from
Peter Pan

Diamond opened the door to the Crystal Pointe Dance Academy, walked into the main dance room, and inhaled deeply. It smelled of cocoa and costumes, of perspiration and popcorn, of happiness and hope.
Happy smells a lot like leftover sweat,
she thought with a smile. The room was silent, and Diamond stood very still. She could
feel
the music she'd missed, as if the rhythms hovered just beyond her ability to recall. She visualized every single
movement, leap, and twist, every single chorus and lyric and song. She felt a little trembly.

Miss Ginger touched her arm gently, and Diamond, startled, jumped.

“I didn't mean to frighten you,” Miss Ginger said gently.

“I was just remembering the music,” Diamond explained. “Remembering everything.”

“Take your time. Walk around. Let all the good memories come back slowly,” Miss Ginger told her.

“I love this place,” Diamond said, breathing deeply once more. “The dance posters, the sheer curtains in the windows, that ridiculously beautiful chandelier. It's like coming home.”

“You know what they say—home is where you feel loved,” Miss Ginger replied with a knowing nod.

Diamond dropped her dance bag to the floor and looked around, as if seeing the place for the first time. The lumpy spot on the marley floor. The small crack in the far right mirror. The red paint spots that had dripped on the white wall last summer during a fix-up party. The ballet barres, well worn in the middle. The costumes on display upstairs. The trophies, dusty in the display case.

“Thanks for letting me come in alone, Miss Ginger,” Diamond said finally. “I don't think I'm ready to face the whole group yet.”

“I understand completely,” Miss Ginger said.

“I danced in my head a lot while I was, uh, gone,” Diamond said.

“Did it help?”

“Yeah. Helped keep me from going crazy, I guess,” Diamond admitted.

“Are you ready to hear some music?” Miss Ginger asked.

“In a minute. Can I ask you something first?” Diamond took off her tennis shoes and slid the familiar pointe shoes onto her feet.

“Sure.”

“Do you think I'll ever be normal again?”

Miss Ginger took a moment before answering. “Nothing will ever be exactly the same,” she said finally, honestly. “But maybe normal is not the word you're looking for. You're a gifted dancer. You're a loving daughter and sister. You're an outstanding student. Why lower your standards to just plain normal?”

BOOK: Panic
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