Wishing Pearl (10 page)

Those poor stores. Olivia swung her legs over. No point arguing with Mom when she had her mind set on something, especially when it involved shopping. Might as well go along with it. Besides, new clothes never hurt anyone. She shuffled to the bathroom and stepped into the double shower as big as some bathrooms she’d been in. Maybe the water would wash away her headache. She adjusted the spray nozzle to pulsate and let the hot water beat at the back of her neck until steam filled the room.

“Where are we shopping?” Olivia called from the shower, positive her mom was still puttering around her room.

“We’re going into Chicago. Shopping for the good stuff on Mag Mile.” Mom’s voice escalated in excitement as she listed off the top designers they’d descend upon this afternoon.

Didn’t she know no one actually called it
Mag Mile
except tourists and television reporters? Olivia finished her shower and toweled off. Completely ignoring the outfit her mom had hung on the dressing bar in her closet, Olivia riffled through her racks of clothes to pick out something her mother would hate …
best buds
or not.

Frayed denim miniskirt, black tights, thigh-high boots—Mom might not like the outfit, but she’d never complain about Chanel boots—and a tight black shirt, which she pulled down to expose her shoulders and the straps of her purple cami.

Perfect
.

Olivia blow-dried her hair and even added some touch-up color to her purple streak with the mascara-type wand the hairdresser had given her. Extra-heavy dark eyeliner and sparkly eye shadow. A dozen narrow silver bracelets tinkling on each forearm. Three pairs of earrings and a cuff around the top of her ear. Ready. Oops. She almost forgot. After a minute of rummaging through her jewelry drawers, Olivia found it. A fake lip ring.

Olivia walked into the bedroom as Mom finished organizing the bookcase. She turned around and managed to not even blink an eye at Olivia’s appearance.

“Great! You’re ready.” Mom smiled as she inspected Olivia’s outfit. “You look cool.”

Olivia pasted on a grin, trying to hide her disgust. Daddy never would have let her out of the house like that, but her new BFF thought she looked
cool
? Whatever. Wonder what Mom would think if Olivia lit up a cigarette. She’d have to try that later.

Arms laden with packages, Olivia struggled up the stairs to her room. She might be the only teenager ever brought home by a cop and then rewarded for it with an extravagant shopping trip the very next day. About to drop it all, she set everything down in the hallway outside her room so she could open the door. She barely touched it, yet it swung wide open.
Huh?

Olivia crept into her room, leaving the packages where they sat. She didn’t sense anyone in the room, but Charles could be hiding anywhere. What was he up to? Olivia glanced back toward the hallway, and something caught her eye. Her lock dangled from the chain with splinters of wooden door still attached. Her eyes moved to the door handle. The brand-new knob dangled from its hole on both the inside and outside of the door. Useless.
Someone
had twisted it until it broke—just like the last one he’d destroyed.

That’s it!

Olivia stormed down the stairs into the kitchen, where Mom stood opening Chinese take-out containers. Charles sat in the breakfast nook, waiting to be served, no doubt, with a full glass of wine in front of him. Olivia searched the countertops and saw an open bottle on the service bar still three-fourths full. So he hadn’t had much to drink yet. Perfect timing.

She took a deep breath and stared her mom down, ignoring Charles. “We have to talk. Now.”

Mom opened her mouth and shot a look toward Charles, who sat back watching the scene unfold with a smug look on his face. He’d gotten to Olivia, and from the looks of things, he knew it … and enjoyed it.

Olivia held up a hand. “No, Mom. Don’t brush me off this time. I’m serious. If you don’t want to talk, don’t. But I’m not leaving until I’m heard.” Even saying that much felt good to Olivia. But where to start? “First of all … he”—Olivia tipped her head back toward where Charles sat behind her—”ripped the locks off my door. Where does he get off doing something like that again?” She didn’t look back to see Charles’s reaction.

Mom shot a panicked look at Charles and went to stand right in front of him, forcing Olivia to look in his direction like she always did. Always trying to force peace between them.

Mom shook her head. “No, Olivia, don’t overreact. He told me about this. He doesn’t want you to lock your doors. What with the cigarettes, the pot, the alcohol, and the cops. He only wants to monitor what’s going on a little better.”

Charles sneered and winked at Olivia from behind Mom’s back. So much for leaving her alone—Olivia had known that wouldn’t last.

“Mom!” Olivia pointed at him. “He’s taunting me, and he even winked at me.”

By the time Mom whipped her head around to look at him, Charles was the perfect picture of a thoughtful and concerned parent.

“He’s not taunting you, Livvie. He’s understandably upset with all that’s happened.”

“Okay. Well, then why did he have to rip the locks off the wall and destroy my door?”

“Honestly, Liv, it’s not your door.” Mom would defend him until her dying day, apparently. Which just might happen.

“Fine. But there’s more.” Olivia looked at the floor, wishing it would swallow her whole. “This is hard to say.” She lifted her eyes to her mom’s. Just beyond Mom’s body, the camera of Olivia’s brain zeroed in, and Charles’s face came into sharp focus.

His face held no rage. No hate. No lust. His face promised pure threat. He wasn’t
trying
to scare her with the dark glint in his eyes and the firm set to his jaw. It was simply fact. Then he mouthed three words. Words she knew she’d never forget. Words that chilled her to the bone.
I. Dare. You
.

In the next instant, Charles’s face turned kind and loving as he reached forward for his wife’s hand. He tugged on it until she stepped backward. He pulled her to his lap. “What is it, Olivia?” His voice sounded concerned.

Olivia gave up. She might as well not even fight him anymore. There was no point.
He wins
. Mom would never let Olivia get the truth out, and even if she did, she wouldn’t believe her. Charles promised new levels of revenge if she spilled the truth. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Charles had won yet again.

Time to backpedal. “Look, it’s just … I don’t think it’s right for a teenage girl not to have a lock on her door. What would it take to get it back?”

Charles helped Mom stand up then stood and walked to Olivia. He took her hands.

Olivia cringed at his clammy touch.

Clueless Mom smiled at her loving family.

“Liv, if I’ve made my point well enough, I’ll fix the lock. Not the chain lock, only the doorknob. It’s not safe to chain yourself into a room.”

“You know, that’s true, babe.” Mom nodded at Charles and then turned to Olivia. “I’ve heard stories about people being trapped in a fire because of those chains on doors.”

Oh yeah? Like when, Mom? What stories?
Didn’t really matter anyway. It wouldn’t have kept him out if he’d wanted in. “Okay. When will you fix it?”

“Is tomorrow soon enough?” The edge had returned to his voice, daring her to push him.

“Sure. Thank you.” Olivia turned away and shuffled up the stairs. What had she done to deserve this? She’d been a good girl—until lately. But she’d never hurt anyone. She had prayed as a little girl. Daddy prayed. Even Mom prayed. But their prayers never got answered. On second thought, they did get answered every single time. They got answered by God thumbing His nose at them and piling on more and more tragedy. They got answered with a resounding
NO
.

Why did she even have to be alive?

T
he inside of her head clamored like an orchestra during warm-up while Olivia plodded through the hall on her way to first period. Lost in thought, she felt hands clamp over her eyes. “Hey!” Olivia grabbed at some fingers and spun around. Phew. Just Jordyn.

“What’s got you so distracted? I called your name a bunch of times.” Jordyn furrowed her eyebrows. “Oh, nothing. Just didn’t hear you.”

“Well, come with me. I’ve got a surprise.” Jordyn pulled Olivia’s sleeve and guided her to the back restroom in the old junior-high wing—the only bathroom in the school without stalls. As soon as the door closed behind them, Jordyn locked it. “Look what I’ve got.” She reached in the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a little plastic baggie holding four joints. “These ought to get us through the day, wouldn’t you say?”

Olivia gasped. “We can’t do that here! Are you crazy?” She fumbled for the door.

Jordyn pried Olivia’s fingers from the door handle. “I do it all the time. No one ever comes back here, and the smoke detectors are disabled. Can’t you smell it in here? Everyone does it—well, everyone who’s anyone. It’s been going on for years.”

“Are you sure?” Olivia shook her head. “I don’t want to get in trouble with the police again or get a suspension or something.” Who cared about Mom and Charles? “Look at what happened to Emma.”

“Trust me.” Jordyn put her hand in the bag just as a light knock sounded on the door.

Olivia let out a yelp. “See?” she hissed.

“It’s only Bailey. Let her in.”

Olivia unlocked the door and opened it a crack, blocking with her foot so it wouldn’t open too far.

Bailey pushed on it until she could squeeze her body through the opening. “Sheesh. What’s the problem?”

“Oh, she’s chicken.” Jordyn nodded at Olivia. “Something tells me she’ll be just fine in a minute though.” She giggled and handed a smoldering joint to Olivia.

“Where’s Tara?” Olivia took a drag and passed it to Bailey.

Bailey rolled her eyes at Jordyn. “Ever since the thing with the cops, she thinks she’s too good to hang out with us. That we’re a bad influence on her.”

Jordyn nodded. “I guess her mom smelled pot on her and took her to talk to a pastor. He supposedly talked some sense in her, so now she’s steering clear of us bad influences for a while. She’ll get over it.”

“Fine with me.” Bailey shrugged. “Less we have to share.”

“Now,
that’s
a great point.” After a few long drags, Olivia felt no fear—of anything. That was how she needed to feel at home. Maybe high was the best way to float through her day. And why not? There was no real reason she couldn’t smoke some pot on her own—why wait for Bailey or Jordyn to provide it for her? “Hey, where can I get more of this myself if I want to?”

Bailey winked at Jordyn and laughed. “We thought you’d never ask. Welcome to the jungle.”

“So I heard you were looking for me.” A hand snaked around Olivia’s head to press on the locker beside hers.

She jumped at the raspy male voice in her ear and dropped the stack of books she’d pulled from her locker. She whirled around to find a complete stranger behind her. A creepy one with a metal ring through his lip and black greasy hair tucked behind his ears. “Who are you?”

“I’m Emma’s boyfriend, Seth. I used to go here.” His stringy black hair fell over his eye as he cast a shady glance down the hallway. “We probably don’t want to talk about making a transaction right here, do we?”

“What kind of
transaction?
What are you talking about?” Maybe he had the wrong person.

“I was told you want some of what only I can provide.” He lowered his voice and nodded, imploring her with his eyes to catch on.

“Oh!” Olivia put her books back and slammed her locker door. She had no intention of cracking a single one of those boring tomes, so why lug them home?

Seth followed as she made her way out to the parking lot.

“I have a hundred bucks on me. What will that buy?”

“Shh. Are you insane?” he hissed. “Lower your voice. People aren’t that crazy about a drug deal going down on school property, you know.” Seth glanced in every direction.

Drug deal? That sounded so criminal. But that
was
what she was doing, wasn’t it?

“A hundred bucks will set you up for a good while. And when you need me again, you won’t have any trouble finding me.” Seth reached for her book bag and let something slide out of his sleeve into the bag.