The Girlfriend Shield

by S. A. Hunter

  Cora stood up. She grabbed her walker and marched into the hall.

  She announced herself by saying, “I want to go to the West Estate!”

  I covered my eyes with my hands. This was bad. Mom and Cora could get into nasty fights. Cora seemed to enjoy them, but Mom was always super upset afterward.

  “What are the other reasons?” he asked.

  He was sitting very straight in his chair. He hadn’t touched his slice of pie.

  “Nothing, don’t—“

  “What are the other reasons?” he repeated. He turned to me and I flinched. His eyes had gone flat and his voice was emotionless.

  “Sarah, tell us. We won’t be upset,” Angela said gently.

  I knew that wasn’t true.

  “Is it my parents?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not.”

  Angela figured it out. “It’s because it’s the West Estate.”

  I ducked my head.

  “What’s wrong with my home?” he asked.

  “Damien,” Angela said.

  “What?” he asked perturbed.

  I hadn’t considered that while the West Estate was the location for some of my worst memories, it was still his home. One of them at least. Maybe his favorite.

  “I haven’t been back since everything happened. It’s going to be hard not to remember everything and get a little upset,” I said. “A little” was not the operative word, but my pride kept me from admitting to more.

  “Everything that—“ Damien started but didn’t finish.

  “Being kidnapped, shot at, almost killed.”

  “Nothing like that will ever happen again. The new head of security is retired secret service. He’s trustworthy. We quadrupled the number of guards.”

  “I’m sure your home is very safe. That’s not the issue.”

  “Then what’s the issue?”

  I swallowed with difficulty. Talking about it was tough. I’d declined counseling when Dr. Chang suggested it after the incident. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it. I’d had nightmares for weeks afterward, but I’d kept them to myself. “Do you know why you have panic attacks?” I asked.

  His face slammed shut at the question. “No, I told you that.”

  “I mean do you know what triggers them? Maybe not every time, but are there certain things that—“

  “You.”

  I stopped, thrown by his comment.

  “You mean when you think she’s hurt like when she was stabbed?” Angela said to try and clarify.

  “And when she’s mad at me and I don’t know what to do to make her happy.”

  This revelation made me abandon my previous course. How was I supposed to handle this?

  “That’s not fair,” I said.

  “No, it’s not,” Angela agreed.

  He threw up his hands. “You asked! I told you.”

  “But you’re lying,” Angela said.

  “No, I’m not!”

  “You used to have panic attacks every day. Since you met Sarah, they’ve reduced to only a couple a week. She helps keep the attacks away.”

  “Exactly! So when she’s mad at me, I’m scared the attacks will come back as strong as ever and she won’t be there to help me.”

  I sat there in shock. I hadn’t known how bad the attacks had been for him.

  “No, you will not put that responsibility on her. She is not your nurse or your doctor. If you’re being a shithead, she’s allowed to get mad at you and storm away. You can’t make her stay by your side by guilting her about your panic attacks.”

  “I’m not trying to guilt her,” he muttered.

  I sighed. I wanted to delve into what Damien had said, but I needed to make my original point. “Needless to say, I’m scared I’m going to have a panic attack if I go to the West Estate.”

  “Why didn’t you say that, to begin with?”

  “Do you want me to hold him down while you slap him?” Angela asked.

  “Tempting.”

  He stood up. “I don’t have to sit here for this. You can decline the invitation. I don’t care. I know our parents don’t get along. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Is it time to go?” Cora asked from the doorway.

  Mom and Dad were behind her. I was relieved to see Mom’s eyes weren’t red from tears.

  “It’s only two o’clock,” I said.

  “We don’t want to be late,” Cora said.

  Had they agreed to go to the West Estate? This thought upset me. I felt sort of betrayed.

  “Sarah?” Mom asked.

  I didn’t know where to look, and I didn’t know what to say. I got up jerkily. “I need to go to my room.”

  “Sarah?” he asked.

  I didn’t look at him. I was shaking. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what was upsetting me. I wanted to go to the West Estate. No, I wanted to have Christmas dinner with my family and friends. It just seemed like it had to happen at the West Estate and that was causing some sort of paradox inside of me. I felt like I was going to fly up into myself with a pop. I slipped by Cora and my parents. I didn’t look at their faces. I went into my room, but I couldn’t close the door because Mom was in the way. I turned and went to my bed. I didn’t know if I should lie down. I opted to stand there and stare at my bedspread.

  Mom came up beside me and put an arm around me. “Lie down, honey,” she said.

  “I don’t want to go,” I muttered.

  “I know.”

  “But I can’t tell him.”

  “He’ll understand.”

  “It’s his home.”

  “I know.”

  I took a deep rattling breath. “Mom?”

  She pulled me down to sit on the bed and rubbed my back. “Shh. It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  I squeezed my hands together. “I need to tell them.”

  “I can do it.”

  “You all could still go.”

  She laughed softly. “We could, but we won’t.”

  “Cora really wants to go.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  “I’ve ruined Christmas.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing, honey.”

  “I don’t feel right. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like a photo negative.”

  “You mean all your darks are light and lights are dark?”

  I nodded miserably.

  She stroked my head. “It’ll pass, and it’s normal.”

  “Doesn’t feel normal,” I muttered.

  Mom smiled softly at me. “I know.”

  She got up from the bed. “I’ll tell the others.”

  “No, I should.”

  “Sarah, you don’t need to.”

  “I want to. They deserve to hear it from me.”

  I got up and with Mom hovering at my side, went back to the kitchen, but only Cora and Dad were there.

  “Where are Angela and Damien?” I asked.

  “They insisted on going, but they wanted you to know they’re sorry,” Dad said.

  “But I wanted to tell them sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  I didn’t like it though. I went back to my bedroom. I grabbed my phone. I wanted to text Damien, but I was scared to, so I sent Angela a text instead. *Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. How’s Damien?*

  I waited, hoping she’d reply. The longer she didn’t reply the more worried I got.

  *You have nothing to be sorry about and he’s fine.*

  Angela’s words comforted me, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust them. *Are you sure?*

  My ringtone startled me. It was Damien calling. I was scared to answer. No, not scared. Ashamed. I picked up and put the phone tentatively to my ear. “Hello?”

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  I grimac
ed, but he deserved an honest answer. “Ashamed.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I lost it so bad. I ruined everything. I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything. I did. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t want to come to my house.”

  I had to cover my mouth to hold back the laugh at him referring to the West Estate as a house. It was bigger than the apartment building.

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?”

  Having Damien ask me that sobered me up. “I will be.”

  “I wish...” he trailed off with a sigh.

  “What?”

  “I know you probably preferred having your mom, but I wish it had been me helping you.”

  I tried to imagine him being the one in my room while I shook, but I couldn’t really picture it. I would have hated it. I didn’t want him to see me like that. But I couldn’t tell him that. How would it reflect on him? He let me help him with his attacks all the time. Of course, he would want to return the favor, but I would have hated it. I would hate myself for crumbling in front of him. I didn’t want him to see me like that, but he didn’t hide it from me. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

  “I should probably hang up,” he said.

  “Do you have to?” I asked softly. I was curled up in bed with the phone pressed to my ear. I felt warm and cozy and with his voice in my ear, I wasn’t alone.

  My response seemed to fluster him. “Um no, I don’t have to. I just thought—I mean if you don’t want me to hang up—Don’t your parents want you off the phone?”

  “No, they’re in the living room. I’m in my room. Do your parents want you to hang up?”

  “Don’t know. They aren’t talking to me.”

  “What do you mean—“

  Mrs. West’s voice came through the cell phone distantly, “We’re being polite. Tell Sarah Merry Christmas for us!”

  “Wait, your parents are right there? They can hear what you’re saying to me?” I could feel my face burning up.

  “I’m not talking that loudly,” he said, “and you’re the one who insisted I spend Christmas with them. So here I am, spending Christmas.”

  “Yeah, but...” I didn’t know what to say.

  “So you want me to hang up?”

  I blew out a breath. He sometimes really didn’t get it. “No, just be careful what you say.”

  “Yeah, fine whatever.”

  “And tell your parents Merry Christmas for me.”

  Now he blew out an unhappy breath. “Sarah says Merry Christmas to you both.”

  “How did she do on her exams?”

  Hearing Mr. West’s voice gave me goosebumps. His voice wasn’t deep or that distinctive, but knowing who he was and that he knew who I was, still seemed surreal.

  “She flunked all of them.”

  “No, I didn’t! Don’t tell them that! You wait until I see you again. I’m going to save some of that snow and when you least expect it, whamo!”

  I heard a mixture of laughter in reply.

  “Wait, am I on speaker phone?!”

  Chapter 8

  Christmas dinner was quieter than lunch, but it was relaxed. I didn’t feel anxious and no one resented not being at the West Estate. Even Cora told me everything was fine. Red joined us which was nice. I felt a wave of guilt when I realized that if we had gone to the West Estate, Red would have come to an empty apartment. Since Angela and Damien had left, I’d been in contact with them all day trading texts and short phone calls. We were apart but not separated.

  One person, that I hadn’t heard from and that I hadn’t thought about calling, reached out to me that evening.

  I suppose even a fake couple should talk to each other on Christmas.

  “Hi, Noah. How’s your mom and sister?”

  “They’re equally annoying. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where are you?”

  The question surprised me a little. “I’m home. Where did you think I’d be?”

  “Thought they might have invited you over.”

  “They did, but I couldn’t go.”

  This surprised him. “Really?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ooh?” he said with interest.

  I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond.

  “Oh.” His second oh was more serious.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t ready to set foot back there.”

  “I get it.”

  “How are things going for you, really?”

  “Mom is being very snide about you and little sis is joining in even though she knows nothing about you.”

  “To be expected.”

  “It’s pissing me off.”

  “Why? None of it matters.”

  “I don’t like it,” he muttered.

  “Thanks for defending me, but really, don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you wearing the necklace?”

  The question startled me. “No.” I’d tucked the box into a desk drawer. I hadn’t shown it to anyone. Frankly, it embarrassed me. I didn’t deserve it.

  “You promised.”

  “Noah.” I couldn’t believe he was trying to hold me to that fake promise.

  “You need to wear it.”

  “And tell my parents what? What about Angela and Damien? It would look really weird.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. It would look like a girlfriend wearing the gift her boyfriend gave her.”

  “Fake boyfriend,” I said.

  “Whatever.”

  “Have you eaten the candy I gave you?” I asked in challenge. I couldn’t imagine he’d had any more of it. I could picture him throwing it away without a qualm.

  “I really enjoyed the chocolate covered peanut butter balls. I’m saving the rest. I’m only eating one of them a day.”

  I frowned into the receiver. “You don’t have to eat them.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? They’re good.”

  “I’ll tell Mom that you like them.”

  “Did you get anything else good for Christmas?”

  I wasn’t sure I should tell him about the winter wonderland that Damien had created. It would probably upset him. It had been a very public gesture. I wasn’t sure what others made of it. I realized that had been another reason why Damien may have wanted to keep it just between us. By letting the rest of the school see it, they may have wondered why Damien had done that for me. “I got socks.”

  “Thrilling.”

  “Did you get a Lambo?”

  “No, but I may ask for one for my next birthday just for Cora.”

  “If you let her behind the wheel, you will regret it.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “It’s your funeral.”

  “Would you cry for me?”

  His question freaked me out. “I was joking,” I said to stop wherever this conversation was going.

  But he didn’t want to put on the brakes. “And I’m asking.”

  “Yes, I’d cry great big crocodile tears and sell all the dirty secrets of our relationship to the tabloids.”

  “Dirty secrets? Now I’m interested.”

  “Well you see, my boyfriend is really self-centered. He hates when things don’t go his way and is a spoiled brat.”

  “Did you forget we were supposed to be talking about me and not Damien?”

  I huffed into the receiver.

  “Merry Christmas, Sarah,” he said it gently and with warmth.

  The way he’d said it threw me off. “Merry Christmas,” I said reflexively.

  After he hung up, I sat staring at the phone for a bit. Noah was beginning to worry me. Could he be developing feelings for me?

  ON DEC. 27th, a van picked us up to go to the airport. We had spent the 26th packing and putting away Christmas decorations. Damien had sent me pictures of Hawaii throughout the day. Each one made me a little more excited about going.

  Everyone was nervously t
hrilled. We still couldn’t fathom we were going to Hawaii. Red and Dean Crowe saw us off. We could barely see them over our packed luggage in the rearview mirror. As we turned onto the road, Cora pinched my arm.

  “Ow, what was that for?”

  “To make sure you’re not dreaming.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to pinch yourself?”

  “No, why would I want to do that?”

  “To make sure you’re not dreaming?”

  “If I am, I don’t want to know.”

  I continued to rub the spot where Cora pinched me. It still felt like I was dreaming.

  Since we were taking a private plane, we didn’t go to the main terminal. Instead, we drove up to a wire gate and spoke to a security guard. We had to show ID, and he checked our names off a list. After he opened the gate, we drove to a hangar. Two limos were parked outside when we pulled up. We climbed out of the van, and while Dad helped the driver pull out our luggage, I looked around for the others.

  There was a rolling gangway pushed up to the jet and the door to the plane was wide open. Damien appeared at the entrance.

  “Sarah!” he yelled in greeting. He came rushing down the stairs to meet us. He was dressed all in black, exactly like the first time I’d ever seen him, but the difference between him then and him now were like night and day.

  Before I knew what he intended, I found myself nearly choked by the hug he gave me. “Damien, ease up,” I said, trying to regain normal breathing.

  Noah and Angela appear at the entrance behind him.

  “It’s going to be so great! Let’s go!” He tried to pull me to the plane by the arm hooked around my neck.

  “Damien,” Dad said with a touch of warning.

  He turned to my dad and some of the excitement drained from his face. He removed his arm which my windpipe appreciated. I wondered if he was regretting inviting my parents on this trip.

  “Let him be. We all know we’re only here because he wanted to take Sarah,” Cora said.

  Dad didn’t reply. As our suitcases were loaded into the luggage bay, we realized we had a problem. Cora stared at the stairs bleakly.

  “Hans!” Damien yelled.

  A male flight attendant appeared at the plane’s door.

  “Carry Sarah’s grandmother up the stairs.”

  “Wait, I don’t think—“ I started.

  “Shut up, Sarah,” Cora snapped. The flight attendant came down the stairs. He certainly appeared strong enough to carry Cora. She was doing a little dance as the large, burly man approached.