by Carrie Mac
Junie nodded. She could only hope so. She could only desperately hope so.
Kendra had left not long after Junie stormed upstairs. Charlie stayed behind with the film crew until Mrs. D. kicked them out at around nine o’clock and then went home herself, dragging Tabitha with her. Junie stayed up in her room. She thought her mother would come up to check in on her, but she didn’t. She thought her father must have heard and would call or come over, but he didn’t. Well, Junie couldn’t be bothered to go check on her mom if she couldn’t be bothered to check on her, and the same went for her father, so she just crawled under the covers and went to sleep. Blissful, blank, deep sleep.
Hunger woke her up well after dawn, thankfully. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything since that couple of bites of sandwich the afternoon before. She had a shower, got dressed and went downstairs.
The house looked exactly the same as it always had. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she’d thought for sure it should be different somehow, even just by virtue of Kendra having been there. But all the junk was still piled high, the stacks of boxes full of useless stuff still teetered dangerously, and the funk of crap still permeated from the basement. What good was Kendra if she couldn’t fix things magically? On her show everything happened so fast, neatly solved by the end of the hour, the “before” shots surrendering to the “after” shots with plenty of time left over for Kendra to do her end-of-show “life moment” spiel as the credits rolled. But in real life things went a lot slower. Of course they did. Junie knew this logically, but clearly, her inner kindergartner had been hoping for a magic-wand effect. Kendra was no fairy godmother, despite her loyal following. She was more a master puppeteer. And of course her show was edited, Junie told herself. She was stupid to think things could change overnight. This would take time. A lot of time.
Junie checked the refrigerator—nothing but a cucumber and bottles and jars of condiments and some coffee cream. And a couple of apples in the crisper. Junie’s stomach growled as she helped herself to the fruit.
Junie wondered what would become of the old fridge, the one her mother had abandoned, full to nearly bursting with rotting food. Neither she nor her mother had dared open its door since the new fridge came, about a year ago. Junie imagined that the best thing would be to duct-tape it shut for all eternity, and roll it out the front door and straight into one of the bins. She didn’t want anyone to find out what was inside—a refrigerated year-old science experiment gone wrong. Disgusting.
Junie went into the living room and peeked outside. It was just seven now, so there were only two media vans, and no spectators. Yet. Kendra’s trucks were still there, or there again, and her crew of mostly men wandered around laying out cables and checking equipment and drinking steaming coffee from paper cups. Coffee that they’d got from the catering truck, which was what Junie had been hoping to see.
She pulled on a coat and went outside, where Bob hollered good morning and waved her over to where he was fiddling with his camera, which was in pieces on a folding table beside the camera truck.
“You’re up early,” he said as she wandered over. His words made clouds in the cold spring morning. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah, actually. Surprisingly.” Junie gestured at the bustle happening around them. “Were you guys here all night?”
“Nope.” Bob wiped the camera lens with a special cloth. Junie thought of Wade, and how he did the same. With the same kind of blue cloth. There was no doubt at all that he still wouldn’t want to talk to her this morning. A simple “sleep on it” was not going to suffice in this instance.
“We’re at the Sheraton downtown,” Bob said. “Nice place. Big pool. Has a slide.”
Junie laughed at the thought of Bob going down a water slide with his great big belly—hairy more than likely— spilling over his shorts and his beard flung over his shoulder.
“What?” Bob gave her a wink. “Can’t picture me in my Speedo?”
Junie laughed again.
“You’re in better spirits this morning.” Bob glanced at the driveway as a black SUV pulled up. “Oh, that’ll be the Falcon. Gotta look busy.”
Charlie hopped out of the passenger side, wearing great big sunglasses that made her look like an insect. Her hair was in one of those expensive-looking ponytails, with a chunk of long bangs angling neatly across her face.
“Good morning, my little minions!” She minced across the lawn in her high heels. “Where the hell are the Got Junk guys?” She flung her arms open, a large travel mug in one hand, her phone in the other. “They were supposed to be here seven minutes ago!” She made her way to a trailer at the top of the driveway and disappeared inside after hollering hello to Junie and Bob as she passed. After a minute she opened the door and leaned out to add, “I want you to go to school today, okay? We’re going to go with you. Film some footage. I’ve already got the okay from your principal. And that Tabitha’s rabid mother already looked over the contract, so don’t try to get out of it. Awesome, Junie, thanks.”
“What? No way,” Junie protested, but Charlie had ducked back inside, the door slamming behind her. She addressed Bob instead. “No friggin’ way in hell are you guys coming to my school.”
“Oh yes we are.”
“Oh hell no you are not.”
Bob gave her another wink. “You’ll live.”
“No, actually. I won’t. Because I’ll see to it that I jump off the bridge. Mid-span, where it’s highest. At night, so no one will see. Then you can have the pleasure of knowing that it’s your fault that I committed suicide.” Junie wasn’t hungry any more, but she didn’t want to talk to Bob any more either, so she headed for the catering truck.
“Bring me back a cinnamon bun, will ya?” Bob called after her. “Before you jump off the bridge.”
When it was her usual time to leave for school, Tabitha showed up to find Junie sitting on the front step, staring miserably at the convoy of Got Junk trucks lined up at the street.
“You staying home today?” She hefted her backpack over one shoulder. “Man, I was getting used to catching a ride with Wade.”
“Wade would probably be more than happy to give you a ride. He broke up with me, not you.”
“Oh please, don’t be stupid. We’re a package deal.”
“Well, this part of the package would rather stay home. But I can’t. I have to go to school, so that The Kendra Show can film me in full humiliation mode. Yes, that’s right. I’m going to school today, and so is Bob. To film me.”
As if on cue, Bob emerged from the camera truck, camera in hand. He waved. “You ready to go?”
“We’re getting a ride?” Tabitha asked.
“Did you hear a word I said?” Junie stood, hands on her hips. “Any of it?”
“What am I supposed to say?” Tabitha shrugged. “This is happening, Junie. You had your chance to say no. Now it’s being fixed, and if they want to film you walking down the hall to English, what do you care, if it’s going to make your mom better?”
“Wow.” Junie reached inside for her backpack. “It’s kind of early in the day for emotional blackmail, don’t you think?”
“It’s never too early.” Tabitha grinned. “Come on.”
They didn’t get a ride in a limo, much to Tabitha’s dismay, but in the same black SUV that had dropped Charlie off earlier. It had leather seats and tinted windows and made Junie feel like someone a sniper would be interested in. Despite Junie’s protests that the driver—an oddly silent, clean-cut man with a Bluetooth piece in his ear—drop them a couple of blocks away from the school, he pulled right up to the main door and cut the engine.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Junie said as her breath quickened. “Can we just go home, Bob? Please? I can pay you. I’ve got almost a thousand dollars in my bank account. It’s yours if you just go away.”
“Ah, go on,” Bob said gently. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? You’ll be fine, kid.”
“Fine or not.
” Tabitha hopped out and leaned back in to grab Junie. “Let’s go. The sooner you get it over with the sooner it’ll get easier.”
“Not likely.” With a monumental groan, Junie climbed out of the SUV. She stood on the sidewalk, backpack on her shoulder, staring up at the main doors. “This is so lame. I never even go in the main doors.”
Bob gave her a little shove. “Today you do. I want the effect.”
“Fine.” Junie started up the steps, but Bob called for her to stop.
“Gimme a sec to get set up here, will you?”
The boom guy, who’d been in the back seat, snoring on the ride to the school, set up his gear and hovered over Junie with the big boom, furry like a gigantic bee. A school bus pulled up, and a stream of students filed off, staring and murmuring. No one asked what was going on, and it didn’t take Junie long to figure out why. Everyone knew.
Word had already spread. The humiliation would be swift and powerful and exceedingly painful. Jumping off the bridge was beginning to look like a truly viable option.
“What are you looking at?” she asked one of the gawkers. He was no one she knew, just a grade nine kid. He looked away, whispering to his friends. Damon Fielder didn’t look away, though. Always the bully, he was not going to let the opportunity pass.
“Hey, Rawley, I need two hundred mouldy old stuffed animals for a science experiment. Think your hoarder— oops, I mean your mother—can help me out with that?”
“Hey, smartass.” Bob lowered his camera. “Come closer and say that. I want a nice close-up of your ugly face.”
Damon held up his hands and shook his head with a smile. “Thanks, but I’m already famous, man.”
“I’m sure you are,” Bob growled. “Now buzz off.”
“Ignore them,” Tabitha ordered Junie. “Think of your happy place.”
But Junie didn’t have a happy place any more. Her happy place had as good as dumped her the night before. Had he gone out to Chilliwack without her? And if he had, had he told Royce and Jeremy that she was a liar? Would they hate her too now? She thought she heard Wade’s van turning off the street, but when she turned to look, all she saw were the curious stares of fellow students as they made their way into the building, and the black maw of the camera pointed at her. It would be a long day. A long and horrible day.
SEVENTEEN
It was exactly as awful as she’d thought it would be. And worse, actually. Because she’d barely stepped into the school when she spotted Wade at the far end of the hallway. He looked up at the commotion, as the curious murmurs reached him. He caught Junie’s glance and held it, his mouth set in a firm, critical line. Her heart thumped gracelessly in her chest as she tried to figure out if she should go talk to him or give him space.
He decided for her by turning into his Math class without so much as a nod in her direction.
“Ouch,” Junie said out loud. “That actually, factually hurt.”
“He’ll talk to you. Eventually.” Tabitha, having seen the whole exchange, patted Junie’s arm. “Maybe not this morning. Maybe not even today, but he will. Promise.”
And all the while, the cameras rolled, the students stared and Junie wanted to vomit. She couldn’t believe any of this was happening, and furthermore, that all of it was being recorded by a professional TV crew.
Ollie and Lulu were waiting for her by her locker.
“We heard,” Lulu said with a sympathetic smile.
“Can we do anything?” Ollie added another sympathetic smile.
Junie wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never told them about her mother, and now she felt stupid that they’d found out this way when they were her good friends.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Bob stepped back to get everyone in the shot.
Junie rolled her eyes at him. “Bob, please? Please go away? Just for a minute.”
He peered out from around the camera. “No can do, kiddo. You can save anything you want private for later.”
But the explanation couldn’t wait. Ollie and Lulu were waiting for her to say more.
“I didn’t know how to tell you guys about it. About my mom. I was embarrassed—”
“It’s okay.” Lulu gave Bob a surprisingly fierce look. “We can talk about it later. When he’s not around. We’ve got Art. Let’s go.” She grabbed Junie’s hand and pulled her down the hall. Junie was so thankful for her at that moment that she wanted to give her a big hug, but instead, she just let herself be led.
Once the class got underway, with Bob circling the room, his boom guy following him, Junie and Lulu passed notes to each other while they worked silently on their projects.
Lulu: You don’t have to apologize,
Junie: I do so. I should’ve told you guys. I just didn’t know how.
Lulu: We’ve all got our secrets. They’re part of who we are.
Junie: That’s pretty generous. Thank you. At least now you know why I’ve never invited you over.
She slipped the paper to Lulu, who read it and wrote back almost immediately. She slid the paper back with a smile.
Lulu: And all this time I thought you didn’t like me very much.
“No, no, no. I do. I just . . .” And there was the camera in her face again. Junie ripped another piece of paper out of her notebook and wrote fast. I was just so embarrassed. It’s been really bad for a long time.
Lulu: Maybe Ollie and I can help?
“That’s really sweet, Lulu,” Junie said. “But I think it’s probably best left to the professionals. It’s that bad.” Truth was, she didn’t want Lulu or Ollie seeing it, even now that her secret was out.
Lulu saw right through her. “We’ll all see it eventually,” she gestured to Bob and the boom guy with a small flick of her wrist. “Come on, Junie. Let us help at least.”
“It’s way worse in real life, Lulu. Worse than you can imagine.” Junie shook her head. “Sorry, Lulu. I can’t.”
“Okay,” Lulu said with a shrug. “But if you change your mind, you know where we are.
“I just can’t.” Junie couldn’t . . . what? Couldn’t accept help? Couldn’t let her friends see how bad it was? Well, what was the point? As far as accepting help, want it or not, it had been foisted upon her. And as for them seeing how bad it was, her reality would soon be televised for the entire world to see.
But time was the only tool she had. If she could keep the world at bay for a little longer, she would.
Bob and the boom guy—his name was Nikolai and he didn’t speak much English—followed Junie through the halls to Math class, where Ollie tried his best to console her by aiming a drippingly sympathetic glance in her direction at every opportunity. Thankfully, Mr. Benson wouldn’t tolerate any chatter, otherwise Junie was sure that Ollie would have laid it on much as Lulu had. They’d probably strategized last night when it was all over the news.
Halfway through class, Bob and Nikolai left, rejoining her in the hall when the bell rang, dashing her hopes that they’d gotten enough footage and had left for the day.
“Too much to hope that you’d dropped off the face of the Earth?” she said when they fell into step behind her and Ollie.
“Oh, my heart!” Bob stumbled back, hand to his chest. “Thou hast wounded me fiercely with thou barbed words.”
“Is that a quote?” Ollie asked. “Because if it is, I think you’ve got it wrong.”
“Who’s this guy?” Bob aimed the camera at Ollie.
Ollie held out his hand. Bob manoeuvred his equipment so he could shake it. “Bob McGillicuddy. And that’s Nikolai.”
“Hello and please I am to meet you,” Nikolai said.
“Ollie. Junie’s friend and math tutor.”
Bob laughed. “You need a math tutor?” He raised his voice as Mr. Benson walked by. “If a smart girl like you needs a math tutor, what does that say about the competency of the math teacher?”
Mr. Benson scowled at the group of them, clutching his coffee mug in both hands as if restraining hims
elf from hurling it at Junie. Or Bob.
“I like you, Bob.” Junie grinned, feeling light for the first time since chaos had descended on her the day before. “You’re good people. Sort of.”
But the lightness didn’t last. She caught sight of Wade again, at his locker, pulling his Chemistry text out of his backpack.
“Wade!”
He turned at the sound of her voice, but then slammed his locker shut and stalked away.
“Want me to talk to him?” Ollie offered.
“I don’t know.” Junie felt her throat swell. Tears would be next. She fixed her eyes on the girls’ washroom and headed directly for it, leaving the guys stranded in the hallway.
Junie shut herself in a stall and took a deep breath. That didn’t help. The tears came anyway. She wadded a bunch of toilet paper and blew her nose. She heard the door open, and through the crack in the stall she saw Mallory Weiss and her best friend, Tara Peters. Junie was about to get out of the stall, but when she heard Mallory mention her name, she froze.
“I heard on the news that her house is so bad that they’re going to bulldoze it.” Mallory’s voice was casual, which seemed so wrong, considering her words.
“They said that there is shit everywhere,” Tara said. “Like, it’s flooded with actual shit. Isn’t that disgusting?”
“Totally.”
Junie peered through the crack. Mallory was putting on lipstick, leaning in to the mirror, blinking. Tara stood beside her, running her fingers through her hair. She didn’t hate either of the girls—or hadn’t until now, anyway—but she wouldn’t have called either one of them a friend, either.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Junie heard Ollie’s voice. “Junie? You okay in there?”
“Oh my God.” Mallory spun, lipstick in hand. “She’s in here?”
Junie contemplated the toilet, wondering if she should just climb into it and forever disappear into the sewer system.
“I’m fine,” Junie bleated. She pushed open the door to the cubicle and stood there. The two girls were blocking her way to the door. They stared at her, jaws slack.