by Ginger Scott
Her phone goes to voicemail again quickly. I turn away from Casey so I can concentrate. “Hey, Paige…” I pause. Shit, I don’t really know what to say next. And Casey is listening. And now I’ve left about five seconds of silence on the phone. “Sorry, I…got distracted with something. Not earlier, I mean right now, when I just stopped talking. Well, now and earlier. That’s why I didn’t call back. Leah’s sick. That’s what I meant. Anyhow, I’m sorry I had to hang up so fast. Did you want to talk about the room? It’s still yours…if you want it. Just let me know. So…yeah. Call me. Oh, this is Houston.”
Fucking weak. My cheeks hurt from a fifth-grade brand of embarrassment, and it only gets worse when I turn around and Casey has his thumb and pinky finger stretched out like a phone. “So, like, totally call me, okay?” he says, mocking me.
“Shut up and eat another cookie,” I say. He wastes no time, pulling out one more and biting nearly half away. I hear Leah clapping upstairs, and I know that means she’s feeling better. It’s only been about ten minutes, but I guess throwing up a cookie is a lot more fun than throwing up Saltines and Sprite. I pull a cookie out for her, putting it on a plate, then pour a small glass of soda, and start to walk back up the stairs.
“Oh, this is Houston by the way,” Casey says through a full mouth, laughing before he can get the entire insulting sentence out. I don’t even acknowledge him. I know he’s just warming up, and I’ll have plenty of opportunities to say something to his face when I’m done with Leah.
Paige
Dad picked me up from the airport. That was good. I’m sure Mom has worked herself up trying to figure out why I wanted to come home early, dreaming up theories and worst-case scenarios. She does this with Cass more than me, probably because she worries over my sister’s health. Getting carried away is kind of her thing.
I had a few hours at home alone when Dad dropped me off. He headed back into the office, probably dealing with the assault case for my sister. I welcomed the alone time. Here, in my room, where I could erase the last six months and pretend I was still me—the girl I was before everything got so fucked up and twisted.
I haven’t been good at staying in touch with my friends from high school. Most of them stayed in California. I was going to stay in California…until I sacrificed everything for Cass. I think I blamed her for a while. Maybe I still do. But I know ultimately I made the choice to go to Oklahoma; I made all of the choices that got me where I am now.
Looking at my phone, I hover over Lexi’s number. She and I were best friends in high school, and she went to Long Beach for college. I know she’s in town. I text her.
Just got back for the holidays. Would love to see you! Call me and let’s hang out! XO
The feeling she’s not going to call sinks into my chest quickly, and I instantly regret messaging her. When I toss it on my bed, my phone buzzes with a message. I grab it with hope, but it isn’t a text message. It’s a voicemail. I flip to the missed calls, and see there’s three from Houston. I’m not sure why I didn’t hear it ring, or maybe I’m just now getting the message from the time my phone was on airplane mode. Either way, I’m glad I didn’t pick up. I may be starting to waver on my decision to move in with him.
His message is short, and sort of…weird. He sounds flustered, which only adds to my own anxiety. By the time my mom gets home, I have a raging headache and my neck is stiff from scrunching my shoulders up to my head with stress. I’m still happy to see her; her hug feels like a soft blanket, making me feel safe—if only for a moment.
“How was your flight?” she asks, letting go, standing back, and holding me by both arms, like she’s taking an inventory to make sure I didn’t come back with broken parts. I did, just nothing she can see.
“Good, no turbulence,” I say. My mom smiles. She hates turbulence. Add that to her long list of things she freaked out about when Cass and I told her we were both going to Oklahoma.
“Oh, thank god,” she says, hooking her bags on the rack by the door and kicking her shoes from her feet. My mom always brings home samples of things from the store. She has this grand idea of working on new display items and jewelry at night, but never really does any of it—she just takes the bags back and forth. Cass and I used to pull a few of the beads out at night, when she was asleep, to make things for our friends. Right now, the familiarity of her routine is comforting.
“We were thinking of going to dinner tonight—maybe to the pier, since your sister doesn’t like seafood as much as we do. What do you think?” she asks, and I start to answer with a smile when my phone chimes in the distance.
“Dinner sounds great,” I say over my shoulder, moving to my room to check my phone. There’s a part of me that both hopes and dreads another message from Houston. When I see it’s just a return from Lexi, I’m equally conflicted—disappointment…meet relief.
OMG you are such a rescue. Please. Mall. Now. Parents making me crazy. Pick you up in five?
I laugh lightly as I read her words. As much as things have changed, nothing has changed. Lexi’s parents are the kind of couple that should have divorced a decade ago, only they’re stubborn and don’t want to be labeled failures. Instead, they hang on and fight and exist in an awful marriage. Lexi used to spend the night at our house a lot. Whenever I went to her house, her parents would make these little remarks to one another, passive-aggressive things since they didn’t want to fight in front of company. I kind of think the childish picking at one another was worse, though.
I write her back.
Give me 10 mins. Mom just got home. But I can go. Excited to see you!
For a minute, I feel normal. I change quickly, putting on my skinny jeans and my favorite tight, black sweater so I can wear my new boots. I didn’t bring them to campus with me the first time. I wasn’t sure how cold the weather would be, or what snow would be like there. But now that I’ve lived there, I think I can wear these without much trouble.
My mom’s smile falls a little when she sees me, and I feel bad leaving so quickly. But I need a dose of a real friend—a friend from before. There are some things that my girlfriends can do that my parents can’t.
“I’m sorry. I won’t be long. And I’ll be home for dinner. It was Lexi; she needs to escape,” I say, pulling my purse over my shoulder and moving close enough to my mom to grab a hold of her arm and swing it. She squeezes me in return and smiles easily again.
“Okay, I understand. But make sure you save some time for your dad and me, okay?” she says.
“I promise,” I say, crossing my heart and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. Truth is, my mom is really my only other friend right now.
True to form, Lexi shows up right at ten minutes. I skip down the driveway to her car. She’s still driving the red Camaro she got for her sixteenth birthday, and the top is down. I pull the hair tie from my wrist and fasten my hair by my neck. Hopefully it will survive Lexi’s driving.
The ride to the mall is spent catching up. Lexi joined a sorority at Long Beach, and she’s also gotten involved with a few clubs on campus. She was always into things like student council and the social committees in high school, so nothing she says is a surprise. She has a boyfriend—some guy named Curtis. She met him at the first sorority mixer. I start to tell her about Carson, about how I met a guy too, but then I stop short, remembering everything my life is in Oklahoma. It’s not something I want to brag about, so instead, I lie.
“I haven’t really met anyone,” I say, shrugging. But for some reason, at that very moment, all I can think about is Houston.
“Well, you will. College is amazing, isn’t it?” she says, turning the car sharply to the right, fitting into a spot I’m fairly sure isn’t really a spot.
“It’s pretty great,” I respond, keeping my face from her while I exit the car. I can feign happiness in my words, but I don’t think I’m up for making happy faces.
We spend the first hour trying out new makeup samples. I sprayed my wrists with my favorite Chanel, b
ut stopped there. I don’t like tainting the good scent with a bunch of crappy ones—I won’t even smell something I’m not sure I’m going to like. I have a feeling my parents bought me the new set for Christmas, so I buy a few new lip colors, but nothing else.
The afternoon is easy—like old times. And when we’re trying on boots at our favorite shoe store, I realize I’m actually smiling—from joy.
“I wish I would have stayed in California,” I let slip out. My eyes fall down to my hands working on a zipper for a knee-high pair of gray leather boots.
“You’re a good sister,” Lexi says, touching her hand to my arm. I wasn’t shy about telling everyone why I was going to Oklahoma. Paige, the martyr—giving up her dreams for her sister’s. Six months ago, having Lexi stroke my arm because she feels bad for me and is impressed with this sacrifice I’m making…that would have been enough. That would have satisfied me. Today, I don’t feel worthy.
“So, do I get to meet this Curtis guy?” I ask, changing the subject. There’s a flash of something in her face; I can’t tell for sure, but I think…I think it has to do with me.
“He lives in San Diego. I’m not even sure if I’ll see him over the break,” she says, her focus back to the box of black strappy heels she’s repackaging. I hold her gaze, willing her to look at me from the periphery, but she doesn’t budge. She’s avoiding me, because she knows I can tell when she’s lying.
“Right,” I say, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly while I let my teeth saw at the inside of my bottom lip. Six months ago, I wouldn’t even hesitate. I’d call her out right in front of me—ask her what she’s hiding. But now…I’m a little tired of sleuthing and finding out the ugly things really going on in people’s heads. I decide to let Lexi off the hook, and we step out from the store into the main area of the mall. The closer we get to the next store, the more I dismiss the feeling from moments before.
And then we run into more familiar faces. Courtney and Steph, the other half of our regular crew—the four of us inseparable only months before. Now, they look at me with what I can only describe as contempt, shifting their attention to Lexi, dismissing me with short waves of hello.
I’m standing on the outside of their very small circle, smiling and pretending they’re engaging me as they discuss some party happening in the Valley, plans for New Year’s, the state of Lexi’s parents’ ever-crumbling marriage, and then one of them makes an error.
“You should totally bring Curtis to the party, since he’s staying with you,” Steph says, only realizing she messed up when the silence practically chokes the other two.
I’ve heard when people leave the earth’s atmosphere, there’s a thin layer of space and time where they’re both inside and out—that small moment where they have a chance to stay or to abandon their world behind them. I’m in that moment now. I could continue to pretend—go home and never text or call Lexi again, letting my curiosity over why everyone is awkward and dismissive toward me eat away from the inside until there was nothing recognizable left. Or, I could find that last scrap of me that’s truly me and open my mouth. Either way, I’d be burning bridges, but by standing up for myself, at least I’d be going out with one hell of a fire.
“Yes, Lexi,” I say, twisting my head to face my now former-friend with a snap, catching her by surprise. She shouldn’t be surprised; she has no idea how weak I’ve become. This version of me—this is the only one she knows. “Bring Curtis. You were just saying how I should meet him soon.”
There’s no mistaking the expression on my face, the blaze in my eyes, and the word bitch that I’m holding back behind my newly-glossed and red lips. Lexi knows it. She’s caught, but she’s not going to cause a scene. She shakes her head with a polite smile and agrees with me.
Courtney makes an excuse to leave, and Steph hugs Lexi from the side, practically pushing her in front of me to shield herself, afraid I might want some form of affectionate farewell too. Relax, Steph. I don’t want to hug you either. If I did, I’d likely choke you.
Lexi walks a few paces in front of me, watching our friends fade into the crowd and eventually another boutique. She stops, knowing her time is up. When she turns to face me, I don’t give her a chance to feed me a line.
“Tell me what that was all about. Tell me the truth—because you know I will see your lies. Tell me here, in public, right now, because I don’t care if you’re uncomfortable. I don’t want you to get to put off whatever the hell you can’t seem to pull out of your throat any longer,” I say, my voice syrupy-sweet as I keep the smile on my mouth for the benefit of the crowded mall around us.
Lexi’s posture slumps, her eyes terrified.
“Spill it,” I say, my fingers tingling like they want to hit something. I’ve never hit anything, well…not hard anyhow. But right now…I want to punch someone.
“We all know,” she says finally, and the way she relaxes, the breath leaving her chest in a whoosh, it feels like those words should be enough. Somehow, I’m supposed to know what it is they know, and the weight of that makes me even more agitated. Because I don’t know shit. And if it’s something I don’t know, then it’s either about my sister or…
“We saw it…” she says, her eyebrows raised as she leans forward to me to whisper. “Your…porn.”
You have to be fucking kidding me!
“My…I’m sorry. Did you say…porn?” I’m actually laughing with nerves and fury as I speak.
Lexi tugs on my arm, moving us to a small cluster of seats in the middle of the mall, pushing me down into a chair nestled right next to the one she takes. I’m kind of pissed that she’s manhandling me, but I’m also freaking numb as hell, so I go along with it.
“I don’t think it’s online, but Paige…what were you thinking?” She honestly believes I’m in porn.
“Ah…ha…” I start to laugh, looking around to see who’s watching us. Nobody cares, and no one has turned their heads once. Porn. The one girl—not related to me—who has known me longest, thinks I’m an adult-film star.
“This is serious, Paige,” she says, her brow pinched, her face in intervention mode. I hate the way she keeps saying my name for emphasis. She looks ridiculous. This whole thing…it’s ridiculous.
“Lexi,” I say her name back with a little bite, and she flinches. “I am not, let me repeat, am not in a porno film.
“I saw it Paige,” she says, leaning her head to one side and affecting pity. I hold her stare for a few long seconds, the crowd behind her blurring out as women rush by with bags and high schoolers ditching class for the day swear and push one another. And then I realize…I remember.
“Oh. My. God!” I say in a short and panicked voice, standing and looking around. Still…nobody notices me. I sit back down and let my face fall into my hands.
Rush week was hell, and Chandra made us do a lot of embarrassing things. One of them was strip for the Sigma guys, and she filmed it. It was sort of innocent, and we only went down to our bra and panties—but Chandra filmed it. And last month, with Carson, he might have filmed…something else. And fuck!
“Who showed you this? Where was it? How did they show you? Who gave it to them…” I watch her shake her head as she tries to sort through my barrage of questions.
“Steph goes to UCLA, and she lives on Tabitha Snyder’s floor. I guess Tab knows your sister and some chick on Cass’s soccer team is her cousin or something? Cass didn’t show her. I don’t think Cass even knows, if that’s what you’re worried about, but that other girl had the video and emailed it to her. She told her it was going around.”
I stand before Lexi’s done talking, and she stands with me, pulling her purse close to her body like somehow now that she’s told me the sordid secret going around about me, we’re in danger. Look out! Muggers coming out of the woodwork because there’s a stupid fucking rumor floating around about me.
I feel her hand reach for the back of my shirt, and I shrug her off.
“Paige? Why? Did you need money
or something? I mean, how much money can you really make from something like that?” I note the way she’s looking at me while she talks. I think there’s a part of her concern that is genuine. But she’s also made it clear she’d cut me loose in a heartbeat to save her own reputation—even if it meant letting me fall down a cliff.
“No, Lexi. I didn’t get money for it,” I say, my answer clipped on purpose. She’s waiting with her mouth ajar for me to fill her in more. Maybe she’s waiting for the big protest, for my explanation—which I actually do have. I probably should defend myself, but I just don’t feel like it. I don’t think Lexi deserves it, and I don’t think it would do any good.
I turn and leave Lexi behind, calling my mom to come pick me up at a restaurant a block away. When she comes, her face painted with that same worried expression I’ve seen too much of today, I snap at her and tell her Lexi ditched me to go smoke pot and she should just be happy that her daughter doesn’t do shit like that.
Tabitha went to our high school, and she played on the team there with Cass. She’s also Chandra’s cousin—and like Chandra, Tabitha never really cared for my sister. So I’m sure she was happy to help spread a lie about me, and I’m sure Chandra told her it would hurt Cass.
When we get back to the house, I do a frenzied search online for myself, for the video. Nothing comes up, but now I know it might. The threat is real. I search through Tabitha’s Facebook posts—glad she’s too stupid to keep her page private. When I see pictures of her and Chandra, I feel my blood boil. Without waiting, I pull my phone into my hand and type a message to Houston.