“Maybe you should put them away once in a while,” Nicole said jokingly.
“Whatever. Boys like them. They buy me shit because of them.” She cupped her own breasts. “Right, girls?”
“Like what?” Seth asked.
“I dunno. Like beer. Cigarettes. Stupid shit like candy. This guy my dad works with bought me a subscription to Rolling Stone Magazine. He said I look like Britney Spears or something and wanted me to read it and see what she was wearing, which was mostly a g-string.”
“That’s pretty creepy,” Nicole said.
“Tell me about it. That guy stares at my tits all the time. He comes by my house sometimes to see my dad. Always looks at me. Just like Seth did.”
Seth threw a cracker back at her. “I said I was sorry.”
“Are you sorry plus infinity?”
“I’m not six, you know.”
Amanita was giggling, giddy from the soda. Seth couldn’t help but notice the way her chest jiggled up and down now. Oh God, I’m staring again!
“Swear on never watching another Star Wars movie that you’re sorry.”
“For the love of God. Yes, I swear I will never watch another movie—”
“Star Wars movie!”
“—Star Wars movie again if I am not utterly sincere. There, I said it.”
She held her hand out to him, pinky curled like a hook. “Now pinky swear.”
“What?”
“Pinky swear, bitch.” She was laughing so hard cracker was flying out of her mouth.
He wrapped his pinky around hers and they snapped them apart. He liked the way her hand felt in his, soft and slightly cold. He felt himself blushing the same way he had in the SUV when she’d jumped on him. He hated her attitude, hated how she was laughing like a loon right now, but she was very attractive and he couldn’t deny his own blossoming urges. He would give anything to just kiss her. He knew he was going to grow up to be fat, and that he’d never kiss a girl even half this attractive. His only consolation was that she’d grow up to be some man’s nightmare.
“So what did your dad do?” Connor asked. “About the guy who told you to dress like Britney.”
Amanita shrugged, finally stopped laughing, looked at her cracker. A moment of silence passed. “Nothing. He don’t care. Typical day at my house. These crackers suck.” She tossed them on the ground behind her.
It was awkward, yet somehow characteristic Amanita. The sudden onset of a bad mood. And for some unknown reason Seth felt like he’d started the whole thing, brought her to this place she was in now, feeling depressed and unloved. He felt like he needed to make good on it.
So he threw a chip at her.
She watched it land on her leg but made no move to brush it away.
He threw another. This one hit her in the head.
She looked up, not really smiling but maybe not so angry anymore.
Then something hit him in the head. And he turned just in time to see Connor throw a Dorito at his face. Seth threw a chip back. Nicole threw one at Seth. Amanita threw one at Connor. Dozens of chips suddenly cut the air.
And before they knew it their first high school food fight had erupted.
Sunday, 1:26am
They were laughing, rolling in a sea of nacho crumbs and plastic wrappers when Seth felt the first tear pool in the corner of his eye. He just couldn’t stop it. It was a need he’d been withholding all night. Without warning the floodgates opened and he was suddenly crying into his lap, his breath catching between sobs. He knew it was due to the sudden emotional upswing, like welcoming strange guests into his house. But once the door was open, everything else was free to leave as well. The secrets he kept buried in the dark places of his mind saw the daylight and ran for it.
I am having a nervous breakdown at fourteen, he thought as his mouth hung open, collecting tears.
The food fight ended. Nicole, Connor, and Amanita were suddenly speechless.
“Seth?” It was Connor. “Are you okay?”
No, Seth was not okay. He was as far from okay as anyone could be. He was tormented, lost, alone, and at fault for the greatest crime he’d ever known. “I didn’t scream because I was scared. Really fucking scared. I couldn’t even move. It was like being covered in cement. Why didn’t I at least scream? Why didn’t I at least get out bed and run to Mom and Dad’s room?”
“What’s he talking about?” Nicole whispered to Connor.
Seth cut off any reply. “That!” He pointed to the poster on the wall near the fridge. The same one he’d seen in the hallway. He’d tried to ignore it since coming in here but it just kept staring back at him, the one with the Joana look-a-like on it. “For all I know that’s her. She looks young enough to be her.”
“Oh crap,” Connor whispered.
“Who?” Amanita asked. “What’s wrong, Seth? You’re scaring me.”
And then it just came out, torrential, like the rainstorm outside. “Joana.”
“Who?”
“Joana was my sister. Is my sister. I don’t know. She must be dead. Oh God.”
“I’m still not following,” Nicole said.
Connor filled them in on the short version. “Seth’s little sister was kidnapped. They never found her.” The way he said it, it was like he was betraying his friend.
“Oh my God,” Amanita said. She put her hand up over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Seth snapped. “It’s not your fault. I was too fucking scared to save her.”
“You were just a kid,” Connor said.
“You know what, Connor, enough. I have to own up to this. I was a kid but I could have saved her. I was a fucking coward and I let my stupid fear overpower me. If I’d just gotten out of bed they would have had time to chase the guy. Joana might be here today, instead of…wherever she ended up.”
“How old were you?” Nicole asked.
“Six.”
“Well, shit, Seth, no six-year-old would be able to do anything. Connor’s right, you were too young.”
“A six-year-old should at least cry. At least make some noise. You should see the looks I still get from my parents. Not a day goes by all three of us don’t think of her, but only I get the accusatory looks. My parents want her back and they want me dead.”
“I’m sure they don’t blame you,” Nicole said, trying her best to sound maternal. She scooted closer to Connor and put her knees against his thigh.
“Yeah,” Connor said. He quickly looked at her knees then back at Seth. “Your parents are nice to you. I think you just dwell on it.”
“I dunno. Sometimes they deal with me. They started getting a little nicer since we moved here. I mean, Mom still checks the abducted child websites everyday, but we actually have conversations now and then.”
“They’re always buying you video games. It’s not like they don’t pay attention to your wants.”
“But is it just to get me out of their hair, or do they care about my happiness?”
“That’s why you were upset about the sword and the video game thingy,” Amanita said. “You think the gifts mean they like you now or something, but I bet they never hated you. It’s got to be hell on earth to have a child kidnapped, I’d be scatterbrained too.”
“Oh, they hated me. They missed my tenth birthday because they were at some rally for missing children. You know how that made me feel? To be alone on my birthday because of something I did to my parents? To be completely ignored for years?”
“Yeah, I kind of do.”
“Really. You know? I bet! You know, you don’t have to be a know-it-all bitch about everything.”
Amanita’s lips curled into a snarl. “What?! Guess what, Seth, you’re not the only one with problems. I DO know what it feels like because I’m ignored every day of my damn life. My parents pay way more attention to their kind bud and microbrews than they do to me.”
“Your parents smoke pot?” Connor asked, as if it were taboo to even say the word.
“Smoke it
?” Amanita replied. “They grow it. In our backyard. And not a day goes by that it’s not made clear to me what’s more important to them. They come home from work, they get high, they wake up, they get high. The weekend rolls around and they sit in front of the TV, get high and get drunk. Meanwhile their dirty old friends swing by for a bag and look me up and down like they’re gonna offer me money for a blowjob. I’m their fucking daughter and they don’t give a shit who looks at me like that. They don’t give two shits about me, so yes, Seth, I do know how it feels.”
“Then why do you dress like that?” Seth asked. “If you don’t like people looking at you.”
Amanita looked down at her wet shirt, saw her bra showing through it. When she looked up again she was crying. “I don’t know. Because I can. Because…I guess it’s better to get someone, anyone, to pay attention to me than be completely forgotten. I just want…someone…to…to say something nice to me for once. I don’t want to keep hearing about how I was a mistake. That’s what they say: ‘a mistake.’ They told me the truth one night when they were drunk and high, how I was the product of a broken condom and failed birth control. How they never wanted kids.” She stopped to wipe tears from her face, but more kept coming. “Fuck! I…I want to feel like love exists, you know. All day long I do what I want—I smoke and drink to show them it’s fucked up—and no one tells me no, and so I just do it now to feel numb. And I walk around dressed like this hoping someone will just whisk me away to a better place. And right now all I have to offer is my body.”
Nicole blanched. “Am!”
“Well it’s true. I figure if this can get me somewhere better in life then I’ll do it. I hate living there. I hate being around them. You know why they weren’t at home tonight? I bet they were at their friend’s house smoking it up. I want to be somewhere where people care. Like when I was little, and Dad bought me this dollhouse with these princess dolls. One of the only nice things he ever bought me. And I would just sit and play with that thing all day because it was better than my real house, better than my real life. In the dollhouse everyone loved everyone else. I had this weird OCD thing where all the princesses had to do everything together. If one ate, they all ate, if one went on a date with a prince, they all went. Like a real family. Not like mine, where I needed Dad to open a can of Spaghetti-Os for me so I could make my own dinner when I was seven, but he couldn’t because he was passed out drunk and Mom was asleep on the floor from smoking her brains out. Where I had to eat slices of Wonder Bread for dinner with patches of fuzzy green on them. I don’t even know how they maintain their fucking jobs, the loser stoners. I fucking hate them.” She put her head in her hands and continued to cry.
For once, Seth didn’t feel so alone. He felt bad for Amanita, and wanted to apologize for mocking her but also let her know that he understood. If there was ever a scenario he could empathize with, it was feeling invisible in front of one’s parents.
“That’s why I always go to your house, Nicole. I love your mom better. I wish she were mine.”
“She’s not all she’s cracked up to be.”
“Oh please. She’s a saint compared to my mom.”
“She’s okay. But she’s bitter and angry most of the day. She puts on a happy face for company, but behind closed doors she’s just pissed all the time. Why do you think she loves that dog so much? She hates my father for leaving, and she won’t date because she’s too bitter. So the dog is my new dad. And the dog is a girl.”
Amanita pushed her hair out of her eyes. Her face was puffy and red. “Well, you’re dad was a dick for leaving. I can sympathize with her.”
Nicole nodded. “Yeah. He was a dick. But I have good memories of him. That’s what sucks the most. The guy I remember was a good dad. I wish I knew why he left. I still have this crazy fantasy he’ll come see me someday, like drive up and say hi and have a legitimate explanation for leaving. Makes me hate my life too sometimes.”
“You’re life is better than mine, Nic. Deadbeat dads aside I’d trade with you in a heartbeat. Trade for your brains and normalcy, for your money.”
Nicole was looking into her own lap now. “I don’t want brains. And I only get spoiled because mom feels bad she had to raise me alone. I would give that up to have my dad back. Sometimes I wish I had what you have, a good body, something men would notice about me.”
“What are you talking about? You have a good look, you just need to maybe show a little more leg here and there. Those boys at the park today, they were kinda cute. Older and creepy, yes, but cute. You could have at least rolled your shorts up or bought a higher pair.”
“Actually I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You just gotta try it.”
“No. I can’t. Can we drop it?”
“I’m just saying, Nic, you’re a hottie. Right, Connor?”
Connor stuttered, subconsciously shifted his position. “Um, yeah. I mean, yes, I think you’re very attractive.”
“Girls don’t want to hear the word ‘attractive,’ Connor. Tell her she’s sexy.”
“Am!” Nicole threw a chip at her friend.
Connor stammered again but then got out a somewhat coherent string of words. “Sure, you’re totally sexy.”
Seth could feel his best friend blushing. He was blushing as well. Using the word ‘sexy’ was just awkward for them. It felt almost pornographic.
Am was almost giggling, but opting for a sly sneer instead. “Don’t you want to see her legs, Connor?”
“Am, knock it off!” Another chip hit Amanita in the shoulder.
Connor was smiling out of sheer embarrassment. The poor boy looked like he might run through a wall just to get out of this situation.
“Come on, show Connor your leg. I saw you guys kiss. He’s bound to see it sooner or later.”
“Am, seriously.” Nicole’s demeanor shifted. She was genuinely getting angry.
Finally Amanita relented. “Fine. It’s just a leg. I was just trying to tell you you’re a sexy bitch. You should flaunt it instead of covering up all the time.”
“I cover up for a reason.”
“Which is?”
And then Nicole was crying.
Jesus Christ we all need therapy, Seth thought.
Sunday, 1:35am
This was the part Nicole had nightmares about, the reason she hated it when Am pushed her to dress a little skimpier. Even her own mother questioned her choice of frumpy clothing. She began to sweat.
Maybe if it were just she and Am she would come clean about her legs. But Connor was here, and Connor was a different story. She wanted to keep him close. If he saw what was on her thighs he’d run to the hills. She needed a distraction to change the subject.
But then she felt Connor’s arm around her, and he pulled her close to him, like he’d done at her house. He was obviously nervous judging by the awkward way he moved closer, but he was good at putting just the right amount of weight against her to make her feel safe. “It’s okay, guys. Let’s just change the subject. She doesn’t need to talk about her legs or anything else she doesn’t want to.”
She appreciated that, wanted to kiss him again for his concern; he was here for her.
But will he be here for you if you lie to him. If you keep secrets. Things are different now. Now we have to be our true selves. It’s the only way to survive.
She knew her conscience was right, that Connor deserved to know all her secrets. But this felt like the wrong place. Seth and Amanita didn’t need to know. Then again, she was surprised Amanita didn’t know all ready. Keeping her habit from her friend for so long had grown exhausting.
And Seth. Seth was Seth. Harmless and just as fucked up.
She stood up and unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled them down to her knees, exposing her panties. She saw Seth’s eyes go wide, but as much as the boy looked embarrassed he did not turn away.
Connor looked as well, but she could tell he did not know what he was supposed to be seeing.
It was Amanita who
picked up the flashlight and shined it on Nicole’s thighs. Nicole took a breath and waited for the comments.
“Jesus Christ, Nic.”
Connor shifted around to get a better look. “Are those…scars?”
Nicole looked down now, took in her legs. Scars criss-crossed her thighs, stitched back and forth like lightning. Some were old, some were fresh. Half moon fingernail gouges and thin purple vines still gooey with blood.
Am got up close. “Did you do this?”
Nicole finally managed to stop crying. There was no use anymore. All three of her friend’s wore the same astonished look. “I cut myself,” she said.
“But why?” Connor asked. He seemed sincerely confused.
“I don’t know. Because it feels good. Because it feels like anything. Because there’s no grade involved. Because I don’t have to impress anyone with it or see looks of disappointment if it doesn’t meet anyone’s expectations. Because it’s kills my inner monologue and the pain is better than depression. Because I’m fucked up, that’s why.”
Slowly, Connor got closer, put his fingers on the scars. “It’s not that bad. Mine is worse.” He stuck his leg out and showed her the bandage she’d wrapped around it. It made her smile, his attempt to comfort her, but she was still sickened by the sight of her own flesh and the guilt behind her own self mutilation.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Am asked.
“I don’t know. How was I supposed to tell you? I can’t stop. It…it makes me able to sleep at night, you know. I don’t know why or how.”
Suddenly Am was up and was hugging Nicole. Her arms carried a weight different from Connor’s but satisfying nonetheless. The weight of friendship. “I’m sorry, Am.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I just. I don’t know how to be normal. I’m just a brain. I want to be like you. Carefree, rebellious, okay with my body. Not worry about pleasing Mom and school and…”
“Nicole, you’re my best friend. From now on when you feel like you need to do this you call me, okay? Look at me. Call me. We’ll deal with this together.”
Hissers Page 18