CHAPTER 32
ABBY DECEMBER 15
“Do you want me to walk you in?” Mom asks me as I sit with my hand on the door handle, afraid to open the car door and get out.
If you thought the first day of high school was bad, try going back after you ran away with some guy you met online who turned out not to be the loving person you thought he was, but was actually a creep and a perv who was chatting up lots of other girls.
I feel breakfast coming up the back of my throat.
“Can’t I stay home another day? I really don’t think I’m ready.”
“Honey, you’ve already missed over a week of school and the end of the marking period is coming up. Maura said you should try to get back into a routine. We’ve talked to the counselor at school. You can always go see her if … things get … difficult.”
Difficult. Everything is difficult at the moment. Sleeping is difficult because I keep having horrible dreams. Waking up is difficult because I can’t sleep. Looking in the mirror is difficult because I hate the person I see. But the worst part is seeing the reflection of myself in my father’s eyes. That’s worse than any mirror.
When I make no move to get out of the car, Mom says, “Come on, Abby, let me just walk you inside.”
“Mom, I’m in high school, not nursery school, okay? I can manage to walk up the stairs by myself.”
She gets that hurt, “I was only trying to help” look and I feel bad. I spend pretty much all of my time right now feeling bad.
I squeeze her hand. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be okay.”
Mom kisses my cheek and whispers, “Good luck.” She tells me she’ll be there to pick me up after school. She’s rearranged her whole work schedule so that she can be my personal chauffeur/jailor. My parents don’t trust me to be unsupervised anywhere. I guess I can’t really blame them. But I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed my freedom until it was gone.
Heart pounding and stomach churning, I open the car door and get out. I hear someone go, “OMG! There’s that girl, Abby Johnston! You know, the one who …”
I don’t hear the rest because the voice drops to an undertone. But I can fill in the blanks for myself: Was stupid enough to run off with an Internet predator. Was foolish enough to believe he was in love with her. Was such a moron that she sent him revealing pictures of herself that he went and posted on a child porn site. Was drunk and ended up having her virginity taken in what is now a downloadable online video.
More than anything I want to dive back into the car and tell Mom to drive me home so I can go to bed and bury myself under the comforter. But Mom has to get to work. I’ve already screwed up everyone’s life enough. So I slam the car door behind me and force myself to start walking up the steps toward the front door of school, running a gauntlet of whispers and staring eyes. No one talks to me. They just talk about me. I guess I’ve really made a name for myself here at Roosevelt High.
I keep my eyes on the ground as I walk down the hall to my locker, trying to wrap myself in indifference, to tell myself that none of this matters. But it doesn’t work anymore. It’s not like I’m going to be able to go home and talk to Luke about my crummy day at school. He’s being held on remand in some prison upstate. And his name isn’t even Luke. It’s Edmund. Eddie? Ed? I wonder what he called himself when he talked to all the other girls he was chatting with. The other girls he was telling how beautiful and special they were. The other stupid idiots like me.
“Abby! How are you?”
Gracie swoops across the hall and envelops me in a hug.
“I’m so glad you got back safely,” she says. “We were so worried about you. Faith was a complete basket case.”
I was kind of jealous of Grace before, but the fact that she’s being nice to me now, when I’m a social leper, brings me close to tears.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to walk with you to your class or anything?”
“You won’t think I’m totally lame?”
She gives me a sympathetic smile.
“No, I won’t think you’re totally lame. This has got to be pretty awful, huh?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak without bursting into tears.
“Come on. Let’s get your stuff out of your locker, then I’ll take you to homeroom.”
She’s as good as her word. Not only that, during homeroom she talks to Faith and the two of them come to walk me to my next class. And the one after. It’s not like having them on either side of me stops people from staring and talking and whispering. It’s not like I don’t hear people pretending to cough, but really saying “slut” after I walk by. But at least I don’t feel totally alone, like I did when I was walking into school. Their friendship feels like some kind of … protection.
“Aren’t you guys going to get in trouble for being late to class?” I ask them.
“Gracie went to talk to the principal,” Faith says. “He gave us both passes.”
I guess Faith was right about Gracie all along. I really underestimated her. I really underestimated them both.
“Thanks, you guys … it … really means a lot to me.”
I’m doing reasonably okay until it’s time for science and I realize that I’m going to see Billy. It’s bad enough that all these other people think that I’m a stupid, crazy slut, but Billy … I’m not sure I can face seeing the disgust in his eyes.
“I don’t want to go to science, Faith. Maybe I can pretend I’m sick and go to the nurse.”
“What, because of Billy?”
“I don’t want him to hate me. It’s bad enough that everyone else does.”
Gracie opens her mouth like she wants to say that everyone doesn’t hate me, but I’m looking her straight in the eye so she shuts it. There’s no point lying.
“Abs, you shouldn’t worry about Billy,” Faith says. “He really cares about you. You should have seen him when you were missing. He was really freaked out. And not just because the police went to his house and asked him questions, either.”
“The police questioned Billy?”
“Well, yeah. Because you’d gone out on a date with him and stuff. And because he was one of the last people to see you before you disappeared.”
“That just gives him more reason to hate me.”
“But he doesn’t. That’s the point,” Faith says. “Just go to class. You’re going to have to see him sooner or later. And like I said, he cares about you.”
Unlike Luke, who just said he did but lied. Like he lied about everything else.
People stare at me when I walk into science. But then everyone turns away like they’ve got something really important to do. I’m not sure which is worse — everyone staring, or knowing that they’re desperately trying not to. I wonder if things will ever be normal again, if I’ll just be plain old Abby who nobody notices.
I sit down in my usual seat at the lab table and pretend to look at my notes as intently as everyone else is pretending that everything is normal in my life. I hear the sound of Ms. Forcier’s heels tip-tapping over in my direction and I feel her hand on my shoulder.
“Welcome back, Abby,” she says just loud enough for me to hear. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
I’m afraid to look up at her, in case I see judgment in her eyes, so I keep my eyes lowered. She puts some handouts on my desk.
“Here’s what you missed while you were gone. The midterms are next week, so you’ve got some catching up to do. Let me know if you need any extra help.”
“Okay.”
“I can help, too.”
Billy. I’m afraid to turn and face him.
He cares about you, Faith said.
So did Luke. But he lied.
But Luke was really Edmund.
And Billy isn’t Luke.
I turn and face Billy, expecting to see the kind of look I’ve been seeing in the hallway: the scorn, the sneering, the judging. But there’s none of that. It’s just … Billy. Billy, with a tentative smile, like he’s just worried
about how I’m feeling.
“Hey, Abby,” he says.
“Hey, Billy.”
“It’s about time you got back, you slacker. It sucked having to do the labs by myself.”
I can’t believe he’s joking with me like nothing happened. Like everything’s normal. Like I’m normal. Doesn’t he realize that I’m … this stupid person who did this awful thing? But hearing him tease me like this feels like the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Because, for a second or two, I almost feel like old Abby again. Enough that I risk joking back.
“Well, it’s about time you did some of the work, Fisher. Typical guy, expecting the woman to carry the load all the time.”
That gets me a real smile, just as Ms. Forcier starts class.
I’m taking notes and trying to concentrate on everything she’s saying, because I know I’ve missed stuff while I’ve been gone, but I’m really aware of Billy. Then I see his hand edging toward mine out of the corner of my eye, passing me a note.
U scared the crap outta me, Abby. Do me a fave and stick around, k?
I’m not glad I scared him. But I am glad that even though I’m … who and what I am now, he still wants me to stick around. But will he be so accepting if he finds out everything? Probably not. So I might as well enjoy this for the short time that it lasts.
K. Will stick. Like glue.
He passes the note back.
Glue too messy. Double-sided tape maybe?
I can’t hide a smile, but right then Ms. Forcier turns around from the board so I tuck the note in my pocket and turn my full attention back to science.
Billy walks with me out into the hall, where I wait for Faith and Gracie to escort me to math.
“How come you’re not running away?” he asks. “Usually you’re in such a hurry to get to your next class.”
I flush, thinking of all the times I used that excuse because I didn’t want him to ask me out again. Now I wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed still long enough to listen to what he had to say. Maybe I would have gone out with him again. Maybe I wouldn’t have become so obsessed with Luke. Maybe I would have “made better choices” as my parents would say. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there’s an answer to that question. But where I live, I’m stuck with who I am and what I did, and I have to live with it. I just hope it’s not forever.
“I’m waiting for Faith … and Grace. They’re going to walk me to my next class.”
“What, you’ve been gone a week and you already forgot the way?” he says, a teasing light in his eyes.
Can’t he see the looks? Doesn’t he see how everyone is staring at me like I’m some putrid creature that just crawled out from under a very dirty rock?
“No … it’s just … well …” I can’t look him in the eye.
I see Grace and Faith coming down the hall and wish they’d hurry so I wouldn’t have to explain. It feels so good to pretend to be Real Abby again with Billy that I don’t want to shatter the illusion, because I know that once it’s gone, it’s gone, and it’ll be back to my suckfest life of “living with the consequences of my actions.”
“Wait —” Billy says, eyes narrowing. “Are you taking crap about what happened? Are people hassling you?”
Well, duh.
“What do you think? That I’m being welcomed back with open arms and smiles and a parade?”
“But —”
“Hi, Abs!” Faith says. “What’s up, Billy? Sorry to interrupt, but we have to get Abby to her next class.”
“Abby, we need to talk,” Billy says.
I’m not sure I want to talk, because I’m afraid of what he’s going to say to me. But I guess I kind of owe it to him.
“Okay. But you’ll have to call me. I’m not allowed to IM at the moment for —” I feel myself blushing. “Well, for obvious reasons.”
He blushes, like the subject embarrasses him, too.
“Yeah. Well … I’ll call you tonight.”
Gracie and Faith don’t say anything until we turn the corner of the hallway and then they freak out on me and are all, OMG, Abby!
“So what’s going on with you and Billy?” Gracie asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing’s going on with me and anyone, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. It’s just …”
“Just what?” Faith says.
“It’s just … he teased me.”
“That jerk! How could he be so insensitive?” Grace says.
“No! Not like that. Like in a good way. Like I was still me.”
I can see they don’t get it. Faith’s got that little crease between her eyebrows.
“But, Abby, you are still you,” she says. “Of course you are.”
They don’t understand. They can’t understand because they don’t know what happened in the motel room. They don’t know about the pictures and the video. They don’t know that I have to wonder every minute of every hour if some creepy guy somewhere is looking at pictures of me naked, or downloading that video of Luke doing it to me. They don’t understand how that changes you.
We get to the door of my math class.
“Faith. I can’t tell you how much I wish I were the same me.” My voice catches. “But I’m not. And I don’t think I ever will be again.”
Well, one good thing’s come out of this. Nick Peters actually remembers my name.
“Hey, Abby,” he says, flashing me his perfect teeth when I walk into class. “Welcome back.”
Amanda gives me this fake look of concern.
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“Um, thanks. I’m fine,” I lie.
I sit down and focus on the board, trying to ignore the stares of my classmates.
“You look great, Abby,” Nick says. “Really fine.”
The guy sitting next to him snickers.
I don’t get it. Nick’s never said anything about my looks before. He’s never even paid me much attention other than to copy my homework. I glance back at him briefly. He’s looking at me intently and grinning.
“Uh, thanks.”
I turn around and take out my pencil.
“Slut!”
It’s said quietly and as a half cough, but it’s definitely the word. Someone sitting near me. I think it’s Amanda. I’m afraid to turn around and look, especially because Mr. Evans is starting class.
Tears well up in my eyes but I can’t let them fall. Instead, I take myself away, so it’s as if I’m watching the scene in a movie and real Abby is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t be hurt by the sting of their words or the scorn of their glances.
“Whore!”
The same low half cough, but this time it’s from the other side and a guy. I feel sorry for the girl sitting in the math class, but she’s not me. I’m just an observer. The comments go on for ten minutes or so, until Mr. Evans remarks that there seems to be a lot of coughing going on and offers cough drops to anyone with a tickly throat. That shuts them up for a while, and lets the girl concentrate until the bell rings to signal that class is over.
Nick nudges me as I’m getting my books together and passes me a folded piece of paper with a smile and a wink. I still don’t get why he’s suddenly being so nice to me, especially now.
Slowly, I unfold the note and when I see what’s on the paper I’m drawn back into myself by the horror of it. I hear snickers and laughter and the half-coughing “slut” and “whore” but I’ve shrunk so far back within myself that it sounds like it’s coming from a great distance. Staring straight ahead, being sure not to make eye contact with anyone, I crumple the paper in the palm of my hand and walk to the classroom door. Faith and Grace aren’t there. Instead of waiting for them, I run the gauntlet of staring eyes and whispering mouths until I get to the nurse’s office, where I tell her I have an awful migraine and I need to go home.
Because on the paper Nick passed me was one of Luke’s pictures of me naked. Because now I realize that everybody knows.
CHAPTER 33
LILY DECEMBER 15, EVENING
They’re shouting again. I turn up my iPod so I won’t have to hear Dad asking Abby over and over how could she, how could she go off with that man and Abby crying and crying and Mom telling Dad to shut up and leave Abby alone. It’s like Dad’s obsessed with it — which if you ask me is sick, but nobody is asking me anything. It’s like I don’t exist. Except Mom says I have to go to therapy, too. We all have to go so we get over the “posttraumatic stress,” blah blah. I don’t know why I have to go. I’m the only normal person in this house. You don’t see me running off with pervs I met online, do you?
But no, just because Abby was an idiot, I’m getting pulled along on this crazy train, too.
And school sucks because of her. Everyone’s been looking at me like I’m some kind of freak ever since my sister was on the news; first as an AMBER Alert and then when the police arrested Edmund/Luke/Pervert Face/Whateverhisnameis. Whatever social cred I had is shot. Permanently.
It’s not that I’m not happy Abby’s home safe and everything. I am. Even though life has been one great big suckfest ever since she got back — I’m like the Invisible Kid in this house while everyone focuses on Abby, Abby, Abby.
But I wouldn’t trade places with Abby, not for a zillion dollars. Dad can barely look at her, and when he does he has this expression on his face like he just stepped in a big pile of dog poop. It makes me feel bad, so imagine what it feels like for Abby. Mom’s afraid to let Abby out of her sight. She even changed her work schedule so she can drive Abby to school and pick her up. Guess who still has to take the bus?
Everyone’s walking on eggshells all the time, trying not to make things worse, except for times like now when Dad can’t help himself and he starts off on Abby about how and why, and then the whole cycle starts over again.
The weird thing is, Abby’s not fighting back like she would have before. She just sits there and takes it like a rag doll. It’s so not the pain-in-the-butt sister I normally know and hate.
I hear her come up the stairs, crying, and the door to her room closes. It doesn’t even slam like it used to. And that’s what makes me want to go to her, even though it’s probably stupid, Lily, stupid.
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