Finding Purgatory

by Kristina M Sanchez

  “I know what I’m doing, okay? Just give it up. Go back to your life. I know you don’t really want to be here.”

  Ani heard Shane suck in a breath and felt glad that, for once, Tori’s barbs weren’t aimed at her. It served him right for thinking the worst of her. Tori at least had a basis to her opinion. Shane didn’t know her from Eve.

  “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be here. This is my weekend, Tori. If you were just a job to me, I’d leave it until Monday to deal with,” he said, his voice mild.

  “Don’t fucking do that.” Tori’s voice became more staccato as she got more upset. “I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of all you assholes telling me how much you care and how you only want what’s best for me. Well, you know what? None of you know shit. You don’t know anything. Jeff and Stacey think they’re saints for stuffing as many idiot kids into their spare rooms as the state will let them. You think that’s what I need?”

  “It’s a means to an end. As long as you’re in the system, they—we—have a responsibility to you. You have certain rights, certain needs being seen to. If you leave the system, you can’t come back and my hands will be tied. I won’t be able to help you.”

  “I don’t want to come back. I’m done. And I don’t want your help. You don’t want to help me.”

  “I do want to help you.”

  “You don’t. Or whatever. Fine, maybe you want to help me, but I don’t want your help.”

  “But you want your sister’s help?”

  “I’m going to have a baby, okay?” The words came out in a rush. “What now? You want to help it, too? I don’t want you to help it the way you helped me.” The way she leaned on the word, her tone was thick with disgust. “I don’t want it anywhere near that system. Ani said she’d take the thing. And yeah, maybe she’ll abandon it like she abandoned me. I’ve thought about that. But I have to try. I have to . . .”

  Ani’s heart broke right along with Tori’s voice. Again, she wanted to protest, but she couldn’t. Earlier that day, hadn’t she considered telling Tori to forget it, that she couldn’t raise another baby when she’d lost her baby? Ani had always prided herself on her dependability, but even she wondered if she could be what Tori needed.

  “Oh, Tori,” Shane said, his voice soft. “Tell me what happened. Was it—”

  Tori’s laughter cut him off. It was not happy laughter, but a twisted, bitter sound. “Tell you what happened? So you can do what? Because it helped so much before.”

  “If someone hurt you—”

  “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not going back. Drop it.”

  In the silence that followed, Ani slipped into the house. She assumed their conversation was almost over. She didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, but she was also fairly certain she didn’t want to hear any more.

  There was much more to read between the lines than Ani had realized. She’d known the girl’s life hadn’t been easy. What that entailed, however, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about.

  Ani bowed her head and threaded her fingers through her hair. She pulled the strands tight, trying to get a handle on the guilt that threatened to squash her lungs flat.

  The last time she’d seen Tori, when she was little, her sister had been in the custody of Mr. and Mrs. Welch. They were a young, loving couple who’d doted on the girl. One or the other of them was always holding Victoria, playing with her, patiently indulging her four-year-old conversation. This was the image Ani had kept in her head whenever she started to wonder about her little sister.

  Something had gone wrong, but what?

  If Tori didn’t trust the system that raised her, it stood to reason she must have been mistreated in some way. Something had to have broken the innate trust of a child that the adults around her would take care of her.

  Shane’s first instinct upon learning of her pregnancy was that someone had hurt Tori. That thought hadn’t crossed Ani’s mind at all. Yes, Tori was upset, but the suggestion that the baby was a result of a rape was a horror she wasn’t prepared to consider.

  Ani put her hands over her eyes, trembling.

  She couldn’t assume. Assumption never helped anyone.

  The sound of the garage door opening made Ani jump. She wiped away any trace of the tears that had pricked but not spilled.

  Tori came through first, her face twisted into an angry snarl and one of her duffle bags over her shoulder. “Where’s my room?”

  Ani bit back the urge to snap at her rudeness. “There are two spare bedrooms at the end of the hallway upstairs. Take whichever one you want.”

  Not even bothering to acknowledge she’d spoken, Tori turned toward the entryway and the stairs. Her steps weren’t light. Each footfall made the floor creak and protest.

  Ani heard Shane’s more even steps behind her, but she didn’t turn until he cleared his throat. His expression was pinched, the skin around his eyes tight with sadness and obvious worry, but he tried for a friendly smile.

  “I’m sorry if there was any trouble,” Ani said. She wanted to yell at the man for some of the things he’d said about her, but she recognized that he didn’t know her. Only time would prove her good intentions. “I didn’t realize she didn’t tell anyone where she was going.”

  Shane shrugged, his smile a little more genuine. “All things considered, Tori’s been one of the easier kids I’ve worked with.” His lips twitched downward. “And she has a point. She is an adult. It’s her life.”

  “And you think she’s making a mistake being here.”

  He held her gaze for the space of a few heartbeats. His tone was quiet, his words measured when he spoke. “I think I’ve seen a lot of kids make decisions that cost them too much. Life is hard enough, and she’s so close to at least having a high school diploma. Maybe it’s not much, but it’s something.”

  Ani nodded. “She’ll get her diploma.”

  The man sighed and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve got nothing against you, Ms. Novak. I’m sure you have good intentions.”

  “But good intentions pave the road to hell.”

  He nodded. “And that girl has been through enough hell for one lifetime.”

  “What happened to her?” Ani asked.

  “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

  “You’re asking about the baby?” He nodded. “I have no idea. I was asking about everything else.”

  His lips turned down. “I can’t give you specifics.” He’d told her the same thing when they first met and she had asked what happened to the Welches, how had Tori ended up with someone else. “Let’s just leave it at a lot of things happened to her that shouldn’t have.”

  Another awkward silence descended on them before he pushed off the wall. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. “I don’t know that there’s much I can do to help you, but if you need to talk, I’m here to listen. Unofficially. As Tori’s friend.”

  Taking the card he offered, Ani nodded and stood to see him out. “Thank you.”

  Tori hopped back and forth between the two bedrooms several times before she decided which one she wanted.

  It was strange to have a choice. A lot of things were strange. She couldn’t remember ever having a room to herself, let alone a room as big as these were. She’d lived her entire life in one twin-sized bed or another. The bed she lay on now, staring up at the ceiling, was a queen.

  Space and privacy—what a novel situation.

  Tori took slow breaths as she tried to figure out why she felt so panicky.

  It was Shane’s fault she was irritated. She grabbed the huge snake she’d won earlier and cuddled the thing. She felt better with her head wedged between the two coils. Tori was already nervous about the whole situation with her sister, and Shane had made it worse.

  When Ani had suggested she move in, Tori’s shocked response had been to ask, “Ho
w do I know you aren’t a psycho who’s out to kill me?”

  She remembered the way her sister’s mouth had quirked up and down, like she wasn’t sure it was okay to smile. “Tori, if I was a murderer, I’d probably choose a target a little easier than you.”

  She’d been teasing, but it wasn’t untrue. Tori knew she was a pain in the ass. Almost all her foster parents had said so. But they got money to keep her, and Ani didn’t. Tori was an adult now. If Ani decided to seven-day her, there would be no Shane to figure out where to put her.

  “Tori?”

  Pushing the snake away, self-conscious about being caught in such a vulnerable state, Tori sat up. “What do you want?”

  Ani’s eyes narrowed, but she took a deep breath before she answered. “I just wanted to know if you were getting settled in okay. Do you need anything?”

  “You have a kid’s room,” Tori said, her tone flat. The two rooms at the end of the hall were both open, so of course Tori had been attracted to the other two rooms whose doors were closed. One of them was the master bedroom, but the other looked like a little girl’s paradise.

  Ani’s spine went rigid, and her patient expression faded away. When she spoke again, her voice had an edge to it. “We can still go out for dinner, if you want.”

  Tori felt a rush of irritation. If she had to deal with a kid coming around, she had a right to know about that. Ani hadn’t said anything about having a kid. “You’re not going to tell me about the room?”

  “No.” Ani seemed pissed. “Are you going to tell me about your baby’s father?”

  Tori gritted her teeth so hard, she was surprised they didn’t chip. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk about that room.”

  Tori turned those words over even as she stewed. “Are you telling me that if I talk about the baby’s father, you’ll tell me about that room?”

  Her sister looked taken aback. “I might,” she said after a moment. “It’s possible.”

  Tori was pissed that everyone kept trying to drag the baby’s father into things when she would just as soon forget he existed at all. “You’re being a real bitch to me right now. After what you did to me, I think the least you could do is tell me why you have a kid’s room in your house.”

  For a second, Ani’s glare faltered. She looked guilty, and Tori was pleased at the pained look on her face. Then her sister’s eyes narrowed. Her voice was calm when she spoke. “If someone told you people stop being assholes just because they’re sorry or because you’ve been through a lot, you have been misinformed. That’s not how life works.”

  “You’re just looking for an excuse to make how you treat me okay.”

  “No, you’re just looking for an excuse to get what you want. I’m sorry for what I did when I was nineteen. It was cruel and careless,” her sister said, enunciating each word. “But that doesn’t mean I owe you anything you want. I don’t know what’s happened to you, Tori. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but you’re not the only one who’s suffered.”

  Tori scoffed. “What do you know about suffering?”

  “I know suffering doesn’t mean people will stop being assholes to you. Do you know what happened the day after I got out of the hospital after my husband and baby died? I went to the grocery store, and I was a little spaced out.” She laughed, the sound making Tori feel sick to her stomach, it was so twisted. “I was standing there, staring at these cookies my little girl loved, that I didn’t let her get the last time we were out shopping together. And this guy, maybe he’d been trying to get my attention, I don’t know, but he shoved me and told me to get the hell out of the way and stop blocking the aisle like a dumb bitch.”

  Her words cut off, her face flushed an angry red as she tried to catch her breath.

  For once, Tori didn’t know what to say.

  “Your husband and baby died?” Her voice was thin, her stomach twisting with horror for what she’d said.

  Ani sucked in a breath, staring up at an indistinct point on the wall. “I guess you did get what you wanted.” Her words were toneless and tired. “Yes. They died. And that’s why I have a little girl’s room and no little girl.”

  With that, she turned on her heel, leaving Tori alone.

  Chapter 6: Good Enough

  Tori had dragged her chicken nugget through the pool of barbeque sauce so many times, her paper plate was a mess of streaks. The school cafeteria was the usual cacophony of meaningless bullshit.

  Calculus sucks. Mrs. LaRoche is fine as hell. Guess whose boyfriend was seen flirting with so and so, can you believe it?

  She dropped the nugget on the plate and rubbed at an invisible spot on her chest, as if she could massage away the ache, loosen the sudden tightness in her lungs.

  The flip of numbers from seventeen to eighteen could not have been more jarring. It felt insane to be in her high school cafeteria, to sit amongst the other students, listening to the drama that constituted life and death in the teenage set. She felt an itch on her skin—the realization she had an entire life to plan and no firm ground beneath her.

  Out of breath and dizzy, Tori pressed her hands to the tabletop. It hit her like a sucker punch to the gut that she could no longer blame her foster parents or the system when things went wrong. From here on out, it would all be on her. Panic began to encroach. It closed off her lungs and made her heart race.

  A tray slammed down on the empty spot at the table next to her. She gasped as she jumped, and when she looked up, she was staring at her former foster sister’s furious face.

  Ariel shoved her. “What the hell is your problem, Vicky?”

  Anger, Tori’s oldest, most steadfast companion, had her on her feet and in Ariel’s face in a heartbeat. “Get the fuck away from me.”

  “Great job with the drama, bitch. My parents were dealing with your bullshit all weekend.” Ariel pushed forward so Tori had to stumble back.

  “Don’t give me that shit.” Tori stepped right back into the other girl’s personal space, determined not to give her another inch. “They always wanted me gone. You always wanted me gone. What’s wrong now? You miss me?” She made a sarcastic face. “Aww. That’s so sweet.”

  “What. Ever. Fucking psycho.”

  Ariel made a move to walk away but ran her shoulder into Tori’s as she did. Tori saw red. She whirled, grabbed Ariel by the arm, and shoved her backward.

  The next half hour or so was a blur. Both girls went at each other to the hollers of their fellow students. They were pulled apart by teachers and dragged to the principal’s office. Tori was still high on adrenaline and fury when the principal lectured them. She only heard every other word. She seethed silently and muttered, “Yes, ma’am,” where she was expected to. Principal Dunn looked flustered when Tori told her that she didn’t have to bother calling Ariel’s parents for her. Tori was an adult and under no one’s control.

  “Well, this is certainly not the way an adult should behave.”

  In addition to detention, they were sent home for the day. Tori couldn’t resist snickering at Ariel who had to wait for her parents. “Don’t worry. They can’t seven-day you no matter how much they want to. They’re legally required to keep you.”

  The parting shot left its mark. Tori signed herself out and walked out the door, leaving Ariel glowering in her seat.

  Once she was out in the California sunshine, Tori felt a little more rational. She hated when anger got the best of her. Not that she minded the actual physical aftereffects of a fight—she’d definitely had worse than the dull ache at her ankle and the sore spot on her arm—but she was embarrassed.

  Well, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. Ariel had always gotten under her skin, and it had been a stressful weekend.

  Tori wandered for a few minutes, not sure what she wanted to do with the next two and a half hours before Ani would be back to get her. The public library was a few blocks away. She had a library card b
ecause it had been easier to do her reports and research there than to take her chances with the Everett’s one computer. It had been a while since she’d checked her e-mail. She didn’t expect to have received anything, but it was a way to pass the time.

  Almost as soon as she logged on to her Gmail, Tori regretted it. The message sitting right on top, sent on her birthday, was from the one person she’d been trying hardest not to think about.

  Tori glared at the simple subject line while her heart twisted and her throat got tight. She moved the mouse, selected the message, and went to hit the delete button.

  She hesitated.

  And opened the e-mail.

  From: Raphael Diego

  To: Victoria Kane

  Subject: Merry Birthday

  Hey, Tor.

  Can you believe today is finally here? I remember my eighteenth birthday. I was so damn impressed with myself. But you were there, weren’t you? Fifteen years old and looking at me like I was the biggest idiot for buying porn at the gas station when I had my own computer in my room. Who pays for porn? The guy who can do it legally for the first time, obviously. And cigarettes! I smoked the whole damn pack that first week in public places just because I could.

  So here’s a little wisdom from an old man with three long years of experience with this adulthood thing:

  1. People always told me that I shouldn’t be too eager to get out of high school, I’d just want to go back. People are stupid. Who in their right mind would want to go back to high school? I couldn’t stand being around teenagers even when I was one.

  You are, as always, the exception.

  2. Well, I don’t have a number two. Buying porn and cigarettes is overrated. Voting is pretty cool. Other than that, I don’t think I have anything figured out. But whatever. Not a lot of people do.

  Anyway. I hope you’re doing something fun. Today I’m going to do what I said we would do together. You remember, I hope. If you come, cool. If not, well, I’m not going to say I understand, because I don’t. I really don’t.