Embittered Ruby

by Nicole O'Dell

  Carmen needed a moment to figure things out, so she sat on the top step.

  She had to get out of there. What could she do? No matter how she did it, she’d be in trouble. If she pounded away on the door, someone would come, but it might be Ben. If not him, maybe a staff member or one of the girls, and then word would get around that she’d been prowling around outside. If she went back through the passage and tried to use the front entrance, which Ben hadn’t locked, she’d almost surely bump into him.

  Carmen had no choice. She’d have to knock and face whatever happened.

  Tap. Tap. If it were possible to whisper a knock, Carmen managed to do it several times. But no one came. Maybe no one was out there. She’d wait until she heard voices or footsteps.

  Minutes went by and turned into what felt like hours.

  Was that laughter? Carmen pressed her ear against the door and wished for supersonic hearing. Yes. The sound was definitely laughing.

  She carefully knocked loud enough that they would hear her, but quietly enough that hopefully no one else would.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “I think so. Was it knocking?”

  “Do you think?”

  “We could look.”

  Yes. Great idea. Look. Carmen knocked two more times a bit harder.

  “Here, help me open it.” Sounded like feet scrambling on the floor just outside.

  Should she talk to them? They hadn’t spoken to her. Kind of odd the girls weren’t worried about who they were letting in.

  The space opened up to bright light shining around two smiling faces. Carmen’s rescuers. She recognized one as the beautiful black goddess who’d visited her church. What was her name?

  The other girl—compact like a gymnast and blond—was a complete stranger. “Carmen, I presume? What on earth are you doing out here?”

  “Um…just checking things out?” Carmen shrugged. Would these girls turn her in?

  “Hey. I’m Tricia, this is Kira.”

  Carmen let her eye adjust to the light. Ah. Tricia. That was it.

  Carmen dusted a hand off on her already-soiled jeans and reached it out. “Carmen.”

  The girls nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of their mouths. “We’re your new roommates.”

  Laughter bubbled to the surface and spewed over.

  Kira’s ponytail bobbed. “Yeah, it’s a really odd predicament to get yourself in on your first day here. Whatever possessed you to go in there?”

  Carmen shrugged. “Just adventurous, I guess.”

  “Well, you’d better get back up to the room and clean up before someone finds out.” Tricia fought against the laughter.

  “You mean they don’t know?” But would they soon? “Nah. Kira and I got back from skiing and found one girl sleeping on the bottom bunk and the other nowhere to be found. That’s almost never a good sign.” She chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever found someone out here. Finding and using the phone is the typical new-girl scheme.” Tricia began to walk toward the bedroom stairs.

  Carmen followed closely. She might actually get away with her foolishness. “So you’re my roommates?” Great first impression. She’d have to be a lot more careful from now on.

  “In the flesh.” Kira flashed a million-dollar smile. “We’ll get along fine, I’m sure. Only…”

  “Only what?” What could Carmen have done already? Well, besides the obvious.

  Kira looked at Tricia and jerked her head back toward Carmen. “Ask her.”

  “That girl sleeping up in the room right now, have you heard her snoring? It’s like a train rumble.” Tricia grimaced. “I mean, I don’t want to gossip or be mean, but I’ve got to get my sleep.”

  “We’ll figure something out.” Kira smiled and nodded as a girl passed them looking horrified at Carmen’s appearance. “In the meantime, we need to get her back to the room so she can pay the shower a nice long visit before dinner.”

  “Oh, and about dinner.” Tricia grinned as she held open the door to the staircase up to the dorms. “You can sit with us.”

  Oh great.

  “Feel better?” Tricia looked up from her magazine when Carmen let the steam out of the bathroom.

  “Yeah. I was pretty grimy.”

  “I’ll bet you were.” Kira winked.

  Carmen slicked as much moisture from her long, thick hair as possible. There was no way it would dry before dinner, even if she pulled out the blow dryer. She twisted it into a knot and secured it with a giant claw clip.

  Leila bustled around her dresser and bed area, still wearing her travel clothes. Come to think of it, her sleeping clothes, too. And where were all her bags? Was that why she made it to the van so fast? No suitcase?

  “Looking pretty homey over here.” Carmen touched the plastic flower leis hanging from the drawer handles and picked up what she assumed was a family photo. She squinted at the faces—no way those super tiny, gorgeous Koreans were Leila’s family. The black-haired woman and two teenage girls wore bikinis—and deserved to—and the man was muscular and tanned. They held absolutely no resemblance to Leila at all. “Who are these people? Friends from Hawaii?”

  “Let me see.” Kira plucked the frame out of Carmen’s hand.

  “Uh. No. That’s my mom, dad, and sisters.” Leila busied herself arranging her pillows.

  Kira’s eyebrows rose two inches as she lifted the picture closer to her face.

  Ah. Wong. Adopted. That made sense. But how could Carmen ask for more info? Everything she thought to say came off potentially offensive.

  Carmen: Are you adopted?

  Leila: Why, do I look adopted?

  Or, Carmen: Wow, your family is really beautiful.

  Leila: Most of us.

  Or, Carmen: Want to talk about it? Leila: Talk about what? How imperfect I am in a perfect family?

  Probably best to let Leila bring up whatever she wanted to talk about and then leave the rest alone. Though that did nothing to quell Carmen’s curiosity.

  An awkward silence blanketed the space. What was a safe topic? “So I hear we’re having meatloaf tonight.”

  Leila shot Carmen a quizzical look.

  Tricia nodded. “I can take a hint. Ready for dinner?”

  Okay, now what to do about the seating arrangements?

  “We can all sit together.” Kira practically bounced to the door. “Let’s go.”

  Leila grinned. “Sounds good.”

  They followed half a dozen other girls down the stairs toward the dining room. Conversations and laughter filled the hallways. Everyone seemed so happy. If the staff handed each of the girls a little paper cup filled with pills, Carmen would know what was up. Happy pills. She wasn’t about to get medicated like that. Hopefully that wasn’t the case. But there had to be an explanation for why everyone was so cheery.

  Oh, except for that girl up ahead. Carmen watched the lone figure slough along to dinner, looking down the whole way. She picked up a tray, set it on the metal bars in front of the serving counter, and slid it past the main course, past the veggies and potatoes, past the drinks, and stopped in front of the pudding and Jell-O. Her black, stringy hair hung in front of her eyes as she selected two red Jell-Os and two vanilla puddings. Without making eye contact with anyone, she selected a seat in the back of the room and sat alone with her back to the rest of the room.

  Carmen pushed her tray along the rails and accepted portions of each item offered. Marilyn’s famous meatloaf? Carmen would be the judge of that. Unless she’d cracked some eggs in there, dumped in mounds of bread crumbs, and added hunks of onion and green pepper, its only hope was moderate. But time would tell.

  The dessert offerings were amazing. They rivaled the selection at any Old Country Buffet. Carmen chose a frosted brownie then pulled the middle handle on the ice-cream machine for some swirl.

  “Isn’t that cool? It’s new.” Tricia bypassed the desserts completely.

  “Yeah, it’s awesome. I’ll have to watch it though. These dessert
s will be my downfall.”

  Tricia led the way to a table by the windows. “Oh, trust me, I know.”

  Oh right. Tricia was the model with the eating disorder. “But you’re so thin. You can’t possibly struggle with weight.”

  “I go up and down like everyone else. I’ve had a really hard time with it over the months and years, but I believe I’ve finally gotten it under control.”

  Kira and Leila slid into the seats opposite Carmen and Tricia.

  “The ice-cream machine was a donation from a friend of mine—Olivia. I’ll have to tell you about her. She graduated from here a little over three months ago.”

  That story could wait. Carmen already had enough questions about the people she could see. Her gossipy brain would go on overload if she wasn’t careful. “So what’s her story?” Carmen tipped her head at the sad Goth girl.

  “No one knows for sure.” Kira’s eyes clouded. “She won’t talk to anyone. She’s been here for about a month and does nothing but what you’ve already seen.”

  “You mean she won’t tell her story? Or she won’t talk at all?”

  Tricia shook her head. “She doesn’t speak at all.”

  “Ben allows that?” Carmen would have thought he’d require more interaction.

  “Sure. She does nothing wrong. She shows up to everything on time. She seems to listen to the teachers and even participates in her own way in prayer times.” Kira shrugged. “So I guess Ben believes she’ll come around in time.”

  Another one for the mystery book.

  “Speaking of Ben, here he comes with Donna.” Tricia scooted her chair over to make room at the table.

  Who was Donna? A blonde who looked like a fitness guru approached the table. What was it with all these gorgeous and perfectly fit women around here? Almost enough to make Carmen diet. And Carmen never dieted.

  “Hi there, ladies. Mind if we join you for a minute?” Ben grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and pulled it over for Donna, who perched on the end of it. He yanked one over for himself and straddled it backward. “Carmen, I’d like you to meet Donna. Donna, Carmen. You’ll be spending a lot of time together during the coming months, so I hope you’ll find some time to get acquainted before your first counseling session on Monday.”

  Oh. Ben had mentioned that Carmen would have a counselor. Would she be expected to, like, open up to her or what? How could she meet someone and then no more than a few days later get all personal with her? That would be weird.

  “Leila, your counselor will be Tammy. She’s away for the weekend, so you’ll meet her on Monday.”

  Leila shrugged. “Sounds good.”

  Were those the first words Leila had spoken since they sat down to eat? Carmen would have to make sure she drew her out more. Though that probably wasn’t her job. Maybe she should worry more about herself and less about everyone else’s problems.

  Nah. It was way more fun to meddle.

  “Time to get up for prayer.” Tricia’s syrupy voice grated on Carmen’s last nerve.

  “It’s seven thirty in the morning. There’s no way I’m getting up to go pray.” Leave her toasty covers and her soft pillow in exchange for a stone-cold floor in a cavernous house? How could they expect her to do that? Why would they even want to? If Carmen ran this place, she’d make everyone sleep in and start the day at noon. And then she would, too.

  “You have to. It’s required.” Kira stretched the neck of her sweatshirt to fit over her ponytail.

  “What happens if I don’t go?” She didn’t even claim to know God. Who would she pray to anyway?

  “I’m not sure.” Kira seemed to think it over. “I don’t think anyone’s actually tried that one.”

  “Watch me. What can they do to me? I’m the new girl.” Carmen rolled over and pulled a pillow down over her face. She lay huddled in her bed, clutching her blankets while the other three got ready and left for the prayer room.

  Right on time, the door clicked into place, and the room grew silent.

  Now that was what Carmen was talking about. Peace and quiet. Privacy. She flopped onto her belly and pulled her covers over her head. Sleep. Blessed sleep.

  Voices. Laughter.

  Carmen strained to make out the sounds. She rubbed her eyes. How long had she slept, and who was in the room? Were they back from prayer time already? That was the problem with sleeping—it was impossible to enjoy while in the middle of doing it. Then it was over.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Tricia’s voice came through the blanket. “You’d better get up. They’re coming for you.”

  Chapter 24

  Who’s they?” Her eyes didn’t want to open. More sleep.

  “Donna, probably. They weren’t at all happy you didn’t show up to prayer.” Kira chuckled. “You should have seen their faces. I don’t think they’ve been that blatantly blown off before.”

  “I didn’t blow anyone off. I just slept.” All right, all right. Sleep time over. “What can they do to me, really?” Carmen pulled herself up and jumped down from her bed then reached up and smoothed the covers. They’d like that she made her bed. Should she open her Bible on the desk and pretend she’d been having her own private study time? No, they’d see right through her. And Kira, Tricia, and Leila would know she lied.

  Carmen moved toward the bathroom—what if she stayed in there for a while? Would they eventually tire of waiting for her to come out? Or better yet, maybe they’d think she was sick. She stepped up to the left sink beside Kira, who stared in the mirror applying makeup. “So, be honest. Was it awful?”

  Kira’s eyebrows furrowed. “Was what awful?”

  “You know. Quiet time. Prayer time. Whatever they call it here.” Carmen put toothpaste on her toothbrush.

  “There’s nothing horrible about it at all. It’s a wonderful way to start the day. You’ll see.” Kira smiled.

  Right. That’s what they wanted her to say. No teenager would welcome that early call to prayer. Unless they lived in India.

  “Actually, I used to feel the same way about it as you do. I used to try to find ways to doze. It was fine until I started snoring.” She laughed. “I’ll never forget the time I was out like a light and woke up to find every single person in the room staring at me.”

  “Did you get in trouble for nodding off?”

  “Not really. I mean, it’s not condoned, but it happens sometimes. I guess the goal is that eventually each girl will have a deep-enough relationship with God that she’ll naturally want the time for communicating with Him, and that desire will keep her awake.”

  “But what if I’m not ready for that? If I don’t have that relationship or want that communication? Why can’t I sleep in?” She spoke around the toothbrush in her mouth.

  “Excuse me.” Donna stood in the doorway. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  Right. Of course she didn’t. How much had she heard? Carmen spit into the sink.

  “What you just described—you know, the state of your relationship with God—makes this the worst time to skip out on prayer time. Which we know you’d do—anyone would—if given the choice, which is why we don’t give you the option.”

  That didn’t make a bit of sense. It would be like showing up to meet a friend for breakfast at a restaurant with no previous agreement and no actual friend. She’d be eating alone. Sleep was better. “I don’t get it.”

  “Here it is. The reason you can’t sleep in and skip prayer times when you don’t have that personal relationship with Him yet is because we want to make sure you’re in the path of receiving it. Ever hear the phrase ‘Fake it till you make it’?”

  Carmen nodded. What did that have to do with God?

  “It’s kind of like that.” Donna’s eyes seemed heavy, almost sad. “But, you know, that’s not the point today. Today you blatantly disregarded a rule that’s in place for you to uphold whether you like it and agree with it or not. That’s a choice you made, and it carries consequences. So come with me.”

  Car
men rinsed out her toothbrush and put it back in her drawer, dried her hands, and sighed. “Let’s go.” She followed Donna from the room then turned back to shoot a wink at her roommates. All eyes were on them as they made their way down to the main level. Carmen felt some disapproving stares and noticed a few that were simply quizzical. Those girls probably wondered what was going to happen to Carmen so they could decide if it was worth it to skip prayer time. Maybe Carmen had launched a revolution simply by pressing the proverbial snooze button a few too many times. Wars had been started over less.

  But now wasn’t the time to be cocky. “I didn’t mean anything bad, Donna.” Maybe Carmen should have gone with the program and stayed under the radar. “I just wanted to sleep in.”

  “I understand. But that’s part of why you’re here at Diamond Estates in the first place. When people react to things or make choices simply based on what they want to do, there are often consequences. Today is no different.” Donna pursed her lips. “You made the choice, and now you have to face the results.”

  Uh-oh. If only Carmen could crawl back in bed and have a redo of the morning.

  They stood outside the open door to Ben’s office. Donna stepped forward. “Ben? We’re here.”

  He turned his swivel chair and smiled at them. “Well, well. Come on in. Have a seat.” A pleasant-looking woman with twinkling eyes and two of the deepest dimples Carmen had ever seen stood right behind him. “Carmen, this lovely lady is my wife, Alicia. She’s been dying to meet you.”

  She just bet. Carmen put out her hand for a shake.

  Alicia rushed around to the other side of the desk and pulled Carmen into a smothering embrace. “I’m so glad to meet you, dear.”

  Carmen mumbled something about being happy to know her, too, then sank into one of the red chairs in front of Ben’s desk and stared at her hands in her lap. How embarrassing to meet someone at the moment she was about to hear her sentence.

  “So let’s make this easy for everyone. I’m confused, Carmen.” Ben leaned forward on his elbows. “I don’t understand why you would pick something so basic to rebel against and on your very first day. Why?”