Blue Jeans and Sweatshirts

by Jo Ramsey

  Xan nodded. “Sure. Alyssa?”

  “Yeah.” Alyssa gulped. “Holly, can I have a pen and some paper? I don’t even want to say my triggers out loud, but I can write them down.”

  “Just a second.” I set my plate on the arm of the couch and put my glass on the coffee table. “If you don’t mind, write down how we can help you if you are triggered, please. We did that last time too.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Xan and I’ll make a list together.”

  “Okay.” I went to my room to get a notebook and pen and brought them back to Alyssa and Xan. “We’re going to keep talking, but we’ll be careful what we say. You can sit at the kitchen table if you want to or stay in here. Whichever.”

  “We’ll stay.” Xan took the notebook and pen from Alyssa. “We can handle it.”

  Alyssa gave her a grateful look. I was kind of surprised. The way Xan acted at school, I’d always believed she was really messed up. Not that I’d tried talking to her since sixth grade. I really didn’t know her. She was a lot stronger than I’d realized. I needed to be more careful about assuming.

  “I’m sorry for triggering you,” Tony said. “I’ll be more careful.”

  “Thanks,” Alyssa said without looking at him.

  “So back to what we were saying?” I looked at each of them. No one spoke, so I continued. “You’re all right. Way too many people think it’s a victim’s fault, or think it doesn’t count if it’s done to a guy, or if the person who does it is female. Maybe we can’t educate the entire world, but I’d like to brainstorm some ways we can get through to people at school, at least.”

  “We aren’t doing a rally like they do for Day of Silence or Spread the Word,” Tracie said. “That’s just wrong. I mean, what would we do, stand up there and tell everyone what happened to us? Not happening.”

  “We could do an assembly about not blaming victims and supporting survivors without saying any of us have been through anything,” Chastaine said. “Make it about the message instead of the people.”

  “People might still guess,” Tracie muttered. “They’ll say things happened even if they don’t know what they’re talking about. That’s how it works. If we’re standing up talking to the whole school, someone’s going to guess.”

  “It doesn’t have to be an assembly or anything,” I said, mainly so Chastaine and Tracie wouldn’t start arguing. “We could do it that way, but we could also make posters and get permission to hang them in the halls. Maybe have a little article in the school news, like a paragraph or two about someone who’s been assaulted and why it wasn’t their fault. Not a real person, but make something up.”

  “Or find some stories online about survivors who talk publicly about what happened to them,” Evan said. “I think I’ve seen some. We can ask those people’s permission to share their stories in the school news, or at least share the links.”

  “That might work.” I wanted to write down the suggestions we were making, but I didn’t feel like going back to my room for another notebook and pen, and Alyssa and Xan were still writing. “Hey, Xan? Alyssa? I know you’re writing down the trigger stuff, but would you also write down posters and news stories?”

  “Already did,” Xan said. “Since we have the writing tools, we’ll play secretaries.”

  I couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic, so I decided to assume she was serious. “Thanks.”

  She flashed me a smile that vanished so quickly I wasn’t entirely sure I’d seen it. “No problem.”

  While we continued talking, everyone else got up to get more pizza. I hadn’t even finished the first slice I’d taken, and I didn’t intend to. I wasn’t hungry, and even if I had been, I didn’t want to shove that much grease and that many calories down my throat.

  We had a few disputes during the meeting, but mostly everyone discussed things instead of arguing. We managed not to trigger anyone else either. Xan and Alyssa kept making notes about what the rest of us said, though neither of them added anything to the discussion. Alyssa didn’t even look at anyone except Xan most of the time.

  I felt bad for her. During our sophomore year, Alyssa was part of the same clique as Chastaine, and she was one of the most beautiful girls at our school. Then something had happened to her. She’d disappeared right before April break. She must have done schoolwork wherever she’d gone, because she was still in the same grade as me, but she’d come back in September with most of her hair cut off, wearing clothes even baggier than mine, and she didn’t talk to anyone at school anymore.

  It was pretty obvious what kind of thing had happened to her, but I didn’t know any details. And it wasn’t any of my business.

  Just before seven o’clock, Mom came into the living room. “Sorry, guys, but you’re going to have to wrap it up now. Holly’s dad is on his way home, and he’s had a long day.”

  “We’re finished anyway,” Chastaine said. She glanced at me. “Aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be meeting again next week anyway.” I smiled at her. She’d remembered to count me as part of the decision-making, and I appreciated it.

  “I’ll host next week,” Tony said. “I’ll have to make sure my brother and sister don’t bug us, but it should be all right.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “So next Wednesday, same time?”

  Tony nodded. “Five thirty works really well, as long as everyone’s okay with it.”

  Everyone else nodded or said they agreed, and we started cleaning up our dishes and trash. By the time they all left, the living room was neater than it had been before they’d gotten there, other than a few crumbs on the carpet. I vacuumed those up and put the vacuum cleaner away just as Dad walked through the door. He said hello to me, but that was it, and I didn’t try to talk to him. I just hoped eventually we’d get past the whole silent treatment thing.

  Chapter 8

  NATALIA WASN’T in school the next day. She hadn’t answered my voice mail or text the night before, and now I was really worried. She might have come down with something. Lots of people were getting sick. It happened every winter. But I’d seen Natalia at lunch the day before, and she’d looked fine.

  I asked a couple of her friends in the Houseman class if they knew where she was, but neither of them did. And when I asked Mr. Houseman, he said her mother had called to say Natalia wouldn’t be at school, but she hadn’t said why. He promised to let me know if he found out anything more than that.

  I didn’t know why I was so concerned about her not being there. We weren’t exactly friends or anything. I’d known who she was since elementary school, the same as almost everyone else I went to school with, but I didn’t remember even having a conversation with Natalia until the day she’d told me Chastaine was brave.

  At the end of the day, I went back to Mr. Houseman’s room. He didn’t look exactly pleased to see me. “I don’t know anything more than I told you this morning, Holly. And if I did, I wouldn’t be able to share it with you.”

  “Yeah. Confidentiality, right?”

  He nodded. “Right. It’s even stricter with classes like mine. Technically I’m not even supposed to tell anyone who’s in my class, though everyone knows anyway.”

  “Yeah.” I hesitated. “I know you can’t tell me details, but would you call her mother and at least tell me if Natalia’s okay? That wouldn’t violate confidentiality, would it?”

  “No, I guess not.” He sighed. “Let me finish putting these worksheets away and I’ll see what I can do.”

  He put some papers in various folders that were scattered on a table and then picked up the receiver of the corded phone on one corner of his desk. All the special ed teachers had phones in their rooms, I guessed so no one would overhear them talking about students.

  “Hi, Mrs. Borovsky. It’s Mr. Houseman. How are you?” He paused. “Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that. Yes, that’s why I was calling. How long will she be there?”

  I held my breath. I hoped nothing bad had happened, but the way he was talking, it d
idn’t sound good.

  “I understand,” he said. “Is it all right if I let the other students know? Some of her friends might worry, but I won’t tell them anything without your permission.”

  I hoped Natalia’s mother would say it was okay. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to deal with not knowing anything.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Houseman said. “If you like, I can put together some work for her to do until she’s able to come back.” Another pause. “All right. I’ll do that. Do you want to come by school to pick it up tomorrow? Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  He hung up and took a deep breath before looking up at me. “Natalia’s in the hospital. She’s doing okay, but she’s going to be there at least through the weekend, and she might have to stay home for another week or two before she’s ready to come back.”

  My chest got tight, and I was glad I’d only had a few carrot sticks for lunch, because my stomach rolled so badly I probably wouldn’t have kept anything else down. “Did her mother tell you what happened? I know you can’t tell me what it was, but did she say?”

  “Yes.”

  I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. “Is she sick? Or is something else wrong?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve told you everything I can. I’m going to have my kids write notes or make cards for her tomorrow. If you want to send her something, I’ll include it.”

  “Thanks.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I left. Otherwise I would have kept asking him questions he wouldn’t have been able to answer, and that probably would have annoyed both of us.

  I hadn’t gotten my stuff out of my locker yet, so I went upstairs to the back hallway where all the junior lockers were. I hadn’t told any of my friends I was going to talk to Mr. Houseman, so when I got to the hall, Chastaine, Evan, and Guillermo all pretty much ran over to me.

  “Where were you?” Chastaine demanded.

  “I didn’t know I had to check in with you.” I pushed past her to my locker. I had another headache, and between that and hearing the news about Natalia, I wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated. “I was talking to Mr. Houseman. Natalia’s in the hospital, but he said he couldn’t tell me why.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Guillermo asked.

  “He said she’s going to probably be there until Sunday or Monday, and then she’ll have to stay home for another week or two. That was it. He wouldn’t even tell me if she’s sick or if it’s something else.”

  “What else would it be?” Evan said.

  “I don’t know. I hope she’s just sick.” Maybe she got upset about what happened to her. Maybe I was too pushy about trying to get her to come to the meeting last night. I didn’t have any reason to blame myself for Natalia being in the hospital, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty even if I didn’t know why.

  “Are you okay?” Evan put his arm around me. “Hey, cuz, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” I pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about it. Mr. Houseman said he’s going to have his class make cards to send to Natalia, and he said I could send her something too. If you guys want, he’d probably include cards or notes from you.”

  Chastaine nodded. “Natalia’s a nice kid. I’ll send her a note.”

  “Do you guys want to come over?” Evan asked. “I have art supplies. We can make cards. She’d probably like that.”

  “You have a bunch of markers and some scrap paper,” Guillermo said. “And half the markers don’t have covers.”

  “They do so. I just don’t know where the covers are.” Evan paused. “And glitter. I have glitter.”

  “Of course you do.” Guillermo rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s all go do happy arts and crafts at Evan’s house.”

  “Only if I can check out your makeup and nail polish, Evan,” Chastaine said.

  “Absolutely. I can make you fabulous.”

  I ignored them and opened my locker. They were happy and joking, and meanwhile, Natalia was in the hospital, and we didn’t know why. I didn’t understand how they could be cheerful under those circumstances. I sure as hell couldn’t be.

  I texted Mom to let her know I’d be at Evan’s. I didn’t usually bother doing that. Most of the time when I went to someone else’s house, I was home before Mom and Dad. Their rule was they only needed to know where I was if I wouldn’t be home when they got there. But with the tension between me and them over the whole counseling thing, I didn’t want to take any chances on making it worse.

  I still didn’t know if they were planning to let me go back to Lorraine, or when my next appointment would be. Mom hadn’t told me anything about that, and naturally Dad hadn’t said anything at all to me before he left for work.

  When we got to Evan’s, he went into his room to get the art supplies and the cosmetics Chastaine wanted to look at. The rest of us sat in the living room.

  “Did anyone give you a hard time today, Holly?” Guillermo asked.

  I shook my head. “About what?”

  “Nathan told everyone you broke up with him. Some people are saying it’s because you and Chastaine are a couple.”

  “Shit.” Chastaine leaned back and folded her arms. “Of course they are. Not that it really matters. It’s true. But the grapevine isn’t the way I would have chosen to be outed.”

  “Tell me about it,” Guillermo muttered.

  “What if someone tells my parents?” I got up and started pacing around the small room, because otherwise I would have sat there fidgeting and feeling sicker than I had when I’d heard about Natalia. “They’ll kill me.”

  “They won’t kill you.” Evan came back carrying two small plastic baskets. “They might not throw you a party or anything, but they won’t kill you.”

  “You don’t know how pissed off they already are.” I went to the window and looked out at the middle school kids walking past. Their school was at the end of the street. “They made me go to counseling about the eating thing. I guess they think there’s something wrong with me for not wanting to be fat. And then they got mad because I told the counselor they said I’d be grounded if I didn’t go to the appointment.”

  “Did the counselor tell them you said that?” Evan put the baskets on the coffee table. “She isn’t allowed to tell them anything you say.”

  “She didn’t exactly tell Dad. She said something about how counseling only works if the person wants to be there, not if they go so they won’t get punished.” I turned around. “So it was pretty obvious that I’d told her what my parents said, but she didn’t come right out and say I’d said it.”

  “She still shouldn’t have done that.” Evan sounded disgusted. “So your parents are mad at you for talking to your counselor about them. That’s great.”

  “Yeah. They keep saying they want me to keep going to counseling, but then they turn around and try to tell me what I’m allowed to say.” I really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The whole thing made my stomach hurt, especially when I added in the possibility of them finding out I had a girlfriend.

  “Sit down, please,” Chastaine said. “You’re making me nervous. Parents can be tough to deal with sometimes, but do you honestly think they’ll flip out if they find out about you and me?”

  “I don’t even know.” I sat beside her, and she held my hand. That felt nice. Chastaine didn’t go for a whole lot of physical affection, especially in front of other people, and I wasn’t always sure if it was okay to ask for it.

  But sitting there holding Chastaine’s hand, I relaxed. I loved her, even if our relationship was kind of weird. And she wouldn’t bail on me just because of what other people said, the way Nathan had.

  Evan set out a bunch of markers, glitter glue sticks, and paper on the coffee table. “Do you guys want to start making cards while we talk? Art’s relaxing. That’s why I have all this stuff.”

  “Art therapy?” I said.

  He shrugged. “Brooke said it might be good
for me. I’m no artist, but coloring and drawing, and sometimes scribbling the whole thing out with a black marker, gets out some of the negative crap. Don’t tell anyone, though. I have to uphold my fabulous reputation, and I don’t know if coloring pretty little pictures with markers would count.”

  “Just color them in fabulous ways.” Guillermo slid off the couch to kneel beside the coffee table and picked up a marker and piece of paper.

  Chastaine did the same, though since she was wearing one of her tight miniskirts, kneeling wasn’t quite as easy for her as for Guillermo. Both of them started drawing.

  Evan sat beside me. “Remember a few months ago when certain people were trying to out Moe? He told his parents and then the football team, and then they didn’t have any power over him.”

  “Yeah.” Jim Frankel was the one who’d threatened to tell everyone Guillermo was gay, but as usual, Evan wouldn’t say the guy’s name. Frankel and his stepbrother had even dragged Guillermo’s little brother Ernesto into it, all because Guillermo had called the police when he saw Frankel and Ferreira beating up Evan.

  At least that wouldn’t happen this time. I hoped. No one had any reason to get revenge on me, and I didn’t think anyone in town was as psycho as Jim and Colby. Fortunately, neither of them was around anymore. On top of the stuff with Guillermo and Ernesto, Colby had been threatening his girlfriend, who happened to be Chastaine’s cousin. That was why the whole thing about what Jim did to Chastaine had come out. Guillermo had gone to Chastaine to ask her to help her cousin, and somewhere in the conversation, Guillermo had figured out something else had happened.

  Aside from Chastaine reporting Jim, she’d told our guidance counselor what was going on with her cousin. Colby ended up with a restraining order against him, and he’d been sent to live with relatives in the central part of the state. And from what I’d heard, once Jim finished serving his time, he would be leaving the state altogether to live with some relative somewhere.