Down the hall toward our room, Mrs. Rosewell was telling two other girls to lower their music. She stood in the doorway, giving them a lecture about the benefits of sleep.
“You girls are always so concerned about how you look. Well, don’t you know that not getting enough sleep will age you faster?” she warned them. She glanced at me as I went by.
“Good night, Mrs. Rosewell,” I said.
“Yes, good night. There’s a good girl,” she added for the benefit of the other two.
I hurried away. If there was one thing I didn’t want to become here, it was a touchstone for the best behavior. I remembered how cruel Haylee could be ripping apart one of the girls in our school who refused to smoke a joint, drink, or talk openly about sex. Eventually, most of the girls would treat Haylee’s target like a leper.
Curling up snugly in my bed, I thought about Troy. Something had made him extra cautious about whom he would share any personal or intimate things. In a way, he did remind me of myself. One thing was for sure. He had his secrets, and I had mine. Would that eventually drive us apart or bring us together?
“ ’Night,” Claudia said when she returned.
“ ’Night. I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Thank you. Actually, regardless of what Marcy wants to do, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m afraid to admit I had a good time to too many people, afraid that if I do, it will disappear.”
“One thing about good times, Claudia. They might end, but that doesn’t take away what you had. That stays with you. No matter what, don’t think you have to be as intense as Marcy. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, there’s always tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer. I thought she had fallen asleep, and then she suddenly said, “Marcy is right about you.”
“Oh? Right in what way?”
“Something has made you older and wiser.”
Now it was my turn not to answer. She sensed it and didn’t say another word. Sleep came not a moment too soon for her, probably because of the drinking, but it didn’t come quickly for me. Instead, I tossed and turned, worrying that I was too obvious after all. Restraint was all right, but filtering every word I said through a strainer to be sure nothing would lead to a dreaded question was making me stand out. For most girls my age, calling someone older and wiser was a euphemism for boring. At a place like this especially, you want to feel like you left your mother and father home and all the promises to behave and be responsible along with them. Feeling independent and a little reckless was exciting.
Perhaps I should start making things up, I thought. Maybe I could create another persona for myself. And then it hit me like a snowball in the face. I already had another persona built in: Haylee. I wouldn’t simply sit there like a mannequin when the other girls talked about their romances and experiences. I’d tell them what Haylee had done as if I had done it and take possession of it all. No one would call me Grandma then.
I snuggled with the plan, but then another voice spoke to me. If you do that, it will simply be another victory for your sister. She always wanted to turn you into her.
It was all so confusing, but why would it be anything else? I thought, and finally did fall asleep.
I was the first of the three of us up and dressed the following morning. When I rose, Claudia was still in a deep sleep. At the cafeteria, Terri told me Marcy was facedown, her arm dangling off the bed like the arm of a dead person.
“And she snored all night,” she said. “I never heard her do that!”
My first impulse was to tell her and the other girls who were laughing about it that actions have consequences. I was about to say that when I stopped myself and started to talk about the worst hangovers I’d ever had, even though I personally had little reference for that. Instead, I recalled Haylee the first time we had gone to a party, where she not only drank vodka but also smoked pot. She was alert enough to know Mother would pounce and ground us for months if she realized it, so she pretended to be sick from something she had eaten, and I went along with it for her, claiming my stomach was upset, too. It was good enough for Mother, who lectured us on being more cautious when eating other people’s food. Few, she said, would take the care to be sure whatever they made for us was nutritious and fresh.
Haylee slept until noon the next day. I tried to wake her, but she only groaned and chased me away. Consequently, I had to stay in bed as well, mimicking her symptoms. But it all worked, and she got away with it. She was right to predict that Mother would have forbidden us to go to another party, maybe even for the remainder of our school year, so I actually was lying for myself as well as Haylee. Afterward, as usual, Haylee made light of it all and complimented me on how well I went along with her plan. Fortunately, my father wasn’t there. He would have seen right through us. Mother was still living in that bubble where she could be quite convinced we would never do anything so dreadful.
Troy wasn’t in the cafeteria when I had gone in for breakfast, so I joined the girls. We had not made plans to meet, but I was hoping he would want me to join him. I was still worrying about my reaction to his attempt to kiss me good night. Would he have second thoughts and cancel our date tonight? Estelle Marcus noticed how I was watching the entrance. She nudged Jessie Paul, and they both smiled at me.
“What?” I asked, seeing their arrogant grins.
“You can stop waiting for him. Troy Matzner rarely comes to breakfast on weekends. He goes somewhere else,” Estelle said.
“Some diner, I heard,” Jessie said. “Didn’t he tell you that?”
“Our daily routines didn’t come up,” I said.
“What did?” Toby Dickens asked. Pounced, I should say.
I looked at the girls and the way they were all looking back at me, anticipating. Simply saying he had taken me to get an ice cream sundae obviously hadn’t impressed Marcy and wouldn’t impress these girls, either. I didn’t want to belittle our time together, but I suspected there wasn’t anyone here who would have enjoyed it.
“Now, Toby, I was brought up never to kiss and tell,” I said, with a wry smile that I saw lit each of them up with surprise, unleashing their own imaginations and fantasies. Haylee liked to tease our friends this way, too. She enjoyed toying with them, dangling the promise of some juicy sexual adventure.
“So you admit you kissed?” Estelle said.
“No one has gone on a date with him,” Toby said. “He’s good-looking, and he drives a cool car, but we all thought he might be . . .”
“Gay?”
“Whatever,” Jessie said.
“You can put that theory in the garbage,” I said. Then I gave them a Haylee Blossom Fitzgerald licentious smile. Surprise turned to fascination, just the way it would for Haylee.
“Did he take you to his house? I’ve seen the mansion from the road,” Kim Bailey said.
“How come he brought you back so early?” Terri asked suspiciously.
“She was gone long enough to have a good time,” Jessie told her.
“My mother told me the quiet ones are the ones to watch closely,” Kim offered.
“How does he compare?” Toby asked, now growing more excited. “On a scale of one to ten?”
I sat back, thinking. Some of them were actually holding their breath. My instincts told me none of them was as experienced as they made themselves out to be. One thing was for sure, I thought: none of them would have lasted two days in Anthony Cabot’s basement, not that it was an accomplishment I wanted to advertise. I widened my smile. I could see Haylee across from me, her eyes full of impish delight and sisterly pride, too.
“You don’t judge someone on the first date,” I declared, in the tone of someone who had vast romantic experience. “And besides, my mother told me,” I said, leaning toward Kim, “that those who talk about it are usually full of what makes the grass grow greener.”
Their faces collectively looked like a balloon losing air quickly.
Then Terri, who was a little smarter than the others
, brightened with a thought. “Are you going to see him again?” she asked.
“Tonight,” I said casually. “Which reminds me. I should get on that paper for Mr. Edgewater. See you in the library, maybe.” I rose with my tray.
“On Saturday?” Jessie asked.
I shrugged. “As you all surely know, you never know how you’ll be the day after,” I said.
They all looked at a loss for words. I smiled, turned, and walked away. I knew it was crazy, but I imagined Haylee walking beside me and saying, “Very nice, sister dear.”
Yes, she’d be proud of me, but flowing beneath that would be the rich green stream of jealousy. You can learn from me, she’d think, but don’t imagine you can get better at it than I am.
Back at the dorm, Marcy and Claudia were sipping what would be their only breakfast, some coffee they got from the machine in our lounge. They had just risen and were both in bathrobes. Marcy had come into our room and was sitting on my bed, looking pale, her eyes still bloodshot.
“ ’Morning,” Claudia said.
“Is it really morning?” Marcy asked.
“I can’t imagine either of you having the energy to go to a fun park or anything,” I said.
“A shower is all we need,” Marcy insisted, and then closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “So what are you going to do today?”
“Work on the paper for Edgewater, and then Troy is taking me to have pizza and see a movie.” I looked at Claudia. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Oh. Your cell phone went off, but I didn’t answer it.”
“Thanks.”
I looked at it and saw there was a call from my father. I put the phone in my bag.
“Why don’t you get hold of Troy?” Marcy asked, some life coming back into her face. “You two could come with us.”
“I’m fine, thanks. I don’t want to leave this paper for tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of math and science, too.”
“She’s right,” Claudia said. “We’re not going to have another night like last night.”
“Don’t you become Grandma, too,” Marcy warned. “I’m going to take a twenty-minute shower. We should dress warmly, Claudia. Terri the weather girl predicted the possibility of snow showers.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Claudia said.
I gathered the things I needed for the library.
“I hope you have a better time tonight,” Marcy told me.
I realized Terri would be talking to her soon.
“Listen,” I said. “I wasn’t in the mood to be talkative last night, but I had a very good time. The sundae was just dessert.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Figure it out,” I said, and walked out.
“You’d better tell me what that means!” Marcy shouted after me.
I kept walking. When I was outside, I went to one of the benches along the pathway to the library and called my father back. He answered quickly, which told me he hadn’t called just to see how I was doing.
“I’m sorry I missed your call, Daddy. I left the phone in the room when I went to breakfast. Is anything wrong? Mother all right?”
“She’s fine. Nothing has changed there yet, but it might soon.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Dr. Alexander has approved Haylee going home for Thanksgiving,” he said.
“You mean she’ll be there when I’m there?” I asked. I was actually trembling.
“It’s part of what Dr. Alexander describes as taking baby steps toward a full recuperation, but Dr. Alexander wants to see you first before she puts her stamp of approval on the idea,” my father said. “I told you I didn’t want you ever to speak with her after she treated you like the bad one last time, but I’ll tell her whatever you want anyway, Kaylee. Just think about it and let me know.”
“When would I see her?”
“I’d bring you to her home office the weekend before Thanksgiving. Don’t answer now. Think about it.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“How are you doing there?”
“I like my teachers.” I hesitated, and then I told him, “I became friendly with a boy who took me to have an ice cream sundae last night after dinner.”
“Oh?”
“He’s taking me for pizza and a movie tonight.”
“That’s very good, Kaylee. What’s he like?”
“He’s very good-looking and an honor student, but . . .”
“But what?”
“He’s sort of a loner. The other girls think he’s arrogant because his family is wealthy.”
“What do you think?”
“I think . . . I think I have to get to know him a little more,” I said. That seemed safe enough.
“That sounds very intelligent and mature of you, Kaylee.”
“Maybe I’m just frightened, Daddy.”
“You’ll figure it out. Call me whenever you want, although I’m not the best authority when it comes to relationships.”
“Yes, you are,” I insisted. “ ’Bye, Daddy. I’ve got to go to the library.”
“I’ll call you after the weekend, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
I sat there for a few moments to let what my father had told me settle inside me. Haylee home for Thanksgiving? What would that be like? Would she gloat about how successful she was at deceiving Dr. Alexander and the staff at the institution? Would she continue to be unremorseful, even daring to ask me to give her the details of my abduction as if it were only an adventure?
On the other hand, what if she had changed? What if she begged for my forgiveness, using the spirit of the holiday and family to pressure me? Could she really believe I would simply shrug it all off? Oh, well, you didn’t really mean to get rid of me?
And what about Mother? Whose side would she favor? Would she also try to persuade me to be forgiving and return the family to what it had been? Would I want to return to that? Would my resistance drive Mother back to the psych ward, and would everyone blame me?
Or would we all sit around the table and pretend nothing had happened? Not a word would be said, not a reference would be made to my abduction and Haylee’s role in arranging it. Haylee would come into my room just as she used to and ask me questions about my new school, my new friends, and any boys I liked. She’d pepper me with questions just to keep me from saying or asking a single thing about what she had done. At the end, she might even kiss me good night and expect me to kiss her as well, just as we always had.
My father had clearly indicated that I might still stop all this. Dr. Alexander wanted something from me to convince her it would be all right to permit Haylee to go home for Thanksgiving. If I refused even to meet with her, that might be enough, but then how would I look, especially to Mother if she found out? Once again, Haylee would win. I could even imagine her gloating. She had proven I was worse. She was willing to try to redeem herself, but I wouldn’t let it happen.
I rose and walked slowly toward the library. It did look like there would be at least snow showers today. The sky was almost completely overcast, and there was more of a chill in the air. Maybe the chill was really coming from inside me. I quickened my pace.
Right now, all I wanted to do was lose myself in my schoolwork and forget that I even had a family, not to mention Thanksgiving. After all, the things I’d be thankful for would give most girls my age endless nightmares.
12
Marcy and Claudia were gone by the time I returned from the library. I had dived so deeply into the assignments that I forgot to pause for lunch. Early in the afternoon, my stomach growled angrily at being ignored, and I came up for air. I stopped at the cafeteria to pick up a sandwich and a drink and returned to the dorm to eat in Claudia’s and my room.
Most everyone else was out doing fun things. The snow showers came and went, and the winds blew holes in the overcast sky, revealing patches of blue that widened until it was partly cloudy, with enough sunshine to raise the temperature. I was sure
Marcy, Claudia, and the boys were having a better time now, and for a moment, I was envious, but I had finished most of my weekend assignments. They’d all be cramming and moaning tomorrow, and Marcy would be begging me for my homework answers.
I looked over my clothes to choose something to wear on my date.
For most of Haylee’s and my lives, even when we had entered high school, Mother would make it her business to choose what we should wear. When we were older, we had to have her approve of anything we had chosen for ourselves. Gradually, with Haylee in the lead, we had begun to dress differently, first in small ways, with different shoes and socks, different earrings and bracelets, and then with different blouses, skirts, and jeans. Haylee even packed things in her school bag to change into once we were out of Mother’s sight.
For other girls our age, sisters or otherwise, making these kinds of choices for themselves was as natural as breathing. Who would understand how firmly Mother had imposed her will on us, stressing not independence but similarity always? She believed that as long as we were closely alike, down to the smallest of details, we were loving twins.
Our friends always questioned us about it or made fun of us, especially when we were younger, but gradually, they became used to it and were surprised and eager to point out the differences that especially Haylee created. We were like the puzzle in a magazine with two pictures of the same scene side by side and you had to find the tiny differences. Haylee always enjoyed all this attention, but I was embarrassed.
Once recently when Mother permitted herself to speak about the horrible events surrounding my abduction, she actually said it was her fault for not being strict enough in forbidding us to seek out our individuality.
“I saw you were drifting apart,” she moaned, her eyes filling with tears of regret, “and I didn’t do enough to stop it.”
Long before all these terrible things had happened and Mother had been taken to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation and therapy, Haylee would tell me our mother was insane.
“She’s not normal,” she would whisper. “And she will make us both crazy, too, if we don’t do something about it.”
Shattered Memories Page 16