Читать книгу Mean Girls: New Girl / Confessions of an Angry Girl / Here Lies Bridget / Speechless - Hannah Harrington - Страница 25

IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE, AND I’D ALREADY GOTTEN my first present: I could take off my sweatshirt and squint in the sunlight. I was standing at the arrivals loop at Jacksonville International Airport. Any moment now, my dad would be rounding into sight in my mom’s robin’s-egg-blue convertible, and I could feel like I was at home again. I could try to forget everything that had happened at Manderley, and pretend—like I had to—that everything was great.

My bag was weighing on my shoulder, the guy next to me was blowing cigarette smoke so directly in my face that it felt intentional, and it still was a little too cold to be in only jeans and a tank top, but I didn’t care. I didn’t notice any of that. All I could do was snap my gum anxiously, until I finally saw the car.

There was Dad, and there was Jasper.

A grin stretched across my face as I pulled open the door. “Hi!” I waved to my dad. “Oh, Jasper!” He jumped on me, his tail wagging so hard it shook the rest of his body.

I threw my bag and Jasper into the backseat and took a deep breath as I put on my seat belt. I was still smiling like a fool.

“Hey, honey,” my dad said, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi! Oh, my God, I’m so happy to be home.”

“How do you like it? You glad you went up there?”

I nodded and considered how I was going to make it seem like I was in any way glad I’d left Florida for New Hampshire. But before I had to decide how to do that, Dad started to drive and then had to slam on the brakes as someone nearly lurched into us.

“Come on!” My dad laid on the horn. “Sorry, honey. Right. Well, I’m glad you like it up there. You wish you’d done all four years there?”

“Nah.”

“And you’re here for what, a week?”

“I have to go back January second.”

“That’s all they give ya? Doesn’t feel like long enough.”

“I know.”

I was soon distracted from the conversation as we drove over the familiar bridge and I could feel the crispy, almost wet breeze on my face. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The sun was hot on my eyelids, but the wind whipping around the convertible was cold. I’d never been more comfortable.

My dad turned up the Eagles on the radio, and Jasper panted in the seat behind me, possibly the only one who understood how incredibly refreshing this car ride was.

An hour later I was sitting at the counter eating my mom’s steaming hot popovers, smeared with butter and raspberry jelly, and sacrificing little bits to Jasper at my feet.

“So tell me all about it,” my mother said as she leaned on the counter across from me, some flour in her hair. She’d been baking all afternoon, which was clear from the dining room filled with every type of Christmas cookie and four loaves of bread.

I shuddered. I couldn’t tell my mom anything.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, I already know they aren’t feeding you enough.” She looked at my arms and gave them a squeeze. “Look at that, no healthy fat on your little bones. You’re too skinny, mon petite chou!”

“The food is just kind of … prisonlike. It’s not a big deal, I still eat.”

“Uh-huh.” She moved a piece of hair from her eye, putting more flour in it. “I’ll send you care packages. I hadn’t thought of it—I’d assumed the food would be five-star!”

Ha. “Not quite.”

“Okay, so what about your friends? Do you like any boys? You would tell me if you had a boyfriend, no?”

I felt myself blush, and I wished I hadn’t. It wasn’t the normal, coy kind of blushing. My face was hot because I was filled with guilt and resentment. Max and I hadn’t spoken at all since I said … what I said to Dana … and everyone else within earshot.

“Ooh!” she shrilled. “Tell me!”

“I kind of … there’s a guy I’m sort of talking to …”

“What’s his name?”

“Max Holloway.”

“What’s he look like—do you have any pictures?”

I didn’t want to show her his Facebook. It was riddled with pictures of Her. That she’d tagged. In her albums.

“No, I don’t. But he’s really, really cute. You’d like him. He’s the type of guy you always say are a-dor-ah-bleh.” I imitated her accent.

“He is dark-haired? Is he tall?”

I smiled. “Yes, he is. Light blue eyes. His hair comes down about to his eyebrows, and he’s got a really straight nose.” I was caught in a stare and came to, only to find my mother looking smugly at me.

“You like him a lot. I can tell.”

“I mean … it’s complicated.”

“Why isn’t he your boyfriend? He likes you, surely.” She looked as though she was ready to turn on him.

“He has a girlfriend.”

It was the easiest answer that had any truth to it. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to tell her about Becca. Maybe the reason was that I would never get sympathy from an outsider for being jealous of a girl who had gone missing. But my mom nodded in understanding and turned around to pull out yet another baking sheet. I slipped another bite to Jasper. A second later, I heard the front door open, and looked up to see my best friend.

“Leah!” I screeched as she walked into the kitchen. I practically leaped on her as if we’d been separated by a century instead of only a few hundred miles.

She squeezed me back. “I’m so happy to see you! Michael came, too, he’s outside talking to his mom.”

Small drop in my stomach.

“Michael?”

“Yeah … we’re back together.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” My smile ebbed a little. “But you texted me like a week ago and said—”

“We’re working through it. Plus he’s the best kisser ever.”

My little sister screamed with delight.

“Oh, sorry,” Leah said to my mother, and slapped her hand over her mouth.

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” my mom said, and smiled down at the onion she was chopping.

I loved that we were getting ready for dinner and the sun still hadn’t set. It was really, really good to be home. But something was different. It was still my house, but suddenly I felt like a guest. A welcome guest, for sure, but definitely a guest.

The house was the same, something that thrilled me and simultaneously seemed inexplicably strange. I’d only been gone a few months, but it felt weird that everything had just carried on without me. My house was my memory, something I’d always be able to conjure up, even when I was ancient and couldn’t recognize the back of my hand. But when I wasn’t there, it still existed. The doors still slapped and thudded open and shut, flies were still smacked on the outside porch, the fridge still emptied and filled, and my bed was never surprised that I didn’t come back.

All without my mind and me holding it together.

Michael, who had a mop of curly brown hair and teeth that looked almost too straight, walked into my kitchen and greeted my parents, and then smiled at me.

“‘Ey, girl!” He wrapped his arms around me and shook me. “I’ve missed you!”

“Michael!” I feigned excitement. Michael and I had never really gotten along. That’s what happens when you make my best friend cry hundreds of times. It really irritated me that she’d brought him to my house on Christmas Eve. But if she hadn’t, I felt kind of certain she would have just not come. I always tried to rationalize this trait of hers.

Whatever it was that had changed in me lately had no patience for it.

He put his arm around her, and she held his hand. Leah cooed as he kissed her on the tip of the nose.

Yuck.

“Hey, so you’re at Manderley Academy, right?” Michael said, adjusting his attention to me.

“Yeah, it’s in—”

“I know where it is,” he interrupted in that … way of his. “Didn’t some girl go missing from there?”

I felt shaken as my two worlds collided. My mom turned. “Missing? What happened? Did you know her?” She looked at me.

“N-no.”

“Yeah, she was hot in those missing photos, too. If she had a boyfriend, I bet he’s pissed he didn’t hang on to her.”

Leah thudded him in the chest. “Mikey, shut up. She’s missing, it seems wrong to talk about her like that.”

“Hang on to her?” I repeated his words. “She’s missing, she’s not flitting around the world with some other guy.”

I couldn’t believe I was defending her. But somehow, she felt like mine to think bad things about. Certainly not Michael’s.

“Whatever, I’m just saying she’s hot. She’s been missing since the end of last year. I read it online somewhere. She’s probably dead.”

“Oh, my God,” Leah said, ignoring Michael’s more ominous prediction, “that’s just so incredibly General Hospital.”

“She’s got some friend, Diana or something—”

“Dana,” I corrected, automatically.

“Yeah, Dana—she was hot, too—said that she didn’t know where the girl was but she was sure she was still out there. She’s all over interviews online.”

I felt light-headed. It was too strange to hear my best friend’s annoying douche of a boyfriend talking about Becca and Dana.

“That’s so weird. Is everyone freaking out at your school, then?” Leah’s eyes were wide.

I nodded. “Yeah, everyone’s really worried.”

“That’s just awful. That poor girl.” My mom clucked her tongue and started moving the cookies from the tray to a cooling rack. “I hope they find her. Her poor friends, they must be so worried! Oh, and if she did have a boyfriend … that must be just the worst kind of worry—Oh! The corn bread! I’d nearly forgotten it.”

I wanted to press the reset button, and make it so Michael had never come. It would have made things infinitely better for a thousand reasons, but right now his little bit of online stalker info was making me feel nauseous.

“Look!” Lily ran over to me and presented me with the drawing she’d had her nose to for at least ten minutes.

I crouched down to her level, thankful for a change in subject. “What have we got here?”

It was the most tactful way of asking an easily offended child like Lily what on earth she’d been trying to depict with the four free crayons she’d smuggled out of Harry’s Restaurant and Pub.

“Jasper,” she said, pointing to the thickly drawn figure that took up a third of the page. He looked like a horse. “And that’s me.” She pointed to a squat little girl with a crown on her head. “That’s the house, and that’s Mommy and Daddy.”

“Where am I?”

She stretched her mouth out to either side and looked guilty. “Um …” She ran into the other room with a red crayon, and came back a moment later with a stick figure drawn in on the backside of the sheet. “You were just here on the other side. Because you’re not here anymore.”

Ouch.

I smiled, feeling as separated from my old life as the little crayon me, and put an arm around her. “That is an excellent drawing. It should definitely go on the fridge.”

I pinned it up with a magnet and all the other drawings.

An hour and a half later we had finished eating my mom’s best Christmas Eve food (chili, corn bread and—less happily—green beans) and were watching It’s a Wonderful Life. We watched it every year. Even Lily could be heard whispering some of the lines to herself in her small falsetto voice as she played with toys by the Christmas tree.

The sun had finally set, and there was a slight chill wrapping the blanket around my feet. Jasper was curled up next to me, breathing quietly. Michael and Leah were sitting next to me on the sectional sofa, holding hands and whispering things to each other too often and stifling giggles. My parents were in their respective chairs. My dad was falling asleep, as he almost always did during movies, and my mom was sipping on her warm—and spiked—apple cider.

I thought about Michael and Leah. Just about anyone who didn’t know the intricacies of their roller-coaster romance might look at them now and think they were in love. Maybe that’s what it had been for Becca and Max. Maybe they weren’t as in love as everyone thought they were. Maybe they weren’t blissful and bound for a lifetime of happiness. Maybe everyone had been wrong. The thought lifted my heavy heart for a second before it fell again.

Because what if I was wrong? Maybe Michael and Leah were what love was. They always came back to each other, no matter how bad they were for one another. They chose to forget the wrongs of before and stay together. It was their choice. There must be some reason they got back together and stayed with each other through thick and thin.

Was that love, or were they just emotionally destroying each other? My phone buzzed on the cushion under me. It was a text from Max.

Watching It’s a Wonderful Life … you said you watch that every Christmas, too, right?

I clicked off my phone’s screen, feeling an unexpected urge to cry. It was stupid, and I knew it. But suddenly I felt the weight of realizing that no one had ever felt that way about me. No one had ever not been able to stay away from me. Whether Michael and Leah were true love personified or not, they always came back to each other. And even if Max hadn’t loved Becca like everyone said, then it made no difference. Something had kept him magnetized to her. Something, it was to be assumed, other than her beauty and charm.

Michael and Leah whispered things to each other, not meant for anyone else to hear. Suddenly I couldn’t help but imagine Max and Becca sitting next to me instead of them.

Jasper jerked in his sleep, bringing me back into the room and its reality. I looked back at the screen. It was the part where Jimmy Stewart is sitting at the bar, and the weight of his entire life seems to fall on his shoulders.

I texted Max back.

Yeah, I’m watching it now. I miss—

I backspaced over the last two words, shaking my head and feeling embarrassed for myself, and pressed Send.

I didn’t know what else to say.

Leah giggled next to me at something Michael said. I fixed my eyes on the screen.

It was like nothing could satisfy me. At school all I wanted was to come home, and once I finally got there, my best friend was an entirely different person and seemed barely happy to see me. Meanwhile my family was the same as always, my dog was the same, my sister was a little taller and everything had carried on.

I felt like Jimmy Stewart’s character. I had stepped away from my life, too. But unlike him, when I came back it was like it barely mattered that I’d been gone. He comes back to a town taken over by the evil Mr. Potter, and I come back to St. Augustine, a town unchanged. Not that it should have turned into Potterville by the time I came back, but … still.

Instead it felt like Becca had left her life, and I was the one to come see what life was like without her in it. It was a lot different than my life without me. Without Becca, her friends talked constantly about her, the school had a picture of her on the wall in the hall, and I, the new new girl, couldn’t get away from being compared to her. And always unfavorably.

I fought, once again, to forget what Becca—dream Becca or whatever—had said about my friends not caring that I was gone. It was a dream, for God’s sake. I couldn’t set so much by it.

More unbelievably than anything, I couldn’t get my head out of Manderley. I had been sure that when I came home I’d never want to leave again. But instead it just felt like exactly what it was: a week back at my house, before I’d return to my new life. Back to my roommate. Back to my routine. Back to my … well … back to Max.

I watched the movie, before finally falling asleep with my arm around Jasper.

New Year’s Eve

“Another glass?” My dad, as flushed in the cheeks as I was, handed me a glass of champagne.

“Sure!” I took it, and had a bubbly sip.

Our house was buzzing. Every year, my parents invited over their oldest friends, Rick and Sarah, with their dalmatian, Pongo, a few of my friends, and my aunt Tammy and her husband, George. This year Lily got to have a friend sleep over, so the two of them were running rampant through the house with Pongo and Jasper. Everyone in charge of them was too tipsy to do anything but make sure they didn’t topple down any stairs or anything.

Leah was paying me a little more attention this time, probably since Emma was here. Emma kept smacking her on the arm and holding out a finger to reprimand her every time she and Michael got too intimate. I asked her if this was something that happened often. Emma rolled her eyes and mouthed, Oh, my God, yes.

Then we’d laughed, and I was glad to find that I wasn’t the only one who thought Leah was being annoying.

I finally felt at home. I felt warmly toward everyone who walked in the door and everything was ten times funnier. I was really at home again, and happy to be there. I’d gotten over everything I’d felt on Christmas Eve.

Just in time to leave.

“Come take a picture!” Leah pulled on my arm. “We’ve been calling you!”

“Okay, I’m coming!” I laughed.

My mom ushered us over. She was wearing black leggings and a cowl-neck sweater. She had on the pearl earrings my dad had given her for Christmas. Dad had also gotten her a brand-new camera, and she’d been shutter-happy ever since she got it. On Christmas morning, she’d photographed every present being opened, and every reaction—slowing down the process considerably. Though hers when she’d actually opened the camera had been the one really worth recording. Up until then, she’d been using a camera that still took double As and made every picture so pixilated it looked like a mosaic.

She’d used her new camera to document almost everything. I even walked past her room and spotted a weary-looking Jasper sitting on the couch in my parents’ room with a Santa hat on, and my mother—wielding the camera—saying, “Assieds-tu! Stay … sta—stay, Jasper!”

“Get together, ladies!” she said now, throwing her head back and standing an unfamiliar-with-newfangled-camera distance away from the screen. “Okay, one, two …”

Jasper jumped up and barked, as if he wanted to be in another picture. The flash caught us reacting down at the dog, and the next picture was of us laughing about it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. I was surrounded by people who used my name, who liked me, and who never compared me to Becca Normandy.

“You, too, Barbara,” my dad said, taking the camera from her.

“Oh, I can’t, I’ll look even older next to these,” she said, gesturing at Emma, Leah and me, “beautiful, young, faces!”

“You look gorgeous,” Leah said, putting an arm around her and pulling her in for the picture.

My dad smiled. “One, two, three, say New Year’s Eve!”

“New Year’s Eve!” we all said together.

“Me, too!” Lily said, and then stood in front of us, hands on her hips.

It carried on like this for most of the night, everyone taking turns with the new camera. At some point during the evening, Lily and her friend had paraded in Jasper and Pongo. The dogs were wearing some of Lily’s princess dresses from her dress-up trunk, panting wildly and obliviously.

A game of charades was attempted, but could not be taken seriously by anyone, and no one seemed to notice or mind. When it came time for the ball to drop, we all counted down from ten together, and had the ceremonial hugs and kisses to celebrate midnight.

Michael and Leah kissed well into the New Year. Emma and I squeezed each other and gave a quick peck before blowing into and rattling our noisemakers.

A few minutes later, I was coming out of the bathroom in the upstairs hallway and I ran into Michael.

“God, Michael, don’t just lurk around like that. It’s creepy.”

He shrugged. “How are you doing up at Manderley?”

I straightened up, surprised at what seemed to be a genuine interest in my life. “Um … pretty good. It’s hard being new. But I expected that.”

“Yeah, but you’re probably popular.”

I scoffed and wavered a little in my heels. “Oh, yeah? Is that what you see when you see me? Popularity material?”

He looked me up and down and then pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. “You’re hot as shit. That usually does it for girls.”

It was dark, so I couldn’t totally see his face, but he didn’t sound like he was kidding.

“Ha,” I said anyway, “right, well. Yeah, thanks, Michael.”

I started to walk down the hallway, but he grabbed me by the elbow. I tried to shake him off.

“Please don’t make this weird, Mike.”

He pulled me toward him and kissed me. I pushed him back, pulling my mouth away and finally stomping on his foot with my heel.

“What the hell is your problem?” he asked.

“My problem? You’re kidding me!”

I stormed off, and down the steps. I walked up to Leah. “I need to talk to you.”

“Why’s your lipstick so smeared?” She looked over my shoulder. I followed her eye line to see Michael limping and pink in the face. Not just from blushing, but from my lipstick.

“I need to talk to you,” I repeated. But she didn’t look like she was going to listen. She was angry and ready to yell.

“Leah, calm down, you don’t know—” Emma tried to reach for her, but Leah shrugged out of her grip.

“Please—” I started, but she put a hand in my face.

“Do not,” she said, “talk to me.”

I swatted at her hand. “Are you joking? You really think—are you fucking kidding me?”

She stormed out of the house, Michael on her heels. I followed them both.

“Leah!” I shouted. “You cannot seriously think what you seem to be thinking.”

“I don’t know what to expect from you anymore!” She cracked her knuckles like she did when she was nervous. “You know, Michael said you always seemed to want him, but I thought that couldn’t possibly be true. Yeah, you always seemed to like him, but I didn’t think you’d ever try anything. Frankly, I didn’t think you’d have the guts.”

“If by that you mean that I can’t even stomach the thought of it, then no, I do not have the guts.”

“Whatever, it just figures that you’d do it and immediately come to talk to me about it. You are such a coward.”

I was baffled. I shook my head in disbelief. “What exactly are you criticizing me for? The fact that you think your best friend betrayed you, the fact that I’m too big a wimp to do that or the fact that I’m a little bitch because I’m too honest? Well, throw this on top of everything you’re mad about. Your so-called best friend—” I pointed to myself “—thinks your boyfriend is a disgusting, smarmy sleazeball.”

“Don’t you even—”

“Oh, I’m not done!” My voice rang through the night air. “I think that smarm is contagious, because you’ve obviously caught it. What kind of a dumb girl are you, that you believe your dick of a boyfriend before you believe your best friend?” I turned to leave, but then added, “And when you do realize you’re wrong? Do not even bother trying to make up with me. We’re done.”

I didn’t know why, but somehow I felt better. I had no place in this world, and in some way that was freeing. It meant I had no allegiance.