Outcast (24 page)

“What?” I asked.

“Why do you want to know so much?” Her hand was still firmly in place.

I picked up my fork, another distraction, and poked at the burger on my plate. “I don’t know…” I didn’t look at her. “It’s just that
Chad
wants to …”

She raised an eyebrow. “You mean you haven’t yet?” For the first time, she appeared genuinely shocked by something I said.

I shook my head. Just as she didn’t want to disclose her sex life to me, I didn’t want to share mine with her.

“Well fuck.” She lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. “No pun intended.” She blew a circle of smoke into the air. “Are you
saving yourself
?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She became suddenly inquisitive, interested in my life for what seemed like the first time ever. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned in for the whole story.

I lowered my voice. “I don’t know if I want to.”

“Why not?”

A part of me wanted to tell her, but another didn’t. There was no one else to talk to, so I spilled it.

“He’s been with Trina,” I blurted. “I mean, I hate her. Being with h
im
after he’s…well it makes me sick.”

“Then why are you with him?”

I thought about it, but couldn’t really answer. Why was I with him? He was nice to me, he was cute, but that didn’t seem a sufficient reason to be his girlfriend. I thought about it, trying to figure out what exactly I saw in him. Then it hit me. I wanted to be with him because he liked me. Of all the people in my life, he was the one person who liked me for who I was and not for who he wanted me to be.

“He doesn’t expect me to be anyone but myself.”

Before Cassie could make a cutting comment, I added one more remark. “And I like him.”

“That’s sweet.” Her tone was sarcastic. “But don’t you think he’ll eventually want to do it?” She assumed a jesting tone.

I motioned for the pack of Camels. My nerves, recently calmed, started to ignite themselves again.

Cassie leaned back and pushed the package toward me. She laughed. “Since I’ve already made you uncomfortable, let me ask you this. Have you ever done it with anyone?”

If I answered truthfully, I was a geek. If I told her that I had, she may ask all sorts of questions that I couldn’t answer.

“No.”

“I could tell. You have virgin written all over you.”

What the—?

I lashed back at her. “So what about you and Shane? I answered all your questions about my sex life. What about yours? I suppose you’ve done it everywhere.”

“As a matter of fact,” she lit another Camel, “we have. We’ve done it everywhere and in every way.” She delved into a detailed description of oral sex, and then to a time they sneaked into a porn movie and did it in the back row. She even told me about a ménage a trios with one of her friends. “Maybe if you come to
California
sometime…”

If I was a cartoon character, my jaw would have dropped to the floor and my eyes would have popped out of my head. I had never heard of such things before. She gauged my reaction; I was disgusted and repulsed.

She watched me absorb and register all the information, and then she laughed. “I’m just kidding. I’m a virgin, too.”

I wasn’t so sure. I never knew when she was lying or telling the truth. Just like the thing with the Porsche, it was hard to differentiate her fact from her fiction.

Cassie and I continued to grow closer while Grace and I moved apart. I noticed changes in Grace. Her makeup seemed more obvious, she started wearing expensive brand-name shoes, and suddenly
French manicure
became a working part of her vocabulary. We didn’t have any classes together. On the other hand, Grace and Trina had the same History and Science classes. And the same lunch period. So I knew where the influence came from. And, what was worse, I knew the methodology behind Trina’s kindness toward Grace. Grace didn’t. She worked years to achieve Trina’s affections and now she had them, real or not.

“What’s happening to our friendship?” I asked, catching up with her in the Commons.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grace looked around, sounding aloof. 

“We don’t hang out anymore. What happened to the old Grace?"

“Quit asking me that,” she said, finally looking at me. “So we both have new friends. Big deal.”

“You can’t possibly consider her a friend after all she’s done to—”

Grace cut me off. “If you’re talking about Trina, it’s you she hates. Not me.”

“Is that what she told you?”

Grace’s lack of response answered my question.

“She’s using you, Grace. Can’t you see that?” I didn’t want her to get hurt. She saved me once. Now maybe it was my turn to save her.

“Maybe Cassie’s using you. Did you ever think of that?”

Now that she was welcomed into the Company, she had achieved her dream. A dream she’d had since the seventh grade when I first met her. All of this was four years in the making. In exchange for some attention, Grace conveniently forgot the names Trina & Company called us and easily forgave them for everything they’d done. I would never forgive them, and I certainly would not forget.

“Your sister had to leave. I had no choice,” Aunt P shared with me over a Starbucks cappuccino.

The temperature was in the seventies. The first of the spring wildflowers began to bloom. Colter’s lupine and Mexican gold poppies dusted the roadsides. It looked like a Monet painting, and I felt like I was dining in a French café even though I’d never set foot in
France
. I took a bite of my croissant, wanting to indulge in a European moment a little while longer.

“I thought everything was going great.” I sipped my Zen iced tea, watching a middle-aged man relish the tobacco of his Marlboro on the nearby sidewalk. I craved a cigarette. Even a few hits would do.  

“I’m not a mother, Noelle. You know that.”

“But Becca’s nearly eighteen.”

The man caught me staring. He smiled, and I quickly looked away.

Aunt P snapped at me. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”

I knew there was something more to the whole situation that she wasn’t telling me.

“I’m sorry. How are things with you? You have a boyfriend now, don’t you?”

I simply nodded.

“The boy from before?”

I nodded again.

“Whatever you do, don’t let what happened to Becca happen to you. Believe me, it’s not something you want to go through.” She disappeared into herself. Nothing was around her but the images floating through her mind.

“What are you talking about?” I woke her from her stupor.

“You know what I’m talking about. The abortion.”

“Yeah, but what do you know about it? How do you know what Becca went through?”

Aunt P grew nervous, a reaction I never saw surface in her before. She stuffed it down quickly. “Just make sure that boy uses a condom. God knows your mother won’t put you on the pill.”

I ignored her statement and moved on to another subject.

“Why don’t you and my mother get along?” I plunged more deeply into oceans I knew I might not be able to navigate.

“We don’t see eye to eye. We never have.”

“So you hate each other for having different opinions about the world?”

“What are you fishing for, Noelle?”

She’d stopped drinking her cappuccino long ago. Instead, she glanced at her watch, avoiding a discussion of anything real. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to school?”

“Not really.” My lunch hour had ended over a half an hour before she asked me about the time. Class was already in progress, and I was already considered truant. What was the harm in missing the rest?

“I’m not covering for you this time,” Aunt P threatened.

“Fine. I don’t need you to.”

She studied me like a Jackson Pollock, trying to see the person she once knew through the dribbles and splashes of color that masked me like a metaphor.

“Your mother hates everything about me. Everything I am and everything I’ve done clashes with what she holds dear. You want to know why we don’t get along? Ask your mother, the hypocrite.”

Aunt P stood up, abandoning her unfinished drink. She stormed toward the parking lot, leaving me alone with the chain-smoking man.

Every time I thought about confronting my mother, I dismissed the idea. She was unreceptive to questions about her personal life. I had to give Aunt P credit; she found a perfect method of avoidance. She knew I’d never broach the subject with my mother. However, I really wanted to know why Aunt P was ostracized, condemned by the family. I especially had a pounding interest in why she considered my mother a hypocrite. But I wasn’t curious enough to talk to my mother about it. So I let it go.

Saint Sebastian’s held a pep rally in the gym to bolster school spirit and to champion the baseball team during its season. Cassie and I gravitated toward the back of the bleachers to avoid being in the midst of the hoopla.
Chad
, a team member, paraded around the gym with his teammates. I noticed him searching the stands. But in a sea of people, I doubted he’d find me.

Grace sat with Trina & Company in the second-row bleachers. She was only part of their group by appearance. Liana, Jamie, and Trina barely spoke to her. Margaret was the only one to include her in any conversation. I felt a tinge of jealousy while I watched them together. Both of them were supposed to be
my
friends. Now they were teaming up against me. My rage welled.

“I want to get that bitch.”

Cassie followed my line of sight to where Trina sat, giggling with her associates.

“Ruining her party wasn’t enough?”

“No.” We both watched her. “I mean look at her.”

No matter what I did to get back at her, she came through shining more brilliantly than ever. She didn’t even allow the cancellation of her party or the absence from the play to affect her. On the other hand, every hurtful thing she did branded me in some way. She toilet-papered my house, and I was stuck with a limp for weeks; she spray painted my locker and the
loser
trademark was still visible. Now she was stealing Grace from me. I wondered what scars that would leave. Everything she did to me had negative repercussions. The things I did to her always worked in her favor. I wanted to create some scars of my own. She needed a good dose of humiliation.

“You have gym class with her, right?” Cassie asked. Clearly, she was hatching a new plan.

The air outside the PE locker room was humid with tepid pool water and laced heavily with chlorine. It was there that I decided to use my drama techniques and years of experience at feigning illness to my advantage. I waited until everyone was suited up for swimming and situated at the pool before I told Coach Childers I didn’t feel well. I asked her if I could run to the locker room. Thinking I was going to vomit in the pool, she easily dismissed me.

Cassie waited for me inside. She came equipped with a bolt cutter, conveniently stuffed into her backpack. She managed to negotiate the hallways with a stolen pass—one of many she had lifted from her geometry teacher.

I met her at Trina’s locker, keeping watch while she cut the combination lock. My hands sweated and my stomach knotted. Cassie broke the metal and rapidly removed all the clothing inside. She took everything, including Trina’s underwear. She wrapped them in a trash bag, stuffed them into her pack, and closed the locker door.

“You’re up.” She nodded, then took off.

I returned to the pool and sat out, feeling my stomach twist.

When swimming ended, most of the girls headed for the showers. Trina was one of them. I could count on her to wash and primp before going to English—an absolute given.

I didn’t know if I could handle my part of the task. My job was to steal Trina’s bathing suit when she showered, leaving her with nothing to wear. I waited until everyone was busy washing and shampooing before walking through the communal showers. I needed to make sure they were adequately distracted.

Too modest and embarrassed to shower after class, I merely noted where Trina placed her bathing suit. It was always on the bench behind her. It was the only purple one-piece suit in the class. Flashy. Not hard to miss.

As I made my ritualistic journey to my locker, I dropped a trial sized bottle of Suave. As I fumbled to pick it up, I grabbed the bathing suit, tucked it under my towel, and darted for the locker room.

I buried Trina’s swimming suit in a garbage bag at the back of my locker. After dressing, I waited for the bell to ring and Trina’s happiness to unravel.

I saw her emerge with a towel wrapped around her. She muttered something about her missing bathing suit. Her locker was around the corner from mine. I overheard her ranting when she discovered someone had broken into it.