“Um, yes. Deal with it,” Marcie said.
The two girls on either side of Marcie made a big show of pouting. Odds were they were Addyson Hales and Cassie Sweeney. Addyson was a cheerleader like Marcie, but I’d once overheard Marcie confess that the only reason she was friends with Cassie was because they lived in the same neighborhood. Their bond was due to the simple fact that they could afford the same lifestyle. Peas in a pod — a very affluent pod.
“Don’t even start,” Marcie said, but the smile in her voice clearly stated she was flattered by their disappointment. “My mom needs me. Girls’ night out.”
“Is she … you know … depressed?” the girl I believed to be Addyson asked.
“Seriously?” Marcie laughed. “She got to keep the house. She’s still a member of the yacht club. Plus she made my dad buy her a Lexus SC10. It’s sooo cute! And I swear half the single guys in town have already called or stopped by.” Marcie ticked each item off on her fingers so fluidly it made me think she’d been rehearsing this speech.
“She’s so beautiful.” Cassie sighed.
“Exactly. Whoever my dad hooks up with will be a major downgrade.”
“Is he seeing anybody?”
“Not yet. My mom has friends all over. Somebody would have seen something. So,” she transitioned with a gossipy voice, “did you guys see the news? About Nora Grey?”
My knees went a little soft at the mention of my name, and I flattened a hand to the wall for support.
“They found her in the cemetery, and they’re saying she can’t remember anything,” Marcie went on. “I guess she’s so messed up she even ran from the police. She thought they were trying to hurt her.”
“My mom said she was probably brainwashed by her kidnapper,” Cassie said. “Like some skeezy guy could have made her think they were married.”
“Ew!” they all said in unison.
“Whatever happened, she’s damaged goods now,” Marcie said. “Even if she says she can’t remember anything, she knows what happened subconsciously. She’s going to be dragging around that baggage for the rest of her life. She might as well wrap herself in yellow tape that says, ‘Stay out and do not cross.’”
They giggled. Then Marcie said, “Back to class, girlies. I’m clean out of late passes. The secretaries keep locking them in their drawers. Whores.”
I waited long after they had filed out, just to be sure the bathroom and halls would be empty. Then I hustled through the door. I speed-walked all the way to the end of the hall, shoved through the outside exit, and broke into a jog toward the student parking lot.
I flung myself inside the Volkswagen, wondering why I’d ever believed I could waltz back into my life and expect to pick up right where things had left off.
Because that was exactly it. Things hadn’t left off.
They’d moved on without me.
CHAPTER 7
I PREPPED FOR DINNER WITH HANK AND MY MOM by changing into flats and a billowy bohemian dress that fell above the knee.
It was nicer than Hank deserved, but I had an ulterior motive. Tonight’s goal was twofold. First, make my mom and Hank wish they’d never invited me. Second, make my stance on their relationship crystal clear. I was already mentally rehearsing my discourse, which I’d deliver on my feet at top volume, and it would end when I doused Hank with his own glass of wine. I intended to usurp Marcie’s Diva Queen throne tonight, my own propriety be damned.
But first things first. I had to lull Mom and Hank into believing I was in the right frame of mind to be taken into public. If I exited my bedroom foaming at the mouth and dressed in a black LOVE SUCKS tee, my plan would never get off the ground.
I’d spent thirty minutes in the shower, hot water beating every inch of my body, and after vigorously scrubbing and shaving, I’d pampered my skin with baby oil. The tiny cuts crisscrossing my arms and legs were healing fast, as were the bruises, but both shed a crack of unwanted light on what life had been like during my abduction. Combined with the filthy skin I’d arrived at the hospital with, my best guess was that I’d been held deep in the woods. Somewhere so remote, it would have been impossible for a passerby to stumble across me. Somewhere so godforsaken that my chances of escaping and surviving would be to next to nothing.
But I must have escaped. How else could I explain making it back home? Adding to this speculation, I envisioned the dense forests spanning northern Maine and Canada. Though I had no evidence to prove I had been held there, it was my best guess. I’d escaped, and against all odds, I’d survived. It was my only working theory.
On my way out of my bedroom, I hesitated in front of the mirror long enough to scrunch my hair. It was longer now, falling halfway down my spine, with natural caramel highlights, thanks to summer’s sun. I’d definitely been someplace outdoors. My skin held a kiss of bronze, and something told me I hadn’t been hiding out in a tanning salon all those weeks. I had the aimless thought to buy new makeup, then scratched it. I didn’t want new makeup to match the new me. I just wanted the old me back.
Downstairs, I met Hank and my mom in the foyer. I vaguely noted that Hank looked like a life-size Ken doll with icy blue eyes, a golden skin tone, and an impeccable side part. The only discrepancy was Hank’s lithe build. In a brawl, Ken would have won, hands down.
“Ready?” Mom asked. She was all dressed up too, in lightweight wool pants, a blouse, and a silk wrap. But I was more aware of what she wasn’t wearing. For the first time, her wedding band was missing, leaving a pale stripe around her ring finger.
“I’ll drive separately,” I said brusquely.
Hank squeezed my shoulder playfully. Before I could squirm away, he said, “Marcie is the same way. Now that she has her license, she wants to drive everywhere.” He raised his hands as if offering no argument. “Your mother and I will meet you there.”
I debated telling Hank that my wanting to drive separately had nothing to do with a piece of plastic in my wallet. And a lot more to do with the way being around him made my stomach roll.
I swiveled to face my mom. “Can I have money for gas? Tank’s low.”
“Actually,” Mom said, aiming a help me with this look at Hank, “I was really hoping to use this time for the three of us to talk. Why don’t you drive with us, and I’ll give you money to fill up the car tomorrow?” Her tone was polite, but there was no mistaking. She wasn’t offering me a choice.
“Be a good girl and listen to your mother,” Hank told me, flashing a perfectly straight, perfectly white smile.
“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk at dinner. I don’t see the big deal in driving by myself,” I said.
“True, but you’re still going to have to ride with us,” Mom said. “Turns out I’m all out of cash. The new cell phone I bought you today wasn’t cheap.”
“I can’t pay for gas with your credit card?” But I already knew her answer. Unlike Vee’s mom, my mom never loaned me her credit card, and I didn’t have the moral flexibility to “borrow” it. I supposed I could have used my own money, but I’d taken a stand and I wasn’t backing down now. Before she could shoot me down, I added, “Or what about Hank? I’m sure he’ll spot me twenty dollars. Right, Hank?”
Hank tipped his head back and laughed, but I didn’t miss the lines of irritation forming around his eyes. “You’ve got quite the negotiator on your hands, Blythe. Instinct tells me she didn’t inherit your sweet, unassuming nature.”
Mom said, “Don’t be rude, Nora. Now you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Carpooling for one night isn’t going to kill you.”