Splintered (12 page)

Huddling underneath her umbrella, she didn’t stop until she reached the golden arches of a McDonald’s. She sat there for a couple of hours, but she couldn’t handle the smell of frying foods any longer. She’d only had enough change on her for a small soda, which she kept refilling at the drink station. Her empty stomach gurgled in protest as she left and headed toward the library.

Once there, she shrugged off the questioning looks from moms with toddlers in tow. She figured their parent radar probably honed in on the fact that she’d skipped school. Maddy kept her head down until she reached her favorite table—the one in the back near the adult reference section. She dropped off her stuff to save the spot and headed for the shelves of fiction novels.

She’d always enjoyed books, but had become a hard-core reader over the last year. It was a way to escape the confines of her bedroom, to transport herself to another time. A chance to become someone else. Her favorite novels were dystopian fantasies with badass girls who saved the day. Whether it was Katniss, who fought through the games to become a victor, or Tris, who battled the Erudites to save her family, she liked smart, tough girls. None of them needed a guy to feel complete.

Maddy was sick to death of that message being crammed down her throat, the one where the princess needed to be saved by a handsome prince in order to live happily ever after. She couldn’t understand all the hoopla surrounding boys. They were gross, always trying to play grab-ass in the hallways at school. Anyway, she had learned they couldn’t be counted on to stick around.

When Maddy hung around Sabrina and her friends, boys were the usual topic of conversation. Who liked who, which were good kissers, who had big peckers. To go along with the group, Maddy had lied and told everyone she’d lost her virginity the previous year. Some of the girls didn’t believe her, and she had been forced to describe her fictional encounters to save face. The only thing that had saved her was the fact she’d stumbled upon a website full of stories about sexual encounters when she had been researching a paper for school. Maddy usually stayed away from online porn sites. She found the pictures disgusting, and had quickly learned that once you saw a girl masturbating on a guitar, nothing could scrub that picture from your mind. But the site she had read only had stories about sex acts on it. Maddy’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d read for hours. When the girls had pressed her for specifics, Maddy had seamlessly weaved in the details she’d read about, finally convincing them she’d had several lusty encounters.

Maddy continued strolling down the aisle between the stacks, running a finger over the book spines until she came to
H
. She selected a Margaret Haddix novel, the only one left on the shelf. It was a title she’d already read twice, but it was one of her favorites.

When her phone started vibrating in her back pocket, Maddy moved the book to the crook of her arm and pulled it out. She saw it was her mom and let the call go to voice mail.

A librarian came around the corner and glared at her when she saw that she was holding a phone. It was against the rules to use it inside the building. Maddy ducked around the back of a tall bookshelf and skulked back to her table. Once seated, she faced the wall and listened to the message.

Her mom had gotten a call from school tattling on Maddy’s absence.

Uh-oh. Mom’s throwing out “young lady” again.

Maddy hated being referred to that way. She tuned out the rest of her mom’s rant. It was only a repeat performance of last night, so she deleted the message before it even finished playing.

A few minutes later, Maddy felt another vibration. She looked at the phone to see who it was, but ignored it when she saw that it was her mom again. She put her feet up on the chair across from her and sat back.

Time to immerse myself in the book, to step into Nina’s life and take down the population police.

Maddy couldn’t hold off her grumbling belly any longer. When she stood and gathered her things, she remembered the phone call she’d missed. She pulled out her cell and saw that time had flown and it was late afternoon.

Maddy played the second voice mail message. She couldn’t stop the smile forcing its way to the surface as she listened to the rich warmth in her mom’s words. She had to admit her mom was a pushover on everything except her safety.

That’s one area she’s an over-the-top, psycho mom.

She suddenly remembered the days when her mom would sit on the edge of her bed, trailing small circles across her back while telling her stories of exotic animals who would find themselves in the strangest situations. Her mom had finally figured out Maddy only needed some time away, some space to recharge. Missing a day of school wasn’t a big deal. Nothing to throw a hissy fit about. Her mom had even suggested a girl’s day out. Maddy wasn’t sure about the whole talking part, but she could definitely go for a good foot massage.

The nail salon her mom used to take her to gave the best foot rubs. Mom always got the full treatment—fingers and toes painted. Maddy only got her toes done since her fingernails were habitually bitten down to the nub. Mom had promised Maddy she’d be able to get her fingernails done too if she could stop biting them. Somehow that incentive was never enough to cure the vice though.

Maddy headed toward the library’s checkout counter. Even though she knew how the Haddix novel ended, she wouldn’t dream of keeping Nina hanging. Maddy had to see the story through to the end so the characters could find a peace, however brief, before the next book in the series pitted them against each other once again.

She texted her mom a short message: BEEN AT LIBRARY. LEAVING NOW.

As she shuffled past the circulation desk, a folded-up copy of the
Tampa Tribune
on its corner caught her eye. A librarian stood behind the large piece of furniture, her head down, typing on a computer. A man leaned over, trying to read the screen. Maddy scootched up to the desk, then reached forward to grab a free bookmark declaring, “Reading is Remarkable.” As she moved her hand away, she grabbed the newspaper and tucked it under her arm.

Maddy hurried out of the library and sat down on a bench right outside the double doors. She unfolded the paper, checking the date.

Good, it’s today’s copy.

The rain had stopped, but the wind had picked up and she fought it with every page turn until she found what she’d been looking for, on page five:

Attempted Abduction in Temple Terrace a Hoax

Temple Terrace police say the fifteen-year-old girl who reported an attempted abduction during the early morning hours of September 21 admitted she lied. The girl had initially reported that a man grabbed her and tried to throw her into a nearby van while she waited for her school bus. There were no eyewitnesses to the event, but a neighbor came forward with surveillance footage that proved the girl made the entire story up.

Temple Terrace resident Paul Gleason had this to say: “I’d been visiting my mother for her sixtieth birthday, so I had no idea all of this transpired right outside my front door. When I got back in town and saw the news reports, I checked my surveillance camera to find out if it had captured the guys on video. I wanted to help the poor girl out and get those savages off our streets. But the only thing I saw was the girl waving her hands back and forth to make the bus driver stop. I didn’t see anyone grab her. She made the whole thing up. What kind of kid would do something like that?”

The State Attorney’s office was contacted, asking if charges would be brought against the girl for filing a false police report. The SA would not comment, other than to say his office is taking the matter under consideration.

Tears welled up in Maddy’s eyes as she stuffed the newspaper into the trash can. She readjusted her backpack before heading home, her hungry belly now the least of her concerns.

“Maddy? Maddy?”

When Maddy heard her mom’s voice on the other side of her bedroom door, she quickly pulled the covers up over her head. She burrowed deep beneath them even though the room felt like a sauna. Maddy could hear the concern in her mom’s voice. Evening had arrived, and all the lights in the house were turned off. She’d probably thought the place was empty.

Maddy’s door opened, and she heard a loud sigh. She waited for the explosion of rants that would almost certainly begin with “young lady.” At the sound of silence, Maddy peeked out from underneath the cover. Her mom stood backlit against the open door. Her eyes were closed, and she was mouthing something to herself. Maddy had witnessed the habit numerous times and always thought it ridiculous. Counting to ten never worked—her mom’s anger never went away.

“Tough day, huh?” Lily finally said. A tiredness marked each word.

“Tough year.” Maddy rolled over to face the wall.

Lily grunted in agreement. She sat down on Maddy’s bed and laid a hand on the blanket covering her daughter’s shoulder.

Please tell me a story, MomMom. I can’t handle another lecture. Let’s rewind the clock, pretend Dad’s away on one of his work trips, and that I can still do no wrong in your eyes.

“So you thought you’d skip school, huh?”

Maddy tensed up. Her mom dropped her hand away.

“I understand why you didn’t go in,” Lily said. “I don’t condone the behavior, but I do understand it. Ever since your father left, we’ve both been spiraling out of control. Both grieving on our own instead of helping prop each other up. I’m sorry. I’ve been so absorbed in my own pain that I haven’t been there for you. You must feel so alone, like everyone’s abandoned you.”

Maddy turned over and looked at her mom. Silent tears were rolling down Maddy’s face.

Lily nodded. “Your father left and you were forced out of the only home you’ve ever known. I checked out emotionally. Even Aunt Emma has been MIA. It must feel like your entire world has flipped upside down.”

“I don’t know why I made up that story, Mom. I guess I felt invisible. Like if I disappeared, no one would even notice. I wanted to see if my absence would make a difference.”

“It would. It so would. I’d die if anything happened to you, Maddy. I might not say it enough or show it in the way you’d prefer, but I love you dearly. You’re my entire world.”

“I’m sorry . . . for lying. For worrying you.”

“How can we move past all this?”

Maddy shook her head.

Her mom looked equally perplexed as to how to put the pieces of their lives back together. After a few moments she said, “I think it starts with you getting back on task. That means back to school tomorrow, start—”

“I can’t!” Maddy practically howled. She sat up, but kept the covers tightly bunched up underneath her armpits. “Have you seen today’s paper?”

“No. What’s in it?”

“There’s an article saying I made the whole thing up.”

“It doesn’t use your name, does it?”

“No, but everyone at school knows it’s me. Yesterday they were all congratulating me, giving me high-fives and pats on the back. Now they’re going to know I lied. I can’t face them.”

“Maddy, it won’t be that bad.”

“Really, Mom? The whispers behind my back, the pointing and laughing? How can I ever show my face at school again?”

“You can’t stop going to school. You’re only fifteen.” Lily sighed.

Maddy couldn’t stand that noise. She flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Do you think I like going to work every day? Do you think I enjoy waiting on rich women who can’t decide whether to pick striped or paisley scrapbook paper to use to show off their latest Caribbean vacation? No. But I still get up every morning and I do it. Just like you will get up tomorrow morning and go to school.”

Maddy continued glaring at the cracked lines above her. She bit her lip, refusing to talk so she wouldn’t say the thoughts really racing through her mind.

“You made up this fantastical lie, Maddy. What did you think would happen? There are consequences to our actions, young lady.”

Maddy turned her head and glared at her mom. She’d had enough. “You’re such a bitch sometimes. No wonder Dad left you.”

Lily gasped. Her head snapped sideways, as if the words had been a physical slap.

Maddy couldn’t stop herself. The anger boiled up from a pit deep inside her, and she spewed words out with the force of a volcanic eruption. “You’re a frigid, cold-hearted woman. You never showed Dad any affection. No wonder he walked out. You didn’t love him, so he went looking for it somewhere else. I’m telling you right now, I won’t go back to that school! I’m going to go live with Dad.”

In a measured voice, Lily said, “You will go back to school tomorrow, and the next day. Even the day after that. If you think you had a horrible life before, young lady, just you wait. Miss one more day of school and I’ll take away the computer, your phone—anything that gives you even the smallest amount of pleasure.”

“That’s bullshit! I’m calling Dad.”

“Go right ahead.” Lily got up and walked over to the door. She stood halfway out of the room with one hand gripping the doorknob. “He dumped you, just like he did me. Tell me, Maddy, how do you plan on convincing your father to come to the rescue when he won’t even return your phone calls?”

Lily turned and quietly closed the door behind her.

“Haven’t you left yet?” Ben asked Emma over the phone.

“I’m walking out right now,” Emma said.

“So you’re telling me that you’re
not
still sitting at the computer?”

Ben knew her all too well. Emma stood up and grabbed her blazer off the back of her chair. She shuffled the phone from one ear to the other as she slid it on. “I’m waiting for the elevator.” Emma bent over to shut her computer off and grabbed her half-empty can of Red Bull off the desk.

Ben sighed. “You’ve missed two dress fittings already. My sister has been extremely patient. Far more so than you deserve. Don’t stand her up again.”

“Please don’t be a nagging wife, Ben. It’s not like I ditched her on purpose. I had important cases. I couldn’t leave in the middle of the day to go dress shopping.” Emma pushed the down button once she reached the bank of elevators. “How in the world did you rope me into this thing anyway?”