To be Maria (24 page)

           
"Anya, your teachers have been phoning me every day for the last two weeks. They want to know why you've been absent."

            Anya narrows her eyes. "I'm not going back to school."

            Her father appears to be quite taken aback by her forceful response. "Yes you are, Anya."

            "Oh, no I'm not. I can't handle the people there anymore."

            "Bullshit, Anya. You're not quitting school three months before graduation," he says as loud as his feeble voice will let him.

            Anya shoots him a fierce look. She sets her hands on her hips. "And, why do you all of a sudden care about what goes on in my life?"

            "Because you’re the only person in this family who wants to make something of yourself."

            "What family?" she says, her voice escalating. "Adrik is a drug dealer. Sophia just found herself a family. And me; I'm doing the same thing. I have to pack my things now. My
new
sister is waiting for me in her car and I don't want to keep her waiting."

            She is aware that he follows her into her room because as soon as she starts throwing her new clothes onto the bed, he asks, "How did you afford to buy these swanky clothes when you work at a low-end job on the weekends?"

            A sharp pain shoots up the back of Anya's neck when she jerks it in his direction. She groans loudly and angrily. "I don't work anymore. Sophia intentionally got me fired from my job, remember?" She says once the pain subsides.

            "Then, did you steal them?"

            Anya spins on her heels and shoots him a hostile look. "No. A friend bought them for me." She turns her back to him, walks over to the closet, grabs the old, pink suitcase, then throws her clothes into it without first folding them.

            "Who was that girl who stayed here with you?"

            "That's none of your business."

            "Yes it is. I'm your father!"

            She slams the lid of the suitcase down over her disorganized clothes. "Then, where were you the last ten years of my life?" She fastens the suitcase, then brushes past him, her grip firm around the handle.

            "Don't do this, Anya."

            Anya stops in her tracks. She turns around slowly until her eyes meet with his once again. Tears gather in the corner of his pale, grey eyes.

            "I'm sorry, Anya. I'm so sorry."

            She averts her gaze to the floor. Tears spring to her own eyes. She is torn between empathy and hate. It has been a long time since her father last spoke such words to her. Maybe Sophia's decision to leave has made him guilty with the realization of all the wrongs he  committed and now he is desperate to make up to her for all the time that's been lost. Yet, a small voice inside her heads says ‘no’
. He's lying to you. He doesn't mean any of it. You can't trust him.
Anya somehow believes the voice. He’s not trustworthy. And does she really want to go back to the way things were? Live in a small, run-down house that always smells of stale beer, rotten food and dirty clothes; with a parent who can't provide for her because he's too busy playing the victim of some hardship he imagined? She has started her life on a clean slate and, frankly, she's satisfied with her new lifestyle.

            "Don't do this, Anya. Please. You're all that I have left," he says with a tremble in his voice.

            She narrows her eyes. "Well Dad, you should have thought about that years ago before you decided to fuck up our lives." She spins on her heels and this time, she walks out of the house.

            Once Anya steps outside, she inhales a huge gulp of air. The crisp air stings her lungs, but it feels good. She exhales it in one long sigh before she walks over to Marissa’s parked car. Not once does she turn around to catch a glimpse of the little, white house.

            In the car, Marissa gives Anya a worried look. "My God, Anya, your face is beat red. Are you okay?"          

            "I'm fine. I just had a few words with my dad.”

            "And, what did he say?"

            "Oh, nothing much."

            "Well, Anya, you don't have to live in that shit hole anymore. Those days are over," Marissa says, smiling at her reassuringly.

            "Yeah. He also won't ever see me again, and neither will my sister."

            Slight creases form on Marissa's forehead. "You mean Sophia?"

            "Yes. Did Maria tell you about her?"

            "Yes, she told me everything."

            Anya balls her hands into fists. "I'm glad they're out of my life. I hate them. I hope to God I never see them again."

            "Have you ever been to a rave?"

            "No," she says, feeling rather let down by Marissa's evasive attitude.

            "Alex is planning on meeting some friends at the old roller dome tomorrow tonight. That's where the rave is held; every Friday night. It's a lot of fun. You're free to be yourself and no one cares how stupid you act because, at the rave, we're all one big, happy family."

            Anya's eyes widen. "So, I'll finally meet Alex's friends?"     

            "Yes," Marissa says, nodding her head.

            All of her anger turns into excitement. "Sure, I'll go. I can't wait to meet Alex's friends."

            "Great."          

            "Is Maria going to come as well?"

            "Of course. We already talked about it before she went off to work."

            Anya remembers the brace around her neck. Her eyes droop. "I can't go like this, and my neck is still sore."

            "Why not? You wore it everywhere in Vernon and no one judged you for it."           

            "True," Anya says with a sigh.

            "And you had a good time, so why wouldn't you have fun tonight?"

            "I'll have fun tonight. Honestly, I will."

            "I can rub some Traumeel into your neck before we leave."

            "Sure. I just wish I didn't have to wear this brace anymore. I'm beginning to feel like a freak."

            Marissa chuckles. "You're not a freak, Anya. It'll come off soon enough. Next week, so quit worrying."           

            "I can't wait until next week comes."

            "Don't think about next week. Just live for the moment. We're gonna have fun tonight."

            Anya smiles. "Yes we are."

            "You look drop dead gorgeous in that dress!"

            Anya turns around to look at herself in the mirror. The red, halter dress that Marissa bought for her earlier today accentuates her slim figure. The hemline falls about three inches above her knee and the neckline plunges well over halfway down her chest, exposing more than half of her breasts. It is more than what she is comfortable showing, yet most of her new clothes are revealing. Besides most of the time, Maria and Marissa wear clothes that show off their figures. And there is no way Anya is going to wear her old, baggy t-shirts, khakis pants and sweaters. Those days are over. Forever.

            Anya smiles at her reflection. Despite the cumbersome neck brace, she loves the way the dress makes her look. "I love it. Thank you, Marissa. It was so nice of you to buy me this dress."

            "No problem. Now, all you need is some make-up and…we really have to do something with your hair."

            Anya's left hand shoots up to the back of her head. She unties the elastic, letting her hair tumble down her back. It has been two hours since she had a bath, but her hair is still quite wet. The feel of it against her bare, upper back sends cold chills throughout her body.

            "I can blow dry it for you, but I'll have to comb it first," Marissa says.

            Anya can feel her fingers caressing through her hair. Surprisingly, she feels no pain. "Sure. But, I’ll need to put it up after, or braid it."

            "Braids are so old fashioned," Marissa says, wrinkling her nose. "Anya, you can leave your hair down for one night. It's not that heavy. I mean, it's quite thick, but it's just hair. You lived with it all your life, so why would it hurt your neck now?"

            Tears prick Anya’s eyes. "My neck was injured, remember?" Her response is followed by a long pause. She can hear the bristles of her brush weaving their way through her damp hair. She wonders where Maria and Alex are at. The hands on her wrist watch read nine 'o' clock. Maria's shift ended at eight-thirty, so she should have returned by now, and so should have Alex.

            "I'm sorry, Anya," Marissa says, ending the awkward silence. "I didn't mean any of that."

            "It's okay, Marissa."

            "No really. I shouldn't have said what I said."

            "Don't worry about it, Marissa. I'm not mad at you."

            The sound of someone bursting into the apartment startles the two young women.

            Marissa turns. "Who the..."

            "Guess what?" Maria says, appearing in the doorway.

            Anya turns her body around so that she can face her. Maria's face is flushed, her hair disheveled, and she is almost out of breath. Yet her mouth gapes open when she sees Anya.            "Oh my God. Anya, you look hot. That dress is so becoming of you," she says once she catches her breath. "You should wear my silver necklace."

            Anya casts her a thin smile. "Thanks, Maria, but it's a rave, not a cocktail party. I mean, do people actually dress like this to raves?"

            "Some do. Some don't. It all depends on how you feel and what you wanna get out of it. No one cares what you look like," Marissa says.

            "Well, you won't catch me in sweatpants or jeans. I have to keep myself fresh," Maria says, unzipping her ski jacket.

            Anya and Marissa chuckle at her remark.

            "Anyway, I have to get changed, and I also need to fix my hair," she says, slipping out of the coat.

            Anya's eyes fall on her black dress. "You wore that to work?"

            "Yes. It's one of my work outfits."

            "I wear low-cut shirts and dresses at work all the time," Marissa says, sounding as if wearing suggestive clothing on a job site has become the norm.

            "I was just curious, that's all," Anya says with a small shrug of her shoulders.
Since when do employers evade dress codes? Sally forbade everyone to wear revealing clothes. That's why she forced us all to wear beige pants and blue polo shirts.
"Anyway, what do you really want to tell us?" she says, changing the subject.

            "Jeremy said that he would pay for my Serving it Right course and for my Food Safe course as well. He also really likes my work ethic, so he's gonna give me full-time hours as soon as school ends. I didn't tell him that I dropped out, of course. I don't want him to think that I'm an idiot."

            Anya cannot suppress her smile.
No, Maria. He likes your looks and the way you dress. That's why he's doing these things for you. So, maybe if I dress the same way in front of him, he'll hire me as well.
"Congratulations."

            "Yes. Congratulations, Maria. That's so cool. I mean, wouldn't it be something if you went out with your boss?" Marissa says.

            Anya can see a faint red creep onto Maria's face, but it is not the red of embarrassment.

            "Maybe. I don't know. He's ten years older than me."

            "Oh, who cares about age. If he has a good body and is so into you, then go out with him. Maria, it's totally obvious that you like him. And it's clearly obvious that he likes you. Based on what you've been telling us."

            Maria's face widens into a lustful grin. "Well, hopefully soon, we'll be doing more than just going out."

            "Well, if you keep dressing the way you do and smiling at him the way you say you do, then you'll have him in no time," Marissa says.

            Maria's eyes sparkle. "Yeah. Well, with a little time and effort. Anyway, Anya, I've been meaning to ask you this all day. How did it go with your dad and your sister?"

            Anya's eyes droop. "My sister found a new home. And my dad…he didn't want me to go. But I had to. He never gave a crap about me. Life with him was hell on earth, so why he would all of a sudden expect me to stay with him, I don't know."

            "Well, good for you, Anya. You made the right decision," Maria says.

            Anya can see the passion in her eyes. It is comforting to know that Maria cares so much for her.

            "He abandoned you long ago, so he deserves to taste his own medicine," Marissa says.

            "And, you have us now," Maria says, reaching for her hand.