Vicious Little Darlings (18 page)

23

A
gnes drags her Goyard suitcase down the stairs and leaves it by the front door next to Maddy's Prada overnight bag. It's morning, the day before Thanksgiving, and Maddy and Agnes are going home. With one more midterm left, I'm standing in the foyer, chewing on a bagel and watching Agnes secure her luggage tag. I feel like a child waiting for her parents to leave so she can have the house to herself.

Agnes shouts up the stairs, “Maddy, the cab's going to be here any minute!”

Maddy yells back, “Relax! I'm almost ready!”

“Late. Always late,” Agnes mutters.

The phone rings, and Agnes dashes into the kitchen to answer it. A minute later, she comes back and calls out to Maddy, “The cab's here!”

“Okay,” Maddy singsongs.

Agnes looks at me. “Last chance. Sure you don't want to come?”

“Yeah. I have a lot of work to do. I'm behind in all my classes.”

“Yes, you've mentioned that. Several times. Well, if you change your mind, call me.”

Maddy comes running down. “I can't wait to get out of here.” She pulls me into a hug. “I'm gonna miss you, Sarah Bear. What are you gonna do all by yourself?”

“Don't worry about me,” I say.

“But what'll you eat? You'll starve to death.”

“There's plenty of food in the fridge,” Agnes says, buttoning up her long black coat.

Then Agnes does something completely out of character. Without warning, she reaches over and hugs me. It's an awkward, cold embrace, like being hugged without even being touched. “Good luck on your midterm,” she says, pulling away. “We'll be back on Sunday night.”

“Call me if you get bored,” Maddy says. “Or if you get lonely, I could try to come back early.”

“I'll be fine,” I say.

Agnes opens the front door and she and Maddy walk toward the cab.

I close the door. Suddenly the house feels chilly.

I go into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. Then it occurs to me that I can do whatever I want now. My heart quickens.
Whatever I want.
I can crank up the stereo, sing and dance around the house naked, watch TV all day, sleep in, eat in bed, paint.

I sip my coffee, all the while feeling strangely optimistic about everything.

Why the hell can't optimism last? I think I failed my econ midterm and I feel like shit. I should have studied more; I should have memorized my notes. The whole exam was based on the lectures, but I didn't even glance at my notes (which weren't very good anyway). Instead, I studied the stupid textbook and ended up not knowing how to draw the appropriate graphs for half of the questions on the exam.

I walk to the pond to let off some steam. I spot a girl from Haven House whom Agnes and I nicknamed Rah-Rah for her annoying peppiness. I don't even know her real name. Rah-Rah walks toward Haven House, and since I have nothing better to do, I follow her. I stop when she gets to the quad. Standing under the arch, I stare at my old house. I see Amber and Keiko standing outside next to their oversize suitcases. A shuttle van arrives and picks them up. What would've happened had I stayed at Haven House? Would I be climbing into that shuttle van too? Probably not; Nana would have ditched me either way.

I decide it's pointless to dwell on these things. It's time to go home, even though I dread going back to an empty house.

The house is even quieter than before. I turn on the TV and all the lights downstairs, and make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I feel a little off-balance, which is totally ridiculous. I'm an only child; I should be okay with being alone. Yet I have the urge to call somebody. The first person that comes to mind is Reed, but I don't want him to think I'm a baby. Besides, I'm going to see him on Friday and we're going to spend the whole weekend together. Suddenly it occurs to me that, despite being an only child, I've never really been alone like this. I've never had an entire house to myself. Nana—a social butterfly at heart but a homebody in action—was always in the other room.

I take my sandwich into the den and lie on the couch. I channel surf until I stumble upon Hitchcock's
Psycho
on AMC. We had to watch this in my film class. Even though we dissected the shower scene, and I know there's no actual knife-on-skin contact, the movie still spooks me. I mute the sound, and right before the shower scene, I close my eyes.

The doorbell rings. My eyes flip open. Did Reed decide to skip Thanksgiving with his family, after all? I didn't bother to check my messages after my midterm. Maybe he called to tell me he was staying in town.

It rings again. I creep toward the door and look through the peephole, but I can't see anything because it's completely dark out.

Another ring. It can't be Reed; he still doesn't know where I live. I always make him drop me off a block away. Slowly, I back away from the door.

The kitchen phone rings, making me jump. Now would be a good time to have an answering machine, but since we don't, the only way I'm going to find out who's calling is if I pick up the phone. Maybe it's somebody who can rescue me from the intruder outside. Or maybe it's the intruder himself! My hands tremble as I lift the receiver.

“Hello?” I whisper.

“Hey, it's me,” says Maddy. “I'm outside. Open the door already.”

“You scared the hell out of me. Why didn't you use your keys?”

“I left them in my room. Hurry! I'm freezing my butt off.”

I hang up and go to open the door. Maddy's cheeks are whipped pink from the cold.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I decided not to go home.” She throws her overnight bag on the floor.

“Why?”

“Well, I was thinking your idea sounded pretty good—you know, staying in and studying. I think it's about time I got serious about school. Or serious about something.” She slips out of her orange bomber jacket and closes the door.

Is she avoiding her aunt and uncle, or is she up to something?

“Besides,” she says, locking the door, “Thanksgiving just hasn't been the same ever since my parents died.”

“I'm sorry,” I say reflexively. I never know what else to say when this comes up.

“It's okay. Nobody's life is perfect, right?”

We go into the kitchen, where Maddy perches on a bar stool. “So, what are we going to have for dinner? Wanna order pizza?”

“I just made myself a sandwich, but sure, let's order pizza.” The thought of ordering Domino's feels illicit. If Agnes were here, she'd insist on making her own special cheeseless pizza.

I pick up the receiver and dial Domino's.

“I'm so glad I came back,” Maddy says. “I really didn't want to see my aunt and uncle. My aunt actually sounded relieved when I told her I was going to stay at school. I guess she was hoping I'd drop out and marry Sebastian, so she wouldn't have to take care of me anymore. No chance of that happening now.”

I flush at the mention of Sebastian. “So, what happened? You changed your mind at the airport?”

“No. I actually flew into JFK with Agnes, and then I took a flight back.”

“I'm surprised Agnes let you come back alone. She didn't try to convince you to go to
her
house?”

“Well, I didn't exactly tell her I was coming back. I didn't want her to worry.”

“Oh,” I say. We both know that Agnes never would have let her come back to Wetherly alone. “How did you pull that off? Didn't Agnes see you going back inside the terminal?”

“She had a car waiting for her. I told her my uncle was just two minutes away. She wanted to wait with me, but I insisted that she go. I mean, I'll tell her when she gets back, but right now, I just want to veg.”

So I'm not the only person Maddy lies to.

Later, as we're sitting on the couch scarfing down pizza, I start to feel annoyed. Reed is planning to come back the day after tomorrow. This weekend was supposed to be about
us
, and now everything is ruined. Did Maddy sense that I was planning to see Reed? Is she here to sabotage my relationship? Again? I could kick myself. I should've just gone with Reed to his parents' house when he invited me, but, stupidly, I told him we'd have more fun here.

I go upstairs and call Reed's cell. I get his voice mail. He's probably in New Jersey already, asleep after the long drive. I wait for the beep and say, “Hey, sweetie. It's me. I've got some bad news. It looks like I won't be able to hang out this weekend, after all. I'm really sorry. It's kind of an emergency, but don't worry, everything's fine. So, just stay in New Jersey with your family, okay? I'm really sorry, but we'll see each other next week. I love you. Bye.”

As soon as I hang up, Maddy knocks on my door. “Sarah?”

“I'm changing.”

“I don't mind,” she says. “We're both girls, right?” She flings open the door. “Hey, you're not changing.”

“I was about to; I just didn't know what I wanted to change into.”

“Well, pajamas are pajamas, right? Unless you were thinking of going out tonight.”

“No.”

She sits on my bed. “Is everything okay? You seem kind of down. Is it Reed? Do you miss him?”

Maybe she really
is
psychic.

“Breakups are tough, but this is really for the best, Sarah. He wasn't good for our friendship. Don't worry; you'll meet your soul mate. I know there's someone out there who's thinking of you at this very moment.”

“Want to watch a DVD?” I ask, desperate to end this conversation.

“Okay.” Her eyes brighten. “
Beauty and the Beast
? Or
The
Little Mermaid
?”

Just kill me now.
“Whatever you want.” I'll never understand Maddy's Disney fetish.

“No, you pick one,” she whines.

I shrug. “
Beauty and the Beast
.”

“You read my mind!”

“I'll make the popcorn,” I say.

Maddy jumps up and claps. “Goody!”

It's going to be a long night.

24

I
wake up to the smell of butter. It's in my hair, my breath, my pores. It's in the air around me, thick and impossible to breathe.

We binged last night, and now I feel fat and disgusting, like I gained my freshman fifteen overnight. I reach down and feel my ass. Yup, definitely bigger. I look over at Maddy, who's asleep on the loveseat, a softly heaving ball of quilt.

It's close to six o'clock. I wonder if Reed called me back last night. Forcing myself off the couch, I go upstairs. My phone is on the bed where I left it, but there are no new messages or missed calls. I get under the covers and dial Reed's cell. It rings four times before going to voice mail. I decide not to leave him another message. I'll call back later, at a more decent hour.

At eight thirty, my cell phone rings sharply, jarring me awake.

I reach for the phone. It's Reed. “Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” He sounds happy. “I'm five minutes away. Give me your address so I can come over.”

“You're
here
?”

“Yeah, I missed you too much. I told my parents I had to come back and spend Thanksgiving with you.”

“But didn't you get my message?” I ask.

“What message?”

“The one I left you last night.”

“I didn't get any messages.”

“But I left you one. I wish you'd called me earlier, because now you drove all this way for nothing.”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

“Don't be mad. Something came up, and I can't get together this weekend after all.”

“What?” he says sharply.

“Yeah, I know. I'm really sorry. I want to see you and everything, but I can't leave the house.”

“We can stay in,” he says, perking up.

“No.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“I can't really get into it right now.”

“Are you serious? Don't you think you owe me an explanation? I drove all the way from New Jersey on Thanksgiving Day just to see you, and now you're telling me I can't see you, and you won't even tell me why?”

What can I say? That I fucked my roommate's boyfriend and then stupidly confessed, and then my roommate got angry and blamed me for losing the so-called love of her life—whom I don't think she ever really loved—but, in return for the mess I made, I promised to give up
my
boyfriend to prove to my roommate how much she means to me? The truth is fucking ridiculous.

“I'm coming down with something,” I say. “The flu, I think.”

“The flu?” he says, exhaling. “Why didn't you say so? I'll come take care of you.”

“No. It's really bad.” I fake a cough. “I don't want you to catch it.”

“I don't care if I catch it.”

“It's not just that. My roommate decided to stay in town at the last minute, so I don't even have the house to myself anymore.”

“And you're not worried about infecting your roommate?”

“She got the flu shot. Anyway,” I say, trying to sound hopeful, “I'm sure I'll be better by Monday, or maybe even Sunday night. So we'll see each other in a few days.”

Silence.

“Sarah,” he finally says, “I don't care if you give me the flu. We can be sick together. Don't you get it? I just want to see you. I
need
to see you.”

“I want to see you too … but I can't.”

“I was looking forward to spending the whole weekend with you. You're my girlfriend. It's fucking Thanksgiving. What am I supposed to do by myself on Thanksgiving?”

I let the question hang in the air.

“Sarah … do you even love me?”

Sighing, I say, “Of course I love you. I love you so much. Why would I be with you if I didn't?”

“I don't know. But it doesn't seem like you do anymore. You hide me from your roommates, and, after all this time, I still haven't seen your room. I don't even know where you live, for Christ's sake. I mean, call me crazy, but don't you think that's a little weird?”

Weird? I no longer know the meaning of weird. Things have been weird ever since I arrived at Wetherly. Everything is so weird that it's starting to feel normal.

When I don't respond, Reed says sourly, “I gave you my Thanksgiving.”

And the way he says it, the way he whines it, makes me hate him for a second. He's a big whiny baby.

“I didn't ask you to give me your Thanksgiving,” I say coldly. “And I didn't ask you to come back a day early.
You
made that decision.
You
should've checked with me first. That's what phones are for. So don't blame
me
.”

“You're right. Excuse me for trying to surprise my girlfriend.”

“Some surprise,” I snap. It stuns me how cruel I sound. Cold and bitter.

“I don't think this is working,” he says.

“Fine,” I say. “Why don't we talk later, when we're both calmer?”

“No, I mean
we're
not working, Sarah.”

My heart drops.

“Maybe we should just end this before it gets ugly,” he says.

My heart drops another inch. I want to say:
No, we can work this out. Don't give up. I love you. Don't leave me.
But instead, I say nothing.

A minute passes. I steel myself. “You're right,” I say. “This isn't going to work.” It stuns me that I've just used Maddy's words on him. Well, maybe she was right. My parents never taught me how to love, so how could I have a normal relationship? Because of my fucked-up childhood, Reed and I were doomed from the start.

“Anyway, we tried, right?” He pauses. “Things just didn't work out for us.”

“I have to go,” I say, and hang up quickly.

I tent myself under the sheets and let the tears drain out of me. This is all Maddy's fault. She did this. I hate, hate,
hate her
! Why did she have to come back and ruin my plans? She had no right to tell me to break up with Reed. Who does she think she is? She's nobody, nothing. If she hadn't asked me to break up with him, I wouldn't have had to sneak around behind her back, and I'd still have a boyfriend right now. If she hadn't done that stupid reading on me and told me I was unlovable, I would have had more faith in myself and in Reed. If she hadn't come home, I would be with him this very minute, in his bed, in his arms. I should have told her to fuck off.

I sneak into Maddy's room, open the top drawer of her bureau, and steal a couple of Valiums. They'd better take away this pain; otherwise, I'll have to kill her.

Sometime around noon, Maddy comes knocking on my door.

When I don't answer, she goes ahead and opens it. I hear her skip toward my bed. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” she says. “Time to rise and shine!”

I bury my head under the pillow. I may be groggy and tired, but I'm still furious. I try to will her out of my room.

It doesn't work.

She sits down on my bed and starts to bounce, gradually working up her speed. Yes, she's going to annoy me to death. I keep my head under the pillow. The last thing I want is to see that dumb face of hers.

She laughs. “Hey, wake up. I want to go to the mall.”

Go away.

She tugs the pillow off my head.

“You awake yet?”

“No,” I groan.

“Want to go to the mall?”

“It's Thanksgiving.”

“So?”

“The mall's closed on Thanksgiving.”
Dumb ass.

“Oh. Well, let's do Thanksgiving then. Let's go buy a huge turkey and some yams and stuffing and cook it all up.”

“I'm sick.”

“Oh, no.” Her voice rises an octave. “Can I get you anything? Some Advil or echinacea or chamomile tea?”

“Just let me sleep.”

“Sure you don't need anything?”

“Positive.”

“At least now you have an excuse for your boss.”

I open my eyes. “What?”

“You were supposed to work this weekend, right? Now you can call him and tell him you're sick.”

“Oh,” I say. I'd forgotten about that lie. “Right.”

“Or do you want me to call him?”

“No, I'll do it. Later.”

“Okay. I'm gonna cook us a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner all by myself.”

“You don't cook,” I say.

“All I have to do is follow the directions. Go back to sleep. I'll check on you when I get back from Stop & Shop.”

After Maddy leaves, I reach for my phone, hoping Reed called me back to say he changed his mind and that he still loves me. I try to keep the fantasy going, despite the fact that my phone hasn't rung once since our fight and there are no new messages. I decide to swallow my pride and be the first to call.

I dial his cell and wait. He doesn't pick up. I call his house. It rings and rings. I hang up, wait ten minutes and try his cell again. Still nothing. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes go by. He doesn't call back. Maybe he went back to New Jersey. Or maybe he's sitting at home, ignoring my calls, trying to drive me crazy. Maybe he just hates me and never wants to speak to me again. I doubt he ever really loved me. He was probably in love with the idea of love.
Asshole.
And it's true: he broke my heart just as Maddy predicted. It's good that I didn't sacrifice my friendship with Maddy for him. He's a jerk, a jerk in sheep's clothing.

But there were times when I actually felt that he loved me. His presence made me feel safe and immune to pain. Or maybe I'm the one who was in love with love. Maybe I tricked myself into thinking I loved him because I liked the idea of someone being in love with me. Maddy's right; he wasn't good for me. Artists. They're so fickle and insecure and self-absorbed. They make the worst boyfriends.

Through the foggy haze of Valium, I see a hand coming toward me. It lands on my forehead, soft and cool.

“No fever,” Maddy says. “Feel better?”

Nope, still feel like shit
. Despite nearly convincing myself that Reed wasn't right for me, I still miss him like crazy. I feel like I'm missing an arm or a kidney.

“I brought you medicine,” Maddy says. “Here, sit up.”

I do as she says. When I see the concern in her eyes, my hatred for her lessens. She hands me a glass of water and two orange pills and I swallow them without asking what they are. I may not have the flu, but I am in pain. I'd down a bottle of bleach if it would take away this horrible, sinking feeling.

“Come downstairs,” she says. “Dinner's ready.”

She grabs my arm and pulls me out of bed.