An Unstill Life (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

B
ianca and I escaped the building through the side door by the lunchroom. The bell rang as we crossed the athletics field, heading for the parking lot. People rushed by us on their way back inside, but no one stopped to stare. I knew it would be different tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The word gnawed holes in my gut, freeing the spiraling worms that crept through it. My head spun, and for a moment I thought I might vomit. It passed though, and I stumbled on behind Bianca.

Inside her car, I breathed easier. The metal box contained me, protected me.

“You okay?” Bianca glanced over at me as she jammed the keys into the ignition.

I shook my head. How could I be okay? The world had just exploded. Again.

“C’mon. We’ll go to my place. It’ll be okay, Livvie. Maybe.” She gave me a wry smile. I wished she hadn’t added that last word. It didn’t give me much comfort. I tried to return the smile, but it didn’t work. My lips trembled so much I was afraid they might slither right off my face. Why was I smiling anyway? I didn’t have anything to smile about. My sister was dying, my mom wasn’t talking to me, and now it looked like I’d just lost my best friend.

Or had I?

We pulled up to a stop sign, and Bianca looked over at me again. She didn’t appear rattled at all. Her posture was relaxed, her face smooth. How could she be so unconcerned?

“Aren’t you worried?” I asked as the car leaped forward again.

She shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I don’t care what any of those kids think of me. I know who I am.”

She was so brave. So strong. I wished I had that confidence in myself. “I wish I didn’t,” I sighed.

“Yeah, me too.”

Bianca’s house was small. A low, single-storied bungalow on a quiet street about ten blocks from school. She parked in the driveway and led me around to the back door. Green paint peeled from it in long strips that shifted in the wind. I stood there, mesmerized by their movement and the intense licorice flavor of the color.

“Come in.” Bianca shoved open the door, revealing a chaotic kitchen. “It’s kind of a mess, I know.”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled. “You should see our kitchen.” For a moment I could see it, the piled up dishes, the near-empty cabinets.

“Yeah. Mom’s not that into housework, and neither am I.”

“Did I hear my name?” As if summoned, Bianca’s mom walked into the room. I couldn’t figure out what to look at first—her hair, her clothes, or the tattoos. “School finish early today?”

There was no anger in her voice. In fact, a candy-pink note of amusement played through her words. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The word mother couldn’t apply to this tall woman whose heavily tattooed arms hung from the straps of her tight black tank top. More tattoos peeked out from under the neckline, licking up her throat and over her shoulders. Her hair was cropped short and dyed a brilliant red that sent fiery darts of sweetness across my tongue.

“This must be Livvie.” She turned her eyes on me, and I was shocked by the familiarity. She had Bianca’s eyes, round, huge and brilliant blue. Eyes that saw beyond the surface and peeked deep into my soul. Eyes that measured the weight of my life.

“Yeah. Mom, Livvie. Livvie, this is my mom. You can call her Trish.” Bianca pulled out a chair and sprawled into it, gesturing for me to do the same.

I didn’t move. I was glued to the spot, unable to take my eyes off this woman who had brought Bianca into the world. “Uh…hi.” I couldn’t believe Bianca had spoken to her mother about me. What had she said? My cheeks burned yet again. Had she told her everything? No, she wouldn’t do that.

Footsteps echoed behind me, and I whirled around. Another woman entered the room. Shorter than Trish, she had long platinum hair and more facial piercings than I could count.

“Hey, B,” she drawled, nodding in Bianca’s direction as she crossed to where Trish stood by the sink. Without a word she gathered Bianca’s mother into her arms and kissed her. “Morning, baby.”

I was drowning. My lungs gasped for air even as I gulped it down. I turned to Bianca, certain my panic showed on my face.

“Aww, get a room, you two.” Bianca stood up, giving the pair a disgusted look. She grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the doorway. “C’mon, Livvie.”

Bianca’s room was large. Posters and paintings vied for space on the walls. Red and purple scarves draped the ceiling, giving the whole room a strange glow. Bianca closed the door and dropped down on the large, unmade bed that sat in the center of the floor.

“Sorry about that.” She kicked off her boots. “Early days, you know? Lily’s big on PDA. Don’t think it’ll last too long though. Mom’s not.”

I stared at her from where I stood just inside the doorway. My mind was one huge blur of thoughts, none of them coherent enough to put into words.

“PDA? Public displays of affection? You don’t know the term?”

“So… You’re… I mean, your—” I gave up and gave a helpless gesture with my hands.

Bianca got up and walked toward me, leading me over to the bed and pressing on my shoulders to make me sit. “Yeah, Mom’s a dyke, too. I guess that’s why I’m pretty comfortable with my sexuality. Although I’m not a slut like her.”

My head shot up. Slut? How could she get away with using a word like that? And to describe her mother? A million questions whirled through my mind, but only one came out. “But if she’s… Then how did you—” I couldn’t finish with my face flaming like that.

But Bianca got it. “Oh, I was the result of a single experiment with heterosexual sex. Apparently, she got curious about it in her twenties and decided to give it a shot. I guess she didn’t think about birth control.”

So she was an accident, too. “Is Lily her girlfriend then?”

Bianca laughed. “Lily? Oh, maybe this week. Or this weekend. You know how guys are notoriously bad at commitment? Mom’s like that. She likes having girls to sleep with, but she hates being tied down to just one.”

Okay. So that’s where the slut came from. I tried to grasp what Bianca’s life might be like, but I couldn’t. How could she accept this random assortment of women wandering in and out of her life? Didn’t she long for stability? Then again, on second thought… I shook my head.

“Look, it’s weird, I know, but I’ve grown up this way. I’m used to it. And it’s fine. I want Mom to be happy. She’s way easier to deal with that way.”

There was a tap on the door.

“Yeah?” Bianca called.

The door opened, and Trish poked her head in. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re home from school at one thirty in the afternoon? Are you in trouble?”

“We probably will be.” Bianca grinned. “One of Livvie’s friends snapped us kissing in the art room. I thought we should lie low while the rumors fly.”

“I take it you’re not out then?” Trish’s eyes rested on me. Kind eyes that caressed my skin like a soft pink blanket. Out? Should I be? The whole idea of being with a girl was so new to me. Girls shouldn’t love girls. Girls should love boys. But kissing Bianca made fireworks explode inside me; kissing Jesse had set alarm bells ringing.

“No, she’s not. Well, actually, I guess she probably is now.” Bianca tossed me an apologetic glance. “What are the chances of Hannah not telling anyone?”

My mouth twisted sourly. “Pretty small, I guess?”

“That’s tough.” Trish stepped further into the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. “But sometimes it’s easier to let the truth out. Keeping secrets is so exhausting. If they’re real friends, once they get over the shock, they won’t care anymore.”

“Maybe…” I didn’t believe it though. I’d known Hannah all my life.

“Look, Livvie. I know it’s hard. But coming out is something you only have to do once. And once you’ve done it, there’s no more hiding. No more secrets. I’m proud of both of you for doing it so young. It took me until I was twenty-one to admit it to myself and another three years to tell anyone. Embrace who you are, and you’ll be a whole lot happier.”

“Yeah, it’s worked well for me. Look how happy I am.” Bianca’s voice dripped lime-green sarcasm.

“You’re happier than you let yourself be,” Trish said. “Now, I have to go down and inventory the booze at the club. You girls want to come and help?”

“No thanks.” Bianca rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and muttered something that sounded like ‘slave labor’.

Trish glided across the room and kissed the top of Bianca’s head. “Well, okay then. I’ll see you at dinner. Livvie, you’re welcome to stay. You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks Mrs… Um… Trish.” I liked her. I really liked her. She may not have looked like a mother, but she had the wisdom and experience all moms should have. I envied Bianca. No wonder she was comfortable with who she was, had the strength to be a loner. I couldn’t help wondering if I’d have that same strength if I’d been brought up in this environment. I wished I had. If I had that strength, I’d have been able to refuse Jules when she asked me to help her die. Or I’d have the strength to actually do it rather than burying myself in distractions to keep from thinking about it.

After her mother left, Bianca flopped back on the bed, letting the burgundy pillows and quilts swallow her. I lay down, too, cautious, careful not to let any part of my body touch hers. Her mother’s words had given us permission to do what we wanted, yet for once, I wasn’t drawn to touch her.

“I like your mom,” I said shyly. The words were inadequate. I loved her mom. I wanted her for my own. I pictured my own mother and how she’d react. I couldn’t imagine it. She’d be furious about us skipping out of school to begin with. I couldn’t expect any kind of sympathy or understanding there.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool most of the time.” Bianca toyed with the fringes on the end of a scarf. “We get along pretty well.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I guess I am.”

It was getting dark when I dragged myself out of Bianca’s house. Her mom had taken the car, so I faced a long walk home. I’d left all my stuff in my locker when I fled the school, so I had no coat to protect me from the chilly air.

“You want to borrow a sweater or something?” Bianca walked down the short driveway with me.

“I’ll be fine.” I hugged my arms around myself. “Thanks, Bianca.”

“Meet me before school tomorrow?” She hugged me, enveloping me in her raspberry flavor.

“Yeah. Okay.” School. Tomorrow. The thought was like lead pellets dropping into my stomach. It was going to be hell.

“Cool. See you then.” Bianca kissed my cheek, not letting go of me. “We’ll get through this, okay? And I guess we can go to the dance now, right?” She laughed.

I tried to laugh, too, but the idea of going to the dance didn’t seem exciting anymore. The thought of it sent the snakes in my belly into a frenzy.

“I love you,” I blurted. Then, humiliated at having said the words, I ducked out of Bianca’s embrace and ran off down the street.

My heart pounded so hard in my chest it seemed like it might burst through. I love you. How had I said it? I barely knew the girl. But I knew the words were true. I loved Bianca Mattheson. A smile stretched my face as I walked through the approaching darkness. I was grateful for the biting wind that cooled my burning cheeks and whipped through my clothes to ignite the fire of desire that blazed in me. Love. Love. Love. I was in love.

I wanted to tell Jules. I needed to. How would she feel about me being in love with a girl? Would it bother her? Had she ever had feelings like that? Jules was one of those girls who had boyfriends in kindergarten, and she’d been dating since she turned fourteen. There had been two other serious boyfriends before Zach, but I knew Zach was the only one she’d slept with. She’d told me that, late one night when we were on vacation at the beach.

I changed direction and headed back toward the high school and the bus stop nearby. I was going to go see Jules. This late, the school was deserted, but I still kept my head lowered. I hoped Hannah hadn’t said anything, but I couldn’t be sure.

Jules was alone, and for that I was grateful. I took a gulp of thick, medicinal tasting air and stepped into the room.

“Livvie?” She struggled into a sitting position and stared at me. She wasn’t drugged into drooling oblivion today. Thank goodness.

I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t cooperate.

She raised the bed and sat, eyes fixed on me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. There were so many things I wanted to ask, so many things I needed to share. “How are you feeling?”

She made a puking face and crossed her eyes. “Let’s not talk about it, huh? You look down. What’s up?”

I hesitated, looking down at my scuffed old shoes. How could I explain to my sister that I was in love? That my former best friend had caught me kissing a girl in the art room and was probably right now in the process of outing me to the whole school.

“Everything going okay at school?” It was like Jules read my thoughts.

Something about the way her eyes changed when she focused on me broke through the carefully constructed barricade I’d been protecting myself with. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I turned away.

“You’re not crying over me, are you?”

I shook my head, and then nodded. It was Jules. But there was so much more. Without my wanting them to, words tumbled from my mouth. “Hannahcaughtmekissingbiancaintheartroomandisgoingtotellthewholeschooli’mgay.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get much of that.” Jules gave me a brief hug. “Try it more slowly, huh?”