Calli (8 page)

She’s right if you compare her life to mine. I overheard Michelle tell Mom and Liz that Cherish’s stepdad hit her so hard she had to be hospitalized. Even as much as I don’t like Cherish sometimes because of the things she does, it sickens me to think of what she’s gone through. Did Liz endure such unimaginable things too?

Cherish swings her legs. “You’ve got to be tougher.”

She’s right again. “I’m trying to be less chicken turdish.”

This makes Cherish bust up, and even I laugh.

“WHAT’S THAT?” Cherish asks, pointing her finger and nearly knocking over my glass of orange juice.

“A note.” I cover the handwriting so she can’t read what I’ve written to Dub so far. There isn’t much.

“Not that.” Cherish grabs the engraved pen out of my hand. “What are you doing with this?”

“It’s mine. Mom gave it to me awhile back.” I reach to snag it from her, but Cherish slaps my hand away.

“It was on my desk last time I saw it. Are you taking my things?”

“No! You’re always taking my things!”

“Calm down, girls,” Mom says, sipping her peppermint tea. “You both have a bus to catch this morning and school to think about.”

“I’ll buy you each a new pen if you quit fighting,” Liz adds like it’s that simple.

I don’t want to give the pen back, but I also don’t want Cherish to be suspicious. “If it means that much
to you, you can have it. Even if it belonged to my biological father.”

I slide it over, and Mom gives me a smile of approval.

“That’s okay,” Cherish says, which catches me off guard. “I’ve got something from my grandmother that I wouldn’t want anyone else to have.” Mom smiles at her next.

I know what that something is, and I should return it to her sooner than later. I could just slip it back into her underwear drawer while she goes off to brush her teeth, but Mom and Liz are buzzing around the house and I know I’d get caught.

I need the necklace to illustrate that I’m standing up for myself, finally setting my boundaries.

Cherish hogs the bathroom so long that I don’t have a chance to brush my teeth before school. Lovely.

I leave without her and walk to the bus stop on the next block so we don’t have to wait together. The confrontation this morning was enough. I wish I had time to walk to Delia’s stop, but the bus will be here in a moment.

When the bus does arrive, Torey’s sitting in my spot next to Delia. “I think I still have sand between my toes,” she says and then adds something cutesy about pearls forming underneath her toenails.

Delia giggles. Torey’s joke isn’t funny.

“Morning,” I say, taking a seat in the row in front of them.

“Hey,” Delia says flatly, like she couldn’t care less I’m here. She doesn’t even ask why I wasn’t waiting at my usual spot. She goes right back to talking with Torey.

Asking for a piece of gum will give me an excuse to make conversation with her. Besides, I really need a
piece so I won’t have shredded-wheat-and-orange-juice morning breath. I rinsed my mouth with water, but it didn’t get rid of the flavors and the chunks stuck in my teeth. I turn around. “You have a stick of gum you could spare?”

She halfheartedly digs through her bag. “Nope. I’m out.”

Delia’s lying. She always has gum. My eyes burn when I sit back in place. I keep my “bus allergies” in check by finishing my note to Dub. For how long it’s taken me to write, there isn’t much.

I draw a tiny flower over the “i” in my name like usual. I fold the recycled sheet of paper.
Un, deux, trois, quatre.

Mom says kids should come with instructions, but I think she has it wrong. Boys should be the ones to come with instructions. Friends too.

When the bus stops at my normal spot, Cherish saunters down the aisle, swinging her backpack like she wants to smash me with it, but I move out of the way. Too bad she doesn’t accidentally hit Torey. Cherish surprises me when she sits next to me instead of in the back of the bus. I put the note away.

“Act like they don’t bother you at all,” Cherish whispers, discreetly pointing behind us at Delia and Torey.

I hug her like we’re the chummiest sisters ever and
then laugh like she told me a hilarious joke. Cherish gives me the evil eye for overdoing it. I play it off with another laugh.

Cherish leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes the rest of the ride. She really is all right.

I sigh. Today’s going to be a long day. I just know it. At least our Mardi Gras Buffet family night got canceled. I have an orthodontist appointment after school and Mom hasn’t been feeling well. She thinks it might have to do with her new medicine and promised me it wasn’t from the fried chicken. Liz will pick me up so I don’t have to ride the bus in the afternoon.

When the bus pulls to a stop at Calcasieu High, Cherish pushes her way off without saying good-bye. I follow her lead.

Before I lose my nerve, I run to Dub’s locker and slip the note inside before going to French.

“
Bonjour!
” Madame Mahoney says. “
Comment ça va
?”

How’s it going? “
Ça va.
” Fine. I should say
mal.
Bad.

I hand her the receipt from the museum and a short essay I wrote about the trip detailing the history of the early French settlers and how French, especially the Cajun dialect, is one of the official state languages.

“Did you study for your quiz?” she asks the class as soon as the bell rings.

 

After school Liz is waiting for me in her ratty white station wagon. Before climbing in I scan the campus for Dub. Has he read my note yet?

Liz has long arms and it doesn’t take her much effort
to pop the door open for me. “Are you embarrassed to get into the car with me?” she asks.

“No, just looking to see if I could find someone.”

“Well, we’ve got some time to kill before the appointment. Want to pick up a few things at the grocery store?” Liz offers.

When we’re at the store, I select several 3 Musketeers. Liz grabs a couple of Snickers bars for herself. My teeth are sure to hurt later so I also pick up some packs of pudding and containers of yogurt.

I thank Liz after checking out.

“That’s what I’m here for. To spoil you rotten. Quite literally.”

On the drive to the orthodontist office, Liz tears into one of her candy bars and gobbles it up in several bites. I’m tempted to do the same, but I’ll wait until later so there aren’t chunks of chocolate caked in my braces. The orthodontist always rants about oral hygiene.

“Brandi told me the two of you had fun at the museum. I hope you know that I’m here for you too. You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

It’s the kind of cheesy comment you could easily hear on one of those after school specials, but I love it. I love her for telling me this. “Thanks, Liz.”

The office smells like peppermint tea. After checking in, I go to the bathroom, where there’s a jar full of toothbrushes and a tray of travel-sized toothpastes. I grab one of each and get to work making my mouth minty fresh. I’ve always wondered who would come here without cleaning her teeth. Now I know.

Liz is reading
Motor Trend
in the waiting room. I
pick up a worn copy of
Sports Illustrated
’s swimsuit issue from a table when I join her. The models look so thin, so unreal, that I put it back on the table. “Any interesting cars?” I ask Liz instead. She points out a funky concept car with doors that open like a pair of bat wings. “Can you imagine Mom driving that?”

Liz laughs and turns the page to an advertisement for car wheels. “Which rims would you pick out?”

I point to the ninja wheels right as an assistant calls my name. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for teeth torture.

 

I’ve been home only a little while, but my teeth already hurt after the adjustment. I help myself to a cup of pudding.

“I can’t believe Liz bought you that junk,” Mom says, joining me at the kitchen table. If she knew about all of the candy bars, she’d
really
go off on us.

Cherish charges into the room, wild-eyed. “Where the hell is it?”

All the oxygen whooshes out of my lungs. I push the pudding cup to the side, and before I have a chance to give her my rehearsed response, she starts yelling, “You stole my necklace just like the pen!”

“You can’t just take anything of mine you want or throw yourself at my boyfriend!”

Mom stands up and steps between us. “Calm down, girls. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Cherish pushes her out of the way.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Right as I get to my feet, Cherish leans in and pushes me. Hard. I stumble but
manage to keep my footing. She’s lost it and so have I. “What’s wrong with you? No wonder nobody wants you around for very long!”

Cherish flies at me. It’s too late to run. She punches me in the mouth, knocking me down. My head hits something hard. The pain in my head is blinding.

Someone cries out.

The room spins.

Fists pummel.

Legs kick.

A dog barks hysterically.

A voice shouts, “I’m calling 911!”

“CAN YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME?” an older, uniformed guy asks me.

I’m sore and numb headed. “Calli.” I stare at the bright blue and orange star-shaped patch on his sleeve while he flashes a bright penlight in my eyes. I blink. Even my eyeballs hurt.

“Stare at my nose,” Ambulance Guy says. It’s big and has tiny black hairs all over it.

“What day of the week is it?” he asks while a woman in a similar uniform checks my blood pressure.

“Monday.” It feels like I’m mumbling for some reason.

Ambulance Guy leans in to inspect my face. I continue staring at his nose hairs. “Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches. You’ll want to keep that lip iced.”

“I’ll get an ice pack.” Mom’s voice sounds weak. I turn and see tears streaming down her face before she walks into the kitchen.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Liz is talking
to a police officer. I don’t know where Cherish is. Maybe she ran away after Mom called 911.

“Do you know where you are?”

“At my house, sitting on the couch.” I don’t remember how I got here. Ambulance Guy feels my head all over, pressing on a lump. “Ow.”

Mom returns with a ziplock bag full of ice cubes and hands it to me. The bag of ice stings when I hold it against my lip.

“Do you know how long you were unconscious?”

“No.” It’s weird. I barely remember anything after Cherish started hitting me. I keep this from Ambulance Guy. Mom seems too fragile. “I’m okay.”

“You’re being really brave,” Ambulance Guy says and asks me to spell a word backward.

As soon as I respond, he peppers me with more questions. “When is your birthday?”

“February second.” I want to run away too, but my body feels heavy and maybe I’ll get arrested if I try to escape.

“How old will you be next year?” How many questions does he have?

“Sixteen.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I, uh, I mouthed off to my foster sister and she got upset, and she, well, started hitting me.” I leave out the specifics. There goes another mark against me.

“I’m okay, seriously.” I look away from his tiny black nose hairs and stare at Mom again. “Where’s Cherish?”

“She was arrested. I promise she won’t hurt you anymore.”

Arrested? I can’t believe this is happening.